Finding Code

She grabbed her crampons, phone and keys. Her 18 month old son was already snug in his baby carrier, swung high up on her upper back and shoulders. After releasing her maniacal dog from the trunk, who darted off up the snow covered trail that ran parallel with the empty skill hill, she followed in earnest. 2021 had started with tremendous hope but instead mankind seemed to be tumbling into a deeper, seemingly hollow, abyss. The mountain cleared her head. Made her feel alive. Collected her thoughts. Usually around forty five minutes, the ascent was challenging yet invigorating. Through the forest, following the meandering trail. Snow shoes had carved a decent thoroughfare, but the deep snow gave the familiar path a new sense of adventure. Listening to her son singing and cooing behind her, she smiled, content in the moment, enjoying the sun peaking through the snow covered trees, onto her face. Upon reaching a small foot bridge, she slowed to navigate the path, taking extra care over the rougher terrain. While watching her footing, she noticed something odd and rather incongruous. Peaking out through the carpet of snow was a small, black moleskin notebook.

She paused, unsure what to do. Her hands were already full, not to mention keeping track of her dog who was galavanting up ahead. The notebook would surely fall into the river below, or be enveloped by the heavy snowfall expected that night. After a quick glance around, clearly noone in sight, she reached down, grabbed the notebook, stuffed it in her pocket and continued on her hike.

At the parking lot, life hurtled back into overdrive. The notebook was placed swiftly into the side compartment of her bunker-like van. The daily routine since the pandemic had been chaotic; managing multiple children, virtual learning, the house, a small business; all this while attempting to inject fun, laughter and love into the family. Now home, the baton was passed back as she was welcomed by shrieks, cries and yelps, her husband retreating quickly downstairs as she jumped back into the foray.

It wasn’t until later that week she gave the notebook a second thought. In between serving breakfast and tripping over an expertly made pillow-fort, she almost missed the segment blurting out during the morning news. New to the area, having left a nearby city paralyzed by lockdown, a young man was desperate. A dedicated entrepreneur, he carried his notes everywhere (even hiking, it seemed). A frantic search ensued after he realized he had misplaced his moleskin notebook.

After a tumultuous couple of days, he had found himself on local radio. But not before word of mouth had excited hoards of treasure hunters, frantically combing the snow covered hills in search of the notebook. Funnily enough, various social media posts about parked cars lining the side roads of the mountain and running clubs hitting the trails armed with head torches and their GPS devices had escaped the current proprietor of the notebook. Her days were barely punctuated by a breath let alone 'down time'. A brief message exchange with an acquaintance alerted her to a 'reward' being talked about throughout the community, but she downplayed it as local gossip (common place in small towns). The preoccupation with homeschooling meant little energy for much more. Her spare time was spent book-keeping and researching. Her husband had worked hard for years, insidious burn out prickling through every pore. Times were manageable but could certainly be better.

The grating, garish chatter from the radio snapped her back. "Cripes"... The hike! She fetched the note book, still lying nonchalantly in the car and wondered how to reunite this fateful oracle with the bereft hiker. Flicking through the pages, there was neither a name nor phone number. However doing so made her pause for thought and wonder at the diligently written notes and beautifully annotated code. Hundreds and hundreds of lines of numbers, letters and symbols, clearly of great value to the owner but frankly alien to anyone else. A gnawing feeling urged her to call the radio station after which her curiosity about the note book was quickly answered.

After a flurry of activity on social media, the two hikers connected. The young man was jubilant and overwhelmed with gratitude. Within the hour, a sleek courier service arrived at her door. Strict instructions had been given regarding the pick up, as if managing a rare jewel. The owner of the book invested and traded Crypto Currency. His notes held the key to hundreds of wallets that housed his Crypto Currency assets. Ideas, trades, tweets and goals for his investments were all inside. A treasure trove of information, a modern day gold mine. Through their messaging, the gentleman’s plight was discussed and a brief history of why he was hiking that day. He also found inspiration on the local trails, something that translated into clearer investment decisions and a more grounded approach to an extremely volatile industry.

Several days later, the exchange felt more like a distant memory. Life was happening at both light speed and slow motion. The pandemic had reshaped history and she was becoming more and more aware of the fine lines on her face and dry cracked skin on her hands. Bundling the kids outside, to her surprise and delight, another mysterious object caught her eye; a beautifully manicured package was protruding out of her mailbox. Inside was what looked like a brand new flash drive and a new moleskin notebook. The notebook contained meticulous instructions on how to set up her Crypto Currency wallet which, once activated, would receive half a Bitcoin: a generous thank you for her help that day. Riches sent from person to person through cyber-space.

A blush of hope enveloped her. Her kids were whooping with joy in the front yard, building an igloo out of ice blocks. Her future looked bright.