Website © 2005 by Tyler Carey
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Hobo Lifestyles #21, Cont'd
2005, A Year in Review
Text and Photos by Tyler M. Carey
| In June, the Unknown Hobo and I embarked out upon the Appalachian Trail. Comical hijinx of course ensued. Many questionable plants were sampled along the way and determined to not necessarily be so good for one's tummy. Kidding. Well, this much is true - as we approached, one cliff, and smelled something awful, the Unknown Hobo stopped and sniffed. "Son of a bitch," he said, "do you smell that?" I nodded. "Smells like carrion." I nodded. "I wonder what it is," he said. He walked over to the cliff, took off his hat, and proceeded to get on all fours, so that he could dangle over the edge of the cliff to get a better look. "You sure that's a wise ide-" I was cut off by the rustling of feathers and the screeching of a turkey vulture, which batted its wings towards the greatest of Great Hoboes, and then took off. Miraculously, his hobosity did not fall over the edge. Instead he leaned back and said, "Huh, I wonder what it was eating down there." I shook my head and muttered, "Probably the last hiker who stuck his head over the cliff. C'mon, let's go." |  |
| One hungry woodpecker... |  |
| So, over hill and dale, cliff and stream, the Unknown Hobo and I hiked. Aside from the homicidal turkey vulture, we saw very little wildlife, but that wasn't the focus of the trip. It was to be out in the wilderness, be tough men, bond over stories of alcohol and farts, and to eat peanut butter sandwiches that my wife had cut the crusts off of. So, when after all that time of roughing it had elapsed, we got back to my car and drove to my home. There, standing in the driveway, were three deer, just kind of checking us out. Next year, we're just sitting in the yard with some beer, listening to some John Denver. And I'll tell that story about the turkey vulture again. And the Unknown Hobo will swat me with his hat. |  |