In 2010 I took off six months from work to thruhike the Appalachian Trail. My intent and ambition was to hike the whole thing, from Georgia to Maine, in one season. While I didn't quite accomplish that goal, I had dozens of irreplaceable experiences along the way which made it worth the effort.
By early summer I was in central Virginia. On June 3 I saw virtually noone. I ended my day early at a really nice shelter in large part because another hiker showed up. I just wanted somebody to talk to. On the morning of June 4 I moved on, walking quickly in the cool morning air to try to make up some of the mileage I had skipped the day before.
Around noon I arrived at Cornelius Creek. I was pleased with my progress, and even more pleased that somebody had left trail magic in the form of cold Cokes in the stream near the shelter. I got some water from the stream and helped myself to a cold Coke to have with my lunch. With my sugary treasure in hand I walked the two hundred feet from the stream to the shelter and sat down at the picnic table to eat my lunch.
A hiker was asleep in the shelter. I tried to be as quiet as I could. It seemed like everything was making more noise than it should, as things always do when you're trying hard to be quiet. The hiker slept through it all, though. I got out some snacks and drank the soda while I filtered the water and had a look at my map.
You might think it unusual to find somebody asleep at noon, but during the hottest times of the year, some people hike at night and sleep during the day. It does help you escape from the heat while hiking, but then you have to try to sleep during the heat. I don't do it, myself. But I know plenty of folks who do. The bugs are so bad that I wouldn't try doing it in a shelter, but some do. This guy had a couple of flies on him. I don't know how he slept through that.
Still, the fellow in the shelter was being really quiet. Shouldn't he be snoring? Pretty much everybody snores. I glanced over at him. I didn't want to stare, but I looked again. He really wasn't moving much. I mean, at all. I started to get a very creepy feeling. The flies were sounding very loud in the stillness.
Here I was, sitting all by myself in the middle of nowhere, with somebody who may or may not be dead. Also, I've watched zombie movies. They seemed a lot more real to me right then. What if he WERE dead, and I woke him up!
Being a modern girl, I got out my cell phone and texted my best friend. Who was nowhere near me. She was several hundred miles away, in fact. But I needed a second opinion. "I think this guy might be dead", I typed. I didn't wonder what that would look like on the other end. She was confused. And concerned. I texted her more details.
She suggested poking him. While this might make sense, I was averse to the idea on two levels. First, I would feel bad about disturbing a sleeping hiker. And second, I DID NOT WANT to touch a dead guy! So no matter what, I didn't want to touch him.
DeLee next suggested that I ask if he were okay. Okay, yes, this makes sense. I said "Hey, mister, are you all right?" Nothing. Then I said "HEY MISTER, ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?!" Nothing. I got up and slapped the floor of the shelter. If he were deaf, he should feel the vibrations. He didn't move at all.
Okay, I'm pretty sure this guy is dead. I didn't get very close, but I moved to where I could see him better. He had flies ALL OVER his closed eyes. And the bottom of his hand where it was against the floor, tucked up next to him, was turning dark purple. I'm no expert, but I've watched CSI. I think that's what they call lividity, the blood settling to the bottom of the body.
Diagnosis made, I took the next step. I called 911. 911 was surprisingly nonplussed. "You found a WHAT?" I guess they don't get calls about corpses every day. Which is weird. I mean, people die all the time, right? I was trying to give them details when the call dropped, and I couldn't get them back. Oh, great. I figured I would hike out to a road and flag somebody down.
I started packing up to go, then realized that I needed to use the privy. It felt incredibly insensitive to have bodily functions when the guy was over there being dead. But it didn't change the fact that I needed to go. I trudged up the trail to the privy, feeling awkward. When I got back, another hiker was sitting at the picnic table, eating his lunch.
I asked him if he had a cellphone on a different network from me. He said yes, but was confused about why I wanted it. "I think that guy's dead" I said. "I need to call 911 back."
He hopped up from the picnic table pretty fast. "He's WHAT?" I had already been through this conversation a couple of times so I was impatient. "I think he's dead and I need to call 911 back. Could I use your phone please?" He dug it out of his pack with shaking hands and checked, but he had no signal. I told him I was moving on, and he quickly packed up his gear. For some reason he didn't want to eat lunch next to a dead guy.
As we were both leaving, two day hikers came up. I asked them if they had a phone too, and we went through the conversation. It turned out that they had hiked in from a side trail that morning, had seen the guy in the shelter, and had walked on. ALL of us had thought he was asleep! He was a very convincing sleeping corpse.
All of us left the shelter. The other thruhiker raced away, wanting to leave the memory behind. I walked at a more normal pace. Within a quarter of a mile, my phone beeped. 911 had left me a message. I didn't know 911 would call you back. They were very insistent. "CALL US BACK!" they said. Since I had enough signal to get a message, I figured I had enough signal to make a call. Soon I was back on the line, explaining about the corpse (… I was pretty sure, though the ranger they got on the line asked me if I had checked the pulse and I had to admit that I had not on account of the zombie fear.) I hesitantly asked if they wanted me to go back and wait with the corpse, and was relieved when they said no. They said I'd have to give a report later. I told them I was a thruhiker, had no fixed address, and had no good way for them to locate me. They were unconcerned.
Sure enough, three hours later I hear my name called at a road crossing. Two men two hundred yards away hollered "Mrs Joy?" Mrs Joy was my trail name. I walked down to them. They were police officers. And sure enough, they took my report. And then they helped me out by pointing out a shortcut to the next shelter, as they had used up some of my time and it was getting dark.
At the shelter was Roadrunner, the thruhiker from earlier. He was pleased to have company after our disturbing incident, and so was I. We ate dinner together, and then retired for the night. Due to the aforementioned bugs, I set up my tent outside the shelter. So in the morning when I woke up and I couldn't hear anything, I also couldn't see Roadrunner. My first thought was "Oh no, not again!" I called out his name, and was incredibly relieved when he replied with a very normal "What?"
I think we can all agree that finding a corpse is an unusual experience, and not one I probably would have had in my normal life. It wasn't enjoyable. It wasn't fun. But it was incredibly memorable, and I am oddly proud to have done the right thing by that anonymous hiker. Who knows how many people would have walked by the sleeper before somebody did something about it? I couldn't save him, but I could make sure his family found out in a timely fashion, and he could get proper treatment rather than being gnawed on by critters. If it happened again I might be a little better prepared since the first time.. but I still don't think I'm going to poke any corpses. Just in case.
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