Claude Ramsey

     Moving down a narrow deer path through monster hardwoods I discovered old, dead, hollow chestnut trees still able to stand. All the chestnut trees had died, the blight had come and killed them all. Those that died standing left trunks big enough for hunters to build fires and warm themselves. Many old hollow chestnut trees would be smoke stained and contain a fire pit. It was good shelter for those that hunted and drank after dark. The farther I walked up this path the nicer it got. Slowly climbing I was seeing different kinds of trees. No sign of human life. Not one old can, not one wrapper or cigarette filter, only trees, squirrels, birds and deer. I wasn't lost, I could have turned around and gone back the way I came. For some reason that didn't seem logical. What's the worst that could happen? There was plenty of water in the streams. The upward climb became a level path with a view of shadows growing longer off the huge red oak and poplar trees. It was also getting colder, a strange phenomena for someone born in the tropics. It slowly came to me that I was far from "Nobody's Mountain". If I turned around now it would be dark and cold as hell by the time I get back. Looking around for some mystic option I found a sign. Down below the ridge was smoke. Where there is smoke there is always someone. Heading straight down off the ridge, walking through big walnut, beech and ash, I come to an old chestnut rail fence in perfect shape. Not a piece out of place. An incredible antique wooden rail fence made from trees that would die and not rot. Two dogs were barking, I heard them before I saw them. He was right behind them wearing old overalls and a small felt hat. His feet were bare. He was a living ghost, it was Deliverance meets Wayne's World. I damn near bolted.         Continue Story