We used to go up to the Ramapo Reservation early, before the sun came up. And as the sun was rising, we’d hike up the mountain to the lake at the top.
There, we’d set up our fishing lines and fish.
I don’t know if you’re allowed to do either of those things come to think of it now.
But we did it. And no one bothered us.
I remember one time, I was so tired from staying out late the night before, that I mostly slept. There is a big stone sort of square that butts out to the lake. That’s where I slept.
We used to go up there during the day and play frisbee and hacky sack in a giant field.
Or we’d laze around, listening to the Grateful Dead and laying in the sun, laughing and telling stories.
One day, a guy stopped and started talking to us. He was telling us he was going to a popular club at the time, The Wetlands that night. And how we should come. If I remember correctly, he said he would have a pocketful of nugs from Oregon. Ok, fine. He also picked up an ant and ate it right in front of us, then told us it was no big deal, that was what you had to do to stay alive on the Appalachian Trail. Ok, fine.
He wandered off and we went back to listening to music.
He came back about 15 minutes later and told us there were some people swimming up in the lake. The lake that we usually fished in.
He said the people were naked.
Now I’m no square, but that was the lake we fished in. I didn’t want no naked people scaring away the fish (come to think of it, I don’t think we actually caught anything ever, maybe this was why).
If you guys want to swim, we’ll be up there, he said. Ok, fine.
Then he said something I’ll never forget. He said, I know I told you my name is Mike before, but if you ever need me out in the real world, people know me as Merlin.
Ok, fine.
Then he walked away back out into the trees and disappeared.
We never went up to the lake to go swimming, we never went to the Wetlands that night and we never saw Merlin Mike ever again.
Which reminds me of a time we went camping in Jugtown. There was a rowdy bunch up on the hill, and some of them were wearing shirts that said CDS. When we asked, they said it stood for Christian Drinking Society.
At some point, a few of them were talking to us, they came down from the hill where their big campsite was set-up, and they told us, almost in a hushed voice.
Pope Sluggo wants to see you. Ok, fine.
I don’t know what happened, but we never wound up meeting Pope Sluggo. Someone did wake up and couldn’t find their shoes, they turned up in the embers of last night’s fire. We never found out if the CDS or Pope S himself was responsible. The friend wound up driving home barefoot.
Ok, fine.
I guygress.
You see, I sometimes think back to those points and wonder how the timeline would’ve changed if any of those actions changed.
One time, while playing blackjack, I got up to go to the bathroom. When I came back, I apologized to the guy next to me.
Sorry if I screwed the game up by leaving.
And he too said something I’ll never forget.
You getting up to pee changed every game of blackjack in this casino forever.
Ok, fine.
Heavy stuff.
But one time, I was at Ramapo Reservation by myself. I went up there with a back pack that had nothing but a notebook, pen and a tallboy of Arizona Green Tea. I don’t know if they still make those, I haven’t seen one in forever. Too much sugar in it anyways. I can still remember how that saccharine aftertaste would linger on my tongue.
Anyways, it was the day we invaded Afghanistan. I didn’t know this though. I drove up by myself, my plan was to sit by the lake that we had spent some many days fishing (clothed) and do some writing. Then drive on back home.
For some reason, when I got there, I just wasn’t in the mood to do any writing.
I had heard a story that there was another lake, a secret lake, even deeper in the woods. I decided to go look for it.
So I set off, into the woods. I hiked on a trail for about 30 minutes, and got bored again. I decided to just turn around and head back.
That is where things get Blair-Witchy.
I got bored walking on the trail, and figured instead of following the trail and looping around, I could just go off path and “cut through” to save some time.
It was a plan born of wisdumb.
I got lost.
Hopelessly.
Helplessly.
I didn’t find a path for hours.
I would up face to face against a sheer rock wall, that I scaled up, my Arizona ice tea rattling around in my backpack.
There was no path, no person on the other side. Just more woods.
After about 4 hours, I seriously contemplated just sitting down and resting. Waiting for night to come, waiting for someone to realize I was missing and find my car in the parking lot.
I was exhausted. Tired. Thirsty. Hungry.
I sat down and drank the ice tea.
I realized, that just stopping wouldn’t really help, because no one would have any idea where in the woods I was.
I wondered what would have happened if I had fallen down the rock wall, broke an arm or worse a leg.
That would’ve changed the timeline for sure.
I might not even be writing these words here.
I put the empty can in my backpack and continued.
Something crazy happened. Almost out of a dream.
About an hour later, I stumbled across another lake, deep in the woods.
And on the other side of the lake, a trail.
I’d been walking for about 5 hours at this point.
On this trail were people.
I told them I was lost and described where I had entered. Where my car was parked.
If only they could point me in the right direction.
“Oh sure, just follow this trail and it will take you all the way to the parking lot with your car.”
I asked how long.
They said about 4 miles.
Oof.
I headed off down the trail in the direction of my car.
About an hour and half later, I was sitting in my car. On the radio, there was news that we had invaded Afghanistan.
I drove through a McDonald’s drive-through and got chicken nuggets. I don’t eat a lot of fast food, but I was starving. They were so good.
And I sat in that parking lot, wondering what would’ve happened if I never would’ve made it out of those woods.
The world would’ve rolled on, for sure. But the world would’ve been different forever and ever.
The way the universe is never the same after someone gets up from a blackjack table.
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