The Strange & Curious Tale of the Last True Hermit.

For nearly thirty years, a phantom haunted the woods of Central Maine. Unseen and unknown, he lived in secret, creeping into homes in the dead of night and surviving on what he could steal. To the spooked locals, he became a legend—or maybe a myth. They wondered how he could possibly be real. Until one day last year, the hermit came out of the forest.

The hermit set out of camp at midnight, carrying his backpack and his bag of break-in tools, and threaded through the forest, rock to root to rock, every step memorized. Not a boot print left behind. It was cold and nearly moonless, a fine night for a raid, so he hiked about an hour to the Pine Tree summer camp, a few dozen cabins spread along the shoreline of North Pond in central Maine. With an expert twist of a screwdriver, he popped open a door of the dining hall and slipped inside, scanning the pantry shelves with his penlight.

Five pages long, but definitely worth the read!

http://www.gq.com/news-politics/newsmakers/201409/the-last-true-hermit?currentPage=1

A great tale and ^ ^ excellent article.

WS Thread...ME - North Pond Hermit captured; suspected of 1000+ burglaries in 27 wilderness years

Ooops! Woofy!

I would like to think that some of our missing persons here at websleuths have chosen this, are out there, somewhere, content.

Tulessa said:

Ooops! Woofy!

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It's okay, T.! I'd almost forgotten I'd done that thread. Anyway, anyone interested can click on my link to see older articles on that thread, then come back and discuss here.

I'm curious about why, if his family had 50 or so wooded acres, he chose to go elsewhere? It's fascinating, but very 'Asperger's' like someone I know.

Bumping this good read.

I loved this part near the end:

"But you must have thought about things," I said. "About your life, about the human condition."

Chris became surprisingly introspective. "I did examine myself," he said. "Solitude did increase my perception. But here's the tricky thing—when I applied my increased perception to myself, I lost my identity. With no audience, no one to perform for, I was just there. There was no need to define myself; I became irrelevant. The moon was the minute hand, the seasons the hour hand. I didn't even have a name. I never felt lonely. To put it romantically: I was completely free."

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