August 27th, 2012
The rain is presently picking up, but no matter, for I'm sleeping in a barn, circa 1860's. I never expected this when waking earlier today, let alone the fact I'd have to earn my stay in this humble place, doing of all things, 'work'. Work, to the tune of about 2 and a half hours of weedwhacking. I was coming down through a field, 6-7 miles away from my goal when I noticed a nice barn and house, then a hiker at the road said we could sleep in the barn. I considered it, some rain was moving in and my right knee was hurting me more than any day on the trail so far. I calculated I'd done 15 miles already and talked myself into staying. Then the owner came out and wondered if we could do some yard work, weedwhacking and whatnot. "Sure" I said, I'll do some oddjobs for my stay. Easy Peasey. Well after I topped off the gas tank on the trimmer for the FOURTH TIME!!!, I started to wonder if all this work was worth it just to sleep in a barn. Soon into the ordeal though, "4 Spoke" the hiker i'd just met, said the guy mentioned something about a pasta dinner if we did a good job. This was what kept me going; and the hope that the guy was a good cook.
Earlier, when 4 Spoke and I assembled to work, the owner asked if either of us had weedwhacker experience. My 5 years of mowing and trimming my church cemetary during my salad days easily outweighed my new buddy's trimming resume. I set off toward my work, overhearing that 4 Spoke's employment would involve the use of a wheelbarrow. "Sucker" I thought. Then 20 mins into my job, the trimmer head clogged and the guy had to fix it whilst I helped 4 Spoke pull weeds. "Sucker" I thought. By and by though the guy got the thing fixed and I was soon back to laying weeds low while dreaming of a big pasta meal. I wasn't even sure if the meal was in the bag; he said 'IF' we do a good job. Once, I overfilled the tank and the guy wiped the spilled gas off a rock with a paper towel. One strike I thought. But then later he said I had a steady hand at running the weedwhacker and that he now trusted me to trim between his Hostas lining the driveway. Up til then I'd just been down trimming along the creek bank. So I tarried on, now hoping I'd have shower coming too. I dreaded getting into a sleeping bag all grassy. In fact I was getting thrashed by small stones and debris in my hiking shorts. Formerly, I would always weedwhack in jeans.
A little later the guy mentioned shower and laundry too. I think we were impressing him. He's got us tidying things up for a wedding in his yard in a few weeks. The place needs alot of work. The back yard was trashed by Tropical Storm Irene last year. Piles of sediment, silt and rock still linger. Some lingered in my leg flesh after I plowed into them with the trimmer head.
So finally, as darkness and light rain fell, he said we could put the tools away. I got showered. The guy, Dan, is definitely a bachelor. He said he didn't have any bar soap, but handed me a pump bottle of instant hand sanitizer to shower with...luckily I found some sort of soap in a bathroom closet.
Anyway, he made us a great meal with homemade pasta sauce from his garden's tomatos. Quite good. Also, I found out he owns a company that restores old buildings, specifically church steeples. Dan said he's done work in New York City on the Statue of Liberty torch and also on the Old North Church. So we talked old stuff.
Sure enough then he asked us to work tomorrow too. He said it would be worth staying because there's a dinner tomorrow night on the green in Woodstock, celebrating or commemorating one year since Irene, which devastated the area and much of Vermont. Woodstock is a beautiful historic town. I drove through it the other day when I rented a car to see some friends. I guess the meal will be family style for like 3000 people which would be cool to be a part of. So again, the perenial question, should I stay or should I go? Always a dilema. I'll sleep on it. In a barn.
August 28th
As I was slowly waking this morning, still deliberating on whether to stay and help this guy, I decided to stay. I think mostly out of the sense I had that he really needed some help. Also recalling Carver's philosophy, "Where I am is where I'm supposed to be" ran through my head.
Anyway I found out that Dan is divorced, which makes me understand why his house was a little messy, not in a disgusting way, just as if it hasn't been swept or dusted in a very long time. When I told him I'd stick around to help he seemed elated. "You have no idea how much stress you've taken off me by agreeing to stay" he said, very genuinely too, so I felt good that he really needed my help. So like I said, it just needed sweeping and dusting so I worked on that all day, and it's a big Colonial with many rooms, I had plenty to do. While cleaning I realized I still hardly knew a thing about Dan, he doesn't divulge harldy anything personal at all in conversation. So I let myself put things together, at least as best I could, based on context clues from his house while working. Which was kinda fun.
For supper, like he promised, we went into Woodstock. I was amazed as we walked into the center of town, and came to the Green. There were so many people; and tables lined up for hundreds of feet in length. The high school Jazz n Funk Band was jamming and it was great music, then later as we ate grilled steak and vegetables, kabobs, beans, rolls, everything; and all so good, a New Orleans Style Jazz band walked amongst the tables playing 'In The Sweet By and By' then, and I just sat back and soaked in the scene. Thousands of people eating together, the biggest collection of people eating a family style dinner I've ever seen. There was laughter and smiles, a drastic contrast I'm sure from what flood victims were going through exactly a year ago. I've seen the look of defeat and hopelessness on the faces of people recently displaced by floods and other disasters and I much prefer the happiness on the other side of the trials endured when things have turned around and are better.
This was a great, unexpected treat the trail has given me, this night, really this whole experience, meeting Dan and all. He said I've always got a place to stay if i'm in the area. Also I'm sure I'll take advantage of his building and timberframe knowledge if I'm ever in a pickle. Well, back at the old grind tomorrow.
Monday, December 24, 2012
Saturday, October 6, 2012
8-23-2012 In Which I Take a Few Days Off.
I wanted to be walking into into Hanover today, that’s 40 miles away. Instead I’m sitting on a rock in front of the Long Trail Inn. I managed to escape the magnetic pull of the Yellow Deli. I had decided to stay, but then couldn’t stand not being on the trail or in the woods. So at almost 5pm I left, which was pretty late to take a 40 mile hike into Hanover. So I was going to night hike and try to get to a road 20 miles north, then hitch to Hanover, but that didn’t work out because I left my headlamp at the Yellow Deli. So I figured, “Welp” I’m here at the Inn, might as well grab a bite and comingle. I thought of Carver’s trail philosophy, he says, concerning the trail, “Where I am is where I’m supposed to be.” So I like that. At the restaurant I met an old Austrian guy named Adi. I asked him what he does, he said in a heavy accent, “I’m a woodworker” and showed me his hands. Man they were beat up. One finger showed scars of being almost completely unattached at one point in its career. I pointed at it and asked, “Table saw?” He said, “Shaper” and I cringed. I won’t describe what a shaper does and hopefully spare you the cringe. So we talked woodworking for awhile as he enjoyed his Reuben, I my broccoli soup. It was hard to understand him, but I learned that he makes some higher end furniture for people on the high end, but his bread and butter are cedar chests with dovetail corners. I really wanted to see his shop and some of his work so I asked where it was and if I could stop in this morning and he said I could. I just came from his shop. It was what I expected for the most part, an old red building with a charming handmade sign out front that said “Adi’s Woodworks” and as I walked in, a pleasing blend of black walnut, and aromatic cedar lovingly flooded my nasal labyrinths. I breathed in deep and smiled. The first piece that caught my eye was a stunning quilted black walnut cabinet with wrought iron pulls. The grain was so vibrant and alive. I couldn’t believe, in looking around, that this shop produced such a piece. Like most wood shops, it was cluttered and didn’t have the expensive chisel and plane sets, expensive power tools and other fine implements you can spend money on. He had ryobi and chicago routers which aren’t top of the line, but a top of the line person can do a lot with a little. Adi was a top of the line guy, he definitely had a certain anachronistic style about him too, with his faded non collared corduroy jacket, and Austrian accent. When I asked if he learned woodworking from his father or grandfather, I learned that before Adi turned 3, his father was killed on the Russian front in WWII. He’s definitely making some quality furniture at his age. It was just refreshing to be in a non-trail setting talking with a non-trail person about non-trail things. My normal conversations cycle through things like food we fantasize about, where our next town stop is, the best hostel or restaurant in the that town, how the terrain is up ahead, what kind and how well our gear is holding up, whether so and so is up ahead or behind and were they took some time off. It’s all like that. I gets old, so a wood shop was just what I needed.
Now. I think I’ve finally figured out what to do here. After Adi’s, my plan was to hitchhike to Hanover, hang out with my friend Patrick for tonight and tomorrow morning, then rent a car, go pick up Caitlin and hang out with her and Kelly until Saturday. Take Caitlin back to the airport, but then I’d be stuck with having to get back to Killington, and back on the trail. So after 15 minutes of unsuccessful hitching, I just figured I’ll pay for an extra day of car rental, save myself a big headache, and rent from Rutland. I’m slowly coming to terms that it’s okay to be taking it easy. 5 days off trail seems like a lot, but I’ve only had one zero mile day so far. I need to relax and enjoy myself. Mentally prepare for the White Mountains in New Hampshire maybe. My brother-in-law, Reuben, is always telling me it’s not about the destination, but about the journey, so I just need to relax. I'll still finish in December in Georgia, which will be chilly but shouldn’t be too bad. So I think I’m definitely relaxing. I’m excited about driving a car too. It’s been about a month and a half since I’ve driven…good thing it’s a rental.
…Evening…
I’m at Patrick’s right now in Hanover. His family has a very nice place, and we had a relaxing meal outside. Looking forward to breakfast in Hanover and seeing the town a little bit in the morning. Driving the car was fun. It’s not like it was hard getting the hang of it, but I had to be mindful of things moving much faster than normal. Looking forward to the next 2-3 days very much, feeling relaxed.
I wanted to be walking into into Hanover today, that’s 40 miles away. Instead I’m sitting on a rock in front of the Long Trail Inn. I managed to escape the magnetic pull of the Yellow Deli. I had decided to stay, but then couldn’t stand not being on the trail or in the woods. So at almost 5pm I left, which was pretty late to take a 40 mile hike into Hanover. So I was going to night hike and try to get to a road 20 miles north, then hitch to Hanover, but that didn’t work out because I left my headlamp at the Yellow Deli. So I figured, “Welp” I’m here at the Inn, might as well grab a bite and comingle. I thought of Carver’s trail philosophy, he says, concerning the trail, “Where I am is where I’m supposed to be.” So I like that. At the restaurant I met an old Austrian guy named Adi. I asked him what he does, he said in a heavy accent, “I’m a woodworker” and showed me his hands. Man they were beat up. One finger showed scars of being almost completely unattached at one point in its career. I pointed at it and asked, “Table saw?” He said, “Shaper” and I cringed. I won’t describe what a shaper does and hopefully spare you the cringe. So we talked woodworking for awhile as he enjoyed his Reuben, I my broccoli soup. It was hard to understand him, but I learned that he makes some higher end furniture for people on the high end, but his bread and butter are cedar chests with dovetail corners. I really wanted to see his shop and some of his work so I asked where it was and if I could stop in this morning and he said I could. I just came from his shop. It was what I expected for the most part, an old red building with a charming handmade sign out front that said “Adi’s Woodworks” and as I walked in, a pleasing blend of black walnut, and aromatic cedar lovingly flooded my nasal labyrinths. I breathed in deep and smiled. The first piece that caught my eye was a stunning quilted black walnut cabinet with wrought iron pulls. The grain was so vibrant and alive. I couldn’t believe, in looking around, that this shop produced such a piece. Like most wood shops, it was cluttered and didn’t have the expensive chisel and plane sets, expensive power tools and other fine implements you can spend money on. He had ryobi and chicago routers which aren’t top of the line, but a top of the line person can do a lot with a little. Adi was a top of the line guy, he definitely had a certain anachronistic style about him too, with his faded non collared corduroy jacket, and Austrian accent. When I asked if he learned woodworking from his father or grandfather, I learned that before Adi turned 3, his father was killed on the Russian front in WWII. He’s definitely making some quality furniture at his age. It was just refreshing to be in a non-trail setting talking with a non-trail person about non-trail things. My normal conversations cycle through things like food we fantasize about, where our next town stop is, the best hostel or restaurant in the that town, how the terrain is up ahead, what kind and how well our gear is holding up, whether so and so is up ahead or behind and were they took some time off. It’s all like that. I gets old, so a wood shop was just what I needed.
Now. I think I’ve finally figured out what to do here. After Adi’s, my plan was to hitchhike to Hanover, hang out with my friend Patrick for tonight and tomorrow morning, then rent a car, go pick up Caitlin and hang out with her and Kelly until Saturday. Take Caitlin back to the airport, but then I’d be stuck with having to get back to Killington, and back on the trail. So after 15 minutes of unsuccessful hitching, I just figured I’ll pay for an extra day of car rental, save myself a big headache, and rent from Rutland. I’m slowly coming to terms that it’s okay to be taking it easy. 5 days off trail seems like a lot, but I’ve only had one zero mile day so far. I need to relax and enjoy myself. Mentally prepare for the White Mountains in New Hampshire maybe. My brother-in-law, Reuben, is always telling me it’s not about the destination, but about the journey, so I just need to relax. I'll still finish in December in Georgia, which will be chilly but shouldn’t be too bad. So I think I’m definitely relaxing. I’m excited about driving a car too. It’s been about a month and a half since I’ve driven…good thing it’s a rental.
…Evening…
I’m at Patrick’s right now in Hanover. His family has a very nice place, and we had a relaxing meal outside. Looking forward to breakfast in Hanover and seeing the town a little bit in the morning. Driving the car was fun. It’s not like it was hard getting the hang of it, but I had to be mindful of things moving much faster than normal. Looking forward to the next 2-3 days very much, feeling relaxed.
8-21-2012
Yesterday I caught a bus into Rutland, VT with simple plans. Resupply, laundry, shower. But the bus stopped and picked up Knoxville, Samson, and Tinkerbell, and they were headed to an all you can eat Chinese buffet and after minimal prodding, so was I. A Wal-Mart was beside the buffet, my resupply, and then there was a hostel close by, which I figured I could work something out to where I could just shower, do laundry, and skedaddle. So I came to this hostel, “The Yellow Deli” and instantly I felt this overwhelming sense of hospitality and belonging. As I approached, a whimsical version of ‘Blackberry Blossom’ was playing on the outdoor speakers, I entered, and was Blown Away. I’ve never seen a décor like this. All reclaimed wood, old barn beams, whiskey barrel staves as booth backs, scythe handle incorporated as railings, and stained glass lampshades. It really would take pages to describe everything. The hiker sitting nearby asked if I was staying, I said no just laundry and shower. He’s like, “No, you seriously need to stay. We’ve been here for 3 days, we can’t leave.” So I get set up with a shower and all, and in the guys dorm I noticed some literature about biblical things, and everyone had different names I realized, and then I realized I’d heard about this place. It was rumored to be a cult. Everyone lives in community, and they use this deli to make money. It’s called the 12 Tribes. Well long story short, I was sucked in, for the night at least. Hopefully. I’m still here…but my bags are packed. I did some chores, made beds, washed dishes and windows, and so that’s called 'work for stay'. Therefore, I was able to stay without paying 20 bucks. I also got the best sandwich I’ve had on the trail. I’m telling you, make the trip to Rutland, VT and eat here. Join us! Just kidding, but seriously, they don’t seem too out there, just following the Bible very fundamentally. They don’t consider themselves Christians, because of the negative connotations with the crusades and everything, but they believe Jesus, or Yahshua, which is the original pronunciation of Jesus. And that he is the son of God and died to save us of our sins.
So anyway. I’ll be back in Rutland on Friday evening with Kelly and Caitlin. Our original plans were to jsut hang out but I'd like to come here for a Sabbath celebration and meal Friday night, it sounds fun.
We’re all still sitting here, Uncle Oops, the guy who said I should stay, and Carver, they’re sitting in their same spot they’ve been in for days. A great rendition of Wayfaring Stranger is playing now as I realize how addicting these folks are. They say cults suck you in and if they’re anything like this, I can see how. Everyone is so gentle and peaceful. My occasional loss of temper might subside hanging around the peaceful guys like Levmilech.
(....Later notes....This place was indeed a cult, and from accounts from other hikers I heard the 12 Tribes is one of the best cults at sucking people in. I'm glad I left, luckily the trail was calling me harder than them, and they were weirding me out anyway.)
Yesterday I caught a bus into Rutland, VT with simple plans. Resupply, laundry, shower. But the bus stopped and picked up Knoxville, Samson, and Tinkerbell, and they were headed to an all you can eat Chinese buffet and after minimal prodding, so was I. A Wal-Mart was beside the buffet, my resupply, and then there was a hostel close by, which I figured I could work something out to where I could just shower, do laundry, and skedaddle. So I came to this hostel, “The Yellow Deli” and instantly I felt this overwhelming sense of hospitality and belonging. As I approached, a whimsical version of ‘Blackberry Blossom’ was playing on the outdoor speakers, I entered, and was Blown Away. I’ve never seen a décor like this. All reclaimed wood, old barn beams, whiskey barrel staves as booth backs, scythe handle incorporated as railings, and stained glass lampshades. It really would take pages to describe everything. The hiker sitting nearby asked if I was staying, I said no just laundry and shower. He’s like, “No, you seriously need to stay. We’ve been here for 3 days, we can’t leave.” So I get set up with a shower and all, and in the guys dorm I noticed some literature about biblical things, and everyone had different names I realized, and then I realized I’d heard about this place. It was rumored to be a cult. Everyone lives in community, and they use this deli to make money. It’s called the 12 Tribes. Well long story short, I was sucked in, for the night at least. Hopefully. I’m still here…but my bags are packed. I did some chores, made beds, washed dishes and windows, and so that’s called 'work for stay'. Therefore, I was able to stay without paying 20 bucks. I also got the best sandwich I’ve had on the trail. I’m telling you, make the trip to Rutland, VT and eat here. Join us! Just kidding, but seriously, they don’t seem too out there, just following the Bible very fundamentally. They don’t consider themselves Christians, because of the negative connotations with the crusades and everything, but they believe Jesus, or Yahshua, which is the original pronunciation of Jesus. And that he is the son of God and died to save us of our sins.
So anyway. I’ll be back in Rutland on Friday evening with Kelly and Caitlin. Our original plans were to jsut hang out but I'd like to come here for a Sabbath celebration and meal Friday night, it sounds fun.
We’re all still sitting here, Uncle Oops, the guy who said I should stay, and Carver, they’re sitting in their same spot they’ve been in for days. A great rendition of Wayfaring Stranger is playing now as I realize how addicting these folks are. They say cults suck you in and if they’re anything like this, I can see how. Everyone is so gentle and peaceful. My occasional loss of temper might subside hanging around the peaceful guys like Levmilech.
(....Later notes....This place was indeed a cult, and from accounts from other hikers I heard the 12 Tribes is one of the best cults at sucking people in. I'm glad I left, luckily the trail was calling me harder than them, and they were weirding me out anyway.)
8-19-2012
It’s Sunday morning, August 19th, I think. I’m sitting on a giant rock amid another crystal clear, Vermont mountain stream. Again, I can’t say enough about Vermont. Every moment is perfect, constantly surrounded by natural beauty. A highlight last night was reaching the top of a mountain, just as the sun’s bourbon light was ebbing, and I came to a veritable Museum of Natural Modern Art on that mountain. All over a few huge boulders, previous hikers had built elaborate rock cairns. In simplest form, a rock cairn is just a pyramid of rocks, but people had spent a ton of time on these. Elaborate rock arches, overhanging cairns, ones that seemed to defy gravity, and cairns that were skillfully balanced and seemingly delicate, but could possibly have been in place for years. I could’ve stayed for hours but light was fading fast and I had to get to the nearest shelter that unfortunately didn’t have any water. I had one cup on me, not enough to cook, so I’m eating last night’s meal by this stream to get some calories for the day. A Thai Sweet Chili Pasta side is not my ideal breakfast. Biscuits and gravy sound better, but I do what I gotta do.
It’s Sunday morning, August 19th, I think. I’m sitting on a giant rock amid another crystal clear, Vermont mountain stream. Again, I can’t say enough about Vermont. Every moment is perfect, constantly surrounded by natural beauty. A highlight last night was reaching the top of a mountain, just as the sun’s bourbon light was ebbing, and I came to a veritable Museum of Natural Modern Art on that mountain. All over a few huge boulders, previous hikers had built elaborate rock cairns. In simplest form, a rock cairn is just a pyramid of rocks, but people had spent a ton of time on these. Elaborate rock arches, overhanging cairns, ones that seemed to defy gravity, and cairns that were skillfully balanced and seemingly delicate, but could possibly have been in place for years. I could’ve stayed for hours but light was fading fast and I had to get to the nearest shelter that unfortunately didn’t have any water. I had one cup on me, not enough to cook, so I’m eating last night’s meal by this stream to get some calories for the day. A Thai Sweet Chili Pasta side is not my ideal breakfast. Biscuits and gravy sound better, but I do what I gotta do.
Monday, September 10, 2012
8-17-12
What. A. Nice. Evening.
I never knew growing up my whole life that Vermont had such incredible mountains. I was hiking up Bromley Mountain, planning on going another 8 miles when a storm came up and I wasn’t looking forward to spending time in it. So a ski slope was at the top and I figured worst case I’d take refuge under a lift. Well, even better, a warming hut was open for hikers and I got in right before the storm. After the heavy rains, just before night fall, the most amazing sunset developed. Layers of mountains in the foreground, and the clouds and fog were just rolling by us. It was constantly changing, but so beautiful. I love this life.
Last night was great too. We went swimming at Stratton Pond while the sun set in the pond’s horizon, right in the vanishing point of two evergreen strewn hills. We swam, then rinsed out some clothes, then set out for a good camping spot right at dusk. 3 miles later! In the dark! We finally found a spot. I was worn out, but every step closer meant less I’d have to do today. We built a fire, and really had a fun night. Again, so fun. Well I’m sleepy, and I need to get in some big miles tomorrow, 26?
.
8-13-12
Well I’ve taken quite a hiatus on the blog. I was getting tired of writing every evening, and decided to spend my time reading instead. So it’s been a good break. I’ve gone a good distance since I last wrote, through Connecticut and over half of Massachusetts. My time in New York was good, nice scenery, but bad water sources. Connecticut was pretty. My first New England state, and it didn’t fail to impress. My first view included your stereotypical New England sites, church steeples rising above the trees, old colonial houses, and clean, brightly painted barns. I moved through Connecticut pretty fast, except for the first day in which I caught up on town things in Kent, Connecticut. Laundry, blog, mail, resupply, new footbeds for my shoes. I got on the trail at 6:30 that evening, but still made 10 miles of it by night hiking a very flat stretch along the Housatonic River. It was very pleasant albeit some lurking shadows created by my headlamp. I found a starry field and cowboy camped in it then. A nice night. Another highlight in CT was getting a good, 3 minute video of a decent sized black bear. He was panting heavy, probably hot, and just moping around. I let him get about 30 feet from me then decided it was close enough and said, “It’s hot for me too buddy.” He looked confused, surprised, and then took off running from where he came. Quite exciting for me.
So Connecticut was good, except it was buggy. Black gnats all the time. My buddy, Dirty D, cleverly dubbed it Co-gnat-icut, which I was thought was pretty good.
Then soon into Massachusetts I got back with The Hair, Sherbert and Octo. So they've been good company. One night, soon into Mass, I shared this small shelter with an older guy named Late Start. He was busy looking for a favorite pocket knife of his that he lost, one with sentimental value. As we talked I learned he was a retired electrician from Chicago, heard all about his mother’s walking stick he had, his dad’s Leatherman multi-tool, and about his attempts of completing the AT. Two years ago I guess he started in the south, but drought conditions forced him to quit for lack of water. So he tried the next year from the north and got pounded with rain from tropical storm Irene, "one extreme to another" we both said at the same time. He also slipped one time and messed his leg up good and dislodged something in his back. So he was forced off the trail again. He’s now out here trying to finish, after he finds his knife. As he poked around, I noted how the wind was picking up and remembered rumors of possible nighttime storms. Then this big old fallen tree which was hung up in another one got to squeaking right beside us. I looked around and now fully appreciated the mass and height of the monarch hemlock and white pines that surrounded us; well over 100, some over 120-140 feet tall, with 3 foot diameters. These things would smash our measly shelter into tiny bits. Given Late Start’s streak of misfortune, I put a lot of thought into the wisdom of sharing a shelter with him. I didn't want to test providence. I even expressed my concerns to him, and he didn’t give a compelling argument that we’d be fine. Alas though, I was tired and decided to take my chances, and made it of course. Rough night of sleep though, skeeters were bad, and Late Start snored impressively.
Next 3 nights, mattresses! First at a little retreat center, got a shower too. Didn’t even have to hitch a ride, this guy Sam, a hiker himself figured I was heading there and picked me up, saving me a 1.5 mile off-trail road walk. The next night, got the last bunk at Upper Goose Cabin. A cool little place in the Massachusetts woods. The caretakers made delicious blueberry pancakes every morning. Then in Dalton, I stayed at a guy’s place, Tom Levardi, who’s been taking hikers in for 30 years. Shower, laundry, bed, town, food, all great. Then he took us into town the next day to Dick’s Sporting Goods and I got a great deal on a down sleeping bag, a much needed item.
7-30-12
Here at Wawayonda Shelter and what a nice evening. Also, I’ve got the place to myself which has to be rare. A few tenters, but no one in the shelter but me. The bugs are chirping, owls hooting, and it was a great evening hike. I rested in Vernon, NJ most of the day at the St. Thomas Episcopal Church where I slept last night. They run a hostel in their basement. I slept in a cool carpeted stairwell away from everyone and finally got a good night of sleep. Also, one thing I love about churches is playing their pianos late at night. That was a treat.
So I took it easy all day not sure of my plans but my feet were kinda swollen, some new blisters and poison ivy in spots. When it rains, I think the oils rinse down into my socks from my shoes. The poison ivy always seems to flare up after rain. Finally around 5p.m. I realized I’d better get moving. I remembered seeing a sign for a shoe store and found out it was only 3 miles away, but closes at 6. I decided to try for it via hitchhiking; threw my stuff together and was standing by the road at 5:25. I got a ride after 10 minutes and had some new Keens picked out by 5:50. I’ve been coveting other people’s Keens lately. They have a giant glob of rubber on the front of every shoe that protects from painful toe stubs, the most frustrating thing for me on the trail by far. So I tried on these shoes and upon wiggling my toes felt this luxurious padding, even on top, and it seemed perfect. So I bought them, and felt no sentimentality or regret when I told the guy to pitch my flimsy toed Montrails. Then, this was great; we were chatting at the door and he knew I had a mile or so walk back to the trail and he felt bad he couldn’t take me because he had his bike, so he took off running across the parking lot and flagged down a guy he knew that was leaving. The guy saw him at the last minute and pulled into a yard probably thinking something was wrong, only to find out he’s been volunteered to give a stranger a ride. “Don’t worry, he just showered” the shoe salesman said as I made my way to the guy’s car. I guess he owned a neighboring business and was leaving. I was happy to get the ride, whether he was happy about it or not. That’s a good shoe salesman though, I’d go back to that place just because of that. The 10% hiker discount was good too.
These entries are so long, but there are all these little things I want to remember that seem cool to me. Hopefully it’s not boring. What wasn’t boring to me were the six bears, yes, you read that right, six bears I saw tonight. First a mama and cub on my left, not far away, then a mama and 3 cubs on my right after I walked a little further. I didn’t feel in any danger really, actually wielded my camera instead of my measly knife, and got some short, grainy, dark video. It was too far and too dark for a picture. So yeah, a good day I guess, heck of a climb though out of Vernon, the toughest yet for me, very steep. Well I guess that’s all I have to say about that. Goodnight.
8-1-12
Yesterdays highlights include in no particular order:
Getting chocolate chip cookies at the Greenwood Lake Post Office from my wonderful girlfriend.
Entering New York and texting her, Caitlin, telling her I was here, she said “Me too.” She’s a flight attendant for a Delta Connection carrier and had just landed in LaGuardia. So really I wasn’t far away from NYC and decided to hang out on a high rock to watch planes go over, wondering if I saw hers. I told her to wave and blow me a kiss.
Getting some good trail magic from Bob and Estelle, little candy bars, granola bars, and water.
But then as I was hiking out of Greenwood Lake, I got my first tinge of loneliness. I hadn’t been hiking with anyone lately because I’m mainly introverted to begin with, plus, I like the independence of making my own decisions. But on the downside, I’m pretty boring by myself. So as luck would have it, or whatever you call it, I ran into a motley crew of hikers with a cool dog. I heard the music they were blaring first, a bluegrassy sound I liked, and it felt like I was coming upon a small traveling circus. Made small talk with one person, gender was unclear at first, and I went on my way, but kicked myself right away. Conversation in my head was like, “You’re bored by yourself, why walk away from a group right away?” So I slowed down and they caught up, music still blaring and I let them pass, because they were hoofing it and I tagged along behind. So we came to a cool view at the surrounding hills, and also saw some hikers on a giant rock in the distance. We caught up to them and it was Sherbert, a guy I hiked with a little, The Hair, and Octo. So after chilling on the rock a while we all took off and finally ended up at a beautiful place called Mombasha Highpoint. We all found spots and were constantly commenting on how cool our camp was. Views all around with a bright, almost full moon. I was set up in some trees below camp and made supper and when I walked up to hang out with everyone, I climbed the rocks to the music of Alicia Keys and Jay Z singing, “Now you’re in New Yorroorrrk.” I thought it was appropriate and smiled. A few of us played hearts and just relaxed and had fun. I felt a part of the group right away, it was a good night.
*Gator, Sancho, Scrooge, Fudgie, Octo, The Hair, Sherbert, and me Owen Á, and Rudy the dog.
So about my trail name, I’m hiking in honor of my friend Owen Anderson who passed away in early July, up in North Dakota. He was my favorite resident at the retirement home where I volunteered. He was paralyzed most of his life from a car accident he was in when he was 18, but still managed to have one of the best dispositions in the home. He could barely talk or hold his head up, he couldn’t move his legs, and only one arm barely moved, which he used to control his scooter with. But he always had a big smile for you and the brightest blue eyes. I’m trying to walk some miles he never could while also telling people about him when they wonder about my trail name, Owen Á.
…Tonight we’re on another mountain, just me, Octo, The Hair, and Sherbert. We did 16 miles today on some fun, big rock terrain, some good climbing and squeezing. We had some great trail magic, Pepsi, a Subway foot long, pita with bean dip, and some fresh cherries, right by a lake we went swimming in. It was great as we relaxed, feeling clean from the lake on the sun heated rocks. A great time, and now we’ve got a little fire going and it’s a beautiful night. Slightly cool breeze, and busy bugs. If it’s clear in the morning, we should be able to see the NYC skyline. This is more fun than camping and hiking alone. Conversation with others really makes the time fly. New York’s terrain so far is great too. There’ll be these grassy meadows all over the place with a few towering trees. Very nice state so far. Well, goodnight.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
7-29-12
Yesterday was an ok day. The shelter where I was in the morning was thick with mosquitoes. I later found out that it is notoriously mosquito rich. Walked about 5 miles, then came near a town and I needed some oatmeal and granola bars, and there was a deal advertised on a rock for all you can eat pizza with a soda, 6 bucks, I was sold. I ran into a Ridgerunner I met earlier and he had a truck nearby, so he dropped me off at the pizza place then ran a kid who was getting off the trail to a town 15 miles away. While eating, 5 guys came in and were asking about my hike, I asked if they’d hiked it, and 2 had. When I went to pay, the cashier said they already paid and I couldn’t even thank them because they had left already. That was really nice, I’m definitely going to try and do some stuff like that around trail towns sometime when I’m done. It really makes your day. Then I got some oatmeal at the store next door, and then bought myself and the Ridgerunner some Dairy Queen for running me around. As I started back on the trail with 15 miles left to go, it started pouring. A real frog strangler. Then as I noticed I was nearing the top of a mountain and the thunder and lightning were picking up, I broke into an opening with a fire tower. Great, right by a giant metal tower in a lightning storm. I skedaddled past that quickly, and was happy to be heading downhill soon. Then came my first wipeout. The tread on my shoes is nonexistent anymore thanks to PA rocks. So on a smooth rock, I somehow face planted, and it wasn’t fun.
A highlight though, I saw 2 bears that evening. I spooked a big one out of a hollow to my right, she was maybe 30 yards away at first, and then a cub followed after, both in a direction I approved of…away from me. They stopped to look around probably 60 yards away, but too far for a camera shot. So that was exciting.
Then as darkness was falling and I was expecting High Point shelter very soon, I stepped into a clearing, and this kid Sherbert I’ve been hiking with pointed to the sky ahead. I peered though the haze and fog and dusk to see what looked like the Washington Monument. A giant, tapered, pointed Obelisk was developing in front of me out of the churning fog. I couldn’t believe it. Never expected to see that. I guess it’s a monument marking Jersey’s highest elevation, pretty neat. Later found out it’s 200 feet tall; which is no slouch of a monument.
So not long later, we stumbled into a crowded shelter and although I was soggy and tired, I made some food, and then got settled in. The girl beside me had a snore like a growling bear, I’ve never heard a snore like that and I didn’t sleep well at all.
7-30-12
I woke up today with no defined goal but looked in the guide and saw a church that offered its roof, laundry, shower, and the internet, so I set my sights on that 19 trail miles away, and then 2.4 road miles. The weather cleared and the trail was great, very few rocks. After 5 miles, I stopped at “The Secret Shelter” a cool place owned by a thru-hiker from 89’, Shooter. He bought 85 acres and built a shelter for hikers, it’s just not advertised as an official shelter, but it’s in the guide book. So that was a nice visit, we mainly talked about photography. Then I proceeded, I ran into Tom & Jerry and Sanchez, I think was his name, at an overlook and Jerry, Tom’s girlfriend, pointed to the mountain on the horizon, and what do you think I saw but that monument, only it looked so tiny from so far away. I couldn’t believe how far I walked in a day. That was cool. Then the other big highlight was walking more than half a mile on a boardwalk over a swamp. There was also a wooden suspension bridge over a river. The sun was getting low and it was a great evening of hiking. I definitely plan on hiking the NJ section again. Its only main problem,which can happen to any state, is that the mosquitoes are numerous and tenacious. I lost my bug net head cover in PA too, and it was my favorite piece of equipment when I needed it. I need to get a new one soon. Well, I’m tired, 8 more miles of Jersey I think, maybe 10. It’s been fun.
Oh, one more incident that’s kinda funny looking back. I stubbed my toe on a rock at the base of a hill, right on my sore toe with the ingrown toenail, and man it smarted. My dad jokes that sometimes when I get mad, I sound like Yosemite Sam from the Looney Toons. And here I did. I couldn’t help but loudly curse that rock that caused me that prodigious pain by obnoxiously, angrily, loudly, growling at it; and through the woods echoed my voice. After flogging some nearby weeds with my trekking poles, I hoped no one was nearby, but not 2 seconds later, a young guy was coming down the hill. As he got closer, I noticed he was a Ridgerunner probably not over 22 and his eyes were wide and straight ahead. He looked a scared Cubscout. I think he was afraid to pass me because I sounded quite angry and disturbed just moments earlier. I asked him how he was, and got a quick “Good” and as I tried to explain my stubbed toe, he was gone. He picked up some speed I think after he passed me, not in the mood for small talk. But I guess I couldn’t blame him.
Yesterday was an ok day. The shelter where I was in the morning was thick with mosquitoes. I later found out that it is notoriously mosquito rich. Walked about 5 miles, then came near a town and I needed some oatmeal and granola bars, and there was a deal advertised on a rock for all you can eat pizza with a soda, 6 bucks, I was sold. I ran into a Ridgerunner I met earlier and he had a truck nearby, so he dropped me off at the pizza place then ran a kid who was getting off the trail to a town 15 miles away. While eating, 5 guys came in and were asking about my hike, I asked if they’d hiked it, and 2 had. When I went to pay, the cashier said they already paid and I couldn’t even thank them because they had left already. That was really nice, I’m definitely going to try and do some stuff like that around trail towns sometime when I’m done. It really makes your day. Then I got some oatmeal at the store next door, and then bought myself and the Ridgerunner some Dairy Queen for running me around. As I started back on the trail with 15 miles left to go, it started pouring. A real frog strangler. Then as I noticed I was nearing the top of a mountain and the thunder and lightning were picking up, I broke into an opening with a fire tower. Great, right by a giant metal tower in a lightning storm. I skedaddled past that quickly, and was happy to be heading downhill soon. Then came my first wipeout. The tread on my shoes is nonexistent anymore thanks to PA rocks. So on a smooth rock, I somehow face planted, and it wasn’t fun.
A highlight though, I saw 2 bears that evening. I spooked a big one out of a hollow to my right, she was maybe 30 yards away at first, and then a cub followed after, both in a direction I approved of…away from me. They stopped to look around probably 60 yards away, but too far for a camera shot. So that was exciting.
Then as darkness was falling and I was expecting High Point shelter very soon, I stepped into a clearing, and this kid Sherbert I’ve been hiking with pointed to the sky ahead. I peered though the haze and fog and dusk to see what looked like the Washington Monument. A giant, tapered, pointed Obelisk was developing in front of me out of the churning fog. I couldn’t believe it. Never expected to see that. I guess it’s a monument marking Jersey’s highest elevation, pretty neat. Later found out it’s 200 feet tall; which is no slouch of a monument.
So not long later, we stumbled into a crowded shelter and although I was soggy and tired, I made some food, and then got settled in. The girl beside me had a snore like a growling bear, I’ve never heard a snore like that and I didn’t sleep well at all.
7-30-12
I woke up today with no defined goal but looked in the guide and saw a church that offered its roof, laundry, shower, and the internet, so I set my sights on that 19 trail miles away, and then 2.4 road miles. The weather cleared and the trail was great, very few rocks. After 5 miles, I stopped at “The Secret Shelter” a cool place owned by a thru-hiker from 89’, Shooter. He bought 85 acres and built a shelter for hikers, it’s just not advertised as an official shelter, but it’s in the guide book. So that was a nice visit, we mainly talked about photography. Then I proceeded, I ran into Tom & Jerry and Sanchez, I think was his name, at an overlook and Jerry, Tom’s girlfriend, pointed to the mountain on the horizon, and what do you think I saw but that monument, only it looked so tiny from so far away. I couldn’t believe how far I walked in a day. That was cool. Then the other big highlight was walking more than half a mile on a boardwalk over a swamp. There was also a wooden suspension bridge over a river. The sun was getting low and it was a great evening of hiking. I definitely plan on hiking the NJ section again. Its only main problem,which can happen to any state, is that the mosquitoes are numerous and tenacious. I lost my bug net head cover in PA too, and it was my favorite piece of equipment when I needed it. I need to get a new one soon. Well, I’m tired, 8 more miles of Jersey I think, maybe 10. It’s been fun.
Oh, one more incident that’s kinda funny looking back. I stubbed my toe on a rock at the base of a hill, right on my sore toe with the ingrown toenail, and man it smarted. My dad jokes that sometimes when I get mad, I sound like Yosemite Sam from the Looney Toons. And here I did. I couldn’t help but loudly curse that rock that caused me that prodigious pain by obnoxiously, angrily, loudly, growling at it; and through the woods echoed my voice. After flogging some nearby weeds with my trekking poles, I hoped no one was nearby, but not 2 seconds later, a young guy was coming down the hill. As he got closer, I noticed he was a Ridgerunner probably not over 22 and his eyes were wide and straight ahead. He looked a scared Cubscout. I think he was afraid to pass me because I sounded quite angry and disturbed just moments earlier. I asked him how he was, and got a quick “Good” and as I tried to explain my stubbed toe, he was gone. He picked up some speed I think after he passed me, not in the mood for small talk. But I guess I couldn’t blame him.
Monday, August 27, 2012
7-27-12
7-27-12
Why New Jersey is Better than Pennsylvania (To Hike In)
Today I finally crossed into New Jersey. I’ve put the rocks
and monotony of PA behind me. For miles I envisioned the transition. I imagined
it to be similar to when you’re riding in a car on a multi-state trip, and you
go from a state with notoriously bad roads, say for instance, I don’t know, PA,
and you drive into a state with good roads. The change is instant. You can go
from 2 lanes of potholes, to 6 lanes of smooth, fresh, well engineered roads.
As far as the trail goes I was thinking I’d step from rock strewn, poison ivy
lined misery in PA, to moss carpeted, wild strawberry lined bliss in Jersey.
Well here’s how it really was, I stepped off the noisy I-80 bridge after
crossing the Delaware River onto asphalt. Don’t let that disappoint you though,
soon the road led to the Kittatinny Visitor Center which seemed nice, then
crossed under I-80 and then started up alongside a creek that was home to native
brook trout; a clean, cool, pleasant stream.
As I walk I see a man with an easel painting with water colors. How
nice. I paralleled the stream, admiring
how it cascades into clear, inviting pools. At the top of the climb, on a
mountain, mind you, I came to Sunfish Pond, a 41 acre Glacial Lake, what?!
There were no lakes, let alone on a mountaintop in PA. Score 1 for Jersey. No,
2, there weren’t any water color artists either. Then the woods open up and I
walk on smooth rock, with panoramic views on BOTH sides, on a ridge, and I can
walk and enjoy the view at the same time because I’m not tripping over small
rocks. Plus, to get a view I don’t have to take a blue blaze trail that has
only a 10 foot window in the foliage. Another point for Jersey; panoramic
views. Then I came to another mountain top lake covered with blooming lily pads
and a few beaver huts, another plus. Then I had some bear action.
I was told
before that NJ has many bears. So I’m walking along and these 2 SOBO guys say
to me, “Hey, just letting you know, in about 200 feet there are 4 bears.”
I was like, “Uhhhh….”
“Yeah, they’re just over this crest here below the tra…”
Probably a 3 inch branch cracks in half from the direction they’re talking
about. “There, did you hear that? That was one of them.”
“Uhhhh…” I’m trying to come up with something intelligent to
say. “Well did they seem aggressive?” I ask.
“There were 2 cubs and a mama. And then we saw another one
too.” ‘How does that answer my question?’ I wonder silently. “Anyway, at the end of this
gravel road there’s a hand pump for water when you get there.”
“If I get there.” I say. They laughed and said I’d be fine,
and we both started walking our separate directions. Well I should say they
walked, and I tiptoed. Knife clenched in my teeth, camera in left hand,
trekking pole ready to fly as a spear in my right. Actually, I’m kidding about
the spear, I couldn’t even get it to stick in a hay bale in PA, it’s not going
into a charging bear. But I did walk gingerly for the next quarter mile, every
sense alert. I faintly heard some snapping down below, but it seemed the bears
moved on. I was actually a little disappointed, I do want to see some bears,
although 4 would have been quite enough at once.
So bear excitement, another plus for New Jersey. And another
plus, now that I’m not watching every next footstep, I can look around. What a
novel idea! I saw a doe, and twin fawns, still in their spots. They were pretty
relaxed, even with me being close to them, then later another doe and fawn,
again, relaxed. The deer I saw in PA were
always bolting off, except for maybe one time.
It just has some great terrain changes here. Once I saw this
craggy rock outcropping maybe 60ft tall and I was thinking it would be great to
climb that, then I soon saw white blazes going up it and I was very pleased. In
PA, you walk across flat ridges, with few decent views, descend at the gaps
into a town, then climb right back up again to another ridge and hike on that
for 30 miles. One after the other. I hate to complain, but it got old after 230
miles. The farm country was the most redeeming part for PA I think, and a few
great towns. So, if you didn’t pick up on it, I’m happy to be in Jersey. It was
a good day.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
7-25-2012 ...A day in Roseto.
It's around 3:00 p.m. and I'm sitting on the front steps of Ruggiero's Market in the town of Roseto, PA, about 3 miles away from the trail. I just got to town and met Kevin, Jack and Pam, I told them about why I'm visiting and they gave me a ride to this market in the back of Kevin's truck. He gave me 5 jalapeno peppers too.
Although this town is out of my way, I knew I had to try to get here. I read about Roseto in a book by Malcolm Gladwell called 'Outliers'.
Back in the early 1960's a physician named Stewart Wolf discovered that people in this town were living well beyond the national average life expectancy. Wolf and his team conducted medical experiments and researched the towns medical records extensively trying to figure out why people were living so much longer than the average American. They found that it wasn't genetics or good eastern PA water or other physical variables that made Rosetans live long, but it was their Italian culture, still so present that kept them going. Three generations living under one roof, people always visiting with each other, nobody trying to get ahead of his neighbor, just a low stress lifestyle was what they concluded, explained their longevity.
This town was founded by and almost whooly comprised of emigrants from the city of Roseto in the Foccia region in Southern Italy. If you read the intro to 'Outliers' on Amazon.com you'll more clearly understand why it intrigued me.
Anyway, they're celebrating their Cent' Anni tonight and the rest of this week and I'm tempted to stay. I really didn't want to linger in PA, but I'm only 8 trail miles away from New Jersey. 'Should I stay or should I go now?' This is kind of like the time we ended up in Louisville on a whim, and looking for something to do asked the girl at Walgreen's, where I was buying shoelaces because my tent was being held up by my current ones, if anything was going on in town and she informed us that Louisville's most popular picnic was going on. I had a great time that night so maybe I should stay. Finding a place to sleep would be the next dilemna. I'm actually in the cemetary now in the shadow of Our Lady of Mount Carmel Church (same name as the one in the original Roseto) Are living people allowed to sleep in cemetaries? There is a spigot here, just like in the woods I try to base my camp around water.
It'd be nice to meet some people, I hitchhiked here and the lady who picked me up, Sheri, said I could shower and eat at her house. I declined awkwardly and I think she thought I thought the wrong thing, She said her husband and 2 kids were at home too. It was nice of her to offer but I wanted to get on with my day and also eat in Roseto, plus I just recently showered only 4 days ago, sooo...
I'll be honest with you, here was what I was expecting to see when I got to this town. I was hoping the asphalt would turn to cobblestone once it hit Garibaldi Avenue and there'd be some old, heavy set Italian woman doing laundy by hand on the sidewalk. She scolds a group of young kids getting into mischief and they listen because they know she'll tell their moms. Then I was hoping to look across the street through a large window to see Sal, of Salvatore's Bakery taking fresh bread from a giant stone oven, with a big, wide smile on his face, shadowed by a giant white mustache. He smiles as if it's his first perfect loaf of bread ever, although it's probably his ten-thousandth perfect loaf. His door jingles and in walks a 12 year old Marco with money and orders from his mother to get 2 fresh loaves for supper because her parents are visiting. "Ah, young Marco!" Sal exclaims in a heavy Italian accent, "Whata can I do for you?" His hands fly through the air in wide gestures. "Two loaves please Sal." He sets the exact amount on the smooth counter. "Coming right up." Sal fluidly wraps the bread and hands it to Marco with a parting comment as he leaves. "And remember..." his words hang melodically in the air for a moment, "Straighta home and don'ta eat any on the way. For your mother will..." he slides his finger across his neck making a funny noise. Marco laughs and heads out, the door jangles behind him. All of a sudden he traps a soccer ball that flies at him from out of nowhere. Some other kids have a game going on in the street. He takes off dribbling while somehow managing the loaves; he dissects the defense of the better team and drains a goal for the younger underdog team. They go crazy running around chanting Marco's name as he heads home. He didn't even break a sweat.
So that was a nice scene I think. This is a great town. Next, as I'm walking around for a deli or something, an ancient lady on a porch yells at me. "How far have you walked?" I tell her about 275 miles. She narrows her eyes to slits, seeing if I waver from my bold statement. I don't. So her face softens again and she says, "Come, come, lunch is almost ready." As I follow her inside the air is thick with the smell of Italian heaven. "My grand-daughter, Giada, she's veesiting for the week and a preety good cook. On TV show, Food Network or something I think, I don't know, she preety good though." As we almost enter the kitchen she stops, spins, and eyes me with one finger in the air."Not as good as me!...." She affirms; then softens again. "But she's preety good."
So we enter the kitchen and who else is in there but Giada from 'Everyday Italian'. I'm speechless of course. She smiles at me but I'm too busy staring right at her perfectly shaped and proportionate...ciabattas; that she just pulled from the oven.
We have a great meal and I can't believe my luck. It's good I came to Roseto.
So, as you can see, I've kinda built this town up in the miles leading to it. The festivities to my left are starting to warm up as I sit here in the cemetary. I guess I'm staying. If I was heading on I wanted to be on the trail by 5. It's 5 til 5. Oh well, might be fun. Music is playing too and I really miss music. I'm going to roam around.....(time elapses)
My roaming around got me right now on a very nice front stoop with wrought iron railing, flagstone deck, brick pillars, cast iron seating, nice flowers and vines and a beautiful elm tree shading it all. Ralph invited me to sit and talk, intrigued I think with my back pack. It's a good ice breaker. Soon I was sitting down chatting with a cold bottle of water. In a little bit his neighbor came out and was called over. "Hey J!, come get a load of this guy!" In not too long a time there were 6 or 7 people hanging out and just talking, J was a kinda hyper active 40 something guy still living with his mom and he couldn't sit still. At one point he was over riffing on his non-amped electric guitar, on his porch. That lasted 2 mins, then he was getting me some info on where to stop at the next town. "
"HEY MAAaa!!.....MAAAA!!!" he yelled into the open door. "What's the name of that church in Delaware Water Gap!?!""
It was funny. I appreciated and took his advice.
So again, we all chatted on the porch, some were on the sidewalk. An older Italian lady was telling me how the town used to be; about all the shops and deli's and restaurants and all. She was just out of high school when they did the health studies on the town. As I listened, and munched on a home-made italian biscuit made by Ralph, I realized I was experiencing exactly what I had hoped for, and what made Roseto famous back then; just simple community fellowship.
After an hour or so I was ready to head up to the festival. The local Catholic HS had pasta fizoli or a spaghetti dish you could dine in the closed of street. While eating and telling the waitress what I was up to, a guy nearby overheard us talking and as I was leaving he wondered if I needed anything. Here was my chance to get a ride back to the mountain.
He said he could and we agreed to meet by the cemetary after he got his Jeep and I filled my water bottles. While I was waiting for him I asked a guy if I could charge my phone on his porch. Gordon was happy to let me do that and we made small talk about the festival and his upside-down tomato plants. Then Mark came by and I thanked Gordon, forgot my chocolate cake though, my dessert from the meal, but left for the mountain with a full stomach, water bottles, phone, and spirit. There was a shelter just a mile away and I was glad to be up there as opposed to sleeping in the town cemetary. I thanked Mark for his generosity of course, and headed North again with a very nice experience in Roseto to always remember. It was a good day.
It's around 3:00 p.m. and I'm sitting on the front steps of Ruggiero's Market in the town of Roseto, PA, about 3 miles away from the trail. I just got to town and met Kevin, Jack and Pam, I told them about why I'm visiting and they gave me a ride to this market in the back of Kevin's truck. He gave me 5 jalapeno peppers too.
Although this town is out of my way, I knew I had to try to get here. I read about Roseto in a book by Malcolm Gladwell called 'Outliers'.
Back in the early 1960's a physician named Stewart Wolf discovered that people in this town were living well beyond the national average life expectancy. Wolf and his team conducted medical experiments and researched the towns medical records extensively trying to figure out why people were living so much longer than the average American. They found that it wasn't genetics or good eastern PA water or other physical variables that made Rosetans live long, but it was their Italian culture, still so present that kept them going. Three generations living under one roof, people always visiting with each other, nobody trying to get ahead of his neighbor, just a low stress lifestyle was what they concluded, explained their longevity.
This town was founded by and almost whooly comprised of emigrants from the city of Roseto in the Foccia region in Southern Italy. If you read the intro to 'Outliers' on Amazon.com you'll more clearly understand why it intrigued me.
Anyway, they're celebrating their Cent' Anni tonight and the rest of this week and I'm tempted to stay. I really didn't want to linger in PA, but I'm only 8 trail miles away from New Jersey. 'Should I stay or should I go now?' This is kind of like the time we ended up in Louisville on a whim, and looking for something to do asked the girl at Walgreen's, where I was buying shoelaces because my tent was being held up by my current ones, if anything was going on in town and she informed us that Louisville's most popular picnic was going on. I had a great time that night so maybe I should stay. Finding a place to sleep would be the next dilemna. I'm actually in the cemetary now in the shadow of Our Lady of Mount Carmel Church (same name as the one in the original Roseto) Are living people allowed to sleep in cemetaries? There is a spigot here, just like in the woods I try to base my camp around water.
It'd be nice to meet some people, I hitchhiked here and the lady who picked me up, Sheri, said I could shower and eat at her house. I declined awkwardly and I think she thought I thought the wrong thing, She said her husband and 2 kids were at home too. It was nice of her to offer but I wanted to get on with my day and also eat in Roseto, plus I just recently showered only 4 days ago, sooo...
I'll be honest with you, here was what I was expecting to see when I got to this town. I was hoping the asphalt would turn to cobblestone once it hit Garibaldi Avenue and there'd be some old, heavy set Italian woman doing laundy by hand on the sidewalk. She scolds a group of young kids getting into mischief and they listen because they know she'll tell their moms. Then I was hoping to look across the street through a large window to see Sal, of Salvatore's Bakery taking fresh bread from a giant stone oven, with a big, wide smile on his face, shadowed by a giant white mustache. He smiles as if it's his first perfect loaf of bread ever, although it's probably his ten-thousandth perfect loaf. His door jingles and in walks a 12 year old Marco with money and orders from his mother to get 2 fresh loaves for supper because her parents are visiting. "Ah, young Marco!" Sal exclaims in a heavy Italian accent, "Whata can I do for you?" His hands fly through the air in wide gestures. "Two loaves please Sal." He sets the exact amount on the smooth counter. "Coming right up." Sal fluidly wraps the bread and hands it to Marco with a parting comment as he leaves. "And remember..." his words hang melodically in the air for a moment, "Straighta home and don'ta eat any on the way. For your mother will..." he slides his finger across his neck making a funny noise. Marco laughs and heads out, the door jangles behind him. All of a sudden he traps a soccer ball that flies at him from out of nowhere. Some other kids have a game going on in the street. He takes off dribbling while somehow managing the loaves; he dissects the defense of the better team and drains a goal for the younger underdog team. They go crazy running around chanting Marco's name as he heads home. He didn't even break a sweat.
So that was a nice scene I think. This is a great town. Next, as I'm walking around for a deli or something, an ancient lady on a porch yells at me. "How far have you walked?" I tell her about 275 miles. She narrows her eyes to slits, seeing if I waver from my bold statement. I don't. So her face softens again and she says, "Come, come, lunch is almost ready." As I follow her inside the air is thick with the smell of Italian heaven. "My grand-daughter, Giada, she's veesiting for the week and a preety good cook. On TV show, Food Network or something I think, I don't know, she preety good though." As we almost enter the kitchen she stops, spins, and eyes me with one finger in the air."Not as good as me!...." She affirms; then softens again. "But she's preety good."
So we enter the kitchen and who else is in there but Giada from 'Everyday Italian'. I'm speechless of course. She smiles at me but I'm too busy staring right at her perfectly shaped and proportionate...ciabattas; that she just pulled from the oven.
We have a great meal and I can't believe my luck. It's good I came to Roseto.
So, as you can see, I've kinda built this town up in the miles leading to it. The festivities to my left are starting to warm up as I sit here in the cemetary. I guess I'm staying. If I was heading on I wanted to be on the trail by 5. It's 5 til 5. Oh well, might be fun. Music is playing too and I really miss music. I'm going to roam around.....(time elapses)
My roaming around got me right now on a very nice front stoop with wrought iron railing, flagstone deck, brick pillars, cast iron seating, nice flowers and vines and a beautiful elm tree shading it all. Ralph invited me to sit and talk, intrigued I think with my back pack. It's a good ice breaker. Soon I was sitting down chatting with a cold bottle of water. In a little bit his neighbor came out and was called over. "Hey J!, come get a load of this guy!" In not too long a time there were 6 or 7 people hanging out and just talking, J was a kinda hyper active 40 something guy still living with his mom and he couldn't sit still. At one point he was over riffing on his non-amped electric guitar, on his porch. That lasted 2 mins, then he was getting me some info on where to stop at the next town. "
"HEY MAAaa!!.....MAAAA!!!" he yelled into the open door. "What's the name of that church in Delaware Water Gap!?!""
It was funny. I appreciated and took his advice.
So again, we all chatted on the porch, some were on the sidewalk. An older Italian lady was telling me how the town used to be; about all the shops and deli's and restaurants and all. She was just out of high school when they did the health studies on the town. As I listened, and munched on a home-made italian biscuit made by Ralph, I realized I was experiencing exactly what I had hoped for, and what made Roseto famous back then; just simple community fellowship.
After an hour or so I was ready to head up to the festival. The local Catholic HS had pasta fizoli or a spaghetti dish you could dine in the closed of street. While eating and telling the waitress what I was up to, a guy nearby overheard us talking and as I was leaving he wondered if I needed anything. Here was my chance to get a ride back to the mountain.
He said he could and we agreed to meet by the cemetary after he got his Jeep and I filled my water bottles. While I was waiting for him I asked a guy if I could charge my phone on his porch. Gordon was happy to let me do that and we made small talk about the festival and his upside-down tomato plants. Then Mark came by and I thanked Gordon, forgot my chocolate cake though, my dessert from the meal, but left for the mountain with a full stomach, water bottles, phone, and spirit. There was a shelter just a mile away and I was glad to be up there as opposed to sleeping in the town cemetary. I thanked Mark for his generosity of course, and headed North again with a very nice experience in Roseto to always remember. It was a good day.
...On My Journey to Palmerton.
So soon after the delicious dumpling. I started walking,. Took the wrong turn, got lost, then found my way again. It was a nice afternoon around 3 and I was just getting this nice feeling that it was so pleasant just to be hiking. I began to kick around trying to make it to the hostel by 10 o'clock, the time you have to be there to get in. I did the math and realized if I hustled I could make it. I decided to try. And that decision alone got me going, I was thinking I was crazy. It would be a 27 mile day or around there. I started walking faster, almost jogged for awhile, then speed walked, then jogged some more. My feet didn't hurt when I was doing this. Then came some big rocks where lots of people were hanging out, It was afterall a Saturday evening and people were out day hiking. I was just buzzing by them skipping over rocks quite fluidly. I blew past this teenage couple looking like they were up to no good on a Lovers Leap type spot, they turned as they heard me zip by behind them but I doubt they saw but a blur, I was gone in a flash. I wanted to yell in a parental tone "You kids behave yourselves!" but decided not to. So I kept this pace up for awhile, got this little saying in my head, "Hiking today? I am not done, I'm pushing on down into Palmerton." I don't know why but I kept thinking it and it was fun. So I finally started the descent into the valley soon after I caught some breathtaking sunset views. Darkness then fell and I had to use my headlamp to negotiate the rocks. I got to the bottom with now very sore feet and legs. Whatever was making the evening hike thus far painless was wearing off quickly. I had a dull pain rising up the middle of my legs from my arches. There was supposedly a blue blaze trail into town but I couldn't find it, I couldn't even find the A.T, but there was a sign for cars pointing to Palmerton so I decided to go via the road. Well it was crazy busy and I had cars rushing by 4 feet from me, walking with tired legs I clung my left arm to the guard rail as I walked not wanting to collapse for some reason into traffic. Sounds weak but I wasn't taking chances, So I jumped on some paralleling railroad tracks and walked on them. Well it was about 20 til 10 when I saw a sign that said Palmerton exit 1/4 mile. I hopped back on the road and started hustling, with my headlamp strobe going so I could be seen. Then finally the town came into view, 10 mins til 10, but there was a gas station and I could really use a chocolate milk, so I made the time. Spilled it all over myself as I hurried down the street past the nice park, over the smashed squirrel on the sidewalk, ah, and finally, to the building with police cars, my building. I looked at my phone, 9:59, even more climactic than the 9:55 I was thinking I might make it by earlier that day. So I hobbled up the steps. Knocked. Nothing. Read the sign. 'Please use side entrance' I hustled over, still 9:59! Climbed the steps, knocked. Ah, I made it just in time! Great story right? Wrong. I got no answer. No one came. I went down to the darkened street, now mins after 10 and didn't know what to do. So I asked some joggers and they said I needed the borough building down the way a bit, 2 blocks, this was the municipal building. Well I figured I was too late but I'd try. So I went down. Summited another set of steps, knocked. Nothing again, I was getting tired of this. Called the numbers posted for after hours hikers and got nobody. So I sat on the bench ready to fall asleep right there when a guy walked by. I recognized his hat and his limp. He was Backtrack, he was in the shelter I was in the previous night. How did he do 27 miles that day? Then I realized he slackpacked. He was going back to get his cell phone at a restaurant. His trail name made sense to me. So I asked about the hostel and he's like, "Oh yeah, just go around the side and down the steps, they're not really picky, there's plenty of room." So the whole 10:00 thing wasn't a big deal? I didn't care, I was glad to be there. I went into the basement and saw Red Wolf. He said, "Man, did you just get off the mountain?" and I gave a weary "Yeah" and he was like,"Man you are EPIC!" I smiled. They're all part of a group that slackpacks, which means they get their packs hauled ahead a certain amount of miles via a car, and then can walk without packs. Easy peasy. So I enjoyed my non-slackpacking epic-ness as I found a bunk, I was hoping for a mattress but only got one of those chainlink springs with a piece of plywood on it. Oh well I laid down and it was great. My legs felt like they were asleep and that dull pain was up the middle of them. That didn't seem right but I wasn't too worried, I planned on taking the next day off to rest. And I did. And it was nice. And that's my 110 miles in 5 days, I only missed my goal by a couple hours and that made me happy.
So soon after the delicious dumpling. I started walking,. Took the wrong turn, got lost, then found my way again. It was a nice afternoon around 3 and I was just getting this nice feeling that it was so pleasant just to be hiking. I began to kick around trying to make it to the hostel by 10 o'clock, the time you have to be there to get in. I did the math and realized if I hustled I could make it. I decided to try. And that decision alone got me going, I was thinking I was crazy. It would be a 27 mile day or around there. I started walking faster, almost jogged for awhile, then speed walked, then jogged some more. My feet didn't hurt when I was doing this. Then came some big rocks where lots of people were hanging out, It was afterall a Saturday evening and people were out day hiking. I was just buzzing by them skipping over rocks quite fluidly. I blew past this teenage couple looking like they were up to no good on a Lovers Leap type spot, they turned as they heard me zip by behind them but I doubt they saw but a blur, I was gone in a flash. I wanted to yell in a parental tone "You kids behave yourselves!" but decided not to. So I kept this pace up for awhile, got this little saying in my head, "Hiking today? I am not done, I'm pushing on down into Palmerton." I don't know why but I kept thinking it and it was fun. So I finally started the descent into the valley soon after I caught some breathtaking sunset views. Darkness then fell and I had to use my headlamp to negotiate the rocks. I got to the bottom with now very sore feet and legs. Whatever was making the evening hike thus far painless was wearing off quickly. I had a dull pain rising up the middle of my legs from my arches. There was supposedly a blue blaze trail into town but I couldn't find it, I couldn't even find the A.T, but there was a sign for cars pointing to Palmerton so I decided to go via the road. Well it was crazy busy and I had cars rushing by 4 feet from me, walking with tired legs I clung my left arm to the guard rail as I walked not wanting to collapse for some reason into traffic. Sounds weak but I wasn't taking chances, So I jumped on some paralleling railroad tracks and walked on them. Well it was about 20 til 10 when I saw a sign that said Palmerton exit 1/4 mile. I hopped back on the road and started hustling, with my headlamp strobe going so I could be seen. Then finally the town came into view, 10 mins til 10, but there was a gas station and I could really use a chocolate milk, so I made the time. Spilled it all over myself as I hurried down the street past the nice park, over the smashed squirrel on the sidewalk, ah, and finally, to the building with police cars, my building. I looked at my phone, 9:59, even more climactic than the 9:55 I was thinking I might make it by earlier that day. So I hobbled up the steps. Knocked. Nothing. Read the sign. 'Please use side entrance' I hustled over, still 9:59! Climbed the steps, knocked. Ah, I made it just in time! Great story right? Wrong. I got no answer. No one came. I went down to the darkened street, now mins after 10 and didn't know what to do. So I asked some joggers and they said I needed the borough building down the way a bit, 2 blocks, this was the municipal building. Well I figured I was too late but I'd try. So I went down. Summited another set of steps, knocked. Nothing again, I was getting tired of this. Called the numbers posted for after hours hikers and got nobody. So I sat on the bench ready to fall asleep right there when a guy walked by. I recognized his hat and his limp. He was Backtrack, he was in the shelter I was in the previous night. How did he do 27 miles that day? Then I realized he slackpacked. He was going back to get his cell phone at a restaurant. His trail name made sense to me. So I asked about the hostel and he's like, "Oh yeah, just go around the side and down the steps, they're not really picky, there's plenty of room." So the whole 10:00 thing wasn't a big deal? I didn't care, I was glad to be there. I went into the basement and saw Red Wolf. He said, "Man, did you just get off the mountain?" and I gave a weary "Yeah" and he was like,"Man you are EPIC!" I smiled. They're all part of a group that slackpacks, which means they get their packs hauled ahead a certain amount of miles via a car, and then can walk without packs. Easy peasy. So I enjoyed my non-slackpacking epic-ness as I found a bunk, I was hoping for a mattress but only got one of those chainlink springs with a piece of plywood on it. Oh well I laid down and it was great. My legs felt like they were asleep and that dull pain was up the middle of them. That didn't seem right but I wasn't too worried, I planned on taking the next day off to rest. And I did. And it was nice. And that's my 110 miles in 5 days, I only missed my goal by a couple hours and that made me happy.
Monday, July 30, 2012
July 22
It's Sunday night and I'm in the Jailhouse Hostel in Palmerton, PA about 36 miles from New Jersey. It's not really a jail, just the basement of the borough building. My last 5 days have been rough. I guess in Duncannon I got it in my head to do 110 miles in less than 5 days. It looked good on paper and I was feeling confident I was getting my trail legs. Plus Stanimal and Lola hitchhiked to Virginia on Sunday for a week off with his girlfriend, I know, weak, haha. So while it was great to start with them because they usually do 13 to 15 miles per day, I was ready to start busting out some big mileage days and get the heck out of Pennsylvania, or Rocksylvania as it's not so affectionately referred to by thru hikers. This goal of mine I'd soon find out would prove to be very tough and painful to meet.
The rocks on the trail are as numerous as the grains of sand on the beach. One time a hiker name Fictional Joe tried to clear the rocks from the PA trail. After 2 weeks of labor with a pry bar he gave up. He made it a distance of 5 feet. Apart form 20 miles north of boiling springs where you're hiking through farms, you're on rocks. They're constantly trying to make you slip off of them, sprain your ankles, get your poles caught in them, lure you into a compound fracture. Some of them pop up from the ground right as you pass over and trip you.
I don't mind the big boulders, you can get some momentum skipping across them and it's fun because your mind and body are so in synch at such a fast pace the time and miles go quickly. Plus if your feet are hurting it's not so bad because you've got a little adrenaline rush going.
My first night into this little trip was with that Puma Ghost Walker. I was glad he was there because it was in the middle of nowhere and these deer were hanging around the site all night because of some good grass in the site. I'd be sound asleep and then a stick would snap like 10 feet away from me. I'd check it out with my headlamp, expecting to see a 400 lb. bear munching on Puma but it would just be a dumb deer staring at me. After this happened a few times i didn't worry anymore. I'm not really worried about bears but where you're in the woods at night and a stick snaps close by, they're not far from your thoughts.
So that was a good day, next day I did about 22 miles and ended up at 501 Shelter, 3 miles short of my goal but I was beat. Plus it was close to a road so you could order pizza which I didn't hesitate to do. Pizza is one of those life sustaining substances, like water, that are very important on the trail.
Also, a cold outdoor shower the next morning was very nice. Little things like that help alot. 3rd day I did 24 miles to Port Clinton. Slept in a pavillion where hikers are allowed to sleep. The next morning as it poured rain I was very slow to rise but noticed many new hikers, to me at least. I was catching up to new people. I spent some time mending my feet til 10:30 rolled around and I knew I had to go, although I was tempted to go to a nearby restaurant to get a good breakfast, I knew a morale lift wouldn't make my feet feel better, so I trudged off into the rain knowing I had to get it over with. One other hiker stayed behind in his sleeping bag, he said he wasn't hiking in the rain. I felt tougher than him as I left. It was the hardest day yet. That was 17 miles I think. One part was very nice though towards the end. the leaves on the trees were like an electric green color, and the tree trunks and branches appeared jet black because of being wet and an eerie fog was amongst it all. I did like that part, it was beautiful in an unsettling way I guess if that makes any sense.
Day 5 of this whole thing was my best day on the trail yet. I left Eckville Shelter around 8:30 planning to do about 17 miles, with just slight thought that if I felt good I could push on to Palmerton but I doubted it with how I was feeling. Around noon I guess I started to get a craving for some pie and coffee and I couldn't stop thinking about it. A coconut cream or peanut butter pie and coffe would just hit the nail right on the head I kept thinking. So I had no expectations for this until I passed a lady heading south and she said in passing I should get water at the restaurant because there isn't sany for another 10 miles or something. In my mind I was like, "Restaurant?" Restaurants have pie. So I didn't put care about the whole no water for 10 miles thing. I had a new mission. In a few miles where the trail crosses PA route 309 was Blue Mtn Summit Bed and Breakfast. I stopped in of course and a guy Piedmont I'd been walking with was already there and said he'd ordered an apple dumpling. Well that was even better than pie. "Do you want ice cream too? 50 cents a scoop." 'Do I want ice cream?' Dumb question. "2 scoops I said."
Have you ever heard about how the human body knows what it needs and can subconciously express those needs. For example, I heard about a guy stranded on a raft at sea for days. He was getting by with rain water and raw fish but eventually just had this desire to eat fish eyeballs. And he did. I guess there were some vitamins or minerals avialable only in the eyeballs that his body knew he needed. So I wasn't taking it lightly that my body said it needed pie.
I got some coffee too and some ice water and it was all very amazing. That's the one thing I'm loving about this trail. Every morning I wake up and have no idea what's going to happen that day. You might be blessed with an apple dumpling, or help a little kid put back on his training wheel after he took a turn too fast, or have some meddling teenagers who are up to no good throw small sticks at you and then run away as you nap under a pavillion in a park. You just never know, it's pretty fun.. Well it's 12:36 a.m. right now and I havn't gotten to the best part yet about this 110 mile mine trip.
It's Sunday night and I'm in the Jailhouse Hostel in Palmerton, PA about 36 miles from New Jersey. It's not really a jail, just the basement of the borough building. My last 5 days have been rough. I guess in Duncannon I got it in my head to do 110 miles in less than 5 days. It looked good on paper and I was feeling confident I was getting my trail legs. Plus Stanimal and Lola hitchhiked to Virginia on Sunday for a week off with his girlfriend, I know, weak, haha. So while it was great to start with them because they usually do 13 to 15 miles per day, I was ready to start busting out some big mileage days and get the heck out of Pennsylvania, or Rocksylvania as it's not so affectionately referred to by thru hikers. This goal of mine I'd soon find out would prove to be very tough and painful to meet.
The rocks on the trail are as numerous as the grains of sand on the beach. One time a hiker name Fictional Joe tried to clear the rocks from the PA trail. After 2 weeks of labor with a pry bar he gave up. He made it a distance of 5 feet. Apart form 20 miles north of boiling springs where you're hiking through farms, you're on rocks. They're constantly trying to make you slip off of them, sprain your ankles, get your poles caught in them, lure you into a compound fracture. Some of them pop up from the ground right as you pass over and trip you.
I don't mind the big boulders, you can get some momentum skipping across them and it's fun because your mind and body are so in synch at such a fast pace the time and miles go quickly. Plus if your feet are hurting it's not so bad because you've got a little adrenaline rush going.
My first night into this little trip was with that Puma Ghost Walker. I was glad he was there because it was in the middle of nowhere and these deer were hanging around the site all night because of some good grass in the site. I'd be sound asleep and then a stick would snap like 10 feet away from me. I'd check it out with my headlamp, expecting to see a 400 lb. bear munching on Puma but it would just be a dumb deer staring at me. After this happened a few times i didn't worry anymore. I'm not really worried about bears but where you're in the woods at night and a stick snaps close by, they're not far from your thoughts.
So that was a good day, next day I did about 22 miles and ended up at 501 Shelter, 3 miles short of my goal but I was beat. Plus it was close to a road so you could order pizza which I didn't hesitate to do. Pizza is one of those life sustaining substances, like water, that are very important on the trail.
Also, a cold outdoor shower the next morning was very nice. Little things like that help alot. 3rd day I did 24 miles to Port Clinton. Slept in a pavillion where hikers are allowed to sleep. The next morning as it poured rain I was very slow to rise but noticed many new hikers, to me at least. I was catching up to new people. I spent some time mending my feet til 10:30 rolled around and I knew I had to go, although I was tempted to go to a nearby restaurant to get a good breakfast, I knew a morale lift wouldn't make my feet feel better, so I trudged off into the rain knowing I had to get it over with. One other hiker stayed behind in his sleeping bag, he said he wasn't hiking in the rain. I felt tougher than him as I left. It was the hardest day yet. That was 17 miles I think. One part was very nice though towards the end. the leaves on the trees were like an electric green color, and the tree trunks and branches appeared jet black because of being wet and an eerie fog was amongst it all. I did like that part, it was beautiful in an unsettling way I guess if that makes any sense.
Day 5 of this whole thing was my best day on the trail yet. I left Eckville Shelter around 8:30 planning to do about 17 miles, with just slight thought that if I felt good I could push on to Palmerton but I doubted it with how I was feeling. Around noon I guess I started to get a craving for some pie and coffee and I couldn't stop thinking about it. A coconut cream or peanut butter pie and coffe would just hit the nail right on the head I kept thinking. So I had no expectations for this until I passed a lady heading south and she said in passing I should get water at the restaurant because there isn't sany for another 10 miles or something. In my mind I was like, "Restaurant?" Restaurants have pie. So I didn't put care about the whole no water for 10 miles thing. I had a new mission. In a few miles where the trail crosses PA route 309 was Blue Mtn Summit Bed and Breakfast. I stopped in of course and a guy Piedmont I'd been walking with was already there and said he'd ordered an apple dumpling. Well that was even better than pie. "Do you want ice cream too? 50 cents a scoop." 'Do I want ice cream?' Dumb question. "2 scoops I said."
Have you ever heard about how the human body knows what it needs and can subconciously express those needs. For example, I heard about a guy stranded on a raft at sea for days. He was getting by with rain water and raw fish but eventually just had this desire to eat fish eyeballs. And he did. I guess there were some vitamins or minerals avialable only in the eyeballs that his body knew he needed. So I wasn't taking it lightly that my body said it needed pie.
I got some coffee too and some ice water and it was all very amazing. That's the one thing I'm loving about this trail. Every morning I wake up and have no idea what's going to happen that day. You might be blessed with an apple dumpling, or help a little kid put back on his training wheel after he took a turn too fast, or have some meddling teenagers who are up to no good throw small sticks at you and then run away as you nap under a pavillion in a park. You just never know, it's pretty fun.. Well it's 12:36 a.m. right now and I havn't gotten to the best part yet about this 110 mile mine trip.
July 20th. Yeah, that 27 miles never happened. I limped into Port Clinton last night as darkness fell. It was a rough da, only superceded in foot pain by today. They're a blistered mess. My blisters have blisters. I don't know how many miles I did today but it wasn't the 25 I had in mind. 100 miles in 4 days was too lofty a goal for my feet. Ordered pizza again from this Eckville shelter. I need it because I don't have enough food to get to the next town 25 miles away. I need to break that into 2 days I think. I just looked at the guide, 17 miles tom. and 8 or 9 the next day then a day off. I can't wait. This shelter is nice but small, I'm sleeping on a chaise lounge and it'll be cold because we have to keep the doors open because some bird has a nest in here.
July 18th
Today I did 22 miles. It was the hardest day for my feet. They're hurting. A few blisters. Got soaked for 20 mins today but it felt great and cooled me off. One spot was hard to make good time because I kept picking black raspberries. A huge day tomorrow to get back on track. 27 miles? I'm trying to do 110 miles in 4.5 days.. Hopefully. I'm ready to be done with PA and these rocks. Big calories tonight with some pizza I ordered. (this shelter is close to a road) So hopefully some good energy for tomorrow.
Today I did 22 miles. It was the hardest day for my feet. They're hurting. A few blisters. Got soaked for 20 mins today but it felt great and cooled me off. One spot was hard to make good time because I kept picking black raspberries. A huge day tomorrow to get back on track. 27 miles? I'm trying to do 110 miles in 4.5 days.. Hopefully. I'm ready to be done with PA and these rocks. Big calories tonight with some pizza I ordered. (this shelter is close to a road) So hopefully some good energy for tomorrow.
July 17th
I'm pretty beat right now and I don't have much to say. I busted out 25 miles today. I felt light on my feet this morning and well rested from my nero in Duncannon. My dad's buddy Jude's advise came in handy today, he's been section hiking for years and reccomended I take an extra water bottle north out of Duncannon. I needed it. Still had to go 4 miles on about 3 gulps. Reaching the next spring was incredible.He also said I should get a bug net which came in very handy. I'm sharing a tent site now on a mtn with Puma Ghost Walker. Interesting guy. Last night was nice catching up at the Doyle with my friend Ted. He thru hiked in 08' and is a great resource as I hop these mtns. It was good to see him again. Well I'm tired. Goodnight.
I'm pretty beat right now and I don't have much to say. I busted out 25 miles today. I felt light on my feet this morning and well rested from my nero in Duncannon. My dad's buddy Jude's advise came in handy today, he's been section hiking for years and reccomended I take an extra water bottle north out of Duncannon. I needed it. Still had to go 4 miles on about 3 gulps. Reaching the next spring was incredible.He also said I should get a bug net which came in very handy. I'm sharing a tent site now on a mtn with Puma Ghost Walker. Interesting guy. Last night was nice catching up at the Doyle with my friend Ted. He thru hiked in 08' and is a great resource as I hop these mtns. It was good to see him again. Well I'm tired. Goodnight.
Monday, July 23, 2012
7-14-12
What a day this has been with its ups and downs. Literal and figurative. It seems like forever ago, around 11 a.m. this morning I laboriously filled my water bottle up with my Katadin Hiker Pro filter at a creek by Whiskey Spring Rd, only to drop the open water bottle immediately into the stream I just filtered into it. Then immense frustration consumed me when I couldn't get the stupid thing to prime for 20 mins. That was a low. Highs though, kinda random. Some guy working on a laptop at an outdoor cafe in Boiling Springs PA offers us the opportunity to shower at his house. He drove us there, Stanimal, Lola and I, and then left for about an hour, basically saying 'make yourselves at home.' All the while I'm wondering, "Who does this?" Stanimal, who has already thru hiked once assurred me it's normal. Maybe in trail towns but anywhere else you don't casually mention in conversation with strangers "Hey, so do you need to take a shower at my house?" What is this trail culture? It's so fascinating.
Then I guess the other high point of the day was when we met this girl named Michelle, a very nice insurance saleswoman in her early 30's, a few miles north of Boiling Springs, and she offers her porch for us to sleep on in Mechanicsburg. It looked like rain so of course I'd rather be on a porch than in the woods during a rainstorm or T-storm, but she had to clear it with her roomate. At first it seemed hopeful as she communicated with her roomate via txt, like we almost had the go ahead, the one catch was though that we weren't allowed in the house, which we were fine with, but soon it seemed it wouldn't work out. Her roomates parents were over and it would just be awkward bringing two sweaty hiker strangers over so they could sleep on the porch. So we went our separate ways at the Trimble Rd parking lot expecting to never see her again. As we proceded north with the fading evening through the pastoral corn and soybean fields I was a little sad it didn't work out. I'm always wondering if the next person I meet on the trail will be someone I'll randomly become good friends with. So we pressed on and now had to focus on finding a good stealth site now that the porch deal fell through. Well long story short, Michelle emails Stanimal, he gave her his info about his trail journals account or something and all of a sudden we're back on for the porch, still can't go in the house though. So she pick us up on Old Stone House Rd and what a thrill it is to ride in a car again, with the windows down and the wind in your face. I wanted to stick my head out the window like a dog. When walking at 2.5 mph the wind doesn't exactly whistle by. So we came to her house and just relaxed our Saturday night away in her back yard around a fire til 1:30 a.m. having the best conversations. It's wierd but personal things you'd think would take years to form a trust to talk about we shared. Maybe the fact that we're complete strangers and have the luxery to go our separate ways tomorrow enables us to do that. It's the contrary though I think. I find myself wanting to seal this new friendship and christen it with the one almighty and abiding modern day symbol of continued cordial alliance; become Facebook friends with her.
7-15-12
On the trail for the 8th day now, with over 100 miles under my feet. I woke up this morning to Lola chasing Dakota, Michelle's cat right past my head. We had a nice morning. Somehow we were permitted inside, took turns taking a shower (2 hot showers 2 days in a row, that's rare on the trail) Had some great coffee, the went to Deiner's Dine in Mechanicsburg. It was within easy walking distance from her place and I was enjoying looking at the old houses along Michelle's road. This whole stretch of PA has amazing barns and old stone houses that always turn my head. After breakfast the trail was calling and we returned with clean bodies and clothes. She did our laundry. Later she said it was for her benefit though. And lastly we had a new friend, the best part. I couldn't help but feel like I softened up a bit with that luxery. My pack felt heavy and I felt slow. It was a hot day and Lola struggled a little until she cooled off in the Conodoguinet River. Then I lost Stanimal and her and soon found thunder bearing down on me. I felt confident I'd finally be walking in the rain soon and I was right. At the base of this mountain I had to climb it really started coming down. Soon the trail turned into a small river. Then soon another River was coming down the trail. I couldn't believe it but it was River, the first guy I met on the trail. He was very thrilled with the rain and spoke passionately about how nourishing it is for the brown, dry earth, shaking an invisible sphere up and down like he had the whole world in his hands. I knew he was right, the corn below needed it bad and it was very refreshing. We caught up and had a suprisingly pleasant convo despite standing in a complete downpour. I was great to see him again, almost exactly a week later to the hour. At the top of the mountain the storm stopped, my feet and shorts were soaked but my pack was dry because of my pack cover. Overall it was good, I stopped at the Darlington shelter to see if Stanimal was there but it just Gravy, Animal, a sick and sleeping Dimples, and some other guy. I pressed on to Cove Mtn Shelter and barely beat another storm. There was a section hiker here named Blackfoot who buys storage lockers in Philly. Stan and Lola must have went the extra 4 miles into Duncannon. I was fine with crashing here and saving some cash, plus I would have gotten drenched, plus this is a timberframe shelter so it's already cooler than any other shelter. It's chewed up a little bit by porcupines though, and as I lay here I could reach out and touch 3 big wolf spiders if I wanted to. These guys have like a 2 inch diameter. I'd kill them but what if there are more and it just angers the masses. I'm not sure I want to take the chance, but I also don't want to get bit by one or accidentally eat one in my sleep.
Animal and Gravy just came trudging in, soaked, then just a min ago a mom and son came too. Full house. There is also an annoying cat that won't stop meowing.
These spiders are eyeing me up. I need to kill them. One fast move with a knife......
...Well I winged on and just made the other two mad. I'm in for it for sure.
I wonder what the others think as lay here with my headlamp on, stabbing at the wall with my knife.
(A little later)
...Well I cleaved two of them asunder but missed the one I winged so hopfully he bleeds out. I should be ok. Tomorrow will be my first Nero day, a day near zero miles. I'll be hanging out at the infamous Doyle Hotel and resting my weary bones. After that it's 20's.
What a day this has been with its ups and downs. Literal and figurative. It seems like forever ago, around 11 a.m. this morning I laboriously filled my water bottle up with my Katadin Hiker Pro filter at a creek by Whiskey Spring Rd, only to drop the open water bottle immediately into the stream I just filtered into it. Then immense frustration consumed me when I couldn't get the stupid thing to prime for 20 mins. That was a low. Highs though, kinda random. Some guy working on a laptop at an outdoor cafe in Boiling Springs PA offers us the opportunity to shower at his house. He drove us there, Stanimal, Lola and I, and then left for about an hour, basically saying 'make yourselves at home.' All the while I'm wondering, "Who does this?" Stanimal, who has already thru hiked once assurred me it's normal. Maybe in trail towns but anywhere else you don't casually mention in conversation with strangers "Hey, so do you need to take a shower at my house?" What is this trail culture? It's so fascinating.
Then I guess the other high point of the day was when we met this girl named Michelle, a very nice insurance saleswoman in her early 30's, a few miles north of Boiling Springs, and she offers her porch for us to sleep on in Mechanicsburg. It looked like rain so of course I'd rather be on a porch than in the woods during a rainstorm or T-storm, but she had to clear it with her roomate. At first it seemed hopeful as she communicated with her roomate via txt, like we almost had the go ahead, the one catch was though that we weren't allowed in the house, which we were fine with, but soon it seemed it wouldn't work out. Her roomates parents were over and it would just be awkward bringing two sweaty hiker strangers over so they could sleep on the porch. So we went our separate ways at the Trimble Rd parking lot expecting to never see her again. As we proceded north with the fading evening through the pastoral corn and soybean fields I was a little sad it didn't work out. I'm always wondering if the next person I meet on the trail will be someone I'll randomly become good friends with. So we pressed on and now had to focus on finding a good stealth site now that the porch deal fell through. Well long story short, Michelle emails Stanimal, he gave her his info about his trail journals account or something and all of a sudden we're back on for the porch, still can't go in the house though. So she pick us up on Old Stone House Rd and what a thrill it is to ride in a car again, with the windows down and the wind in your face. I wanted to stick my head out the window like a dog. When walking at 2.5 mph the wind doesn't exactly whistle by. So we came to her house and just relaxed our Saturday night away in her back yard around a fire til 1:30 a.m. having the best conversations. It's wierd but personal things you'd think would take years to form a trust to talk about we shared. Maybe the fact that we're complete strangers and have the luxery to go our separate ways tomorrow enables us to do that. It's the contrary though I think. I find myself wanting to seal this new friendship and christen it with the one almighty and abiding modern day symbol of continued cordial alliance; become Facebook friends with her.
7-15-12
On the trail for the 8th day now, with over 100 miles under my feet. I woke up this morning to Lola chasing Dakota, Michelle's cat right past my head. We had a nice morning. Somehow we were permitted inside, took turns taking a shower (2 hot showers 2 days in a row, that's rare on the trail) Had some great coffee, the went to Deiner's Dine in Mechanicsburg. It was within easy walking distance from her place and I was enjoying looking at the old houses along Michelle's road. This whole stretch of PA has amazing barns and old stone houses that always turn my head. After breakfast the trail was calling and we returned with clean bodies and clothes. She did our laundry. Later she said it was for her benefit though. And lastly we had a new friend, the best part. I couldn't help but feel like I softened up a bit with that luxery. My pack felt heavy and I felt slow. It was a hot day and Lola struggled a little until she cooled off in the Conodoguinet River. Then I lost Stanimal and her and soon found thunder bearing down on me. I felt confident I'd finally be walking in the rain soon and I was right. At the base of this mountain I had to climb it really started coming down. Soon the trail turned into a small river. Then soon another River was coming down the trail. I couldn't believe it but it was River, the first guy I met on the trail. He was very thrilled with the rain and spoke passionately about how nourishing it is for the brown, dry earth, shaking an invisible sphere up and down like he had the whole world in his hands. I knew he was right, the corn below needed it bad and it was very refreshing. We caught up and had a suprisingly pleasant convo despite standing in a complete downpour. I was great to see him again, almost exactly a week later to the hour. At the top of the mountain the storm stopped, my feet and shorts were soaked but my pack was dry because of my pack cover. Overall it was good, I stopped at the Darlington shelter to see if Stanimal was there but it just Gravy, Animal, a sick and sleeping Dimples, and some other guy. I pressed on to Cove Mtn Shelter and barely beat another storm. There was a section hiker here named Blackfoot who buys storage lockers in Philly. Stan and Lola must have went the extra 4 miles into Duncannon. I was fine with crashing here and saving some cash, plus I would have gotten drenched, plus this is a timberframe shelter so it's already cooler than any other shelter. It's chewed up a little bit by porcupines though, and as I lay here I could reach out and touch 3 big wolf spiders if I wanted to. These guys have like a 2 inch diameter. I'd kill them but what if there are more and it just angers the masses. I'm not sure I want to take the chance, but I also don't want to get bit by one or accidentally eat one in my sleep.
Animal and Gravy just came trudging in, soaked, then just a min ago a mom and son came too. Full house. There is also an annoying cat that won't stop meowing.
These spiders are eyeing me up. I need to kill them. One fast move with a knife......
...Well I winged on and just made the other two mad. I'm in for it for sure.
I wonder what the others think as lay here with my headlamp on, stabbing at the wall with my knife.
(A little later)
...Well I cleaved two of them asunder but missed the one I winged so hopfully he bleeds out. I should be ok. Tomorrow will be my first Nero day, a day near zero miles. I'll be hanging out at the infamous Doyle Hotel and resting my weary bones. After that it's 20's.
7-12-12 Evening at Birch Run Shelter...
We started the day with a nice breakfast at the Flamingo. Did a quick resupply at Dollar General then, and now I'm ready in the event I get another bout of chaffing in any unpleasant places. I'm just glad I had that olive oil that first day. I didn't need much food, but bought some oatmeal and pepperoni and a tiny deodorant bar which may make me less abrasive to innocent noses on town visits.Hitchhiking back to the trail wasn't going well for the first 15-20 mins, and then a blue truck pulled over and old Crawdad hopped out, what luck! I don't know what he does, I guess he just runs slackpackers around. Slackpacking is when someone takes your backpack miles ahead for you via road so you don't have to carry it on the trail. He had a couple of packs and bounce boxes in his truck bed so we just rode on the tailgate. I could see two other heads with dreads in the cab so there was no room up front.
After getting back to the trail it was so nice to be back in the woods and away from the Scottish Inn and Suites. I felt like I had to check myself for ticks moreso after leaving the hotel than after being in the woods.
This site is very nice, lots of great spots for hanging a hammock, and not crowded in case it rains and I want to sleep in the shelter. There's a boyscout group down the way that said we could have some smores later if we want. I may jsut go to bed though, early start tomorrow. Half gallon challenge at Pine Grove possibly, A.T. Museum, and final destination James Fry Shelter 17.1 miles away. It'll be my longest day yet.
7-13-12
The trend continues, 10 mins after I get to the Pine Grove Furnace State Park it started raining. I'm hanging out right now in front of the General Store with Stanimal, Lola, Red Bearfield, a ridgerunner (they patrol sections of the trail all summer) Sketch and 2 German guys. This is the spot for the half gallon challenge, an unofficial competition to see who can eat a half gallon of ice cream in the fastest time. I have 7 more miles today so I'm opting out doing it with a half gallon of dairy in my gut. Went for a cone instead.
Nothing too crazy so far today, saw 2 deer, had to walk right under a hornets nest, at one point the trail became very narrow and it was in this wierd, staghorn sumac forest, and I realized I hadn't seen a white blaze in awhile, so for a few mins I was nervous that I'd taken a wrong turn until I saw one of the German's backpacks bobbing up and down in the distance. So I was relieved. We got a nice early start, on the trail by 20 mins til 7, so we've got time to rest with 10 miles done already today.
Last night was kinda funny, I set my hammock and laid down to test it, when I looked up there was a dead tree ominously hanging right over me. So I didn't want to get smashed if it decided to fall that night, so I pivoted over to a young healthy hemlock.
Then this group of Boyscouts nearby were carrying on a little but it was pretty funny. One kid exclusively talked in this creepy, deep voice. So I'm laying there trying to sleep and this deep, dark, scary voice is growling from the woods below me with a bunch of giggles every once in awhile coming from the other scouts. Before I drifted off he shared a poem I recall, "Roses are Red, Violets are Blue. Alone on Valentines Day? Good for you."
I think I went to sleep with a smile on my face.
We started the day with a nice breakfast at the Flamingo. Did a quick resupply at Dollar General then, and now I'm ready in the event I get another bout of chaffing in any unpleasant places. I'm just glad I had that olive oil that first day. I didn't need much food, but bought some oatmeal and pepperoni and a tiny deodorant bar which may make me less abrasive to innocent noses on town visits.Hitchhiking back to the trail wasn't going well for the first 15-20 mins, and then a blue truck pulled over and old Crawdad hopped out, what luck! I don't know what he does, I guess he just runs slackpackers around. Slackpacking is when someone takes your backpack miles ahead for you via road so you don't have to carry it on the trail. He had a couple of packs and bounce boxes in his truck bed so we just rode on the tailgate. I could see two other heads with dreads in the cab so there was no room up front.
After getting back to the trail it was so nice to be back in the woods and away from the Scottish Inn and Suites. I felt like I had to check myself for ticks moreso after leaving the hotel than after being in the woods.
This site is very nice, lots of great spots for hanging a hammock, and not crowded in case it rains and I want to sleep in the shelter. There's a boyscout group down the way that said we could have some smores later if we want. I may jsut go to bed though, early start tomorrow. Half gallon challenge at Pine Grove possibly, A.T. Museum, and final destination James Fry Shelter 17.1 miles away. It'll be my longest day yet.
7-13-12
The trend continues, 10 mins after I get to the Pine Grove Furnace State Park it started raining. I'm hanging out right now in front of the General Store with Stanimal, Lola, Red Bearfield, a ridgerunner (they patrol sections of the trail all summer) Sketch and 2 German guys. This is the spot for the half gallon challenge, an unofficial competition to see who can eat a half gallon of ice cream in the fastest time. I have 7 more miles today so I'm opting out doing it with a half gallon of dairy in my gut. Went for a cone instead.
Nothing too crazy so far today, saw 2 deer, had to walk right under a hornets nest, at one point the trail became very narrow and it was in this wierd, staghorn sumac forest, and I realized I hadn't seen a white blaze in awhile, so for a few mins I was nervous that I'd taken a wrong turn until I saw one of the German's backpacks bobbing up and down in the distance. So I was relieved. We got a nice early start, on the trail by 20 mins til 7, so we've got time to rest with 10 miles done already today.
Last night was kinda funny, I set my hammock and laid down to test it, when I looked up there was a dead tree ominously hanging right over me. So I didn't want to get smashed if it decided to fall that night, so I pivoted over to a young healthy hemlock.
Then this group of Boyscouts nearby were carrying on a little but it was pretty funny. One kid exclusively talked in this creepy, deep voice. So I'm laying there trying to sleep and this deep, dark, scary voice is growling from the woods below me with a bunch of giggles every once in awhile coming from the other scouts. Before I drifted off he shared a poem I recall, "Roses are Red, Violets are Blue. Alone on Valentines Day? Good for you."
I think I went to sleep with a smile on my face.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
July 11th
Eating right now at the Flamingo Family Restaurant in Fayettesville, PA. We hitchhiked a few miles from the trail to the Scottish Inn, an absolute dive of a motel. Luckily though we arrived under the awning moments before a downpour started. So that was fortunately the second time that happened to me. I've yet to walk in rain. As we waited under the awning, deciding whether to stay or try to hitch further into town, I looked into the distant fog and rain, and right above the pest control trucks in the parking lot I could scarcely see the outline of the ridge we just traversed. It was fun to think that I just walked across that mountain.
The rain persisted and blew in under the awning, and we decided to get a room. Because of Lola, we got a pet room, or maybe the pet room. I don't know. It's also the smoking room I think. I won't dwell on its deficiencies and possibly ruin your day with that toxic negativity. So I'll say that a hot shower was nice after 4 days without one. Food was great at the Flamingo, and we beat the rain. Now we need to plan a trip into Boiling Springs, PA, 40 miles away. It'll be nice because the trail runs right through the town. And there's pizza there.
The rain persisted and blew in under the awning, and we decided to get a room. Because of Lola, we got a pet room, or maybe the pet room. I don't know. It's also the smoking room I think. I won't dwell on its deficiencies and possibly ruin your day with that toxic negativity. So I'll say that a hot shower was nice after 4 days without one. Food was great at the Flamingo, and we beat the rain. Now we need to plan a trip into Boiling Springs, PA, 40 miles away. It'll be nice because the trail runs right through the town. And there's pizza there.
July 10th
So content right now. We stopped at Pen Mar County Park, it has great bathrooms where I cleaned up a little, did some laundry, and just got things together. Gravy, Dimples, and Animal bought some pizza but couldn't finish it, so Stanimal and I each had 2.5 pieces. Very amazing taco pizza. I also bought a Pepsi, which was awesome til I dropped it and spilled half. After that it was very fizzy, but still good.
Amazing views over Pennsylvania and Maryland, and I feel great. My feet are a little sore and I'm hoping I don't get bad blisters. I only have one small one as of now. We plan to push on to Deer Lick Shelter about 5 miles away soon. I woke up with this cute cat sleeping beside me in a fold of my hammock. She was with me throughout the night, and at times helped to keep me warm. It was beautiful to see the kitten silhouetted against the rising sun through my bug net, and the leaves fluttering, and the dew shimmering on the grass in the field. It was a very nice way to wake up.
We just ate dinner at Deer Lick Shelter, in PA! But we might go another 2 miles to Anteitam Shelter. It feels good to be in PA and have walked across a whole state but I'm not getting excited, things are going too well, and I'm afraid I might be in for it. We'll see. Supper is funny because Stanimal gives me his food sometimes, it's pretty good. For dessert he gave me a glob of some chocolatey graham cracker, pistachio conglomerate right from the bowl Lola just licked clean for him, which she was happy to do. I'm not too picky out here. I've yet to filter my water, the springs where we get water from are refreshingly clear and cool. Unless Lola gets there first. When your water is coming right out of the ground it doesn't give you a feeling you'll get sick. And it satisfies some innate, pioneer desire to feel like you're surviving by the land. It's a cool evening, and I'm ready to 2.4 more miles, albeit with slightly sore feet and knees.
Evening now at Anteitam Shelter. By far the most beautiful yet. Right in front of the shelter is a peaceful, cool stream that felt amazing on sore bare feet. Doctored a blister after setting my hammock up among towering poplar oak and hemlock, quite an idyllic spot. I chose to filter the stream water, and it has a sweet, musty taste that was very good. (My friend Michael, who tests the water quality for streams and fisheries in PA expertly guessed there was a dead muskrat 250 yards upstream. Haha.)I'm loving the simple lifestyle. Just little things like dipping feet in cool water or having a lightning bug visit you under your rain fly as you jot down your final thoughts for the day are very satisfying and beautiful. Not beautiful are the obnoxious teenagers camping downstream. Hopefully they shut up soon, but sounds like they're having fun, which is good. We flipflopped with them all day, so they should be tired after 15 miles. I am.
Goodnight
Amazing views over Pennsylvania and Maryland, and I feel great. My feet are a little sore and I'm hoping I don't get bad blisters. I only have one small one as of now. We plan to push on to Deer Lick Shelter about 5 miles away soon. I woke up with this cute cat sleeping beside me in a fold of my hammock. She was with me throughout the night, and at times helped to keep me warm. It was beautiful to see the kitten silhouetted against the rising sun through my bug net, and the leaves fluttering, and the dew shimmering on the grass in the field. It was a very nice way to wake up.
We just ate dinner at Deer Lick Shelter, in PA! But we might go another 2 miles to Anteitam Shelter. It feels good to be in PA and have walked across a whole state but I'm not getting excited, things are going too well, and I'm afraid I might be in for it. We'll see. Supper is funny because Stanimal gives me his food sometimes, it's pretty good. For dessert he gave me a glob of some chocolatey graham cracker, pistachio conglomerate right from the bowl Lola just licked clean for him, which she was happy to do. I'm not too picky out here. I've yet to filter my water, the springs where we get water from are refreshingly clear and cool. Unless Lola gets there first. When your water is coming right out of the ground it doesn't give you a feeling you'll get sick. And it satisfies some innate, pioneer desire to feel like you're surviving by the land. It's a cool evening, and I'm ready to 2.4 more miles, albeit with slightly sore feet and knees.
Evening now at Anteitam Shelter. By far the most beautiful yet. Right in front of the shelter is a peaceful, cool stream that felt amazing on sore bare feet. Doctored a blister after setting my hammock up among towering poplar oak and hemlock, quite an idyllic spot. I chose to filter the stream water, and it has a sweet, musty taste that was very good. (My friend Michael, who tests the water quality for streams and fisheries in PA expertly guessed there was a dead muskrat 250 yards upstream. Haha.)I'm loving the simple lifestyle. Just little things like dipping feet in cool water or having a lightning bug visit you under your rain fly as you jot down your final thoughts for the day are very satisfying and beautiful. Not beautiful are the obnoxious teenagers camping downstream. Hopefully they shut up soon, but sounds like they're having fun, which is good. We flipflopped with them all day, so they should be tired after 15 miles. I am.
Goodnight
July 9th
A 16 mile day after a long night, the person beside me in the shelter was riding a dirt bike I thought, or maybe just snoring. So I went outside because it stopped raining and set up my hammock, but then soon after I fell asleep it started raining again, so back in by the dirt bike. Eventually I fell asleep, but it was rough.
Adrenaline rush of the trip so far, almost stepping on a rattle snake while I was coming down a rocky ridge. Stanimal and Lola walked right by it or woke it up or something because it seemed lethargic, never even rattled. I was just about to step over it when I spotted it and screamed like a little girl and jumped into a poison ivy patch. I judged while standing in the ivy that it offered less immediate danger. After I got my bearings I of course had to poke at it with my trekking pole, fully extended. It turned slightly toward me from 5 feet away. It was only 2.5 feet long, about a 1.5 inch rattle, but that was enough to send me running away like a little girl. All in all, it was a good balance of fear and fun.
Well, we're camped now near some very nice fields, I'm in my hammock right now above an old fallen down stone wall, and more poison ivy of course. It'll be a miracle if I don't have it tomorrow. Not much of an appetite yet. Forced down some noodles and instant taters, but Lola had to finish them for me. She even licked my spork clean so I don't have to wash it, or put it in my pack dirty. Short on water right now because we left the shelter. There were some jerk section hikers there with bad energy. Even Gravy, and Animal who just came mentioned it as well.
Today's trail magic, dried papaya from a nice couple with 2 kids and some mac and cheese from a can at the shelter where we got water. Free stuff is awesome.
Adrenaline rush of the trip so far, almost stepping on a rattle snake while I was coming down a rocky ridge. Stanimal and Lola walked right by it or woke it up or something because it seemed lethargic, never even rattled. I was just about to step over it when I spotted it and screamed like a little girl and jumped into a poison ivy patch. I judged while standing in the ivy that it offered less immediate danger. After I got my bearings I of course had to poke at it with my trekking pole, fully extended. It turned slightly toward me from 5 feet away. It was only 2.5 feet long, about a 1.5 inch rattle, but that was enough to send me running away like a little girl. All in all, it was a good balance of fear and fun.
Well, we're camped now near some very nice fields, I'm in my hammock right now above an old fallen down stone wall, and more poison ivy of course. It'll be a miracle if I don't have it tomorrow. Not much of an appetite yet. Forced down some noodles and instant taters, but Lola had to finish them for me. She even licked my spork clean so I don't have to wash it, or put it in my pack dirty. Short on water right now because we left the shelter. There were some jerk section hikers there with bad energy. Even Gravy, and Animal who just came mentioned it as well.
Today's trail magic, dried papaya from a nice couple with 2 kids and some mac and cheese from a can at the shelter where we got water. Free stuff is awesome.
July 8th
July 8th, early afternoon
Well it's day one of a dream some 16 years in the making. When I was around 12 I bought a copy of Bill Bryson's, A Walk in the Woods, fascinated with the idea that a cohesive foot path winds the whole way from Georgia to Maine. I gave up on the book half-way through though because Bryson gave up on the trail half-way through. Critical of his lack of resolve I thought, "How hard can it be?" Well, I'm finally going to find out.
I'm starting my hike in the unofficial middle of the trail, Harpers Ferry, WV with plans to be North Bound (NOBO) to Maine. Then tackle the southern section, Georgia to West Virginia as a NOBO or SOBO (South Bound) we'll see which one if and when the time comes.
Presently I'm sitting in a dying down thunderstorm under a pavillion in Gathland State Park, MD. I reached this area that is rich with history after hiking 9.8 miles from Harpers Ferry, another place that's got quite a prolific past, especially with the Civil War. As always, I'll do my best to take the time to read to informational signs and plaques. I'll probably stand there with my hand on my chin nodding my head, and maybe even sprinkle in the occasional contemplative gaze into the history-soaked ether. Of course then, after buzzing through the last half of the info, I'll walk away retaining zero knowledge of what infantry circled around what knob, or how the regiment under general so-and-so came to be surrounded on the old Johnson Farm. I will appreciate the old buildings though and ogle over the stonework; and simply continue on my way knowing that something important happened here, and I'm the better for being able to see it.
...Back to the moment at hand. the storm seems to be passing, which is good, and I hear no audible successors. Steam is barreling off the parking lot, and I'm feeling good about pressing on for my day's goal. Crompton Gap shelter, only .4 miles away. I think I'll go fill my water bottles, curse the vending machine again for not taken my sweat swollen dollar bill, and be on my way.
Looking back, the day has been great. I ran into my first NOBO thru hiker. After I found that out I said I was NOBO too, and reached out my hand for a fist bump. "I don't have a trail name yet, so I guess for now it's Jordan."
"River" was the reply of my new sweaty acquaintance. We walked together at a fast pace for 4 or 5 miles, and the conversation made the hiking a breeze. River started in Georgia and is "...really into this whole positive thinking thing." which he expounded on for me. The word energy was used a lot, and I really enjoyed our time together.
It had good energy.
We went our separate ways then once we got to this park. He went to hang out and then slack pack with Crawdad, and Zig Zag.
Evening
Here I was interrupted by a man walking my way from a van. He was carrying a cooler and was wearing a plaid kilt. His name was Bluedog and I realized I was about to be blessed with my first trail magic. Water, Pepsi, and then his wife/friend? Gloria brings over some watermelon, oranges, and bananas. Not bad for a first day, I thought. We shot the breeze for a while and he explained he's doing trail magic to save up some good karma for his thru hike in the future. I was happy to be on the receiving end of his generosity, and I'll have to remember to send him some good energy his way when he hikes. Soon Stanimal, and Red Bearfield show up and partook as well. Stanimal had an old English Bulldog named Lola. I hiked with Stanimal the whole way to the shelter, 5 miles beyond what I was planning on doing. Again, it was good conversation, and fun being with Lola. At the shelter, there were already like 8 guys, and cool and laid back. I could barely eat because I wasn't hungry, but I forced down some rice. My traps were really sore, but otherwise I felt fine for my first day. 15 miles, more than I said I would. I hope I don't regret that.
Well it's day one of a dream some 16 years in the making. When I was around 12 I bought a copy of Bill Bryson's, A Walk in the Woods, fascinated with the idea that a cohesive foot path winds the whole way from Georgia to Maine. I gave up on the book half-way through though because Bryson gave up on the trail half-way through. Critical of his lack of resolve I thought, "How hard can it be?" Well, I'm finally going to find out.
I'm starting my hike in the unofficial middle of the trail, Harpers Ferry, WV with plans to be North Bound (NOBO) to Maine. Then tackle the southern section, Georgia to West Virginia as a NOBO or SOBO (South Bound) we'll see which one if and when the time comes.
Presently I'm sitting in a dying down thunderstorm under a pavillion in Gathland State Park, MD. I reached this area that is rich with history after hiking 9.8 miles from Harpers Ferry, another place that's got quite a prolific past, especially with the Civil War. As always, I'll do my best to take the time to read to informational signs and plaques. I'll probably stand there with my hand on my chin nodding my head, and maybe even sprinkle in the occasional contemplative gaze into the history-soaked ether. Of course then, after buzzing through the last half of the info, I'll walk away retaining zero knowledge of what infantry circled around what knob, or how the regiment under general so-and-so came to be surrounded on the old Johnson Farm. I will appreciate the old buildings though and ogle over the stonework; and simply continue on my way knowing that something important happened here, and I'm the better for being able to see it.
...Back to the moment at hand. the storm seems to be passing, which is good, and I hear no audible successors. Steam is barreling off the parking lot, and I'm feeling good about pressing on for my day's goal. Crompton Gap shelter, only .4 miles away. I think I'll go fill my water bottles, curse the vending machine again for not taken my sweat swollen dollar bill, and be on my way.
Looking back, the day has been great. I ran into my first NOBO thru hiker. After I found that out I said I was NOBO too, and reached out my hand for a fist bump. "I don't have a trail name yet, so I guess for now it's Jordan."
"River" was the reply of my new sweaty acquaintance. We walked together at a fast pace for 4 or 5 miles, and the conversation made the hiking a breeze. River started in Georgia and is "...really into this whole positive thinking thing." which he expounded on for me. The word energy was used a lot, and I really enjoyed our time together.
It had good energy.
We went our separate ways then once we got to this park. He went to hang out and then slack pack with Crawdad, and Zig Zag.
Evening
Here I was interrupted by a man walking my way from a van. He was carrying a cooler and was wearing a plaid kilt. His name was Bluedog and I realized I was about to be blessed with my first trail magic. Water, Pepsi, and then his wife/friend? Gloria brings over some watermelon, oranges, and bananas. Not bad for a first day, I thought. We shot the breeze for a while and he explained he's doing trail magic to save up some good karma for his thru hike in the future. I was happy to be on the receiving end of his generosity, and I'll have to remember to send him some good energy his way when he hikes. Soon Stanimal, and Red Bearfield show up and partook as well. Stanimal had an old English Bulldog named Lola. I hiked with Stanimal the whole way to the shelter, 5 miles beyond what I was planning on doing. Again, it was good conversation, and fun being with Lola. At the shelter, there were already like 8 guys, and cool and laid back. I could barely eat because I wasn't hungry, but I forced down some rice. My traps were really sore, but otherwise I felt fine for my first day. 15 miles, more than I said I would. I hope I don't regret that.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)