PROLOGUE TO AMERICAN DISCOVERIES: SCOUTING THE FIRST COAST-TO-COAST RECREATIONAL TRAIL

ERIC:

“YO.” The blaring voice shocked us into a dead halt.  A menacing man carrying a crossbow and wearing camouflage fatigues hustled toward us in that Marine jog in which nothing moves but your legs.  A pirate’s bandanna framed a face smeared with green war paint.  Even 50 yards downhill, we could see muscles bulging against his T-shirt.

Sam and I had just helped ourselves to water from the faucet outside this man’s cabin.  But for all he knew, we’d helped ourselves to the cabin’s contents as well.

We were still 20 rocky miles from our food and camping gear.  With less than an hour of light left, the sky had turned from joyful blue to ominous gray.  We were so worn out from fighting the slopes of the Rockies all day that we sat down to accept whatever fate this bowman brought.

I wished we were with Ellen, those 20 mountain miles away, at some peaceful campsite...

 ELLEN:

I hurried to pitch our tents in an evergreen grove on the edge of a deserted grassy meadow.  Sam and Eric should have been here by now, and I hoped they weren’t lost or hurt somewhere on this Colorado mountain.

As the light faded I grew uneasy, then nervous when I heard the rumble of engines coming up the jeep trail.  A tough looking crew spilled out of three pickups, set up camp across the meadow, and commenced a raucous happy hour around a roaring fire.  I watched from my tent, hoping to stay undiscovered until nightfall concealed my campsite.  Then more pickups converged on this remote spot, shotguns in racks across their back windows.  I spent the long dinner hour in a self-imposed blackout, afraid to use my flashlight, waiting for everyone to fall asleep or pass out.

Then a gunshot reverberated through the darkness.  Several more quickly followed.  Engines started, and poachers began circling the meadow, round and round, driving without lights, blasting from their trucks.  Where were their guns aimed?  Into the woods, I was sure.  And probably into my patch of woods, since there was no campsite visible there.  I could picture a bullet ripping through my nylon tent.  I hugged the tent floor and thought, “I left a good job and a safe home for this?”  Not quite the romantic trail scout life I’d pictured, but I told my self I should be happy to be here, considering last year’s alternative....

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter 1     Carpe Diem
Chapter 2     False Start
Chapter 3     Bullets, Blazes, and Bigfoot
Chapter 4     What Took You So Long?
Chapter 5     Hoofbeats of the Pony Express
Chapter 6     Mystery Mountains
Chapter 7     The Only People in Running Shoes
Chapter 8     Cowboys and Poachers
Chapter 9     Rocky Mountain Highs and Lows
Chapter 10   A Fine Selection of Firearms
Chapter 11   Canyon Country Cognoscente
Chapter 12   High Plains Lonesome
Chapter 13   The Kindness of Strangers
Chapter 14   Just Never Give Up
Chapter 15   Lewis, Clark, and Katy
Chapter 16   You Could Wander in Circles
Chapter 17   Lawn Ornament Land
Chapter 18   Sir Harry and the Worldwalker
Chapter 19   The Shirts Off Their Backs
Chapter 20   Warhol’s Revenge