Marion Young

As I engage with the waterways, mountains and woods of Maine, I’ll also be paying attention to the stories of my trailmates. This semester, I’m joining Bowdoin Outing Club (BOC) trips across Maine’s mountains, rivers and woods. In this column, I’ll introduce the people I hike with and share the stories we trade on the trail.

Here’s a list of the typical sounds you hear on a hike: crunching leaves and rocks beneath your feet, a chipmunk darting around a fallen log, wind racing through the branches of the trees and, if you’re lucky, you’ll hear the notes of the “Star Wars Main Theme” performed on a harmonica.

On an idyllic late September day, as I looked up to see the deep green of the western Maine woods ascend into oranges and reds and yellows, I hiked with first year Taylor Amuso. As we backpacked on our BOC trip in the Bigelow Mountain Range, I was serenaded by her harmonica rendition of the “Star Wars” theme.

It’s standard to throw your latest writing seminar reading or a deck of cards in a day pack for downtime entertainment, and while that is still true for Taylor, she decided it would be a good idea to also pack her latest pastime: her harmonica.

At 6 a.m. on September 26, Taylor, our two trip leaders—Anika Nagpal ’27 and Tess McDonald ’29—and I met at the Schwartz Outdoor Leadership Center to prepare our two day trip in the Bigelow Mountain Range. Hiking began around 10 a.m, with a plan to set up camp by 4 or 5 p.m.

For lunch, we stopped at a small clearing, and as we started to make our own hummus and arugula wraps, the magical harmonica performance began.

“I’ve been playing for about four months now. I started because I got carpal tunnel,” Taylor said. “I played the flute for eight years, and I then couldn’t really do that anymore because of my wrists. So I was like, ‘Okay, well, what can I do?’”

Taylor’s answer was “Piano Man” by Billy Joel, and, seriously, Billy Joel style.

“I was thinking this is a pretty inexpensive thing. So I found one at Bull Moose for eight dollars. Then I decided I was going to find a course, it was about two hundred dollars, but it was so worth it,” Amuso said. “I’ve learned so many cool songs that I’ve loved for years, and it was a good way to immerse myself in those songs.”

As we hiked to our view of Avery’s Peak and our lean-tos for the night, our eyes and ears were treated with beginnings and ends: Maine’s foliage reminding us of the summer that has passed and the next seasons to come, and also the anticipation for the next tune as Taylor finished each melody. We were already giddy with the thought of her “Country Roads, Take Me Home” for the two hour ride back. As we took in the view we had earned from our climb, the wind whipped at our faces and carried Taylor’s soft thrums of Eric Clapton’s “Layla.”

In the afternoon sun, we lounged at Horace’s Pond, sitting on rocks and reading, letting words and not our feet this time take us on new adventures. Taylor and I finally got to have a conversation that wasn’t muddy with heavy breathing from our five mile hike. We watched as the gusts swooped down and kissed the pond, sending ripples to our feet.

“I was born in Georgia, but we left soon after because my parents found a place in Waterville, Maine,” Taylor said. “Before Bowdoin, my family would always hike together a lot. We didn’t have a lot of money, and hiking and being outdoors was ‘free,’ but then I kind of fell in love with it. It’s given me an outlet to be away from all the chaos of the world, to just see the natural beauty of things and realize that there’s just such an expansive world out there and it doesn’t have to be confined.”

If she were to tell freshman year of high school Taylor where she was now, the one word she described that her younger self would be is “proud.”

“At first, I felt like college was never something that I kind of really thought of, or could at least be in my future. And joining Upward Bound, they showed me that there is a way for someone from an underserved background,” Taylor said.

On the return hike the next morning, the sky decided to pour. We tipped our faces to the sky as we walked, and we listened to the rain drops patter on the leaves and branches, reminding us of the many melodies that had made our weekend—the soft breeze through the tree tops, the laughter as we struggled to solve each other’s riddles and the song of the Taylor’s harmonica, a new voice in autumn’s chorus of color.