Life Journey: A Werebear's Story: Crumb Trail Part 1 By. Housecubct housecubct@gmail.com
Authors Note: This is largely autobiographical in nature, written as catharsis. Its the readers job to decide where the fiction stops and starts. Special thanks to a Furry Family that I am not a part of. I could not have done this with your help. Sometimes the hardest step is the first one.
The Ascent
On the outskirts of town Matt found a rest area for hikers. He noticed a few cars parked along the road. There was a picnic area with BBQ grill and a water hydrant. He took a few minutes to reset his gear and check both his maps and laptop.Rustling through the maps and scrutinizing his years of collected image data resurfaced memories of a conversation with an old friend, and brought a smile to his face.
"Jason Mathews, please," Matt asked the secretary, and waited on hold.
"This is Jason," a familiar voice came on the line.
"Hey Kangaroo-Cowboy, what's shaking?" He quipped.
"Matt, you freaking asshole! You still owe me big for the last time you called." Jason laughed heartily, "That's it, I'm tracing the call and I'm going to collect the cash myself!"
"The same place as last time, Jackass. You can trace the call if you want but you know where I live," Matt retorted.
"I know, I know, just screwing with you. So, to what do I owe the honor of speaking with the infamous Raven Security Specialist? Wait! Don't tell me. You need something, am I right?" Jason asked, the line crackling with his soft chuckle.
"Um, yeah. I need topographical and image data on a few locations. Before you ask, all of them are unclassified. Yes, I can find them on Google, and yes, I have already searched NOAA and SAT-TRAK," he kept his voice direct and calm.
"Well, now that those bases are covered. Map data, huh? Tell me the locations. Wait, just send the locations to my email, I'll pull what I can find and send it your way when I get into research time this afternoon," Jason said in a hurry.
"Okay, it's on its way. I owe you brother, I really do," Matt spoke with a little tremble in his voice.
"Not even a little bit, brother. A life saved is a debt owed. Giving you some map data will hardly make up for my debt, but it's a start," Jason said in a plain tone, making it obvious to Matt that it was time to go.
"Thanks brother. Give lots of hugs to Anna and Justin, see yah!" Matt quickly hung up the phone before the conversation turned into a question and answer session.
The data Jason collected and sent was invaluable in locating the landmarks mentioned in the stories. It contained more detail than civilian maps and provided up-to-date geographical information; Jason's data had been the key, the stroke of luck that gave Matt the needed connections and allowed the pieces to fall into place. It showed locations that Google had missed , as well as revealed smaller details and landmarks that were not on the current maps. The stories had intentionally left out key points, but Matt had spent hours either reconstructing or fabricating them from what he knew. It was time to get moving.
After surveying the maps and calculating the walk times, he concluded it was going to be at least a two-day hike. Not wanting to waste any more time on nostalgia, he packed his gear, rigging both the pack and gear for an aggressive ascent. He hung his solar charger out the top, and filled up his water bottles and the pack bladder. The charger would ensure life for both his laptop and flashlight while the water would be needed the higher he climbed, if he was unable to locate any water along the way.
He cast one final glance up at the mountain, "Here I come. Whatever you are, whoever you are ... here I come."
The ascent was surprisingly pleasant, he found that there were several foot trails which helped him make much better time than he had previously thought he would. Several of the people he met were kind, curious folk surprised by his interest in such an obscure location. He asked them a few questions, mostly about people they had seen in the area, but had no luck matching any of the other bits of information from any of the stories. This was the only shot he had and it was time for him to make it count.
The first night in the woods came quickly, so Matt found a suitable location and started striking his camp. As he gathered wood and kindling for a fire, he could feel the wildlife in the area. He thought to himself, `I was the intruder; it would be an interesting evening.' Along the way his training kicked in and he decided to tie a few sound signals, or Jingle-Lines. He placed them in a rough circle around him about 15 meters away. If anything large approached he could at least be able hear it coming before it ate him.
Matt was not carrying any weapons, he did however have his utility hunting knife, field saw, multi-tool, and spade, but those was the extent of his readily available defensive capabilities. His father had always taught him to think outside of the box and that everything could be used for defense if it was used correctly. He was fond of bringing home boxes of miscellaneous items and giving him the task of building or creating objects from the contents of those boxes, something that Matt missed greatly.
The night passed in three-hour blocks, Matt would wake to put more wood on the fire and then fall back to sleep again. In the late morning he broke camp, then went about the task of collecting his Jingle-Lines. While inspecting and removing them, he noticed several animal tracks outside of the lines, but none inside the perimeter. He thought it was odd, but it wasn't unheard of for local wildlife to find something new and avoid it. He assumed that his scent had warded them off, he had not showered at the shelter and was sure he smelled like roadkill.
After re-packing his gear he continued his ascent. Along the way he picked berries and nuts to soothe his hunger; the meal at the coffee shop had long worn off, and his tummy had stopped growling and started to bite. Along the way he found some wild cabbage and a potato in a makeshift abandoned garden. He ate the potato as he walked but saved the cabbage to add to a future meal. He still had some food and materials put away, but those were all had left and he didn't have any money left to buy more. Heck, it wasn't like there was any way to buy more up on the mountain. Matt did notice the air was becoming much thinner than he was used to the higher he climbed; he was quickly winded and stopped quite often to catch his breath.
Along the way, he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched or followed. This was not an uncommon feeling and is actually considered normal when isolated or alone; at least that's what his field survival instructor had kept saying. He did, however, take out his monocular and scan the area each time he stopped, just to be sure. At one stop he thought he saw movement across a gully, but could not make it out with the trees and ground foliage blocking his sight. He also found tracks along the way, but he was no good at identifying them. A few looked as though they could have been dogs and larger animals, he thought a couple of the larger prints may have been Bear, but he was not sure.
Cresting the summit of the first mountain his lungs were on fire. He could no longer ascend more than a hundred meters without having to stop and rest. Looking back he could see why people fell in love with this area, the majesty of the ancient towering trees, the breathtaking mountains, the sighing wind, and a gentle peace that beckoned to your soul. It was magical. Looking at his watch he noticed it was only half past two in the afternoon, he checked his map, his current location was about three-fourths of the way to his goal, so he decided it would be good to find a base camp to fall back to in case of an emergency. He walked a bit further and found a slight clearing surrounded by trees. He dropped his pack and went about making camp preparations.
Tonight he would make a shelter and build a proper fire pit. Finding what he needed was pretty easy. He stripped branches for the supports and ribs of the shelter, he tied them with stripped bark and vines. He used branches that had fallen and leafy ground clutter for the back and sides, they would provide good insulation. The fire pit was next; he dug a shallow pit, and connected a longer narrow hole to the bottom of it. It would allow air to enter at the base of the fire which meant it would burn both cleaner and hotter. This way he could have the pit closer to the shelter. It was pushing six in the afternoon when he stopped to survey his work. The shelter was made, an ample supply of firewood had been gathered and separated, and water was drawn from a little brook. Matt decided it would be a good night to cook his food. He took out his mess kit, a couple small pots, and measured out his rice and beans. He decided against using the dried beef and instead used the cabbage he found. He would save the meat until he needed it. He started the meal cooking and made a little hot tea. Even if he was roughing it, Matt would still have his tea.
While dinner was cooking Matt unrolled his sleeping bag and put it on the ground cover he had made. Then he took out a solar sheet and attached it to the underside of the shelter; this would further reflect the heat forward and down onto him as he rested.
Sipping his tea, he was once again struck with the feeling that he was being watched. He shoved the feeling back and surveyed the area again. It was getting dark so he quickly rigged some Jingle-Lines around the camp, hoping they would help calm his worked up nerves. He remembered what his instructor told him many years ago, "Fear is your friend and your enemy. You must learn when to hug him or slap the living shit out of him. When you do, do it quick." So there he sat behind the fire with his back to the shelter. It was very warm and made him feel more secure. He pulled out his laptop and started to catalog the day taking note of the tracks he spotted and what had happened the previous night. Since leaving home, Matt had made it a point to journal his thoughts, feelings, happenings, and details of his journey. As he worked,a subtle scent wafted in. The scent of pine mixed with leathery musk floated on the air. As pleasant as it was, the hair on the back of his neck stood up; but then as suddenly as it had come it was gone. He tapped a few more lines and studied the maps again, he made several location marks to gauge his pace, confirming he was still going in the right direction. Tomorrow he would visit the place that had drawn him here, the place that had caused such a terrible split in his relationship, the place that turned his life upside down, chewed it up, and spit it out again.
After making a few more marks on his map Matt looked up and surveyed the ascent ahead of him. He did not pack any hiking poles, so he would have to find something that could work in their place. Matt searched just outside the jingle lines, and found a fairly straight and thick branch. He broke it free of the downed tree and took it back to camp. He stripped the bark from it and used the cable saw to smooth out its surface. He dug around in his pack until he found some parachute cord, the cord would do nicely for end wrapping. He notched the ends and used the fire to heat and treat the wood. When complete, the staff would be harder on the ends and flexible toward the center. Making it a good walking staff as well as a defensive tool if needed.
When he was done with the staff, he powered down his laptop and stowed it securely back in his pack. He snapped a few pictures of the awesome sunset and then stowed the digital camera as well. While he was eating his dinner the feeling of being watched passed. He thought it must have just been a sugar imbalance, in conjunction with the thinner air.
The warm food, full belly, hot tea, and fire were just what Matt needed. He had washed up in the brook after dinner and left his clothes to dry by the fire while he sat, almost nude, relaxing as a cool breeze blew over him. With the warm glow from the fire radiating down from the solar sheet, Matt quickly drifted off to into a light sleep.
In his very relaxed sleep state the dreams came again, this time the Bears were walking toward him. A man stood before the Bears; tall, broad, naked, furry, holding a staff. The tall man would raise the staff and hit the ground ... jingle ... again he raised it ... drop ... jingle... again and again ... louder and louder ... The dream faded away slowly as Matt woke to cold feet. The fire had almost died out and the site was dark. In his groggy, sleepy state he threw more wood in the pit and warming his toes as the fire began to come back to life. As the fire grew, and the area was easier to see, he could tell that the ground had been disturbed around the site. None of his gear was moved, but there were smudged prints right beside where Matt had been sleeping. `I could have made those when I was walking around, I did have my boots off and the majority of my clothes were drying by the fire.' Still, it was curious. As the fire grew and warmed Matt again, he snuggled into his sleeping bag and drifted back to sleep.
The morning came without incident. Matt had slept peacefully throughout the night getting the best night's sleep since he had left home. He thought it must have been exhaustion or something else but he wasn't going to complain, he felt energized and relaxed. He left the fire burning and packed up his gear. If he did not return, the pit would let the fire burn itself out without a problem and the next traveler would have the great head start on a pleasant campsite. He checked the map, oriented himself again and off he went. He found himself rushing, almost as if he was in a hurry to reach his destination. Matt was excited but also deeply scared. If this was all a figment of his imagination, then he was crazy and Luke was right. If it was true, how was it going to turn out? He had no idea, so he stuffed down the excitement and instead thought of caution first.
As Matt made the slow but steady ascent, it struck him that he may be trespassing on someone's property or even into a completely different world than the one he left in the city below. There had been no sign of power lines or roads for the better part of the ascent. Also, it was becoming apparent that what he was searching for might not want to be found. This singular fact is what scared him more than anything else. Was the crumb trail Matt followed a hoax, was it really just fiction? Had Matt's already fractured mind latched onto and connected random details in an attempt to make a coherent picture?
"Stop it, the maps and data points don't lie. It's there, you need to find it."
Stuffing the negative speech down into himself he realized that he was about to emerge from the trees and enter a small clearing that preceded a rocky outcrop. He stopped, took out his monocular and surveyed the area. Then a familiar scent wafted around him. The same subtle hint of pine and leather he had smelled before. Matt did a full turn and then the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Another turn. Nothing. His gut was telling him to get ready; something was coming, his mind was screaming for him to run. He stood his ground, whatever was here with him had tracked him and he was going to confront it. He mentally noted that he had not tried to be stealthy, or covert, never bothering to hide his trek up the mountain. He thought back the prints he had found around the Jingle-Lines and inside the camp; he was not alone.
After a few minutes of tense waiting and turning circles the scent vanished taking with it Matt's feeling of panic. He froze, standing still, and listened for any hint of a noise; whatever that feeling was, it must have been a warning. So, he skirted the trees around the pond, picking a spot to seat himself and waited. Matt was on edge; he knew he needed to dial it down and calm himself but his left hand continued shaking, reaching for a weapon that was not there. He silenced himself and analyzed the area around him, took in the smells, the sounds, everything. He tried to memorize and catalog each them so he could pick out any differences or changes, a survival technique he had learned many years ago.
Standing he took out his compass and checked the directions. He took off his pack and reconfigured his gear. He moved the utility knife to his waist pack which he secured on the outside of his coat. His nerves were up and his gut was tight, they told him to be prepared. He also added his trauma kit, quick clot bandages, fire starter, water purification tabs, and signal flare to the waist pack. Everything else was stowed inside. There were no dangling straps, all his gear was quieted and snuggly strapped down. He hefted the pack and proceeded on, leaving the shelter of the trees.
Matt made his way into the clearing keeping the tree line on his left. He walked around the rocky outcrop bringing the pond within his line of sight, stream fed and leading off to the south. He saw a formation of rock that could have been used as a cooking area. It was real, this place was real; it was real and he was standing in it. His gut tightened again causing a panic to shoot through him, he looked around and although he didn't see anything his mind was screaming for him to run. The panic he was sensing clashed strongly with his excitement. He walked gingerly around the pond, absorbing it all, locking in the data points becoming increasingly excited. This place was real, what about the Bears; were they real too?
The man-made eating area he found, from a distance, would have appeared as just a formation of rocks. The charcoal had long since been used, but there was evidence of food laying around as well as a few beer bottles scattered on the ground. The bottles were old; their labels almost completely peeled off. The grass had grown tall around the entire area, undisturbed by any man or beast. This place had been used before, but by who and where did they go?
Matt's mind started to rack and stack the facts just like he had been trained to do. Several items fit the stories, but there were no trails to speak of in or out of this place. He looked around; the trees were too close to the water for a helicopter to touch down, so whoever had packed this stuff in had to have packed it out again. Looking around he noticed several areas that had been dug up and then filled again; the grass and ground lichen were much shorter in these areas.
As he made his way around the pond, it was obvious to him that this was the place from the stories, but there were parts that did not fit. First, there was no house within 10 miles; even at his most brisk walk, it would have taken him about an hour or more to reach the nearest home, a home was on the image data he had gathered but had not shown on Google. "30 minute walk, my ass," Matt snorted. He took a seat on the ponds sandy bank so he could take it all in. This place was beautiful, with stunning trees and the pond which was cool and clear. This was a magical place.
As Matt looked up, watching passing clouds, the wind changed directions and the scent assaulted him again. This time it was strong, very strong. He jumped to his feet and began turning circles training his eyes on the surrounding trees, ready for a fight. Gathering his nerves he yelled out "OK! Whatever you are, if you want me come and get me! I'm not running anymore."
Stillness came over the pond and the area surrounding Matt.
Silence filled the air around him. He could hear his heartbeat echoing in his ears.
Everything stopped. The wind, the sounds of nature, even the clouds seem to have stop moving.
It reminded him of the eerie, tense, few seconds before a firefight broke out. He had felt it many times in his travels, but this was somehow different, primal, this felt ... unexplainably real...
Please feel free to contact me at housecubct@gmail.com.