ADS 336x280 Here...
The helicopters circling our position should've been our first clue. While we cheered and waved back at the soldier, never did we suspect we were in serious danger. In retrospect, that soldier did appear to be more swinging his arm at us rather than waving. We should've realized he meant move out. But such was not to be gleaned by the jolly carefree spirit of our merry JOC troop. Perhaps an even greater fax paus (can one even legitimately use such phraseology when applying it to rugged mountaineers????) was the large sign that warned about entering military property ahead. The guard rail was easily bypassed as there was no actual guard. We just ducked underneath. Way to go, tax dollars, I feel safe already. I think I actually began to worry when the red trail markers started to resemble bulls-eyes.In the distance we heard thunder-blasts. Yet, oddly enough, the sky was clear. Word was radioed to us in the vanguard, that apparently one of our members, in the rear, had a mishap (I was debating just how awkwardly I could phrase that). His entire sole, not to be confused with his everlasting timberland soul, was blown away. Thanks to the fast thinking of our girl-scout, always-prepared, dazzling-eyed hiker (who always carried a rope with her as well, for some reason), our wounded guys shoe was taped together with her duct tape. She still denies any bodies buried in the woods, but I never turned my back on her, to not throw caution entirely to the wind. Although after many hours of hiking, I'm sure she had no desire to be downwind of me either.
At the time it wasn't clear what happened, he thought it was a misstep, but time and 20/20 hindsight, lead me to conclude that he either stepped on a dummy-mine or shrapnel from the blast we heard had missed his person, allowing for more urgent ventilation. But did our innocent naive child-like selves recognize the gravity of the situation, I dare say not. In fact, the entire group, save myself, left the hike thrilled and invigorated to have successfully hiked the Timp trail. I, on the other hand, decided to seek out the source of our bombardment. In fact, there was a historic reenactment that very same day, at Fort Montgomery, recalling the famous revolutionary battle. There were three real cannons including a 32-pounder they were really firing. Zoinks! I stayed to watch as they fired live rounds out to sea at revolutionary style naval vessels who decided, in turn, to fire right back. Quite a sight.
As is usual with all things government related, I was faced with stonewalling and outright denial by military officials (which only strengthens my case). It is worthwhile to shmooze up the enlisted men though. I was offered to join in the wine and cheese tasting on the deck. See, all is forgiven. Case and company, DISMISSED!
Oh, and a word of advice, keep the trail and keep it mixed, but beware someone may be taping you.
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