Seemingly another world away, Cherry and Shelley bask in the relative comfort of camp, surrounded by lush green and frolicking fowl…  compared to the moonscape our hero and benefactor now find themselves in…  I think Shelley is just a little OCD with that phone… surprised that by now the battery hasn’t gone dead as the phone constantly tries to find a signal, any signal… It must miss the city along with its owner!  Doesn’t Shelley Realize that she has been transported back to another time and place, where objects of the future do little good?

Shelley went fishing with that question, though, and is actually a bit surprised by Cherry’s answer, that she and Mark “enjoy living in a wilderness area.”  Good for Shelley to show a little couth in that she did not insert the adjective that no doubt was forming on the tip of her tongue: godforsaken wilderness area…  Oh but what fun awaits once the plane is not back when expected!

AND it would seem as though they gained in elevation since when we first took stock of their situation!  Gone are the pines that would have suggested that they weren’t on the very tip top of the mountains, only to be replaced with the barren, rocky slopes that would suggest that they are in a world devoid of life and other essential things… Even a small flock of geese glide by, looking for a place to land, flying over what looks to be quite a drop along the rocky face.

Poor Wes, foot “wrapped,” leaning against a boulder, suggesting that, in the works of Ulysses Everett McGill, “We’re in a tight spot…”

Define “long way,” Mark…  I mean how far could they be?  Far enough I suppose to have entered another distinct ecosystem…

And let’s be clear… compared to other “tight spots” we’ve seen our hero overcome, this could be the “tightest” yet, in that unlike other situations where the nemesis is a thief, a cheat, a kidnapper, or a baddy that’s all three at once, this is a test with Mark pitted against Mother Nature herself!

Oh my, Wes’s hat is the first casualty of the C*R*A*S*H… replaced by the always useful goose-down “puffy-jacket-man” coat in not quite blaze orange…  Compared to Mark’s neutral, blend-in-with-mountainside jacket, at least Wes won’t get shot at…

But let’s take stock…  they are below the tree line, which means temperature shouldn’t be terribly extreme, they probably didn’t pack any provisions for their little outing since I am sure they planned to be back to camp in time for cocktails, but it’s damn good thing they are packing, with the rifle #2 (of how many exactly? Just how expansive is this arsenal?) slung over Mark’s shoulder.

OK, they have half a chance of getting out of this one… by the time school starts in the fall, I would imagine.

A broken foot, though, that’s going be a problem…  and I don’t know that “wrapping it” (what? like a bologna sandwich?) is going to do it, Mark…

And isn’t Mark starting to look an awful lot like Tom Cruise in the second panel?  No doubt taller (I mean, who isn’t?) and certainly less crazy, but still there’s the look…

Even with the bad proportioning of the cabin/ cockpit windows which makes the plane’s fuselage look grotesquely large, I will give credit where it is due- the fact that this is a SEA PLANE with PONTOONS, the artist has faithfully included the CLEATS on the PONTOONS, which are de rigueur for such a craft, as in how else would a person secure such a craft and keep it from floating off once brought down?  Of course, the cleats will have little or no use on dry land, and since said pontoon in the second frame is now a crumpled, twisted mass along with other airplane parts, it matters little…  But I digress…

So now the plane goes, “CRASH,” in equally large, red letters, equal to the “CRUNCH” from yesterday, except that they have thrown in an extra-large, red ‘R’ (or is that an ‘A’?) just in case the dear readers of this saga could not piece that one together…  But then that also suggests the grind-it-out nature of metal scraping along dry ground, when such an activity was never designed into the plane in the first place… or the sound of two frightened grown men going ‘AAAAAHHHH!’  Just for the record, I wouldn’t hold that against them.

But yes. Oh. Dear.  Will our Hero and his client walk away from this one?  Will Wes’s hat survive?  Will Mark’s hair be mussed?  Tomorrow’s installment will tell!

Ooh, that’s going to leave a mark…  Mark Trail, that is… (ha, ha…) but seriously folks,  the port wing has been cleaved asunder from the failing aircraft, our intrepid hero and the benefactor of Woods and Wildlife Magazine are hurtling into the canopy, large sounds are being emanated, and good heavens what WILL become of them?  Good thing Editor Bill Ellis is blithely unaware of the peril unfolding… his meal ticket and favorite writer are about to go down!  Now THIS is real action!  No more “My cell phone doesn’t work/ I hate the outdoors” from ol’ whats-her-name… We have real danger going on here…

Assuming that Wes has the chops to set this craft down (oh that’s right the plane “isn’t responding”) he and Mark should be able to continue this story line as a study in survival.  Taking notes everyone?  What Would Mark Do?

Well, let’s at least hope that the plane has the requisite arrangement of survival gear, although given that they couldn’t get her “back over water,” I imagine that they won’t be using their life preservers or seat bottom cushions, clutched tightly to their chest, arms folded and hands locked through the straps… “Hey, were you guys paying attention during the pre-flight?? I bet you weren’t…”

This is what we call, in the writing business, a PLOT INFLECTION.  I think, anyway, because I am not actually IN the writing business.  I just hack away and let flow whatever comes to mind…  but let it be known that there are no clumsier plot inflections than in a Mark Trail story line.   Or more imagery or metaphor…  I mean where else could an inanimate object – a plane- get so scared as to go all ashen and pale?? We have a problem, Mark, the union in China, or wherever this strip goes to get colored in, is sending us signals that they aren’t going to work for the “bowl of rice a day” that is in their current contract…

And I don’t pretend to be an expert in avionics or an aircraft engineer, but is the plane getting larger, I mean relative to the windows?  If the windows are an indication of relative cockpit size, then suddenly this beast of a craft has the cargo capacity rivaling a C-130…  Is that the issue? Is the plane growing?  Or does Wes just want to secretly put-er-down and create the tension that is so badly needed in this particular story?  So far the Whiny wasn’t Working, so let’s introduce some real drama!  The Trail-verse’s own version of LOST!  Will they go back in time?  Meet up with Charles Lindbergh or Amelia Earhart?  Stay tuned!

“We will be JUST FINE, man with the Bengal Tiger hat band…”  And off the MEN go, up into the wild blue.  Spending their valuable, limited resources on a joy ride to go look at SHEEP.  Really?  Hard to know where this one is going.  Hard to not repeat previous story lines… but then that has never stopped Trail, Inc. before, and it’s never stopped me from waiting impatiently for the next installment…

“Well, Mark, if you have been paying any attention at all, you would know that so far you are failing mightily in what was your prime directive- getting my sour-puss, outdoors hating wife to appreciate what is my passion and where I am pouring my hard earned money in support of ‘Woods and Wildlife Magazine.’  No matter how many times I have told her to ‘Not ask me about my business’ she persists.  If this little gambit doesn’t work, I will have to kill her…  now we wouldn’t want that, would we?  Let that not be on YOUR conscience…”

Showin’ her “A woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle” chops… And not so much with a shotgun where she’d have many chances with many shot dispersing after the target, but with a rifle!  What a dead-eye! Kind of begs the question as to why they chose to fly in CANNED food, since they have to pack out what trash they brought in, and the weight would certainly have to be a factor with four people plus gear in that little plane… but this is 1953 (isn’t it?) and freeze-dried food and lighter packaging hasn’t made into the vernacular, if in fact cell phones being out of range have…Meanwhile, Shelley is dabbing herself with a kerchief, not having figured out that wearing a woolen turtleneck sweater is bound to make a person hot…

At least now we know what Cherry’s up to when Mark is off on his “assignments.”  She is practicing, polishing her guns, and shilling for the NRA… Notice Mark nestled calmly and figuratively in the crook of Cherry’s neck, enjoying a draw on his pipe (when’s the last time we saw that??) as if this is all too familiar… I guess now we get to see the Real Cherry Blossom.  It is almost May and high time!

The product of good schooling!  And relentless nagging by mother and school marm!  Using the objective form of the pronoun and a avoiding the classic blunder of thinking one should use ‘I’ instead of “me.”  My heart sings!  Nouveau Riche and refined.  Would we expect nothing less…  That he so willingly is in on the “take pictures of sheep” excuse is funny.  Really?  Mark? Like you don’t have enough pictures of wildlife?  But here’s a challenge for the writers of Mark Trail- Create a story line that involves neither fishing nor cameras.  I dare you to try!

Meanwhile in the third panel, Shelley, hand raised, is casting her vote to stay behind with Cherry…  I am sorry- was this subject to a vote? Do we care what whiny noise comes out of your mouth next?    But where will the attention stay? On Mark and Wesley as they fly off, or on the ladies, who will dish dirt on their respective life partners??? Oh boy, this should be interesting…

Someone please explain to the whiny person (he says resisting a stronger term) that cell phone reception is a function of proximity to a transmitting tower… and that perched high in a mountain range, one is probably well beyond the 2-3 mile range offered up by said towers… which is why one typically sees them dotting the landscape even along I-35 heading south from Minneapolis to Des Moines…  But yet she stares at her device, no doubt a Galaxy or an iPhone judging by the shape (was there ever a Trail story that featured a brick phone or a flip phone??) and looks peevishly at it, wondering, “Why won’t it talk to me??”  And who is it she wants to talk to, or what is it she is after?  The latest Kardashian Dirt?  One has to wonder…

Turn page to the greatest Cherry Trail “look” of all time… Sort of a cross between Lockjaw and “what <on earth> am I doing here??”  Not that long ago, while still in the relative comfort of Lost Forest, the girls were bonding and chatting it up… what a difference a couple days and a few thousand feet of elevation makes!  Meanwhile, Mark, ever the schemer, and in direct reflection of wanting to get the hell away from this annoying female-type human being, doubles down on the ol’ “Let’s go flying and take pictures of Bighorns gambit.”  In other words, “If you don’t mind (please…) doing a little flying, we could get the hell away from your wife, who clearly is beyond redemption…” Maybe that’s why Cherry is gritting her teeth and setting her jaw- “not without me, you don’t- I want to get away from this too, you know…”  If being spoiled and whiny is the makings of great drama, we have now set the table!

“Oh, I don’t know…  Lying about, being served on hand and foot, just like dear old mum taught me…” We never think about accents that the characters might bring… or possible back stories… what if Shelley is ROYALTY, and against her parents’ best wishes, the LORD and LADY KUMQUAT, she married this AMERICAN SELF MADE MAN… <<gasp…>> who makes her do all these things against her will?  While I appreciate the need to move the “story” along, I think her patience level is ridiculously short… or maybe that indeed is the point, and the plot resolution will be her coming around to the fact that life in the great out-of-doors is actually noble and good… <<yawn>> really?  Where are the bad guys, the smuggling ring, the kidnappers when you really need them??

The hapless, defeated look on Wesley’s face in panel three says it all… “What was I thinking when…??”

Mark in the background, cap on his head, exhibiting perfect form… so I guess it WAS him carrying the bags and fishing poles yesterday.  Stay tuned… tomorrow… Enter the Grizzly??

Oh Dear, Shelley can’t get a signal on her phone…  So once again the present intersects with what appears to be a throw-back to an older, simpler time…  And what is that on your hat, Wesley?  Leopard? Bengal Tiger?  Difficult to tell, but either way it makes you out for what you are- Apex Predator, Alpha Male… Good thing that Mark is secure in his role as guide and factotum…

I am having trouble figuring out how this is going to get even slightly suspenseful, other than the tension that Shelley is bringing to the scene in the form of incessant whining… Despite Mark’s first priority of making sure that the “Ladies” are “comfortable.”  But where is the privy, Mark?  What of their more delicate needs???

And what is this in the first panel- did the Chapmans bring a Valet?

Has Jack Elrod been watching too much Downton Abbey??

He appears to be toting a leather valise and a fishing rod case…  Orvis?  L.L. Bean?

Or is that Mark- but I have never seen him wear a ball cap before…

When Bighorn Sheep turn their thoughts to banging heads and Grizzly awake, looking for their first meal… I don’t know, but the Bighorn in the foreground of panel two looks a might dazed…  I hope he won his battle!  But considering that Lost Forest is in GEORGIA, and Bighorn Sheep tend to roam the WESTERN UNITED STATES, that little plane has quite the range!!  And since the RHODODENDRON’s native range is the middle Atlantic states on down, this is one confused ecosystem…  unless the namer of said lake was from the east and missed the flowering bush and so decided to name a lake after it despite the fact that the climate is much too cold and dry…

And Apparently when you are a VERY RICH PERSON, which obviously Wesley Chapman is, hiking is optional… “Let’s take the sea plane… there WILL be a place to put it down, won’t there, Trail?  Considering that Mark already had a nice place picked out “near a ranger station,” that Wesley had no prior knowledge of, this is all very coincidental…

…not far from a RANGER STATION?  Whatever part of M Trail Inc. scripts this dialogue must know I get up every morning and look to make fun of it… “Secluded area not far from a Ranger Station.”  Uh, OK…  I guess we’ll know soon enough why that’s important…  I am still dying to know who the blonde is in the framed portrait on Shelley’s nightstand…  These things can’t go unmentioned, and certainly they would not have gone to the trouble of inking it if it did not feature in some future plot point… But isn’t Wesley the picture of success under an old-time/ robber baron/ we love profit era?  ***sigh*** As we head into another round of “Teddy Roosevelt and the Trust busters,” we can only look upon such vim and vigor and say, “we knew you when…”

Love the first panel- no rack-focus here…  cranking the aperture down and keeping near and far in crisp focus, we get to see male and female bonding over cups of strong black coffee… Wesley, with his hand on Mark’s shoulder and Shelley, who by now must be sweltering in her ribbed turtleneck sweater, remaining nonplussed by the notion of sleeping on the ground under canvas, regarding the whole thing as “silly…”  Careful there, Lassie, you have just entered the Trail-verse, where such notions are met with less than an approving nod.  Mark’s Cherubic face, on display in panel two, makes us think that he’s on the verge of tears, so excited is he to go in to the woods, not on assignment…

How many times have we remarked, while watching a story arc build ever too slowly, “OK, enough already…  can we just get on with this?  It would seem that our writer was anxious to have Shelley employ her Dale Carnegie Training (Always use the person’s name when interacting with new-found acquaintances…) in panel two where she blurts out awkwardly “MARK AND CHERRY TRAIL!”  Not so much as a question mark in that offering, so confident is she!  But then it must be chilly up in the clouds, otherwise, why would our visitors be so wrapped in warm clothing!

Channeling Howard Hughes, Wes (I’d rather call him Wesley) Thompson, is resplendent in his fedora and sweater/ blazer combination…  wringing his hands in anticipation of taking to the woods with one Mark Trail, whom he secretly wishes he could “chuck it all” and just be…  Ever smug, Mark busily answers to the thought that Wesley is apparently having, otherwise his blurting out of “YES, I AM LOOKING FORWARD TO THE CAMPING TRIP” just seems a little awkward.  But then, that’s Mark.

Thank goodness we only have to endure one more awkward hand gesture from Editor Bill Ellis…  Seriously, what is he doing with his right hand?  Is he in mid-thrust on a hand shake, looking to take Mark’s Manly Paw into his?  Or is the hand going to continue its upward trajectory and find paydirt inside the Editorial Schnozzola?

But wait… “Time away from Work?”  What on earth are you talking about Mark?  Work?  You?  Huh.  Like what you do is SOOOO stressful. I don’t know, perhaps I underestimate what burdens are brought to the life of a self-righteous Nature Writer…

But let’s tarry no longer on that, let’s get to the transformational pose being struck by one Cherry Trail- And unlike in the Northern tier where Spring has hardly made a ripple on the collective populace, in Atlanta, home to Lost Forest, Spring is clearly in full bloom and Mark and Cherry are enjoying lunch, picnic style, with Cherry pulling out all the stops with the halter top and short shorts!!  Andy, Turn away! There may be shenanigans in the making!  And oh, could the bread be any Whiter?  We have serious diversity issues in the Trail-verse- even the bread has refused to yield…

He says with his finger gesturing mightily… But what exactly is Mark doing with his left thumb in the first panel?  And, um, Bill?  Do you ever actually SIT BEHIND your desk or in your comfy chair, or is furniture to you just so much stuff to lean on??

“You could set up a camp and act as a guide…” Well, duh.  Isn’t that what one does when one “escorts” people on a camping trip?  Get things set up and make sure they come back in one piece?  And Heaven forbid Mark should have to interact with Shelley! “So, Cherry, you down with this?  Don’t know these people, but I have been led to believe that this Shelley chick is a little squeamish, so no ‘Toads in foot of her sleeping bag’ trick, OK?” And what of the other Trail family? Is Rusty to Stay with Doc?  Does Andy get to go?  Tension mounts!!

“Never is heard, a discouraging word, and the skies are not cloudy all day…” Appreciate the look on Mark’s face.  The Calm, the Equanimity.  The knowledge that life is good.  Roles are distinct.  “I live by my own code and always come out on top.  I can play in the woods or the city, it doesn’t matter. I am Trail…”  Check out the Hat (and the pose) on the lady in the background.  Clearly they are on Madison or Park Avenue!

OK back to the story… Editor Bill Ellis has another favor to ask of Mark… And by the way, is Trail on salary here, or does he get paid by the story?  Oh that’s right, it doesn’t matter.  He married into the Lost Forest Empire, complete with swanky log cabin and a bottomless cup of coffee!  Shelley, with an ‘ey’ on the end, a girl who after years of shacking up with the wealthy benefactor, who finally made an honest girl out of her,  (sound familiar Mark? How long had you been stringing Cherry along before you made a commitment to her?) now wants to “fix” her and cure her of the misguided notion that the Great Outdoors is ‘icky.’

Ok let’s count the ways in which this scene is truly anachronistic… First off, it would appear that in the Trail-verse, Print Media is still alive and well…  the internet has yet to make its presence felt… have you picked up an issue of Time Magazine lately? It’s wafer thin… Second, the sumptuous office of the editor- big wooden desk, built to take the full weight of a grown man leaning against (suggestively) without yielding an inch, the overstuffed chair to drape oneself over (even more suggestively) third, the fact that both men are dressed like a scene out of MadMen- full suits and ties, and nice pocket square, Mark… And finally, the fact that Mark still gets all cleaned up to go into town to meet with his editor face to face… I think that is charming

And why is everyone an OLD friend?  Like they have known each other since the Pleistocene?  SO glad Mark found the time to actually write the article he was assigned…  He has truly superhuman abilities, in between tackling embodied evil wearing fins (shorts ones, but fins nonetheless) and bragging about saving Rusty, apparently he was able to crack off a few thousand quality words…

Not the subtlest scene change ever executed, that’s for sure…  but no matter…

Shelley and Wes, Wes and Shelley… one of them sure knows Trail, since Mark has effectively created, even from Lost Forest, and only writing about nature, established zero degrees of separation for everyone on the planet…

Another swanky scene, though- dig the gilded frame and the poofy valance… the fine bone china cup in Shelley’s delicate hand, while sitting up in bed with her robe on, as if she didn’t expect someone to come in a wait on her…

“I’d like to talk to you” usually precedes something of significant weight, portends and ominous tone… But no, Wes just wants to know if Shelly might not like to “go on a camping trip.”  “Oh Wes, honey, you know that my idea of roughing it is not having a mint on my pillow…”  “Don’t worry your pretty little head, my dear, you know Caruthers will be with us to wipe our backsides and such… oh c’mon, it will be fun!”

But who is in the picture on the nightstand???     Not a little girl, that’s for sure, she seems to have Daddy’s golden, flowing tresses…