For those of you who haven't been around for a while (like forever!), this is something just for fun. I didn't write the Tuck Tale. Nor did I have any part in its genesis. But I see no reason to allow the Tale to die unnoticed and unmourned. It is, after all, the origin of the concept of "pack tuckerization" that's been perpetuated at the several annual Rucks.
One year, in fact, the original "Friar Tuck" came to the PA Ruck to see how and why we were abusing his name. I believe he left satisfied that it was being done in a good cause. But this page..... and this Tale..... are for Kahley, a friend that we miss greatly.
The Tale is even, well... "mostly true"...kind of, and explains why we talk about having our packs 'tucked' or 'tuckerized'. So gather 'round kiddies......
The Tale of Friar Tuck
and the Fair Maid
Once upon a time, in a state far from the AT, there was a fair maid. No pampered princess content in a pinky palace, she was a Gypsy in both heart and soul. And she craved an adventure..to walk for 2000 miles. So she soared thru the sky to the land called Georgia where she meant a kind man named Sir Milt who packed her on his steed and took her to the Mountain called Springer. Here she would find the trail to that most holy of mountains, Katahdin and she would begin her hike. The day grew old and night was nigh so the Lady Gypsy and Sir Milt sought shelter near the Mountain.
On the way, they met a stranger named Friar Tuck. He seemed an affable sort and Sir Milt knew Gypsy would meet many men on her journey, so he bid her much luck and ado and left in the night for his own home far away. The affable Tuck and our Gypsy spent time before sleep discussing her plan to walk from the land called Georgia to the land called Maine. "But prithee, fair maid" asked Tuck. "why dost thou carry such a heavy load. It will be cumbersome and cause you injury that will slow your trip!"
"But Friar" said Gypsy, "I need all these things to keep me whilst on my way! I have very little. What would you have me cast aside?" Such an invitation could not be ignored and Friar Tuck pounced on our Gypsy's pack tossing things hither and yon. "A trowel..use your foot. A comb....use your fingers. Your tent has a floor..why carry a second!" "Bottles and bits were flung far and wide until only her underwear remained inside. "No" cried our Gypsy fit to be tied. One pair" said the Friar as he cast the others aside.
When her pack had been plundered, he glanced at maid Gypsy. She started to giggle. He thought, "is she tipsy?" She laughed at the pile that she no longer needed and thanked the kind Tuck. But the gleam in her eye said she kept a secret.
As dawn broke our Gypsy and Tuck parted ways. Her steps were lighter and her heart even more so. She had hidden her treasure from the affable Friar. Her teensy little deodorant was safe.
So off she went to walk 2000 miles ....a trip under construction as this tale is told. And when madmen and women go hiking to Maine, the tale is retold so we remember his name. Kind Tuck....Wise Tuck left her only one pair.
And we wonder still, what he did with her spares