8/2/18
If I remember correctly, around midnight tonight is the
second anniversary of a walk I took in the woods.
After reading @hollycrowned ‘s musings, I have my own
thoughts about what CipherHunt meant to me. At the end of the day, yeah, it was
a strange, cool fan thing Alex threw together, but… I think everyone who was
there know that it was also something more. The further it retreats into the
past, the clearer it becomes to me that I was profoundly affected.
So… some kind of cross between creative nonfiction and inane ramblings to follow, with a little candid talk about my own mental stuff. I don’t know. It just turned out to be a very, very weird, personal event in my life that I hang on to.
……………….
Two years ago, I was a pretty different person. I’d just
moved back to Oregon after about nine years away, and it was unexpectedly hard
to deal with the fact that I’d left this place where as I was born as a child,
and returned as a young adult. I was eighteen and grappling with that weird sense of upheaval and stasis you get after
graduating high school, and other things I carried with me from where I was before. Meanwhile, I was watching cartoons.
Gravity Falls ended a handful of months before I started
watching. I don’t have any crazy fandom stories from back when it was airing.
But I still really appreciated seeing Oregon the way little kid me remembered
it lovingly depicted in a fantastic story, at a time when I didn’t feel at home
anywhere. There were a few things that helped me feel more anchored, and that
little town west of weird was one of them. I wanted to live there. Still do.
And I remember the little thrill of mystery when I learned about the single
hint we had of statue’s existence, the mysterious image in the show credits,
the code in the last episode, rusty gates and secrets. I remember many people
doubted the statue was real, but somehow I never did, even when it started to
look like we’d never find him.
I didn’t have Tumblr yet, so I was mostly in the Reddit side
of the fandom when the Hunt started. Words can’t describe the initial rush when
that first clue went live: LET THE GAMES BEGIN. No one knew what was going on
either, but I don’t remember feeling confused, if that makes sense. I knew
immediately: something big was going down. And then I spent the next two weeks
glued to my phone, refreshing the Megathread over and over, feverishly cracking
codes, waiting for the next update. I go back there, sometimes, and reread our
collective descent into near insanity. And I’m really only half exaggerating—as
far as I am concerned, anyway. I was practically consumed. I didn’t sleep. I was hardly
able to. But I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so exhilarated. That
was the best part of it: we had no idea what was happening, but we all knew we
were taking part in something bigger than ourselves. Half the time I couldn’t
quite believe it. It felt like any moment, I should have been waking up from
some dream.
So I was there for the nun debacle (sorry Sister Mary!), the
post office storytime with Ariel and Jason, and Puzzle Hell. I watched streams,
listened to Stan’s voicemails, put forward theories, and mostly just reveled in
the event itself. I met one of my best friends through the Hunt. And when the
time came and we cracked the last code, I realized: I could go.
I was going to go meet Bill.
I was streaming, too. I never quite managed to save the
footage, but I don’t mind, given that it’s about 30-45 minutes of me
deliriously mumbling into my phone and tripping over things in the dark. I
remember there were a few other people there, all the way from Portland, and we
ran into that cute little family from Bend. They left us a sign that it took
forever to find. We got lost a lot.
Around midnight, we found him. As soon as I saw him, I broke
down into hysterical laughter. I think I
was expecting something small, and for some reason, discovering otherwise felt
like a rug swept out from under me. At five feet tall, I stand eye level with
the brim of his hat. I had to catch my breath. I ended up
taking a 50 ruble note from the box. I regret not taking some of the plastic
coins or gems, but I’m still glad they went to other Hunters. And, of course, I
shook Bill’s hand.
I had to do it. There was no other choice, really. I knew I
was never going to have the chance again, and if I didn’t do it, what would
that mean? That I was scared?
I remember being weirdly struck by how long and thin they’d made his hand.
If it had been alive, it would have been able to wrap all the way around mine.
I was so caught up in two weeks of building suspense and so addled by lack of
sleep that in the moment, it was honestly a little scary. It really did almost feel
like any moment, his fingers might tighten and his eye might blink toward me,
and smile.
I’ll do anything, I said in my head, if
the way I feel right now lasts forever. I never want this to end.
And then I went home, and slept like the dead.
Bill’s a
cartoon triangle. It’s just a game. But… I like to think he
kept his promise.
There are certain times in your life where, down the road,
you realize that it was a turning point. The end of one chapter and the
beginning of another. I don’t know what happened in that clearing in the
forest, but something did. One of me went in, and a different me came back out.
I cannot express enough how grateful I am that I was able to be part of the
Hunt, especially at the time in my life when it happened. I was depressed and
lost and often afraid that I was an embarrassment, and that nothing was going
to get better. And I still am, but now I have how I felt to hang on to. I wasn’t
scared of being myself during that time, I didn’t care if I was weird. Everything was weird! I fit right
in!
It’s so hard to articulate how being in that forest was,
to me, but I remember this feeling like: “Life really can be magical after all.” I’m still holding out hope that someday,
I can return to who I was during the Hunt, when I was brave and unreservedly full of joy to be part of this unbelievable
adventure that I will never forget, as long as I live.
If all goes well, I’ll be visiting Bill again soon, in his
new home. I can’t wait. It’s a journey that’s long overdue.