OPERATION STARFISH

The "Angel of the Trails" was recently struck by a car and nearly killed. She could really use our help.

Legendary hiker EdenH.; trail name-- "Starfish." Left, earlier this year at the AZ-UT border;

Center, as her AI superhero avatar; and Right, In a Colorado hospital after the horrific accident.

EdenH./a.k.a. "Starfish," (age? surprisingly older than she looks) was on a hike through Colorado this past August when she ventured, as hikers regularly do, off the trail and into a nearby town for survival provisions. An hour later she lay unconscious in an emergency helicopter en route to a hospital after an SUV suddenly veered onto the sidewalk and rammed her clean through the wall of a store. Lucky to be alive, she is nonetheless very seriously injured. But before getting into more details of Starfish and her present situation, some history and context is in order. We begin a few decades ago in the western Massachusetts city of Northampton.

By 1985 Northampton had become a bustling college community with plenty of good restaurants and a vibrant night life. Right after graduation I began managing a hoity-toity French restaurant in town (see BOTTLED FREAKING HEAVEN) while a friend almost exactly my age named Leonard Adam Tarlin (he went by "Adam" then) was the night manager at a seafood restaurant that hosted a DJ and dancing after the dinner shift. Adam was blessed with a scintillating, razor-sharp intellect and a correspondingly prickly sense of humor. He had been something of an outlier at Hampshire College... a significant accomplishment at an "alternative" institution that eschewed grades and formal majors.

Few in Northampton would dispute that Adam was a bona fide genius, the guy who had read every book and seen every movie that anyone ever heard of... someone who could hold his own debating most any topic imaginable. He tended to arouse strong feelings, as he could come off as lovably scoundrelous to some and simply annoying to others; he was often reflexively contrary, and yet always the old-school proper gentleman, especially toward women. Quite a mix, this fellow.

Adam and I were, if only by default, big fish in a small community. We publicly drank and laughed together late into many nights, always marveling at our increasingly apparent similarities. We were both political junkies and loved crossword puzzles. We both married our Smith College girlfriends and promptly fathered children. We both moved out of town before the 1990's came along and ruined everything.

Flash forward to the late 1990's. I was quite surprised to stumble upon Adam at the lodge atop Mt. Greylock in northwesternmost Massachusetts. I had just jogged all the way up to the summit from the base, while Adam had walked there all the way from Georgia. Mutual respect. He was unfamiliarly thin and fit from all the hiking, and yet he still chain-smoked unfiltered Camels and swilled bourbon from his ever-present hip-flask... even while he was actually hiking. And his name, he firmly declared, was now "Baltimore Jack," his trail moniker.

And Baltimore Jack was quickly becoming a legend on the Appalachian Trail.

Say what you will about the federal government, but they've managed to establish an extensive trail system so that we the people can enjoy nature's magnificence on foot. Hiking has become an obsession for many, and the "triple crown" of American hiking trails is comprised of the Appalachian Trail (AT)-- 2,194 miles, Georgia to Maine; The Continental Divide Trail (CDT)-- 3,028 miles, Mexico to Canada over the Rockies; and the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT)-- 2,653 miles, Mexico to Canada through California, Oregon, and Washington. Completing all three in one's lifetime is considered a noteworthy accomplishment. Jack patiently explained the subculture that exists along these and the other great American trails; e.g., that hikers refer to each other as "trail trash," that hiking speed for its own sake is frowned upon, that backpacks are really heavy, and that what happens on the trail stays on the trail, unless you're talking with fellow hikers. And they all have trail names.

In addition to the ABC's of hiking life, Jack filled me in about his non-trail circumstances. One year between his AT through-hikes, a female Dartmouth freshman and AT newbie let him sleep beneath her bed (which they elevated with cinder-blocks) in the girl's dorm all winter. Such was Jack's adult existence since I had last seen him-- no longer married, hiking all spring, summer, and fall, and then managing to survive the winter by working in a video store, a coffee shop, or whatever, year after year. I eventually figured out that the Appalachian Trail was essentially a treadmill upon which Jack could outrun his ferocious demons, the kind that can arise from permanent grief. (His mother died when he was 9, his father when he was 17.) In his hiker iteration, Jack's youthful snark had softened and he was outwardly genial, and yet his torment still seethed beneath the surface. But the trail... the trail and the life he built around it provided his measure of protection and solace.

Jack's knees eventually gave out from the thousands of hilly miles under an 80-lb. backpack. Unable to hike, his weight accordingly ballooned to its previous maximum. And then, as if the demons he had long been eluding could finally overtake him (as would the irreversible physical damage from all the bourbon and Camels) he suddenly fell seriously ill in the spring of 2016 and went to a nearby hospital. Three days later, Baltimore Jack's loving, generous, and deeply broken heart stopped beating. He was 57. Along with hundreds if not thousands of hikers whose lives he had touched with his kindness, his valuable advice, and his scrumptious lodge lasagna, I was staggered with grief.

From appalachiantrail.org-- Leonard Adam Tarlin, best known as “Baltimore Jack,” passed away unexpectedly in the A.T. Community of Franklin, North Carolina on May 4, 2016. (See more HERE.)

And here in THE LEGEND OF BALTIMORE JACK is a painfully detailed account of his life.

In May of 2016 I had been looking forward to many months of lively political discussion with Jack, as it was an especially contentious election year. I felt lost. But as always, just when things seem too dark, pain too troublesome to bear, or life itself devoid of clear meaning, whoever runs this universe soon restored my equilibrium. In my profound sadness at having suddenly lost a friend who was in many ways my brother and soul-mate, I soon learned that to Jack's yin there was indeed an uncannily worthy yang... an "Angel of the Trails" to Baltimore Jack's impish devil, in the form of a lanky young nature-loving Texan--

EdenH, a.k.a. Starfish, 2015

It turned out that back in 2012 a college football teammate and his wife had become benefactors ("Trail Mom & Dad") to an earnest young long-distance hiker named EdenH.-- trail name "Starfish"-- after a chance meeting in the White Mountains of northern New Hampshire. This young woman, I learned, was in so many ways the polar opposite of Jack. She seemed to behold-- with a sprite-like, childish awe that she never outgrew-- the glorious, endless buffet that nature has laid out for us... steamy southeastern swamps and rushing mountain streams, temperate rain forests and arid deserts, towering redwoods and scrawny Joshua trees, white-capped mountaintops and vast expanses of rocky nothingness; unpolluted air and cold, crystalline night skies in which the Milky Way is clearly visible. Jack loved all that stuff too, but in retrospect he seemed to be running away from something when he was on the trail whereas Starfish delighted in running toward the amazing adventure of it all.

And Starfish has done one hell of a lot of hiking. Beginning in 2012 she completed the Appalachian Trail and the Pacific Coast Trail thrice each as well as the Continental Divide Trail (thereby achieving hiking's Triple Crown), along with the Arizona Trail (twice) and several others... amassing a ledger that comes to somewhere between 18,000 and 20,000 miles. And she is determined to finish Colorado's Collegiate Loop as soon as she is once again on her feet and physically able.

In case all this hiking sounds to the unfamiliar ear like a lifelong vacation, be it here known, Dear Reader, that Starfish is no trail bum relying on charitable donations to support some frivolous, indulgent hobby. When not actually hiking, Starfish has earned undergraduate degrees in Sociology, English, and Recreational Education, and has become a licensed massage therapist. She has also maintained a stream of hiking-related employment, with job titles ranging from tour guide in the Canadian wilderness to camp counselor to brand ambassador for hiking-related products. At the time of the recent accident, she was penning a delightful blog for THE TREK, an excellent online hiking resource.

Which brings us to OPERATION STARFISH.

The hiker known as Starfish is living proof that while external forces can crush your body, they cannot crush your spirit and soul unless you let them. As I write this, she lies in a Colorado hospital bed with multiple severe injuries from the accident described in our opening paragraph, injuries that run the length of her lithe 5'9" frame. A glance at her chart reveals a broken hip at the femur that required surgery, stitches in both legs, and an ankle broken in three places; a shoulder twice cracked, a shattered elbow, and a broken bone in one forearm; a huge laceration on the back of her head, and cervical and thoracic spine injuries that require a c-collar. Weeks will turn into months as she slowly heals, and the rehab will likely continue even longer, perhaps for years.

Meanwhile, her medical expense meter is running full speed. Insurance will surely cover a portion of the costs, but Starfish could really use our generous assistance. I hope many of you will join me in contributing to the Go Fund Me page set up by her sister... any contribution will help. But even more importantly-- please, PLEASE join OPERATION STARFISH by sharing this essay anywhere and everywhere you can on all forms of social media! And then go beyond Facebook and email a direct link to this essay to everyone you think will appreciate it. Print out this essay and give copies to friends at work and relatives.

Some of our Danny's Table essays only reach a few dozen readers; others, however, have been read and shared thousands of times by a worldwide audience. The more we all spread this essay around the Internet, the more likely it is that Starfish will be able to eliminate financial concerns from her long and arduous healing process.

Many Thanks!

DannyM. (Starfish thanks you, too!)

NOTES:

In case you missed it above, you can click on this link to donate--

Go Fund Me

If you quite understandably feel the need for verification before donating, here are some links to various news reports about the accident:

KKTV.com

Chaffee County Times

THE TREK

How about some Springsteen lyrics in memory of Leonard Adam Tarlin/Baltimore Jack--

Got a wife and kids in Baltimore, Jack

I went out for a ride and I never went back

Like a river that don't know where it's flowing

I took a wrong turn and I just kept going

Everybody's got a hungry heart

Everybody's got a hungry heart

Lay down your money and you play your part

Everybody's got a h-h-hungry heart

And finally, if all of this talk about hiking has you motivated to stock up at your local REI (Recreational Equipment Inc.) and hit the trails, here's some SENSIBLE ADVICE for getting started. (Pro-Tip: You needn't and shouldn't attempt a multi-day hike on a portion of the AT or another major trail until you've gotten sufficient experience. Start small and local.)