My first encounter with Helen was an ordeal to remember. I had just shown up at the Leard Blockade for the first time and was in an induction meeting for the camp when this explosion of a person came barreling in with ferocious dread-locks flying out the top of a headband, rugged hiking boots, and cuts and bruises all up her arms and legs. She reminded me of a wild bird who accidentally flew indoors.
She encompassed the whole room with a whirlwind of cackling laughter and a wild story of falling down a gravel hill under circumstances I could not manage to wrap my head around. Then she was gone.
I thought to myself “what on earth have you gotten yourself into!” I was unsettled but couldn’t help but want to know more.
By the next time I came to the blockade a couple weeks later I found my own cackling laughter mixing in with Helen’s and have since managed to perturb a few new camp members myself.