With a name like ‘The Williamsburg Ruins,’ one expects a certain level of detriment so, imagine my surprise, when I arrive at the foot of a towering stone cabin, instead. I heave my pack to the ground and wait for the map to update on my phone. Just one bar out here- the real outdoors. A bird cries overhead and something moves about in a bush. My pack leans toward the cabin, slowly tips over, slowly expels my water bottle from the side pocket.
It’s been a longer day, but a nice one. Cold when I started walking but just right for a hike. The trouble is that ‘The Williamsburg Ruins’ are normally only a mile or so from the road but last year’s ice melt wiped out a bridge that nobody is in a hurry to replace and now the walk is nearer to five miles. That’s five miles if, like me, you attempt to do it in a straight line. Walking the road is closer to ten.
But it worked out, for once. The way was easy and, even though I probably packed too much for what amounted to a day hike, I feel healthy. A little shoulder strain. A decent amount of sweat. I…
Why the fuck was my bag so heavy?
‘Read this again.
There’s a reasonable chance something strange has happened just now. Are you looking at the ruins of an old stone cabin? If yes: no need to panic. There is a map of this area in the appendices. Pick up a brick and take it with you when you go. Are you looking at a relatively intact stone cabin? If yes: no need to panic immediately. Have you, consciously or unconsciously carried bricks along with you? If yes: allow a minor amount of panic to fuel the next few actions you take. You are in danger. Take the bricks and leave. ‘The Williamsburg Ruins’ should not be allowed to reform.’
-traveler
