Category: 2018 Appalachian Trail

It was not exactly light when I was woken up by Bunny. She kept telling me some nonsense about we’d slept too late and claiming that it was already 8. Running Griz was still here and he claimed to be an early riser.  I checked my watch and, surprisingly, Bunny was telling the truth (I don’t normally believe anything she says until after she gets some coffee in her—low caffeine levels create hallucinogenic conditions in her mind).  It looked like we might get some rain later today.

 The rain started the exact moment we picked up our packs and stepped out of the shelter.  I guess we were due.  It never rained particularly hard, but it was constant and penetrating creating a dreary mood for the day.  Combined with our corporate talk of the night before, I immediately went into a dark mood.  I know this will shock people as I am normally a “glass half full” type of guy.

It was raining, so naturally I thought of visiting Disneyworld and the Land of Tomorrow. Promises have always been made to people about how great technology is going to make our lives.  How the labor savings will give us all more free time and our lives will be so convenient. In other words, corporations have always lied out their asses and we keep buying it.

Instead of more free time, Americans who are lucky enough to have jobs work more hours than ever (and effectively get paid less). The only reason we have a minimum wage is because it’s cheaper than slavery. If a company owned slaves, they would have to feed them, house them, and provide for their wellness.  Now we can just call them lazy for not making enough money to pay for their own way. 

It’s true that technology has benefited some people in our country. We have over 400 billionaires.  Thanks to technology, they can brain wash the average moron in this country into believing they want a lower tax rate for the billionaire class because when they become one (wink wink) you’re not going to want to pay a high tax rate.  It amazes me that the average American buys the BS that we have 280 million lazy people that don’t work hard instead of the fact that we have 400+ greedy f#$&ers that want to own everything.

I think you can follow my mood for the day easily enough.  This was only enhanced when we came to a busy road crossing and tried to hitch a ride into town to get out of the rain long enough to have a meal.  Pennsylvania people we meet when walking tend to be very friendly (even though the state has a very redneck feel to it most of the time—the constant sound of gunfire along the trail tends to reinforce my belief). Put a Pennsylvanian behind the wheel of a car and I think they would 99 times out of 100 run down Santa if they saw him on the side of the road.  The 100th time would be to splatter mud on him from a puddle.  

At least today, we only got the mud.  After 20 minutes of trying to get a ride, we opted to sit under trees on the trail and have the rain drip on our wraps for lunch. On the bright side, we can’t complain that our wraps were too dry to swallow.

At the next road crossing in a few miles, we came upon some possible trail magic. It turned out to be a cooler full of empty water bottles, we were too late.  Despite the rain, this section of PA tends to be short of natural flowing water sources, so this is a very nice gesture by some Pennsylvanian that had to get out of their car long enough to understand compassion.  

We were the last to arrive at Kirkridge Shelter.  Purple Haze, Earl Gray, Meatloaf, and Flip (2 brothers) were already there and spread out. One brother was lying sideways in the shelter but moved over so we could fit in. I just can’t imagine any scenario where my brother would be willing to go hiking and crap in the woods. It will definitely be an “end of times” scenario if I see this happen.

This shelter is unusual in that it has an actual filtered water spigot. I went up to get water and saw a sign that confused me: “Please private respect retreat.”  It sounded a little foreign cultish to me, but I wasn’t going to venture past the sign.  When I got back to the shelter, I checked Guthook to find out there is a private retreat behind us.  They must have meant “Please respect private retreat” but opted to go for the sign painter with head trauma approach to make people wonder.

Rain was blowing in from the east all night which, fortunately for us, was the exact orientation of the shelter.  Before we even got in bed, everything was soaked. It didn’t really matter to us because we were being picked up by a friend of mine from college tomorrow when we got to Delaware Water Gap.  I would prefer for the weather to go to Hell once we made it town and off the trail for a couple of days, but, I can be flexible.

EFG

Bert’s opened at 7 for breakfast. The seven of us ate then got a ride to the trailhead across the bridge.  Thunder Belly had picked us up on the south bank of the Lehigh River. Everyone else had already crossed the river but agreed to cross it again to save Olive’s Human from having to make two stops. 

Endlessly, we have been hearing what a monstrous climb it is out of Lehigh Gap.  As is the case with PA, this is another in a long list of exaggerations. It was a little difficult in one short section (only because we were wearing backpacks). String Cheese hung back to help Bunny out since she knew Bunny was nervous about the climb.  It was a bit of a scramble, but it was fun. If it weren’t for the direct sun, it wouldn’t have been bad at all. 

Two girls, Iggy and Maggie , and their dad, Daddy Steve, came towards us on the trail and asked us if we wanted food.  They were so cute.  The youngest was only around 4. We graciously accepted some applesauce squeezes which really hit the spot on such a hot day. 

The top of the ridge is a superfund site because of the zinc factory located in Palmerton, below. Apparently the prevailing winds carried the exhaust from the stacks up the mountain where the particulate accumulated over the decades eventually killing all of the vegetation and contaminating the water supply.  There has been a massive cleanup effort by the government (once again, the tax payers foot the bill for irresponsible corporations—the plant is still in operation). 20 or 30 years ago, this was supposed to be like walking on a lifeless moonscape. Today, the cleanup has been successful and the ridge top is lush and green once again.  

Nearing a road, Fuji and I passed a couple of guys walking in for an overnight camping trip.  After they passed, we saw a cooler in a wheelbarrow and thought “trail magic!”  We opened the cooler to find a couple cases of beer, a bottle of rum, and some wine. Bunny had fallen behind because she was on the phone with her son. I decided to drop my pack and patiently wait here with the beer until she caught up. The two guys came back and saw us rummaging through their cooler and gave us the bad news that this wasn’t trail magic after all.  The pitiful, disappointed, looks that Fuji and I gave were enough to garner us each a Rolling Rock beer. We had successfully made our own magic. 

Fuji and I headed onto the road with our beers to wait for Bunny.  It was my intention to take my last sip just as she arrived, but she wasn’t as far back as I had thought. She got a full sip of my hard earned beer. We say goodbye to Fuji here because he was staying at another hostel and we had 3.5 more miles to hike to the next shelter. 

We thought this was going to be a full shelter tonight, but most people h8ked on since the trail was so much easier than everyone had told us. The source for water here was from the depths of hell. It was a half mile downhill to the first trickling spring.  I filtered and carried 8 liters of water because I had no intention of making this trip a second time. 

The only other person in the shelter tonight was Running Griz.  His company had operated the Deep Water Horizons rig in the Gulf of Mexico. We had a long discussion about the oil industry, corporate responsibility, and CEO pay and the damage that our national economy is receiving from these greedy bastards. It was not an uplifting conversation. I went to bed in a slightly unsettled state. It’s been a while since I’ve been this close to a political conversation and my stomach couldn’t handle it. Maybe I’ll pay homage to corporations with a middle of the night privy visit. 

EFG

We took our normal hour and a half to get ready, so we got on the trail just a little past 11. Did you catch that? Last night was fabulous sleeping weather, so we slept. In bed by 7:30 up by 9:30. 14 hours of much needed sleep. Maybe it’s our age, but we can’t seem to get enough rest these days. As long as Bunny fakes sleep when I get up to pee, I will honor her request to go back to sleep. 

Several people made noise as they passed our camp starting around 6a. We have heard of Purple Haze and Earl Gray, but haven’t met them.  As we started hiking from our camp, we met another couple close to us in age.  Earl hiked the trail in 2011 and is doing it for the second time, this year, with his wife. They are from New Hampshire—in essence, they are hiking home.  

Up ahead we could see a tent and tables in the parking lot.  My first inclination was to be jealous of Harvey until I remembered it was almost 11:30. Surely, Harvey had to be one of the ones who passed our camp closer to 6. If he was still near us, he wouldn’t be able to get his 50 miles in today.  Surely, this must be Trail Magic.  Mountain Goat and Chopper, two brothers, hiked the trail in 2016 and were out with their wives paying back for their second year in a row.

This was the real deal.  Cheeseburgers, hot dogs, chips, sodas, candy, fruit, ibuprofen, drying lines, lawn chairs.  They told me of one hiker who ate 8 cheeseburgers last year so I didn’t have to feel guilty about my 3 burgers, 1 hot dog, 2 cokes, 2 bags of chips, a Snickers, a banana, and some grapes.  I was a bit hungry from breakfast since Bunny gobbled down the protein bar we were supposed to share. 

We spent over an hour chatting with Mountain Goat, Chopper, and their wives (I’m sorry, I forgot to write down names). There were lots of other hikers around including String Cheese, Broken Seal, Stump, Murph, Purple Haze, and Earl Gray. If Bunny hadn’t insisted we move on, I was eyeing a 4th cheeseburger. It was probably the right thing to do since I had to let my pack belt out a few inches. 

They had warned us that 50 of the next 60 miles between the parking lot where they had set up and about 10 miles into NJ would provide the PA experience we have been hearing about and worrying about. The climb up to Bake Oven Knob delivered on that promise. There were a half dozen locals sitting around on the Knob soaking in the view. We got to align with them and discovered one of them had hiked from Pearisburg to Delaware Water Gap.  The rest had no desire to hike any further than back to the parking lot where the cars were waiting. Something else I’ve noticed in PA; there is a lot of graffiti sprayed on rocks at lookouts. This spot had some of the most we have run across. 

Coming down from the Knob, we met a man slightly older than us. Tioga just retired and is doing an unusual flip flop to get the trail in this year. He’s headed to Harpers Ferry from CT. Once there, he will take a week off to go to,a NOAC before heading to Katahdin.  Tioga was an Eagle Scout as a boy and has 4 Eagle Scouts for sons. He is nearing the 50 years in scouting mark.  

At Bake Oven Knob Shelter, we ran into Deluxe whom we haven’t seen for several days.  It appears he has a stress fracture and getting off the trail for a while to allow it to heal. He was talking to a day hiker.  I tried my hand at Yogiing a ride.  He stopped me right away and said I didn’t have to Yogi, he would give us a ride. We walked out with Thunder Belly who turned off the trail to go get his car and told us where to meet him. 

We had tried to get a bed reserved at the local hotel, but it was full. We’d also tried Bert’s Hostel, but got no answer. Thunder Belly dropped us at Bert’s and then we knew why we didn’t get an answer—it was closed. He offered to wait, but we said we’d be ok.  We went around back and started knocking on doors. One neighbor gave us directions to the hostel where we found Fuji, String Cheese, and Broken Seal already settled in. 

After supper at the Chinese restaurant, we got diverted to an ice cream shop in the opposite direction when Bunny saw people eating cones. She chose the largest member of the group to tackle to find out the location of the shop. While they were struggling on the ground, I asked his wife for the address. When Bunny heard I had the address, she let him up and gave him the remaining portion of his ice cream. We got in the shop just ahead of Purple Haze and Earl Gray just as the doors were being locked.  Living up to my name, I was skipped when everyone else was getting served. I was almost forgotten for ice cream.

EFG

It did rain like hell and it was glorious being inside. Since we were able to get in more than 15 miles yesterday with such a late start, we didn’t feel terribly rushed getting going today since were only planning around 13 for today. Lazee, the caretaker, invited Bunny to sit on the porch when he saw her trying to take pictures of hummingbirds. 

Climbing out from Eckville Shelter we ran across a local man, Andy, and his two dogs. Andy is retiring next year and he would like to hike the AT in 2 LASHes (2 Long Ass Section Hikes). When Andy meets thru-hikers, he asks questions of them to help him prepare for the hike. In return, we had a few questions for him—mainly, how does he keep his dogs from going after snakes? Answer, he doesn’t know how they will do so when we hear of snakes ahead, they turn back. 

At least two different groups of hikers told us they had personally seen two rattlesnakes in the trail ahead. The second couple of guys (Massholes, I’m sure) were drying their tents in the sun on the rocks. They had tried on the next set of rocks ahead, but the two snakes started rattling as soon as they set their packs down. The rocks are only 50 yards ahead. I was excited, Bunny was apprehensive—together, we were disappointed and relieved when we couldn’t find them. 

Water is a bit scarce along the ridge in PA. We knew this, so we check for water sources every morning before setting out and will carry more if we need to.  Today, we had a “reliable” water source available at the shelter ahead where we were planning to stop for lunch. By the time we got to the shelter, I was out and Bunny was very low.  The source for water was either a quarter mile side trip, or just 0.3 miles along the trail (same source). Rather than walk an extra half mile, we decided to hike forward. I dropped my pack at the other end of the trail and headed to the spring. It was disgusting and not flowing. I was pissed. 

It was only another few miles to the Blue Mountain Summit B&B so we started hoofing it. I saw a man sitting in the trail at a table. I slowed down hoping it might be trail magic. Instead of magic, it was Harvey Lewis’ dad waiting for him to pass. Harvey has been on the trail for 24 days today in his quest to set a new speed record on the AT. I have mixed feelings about Harvey because I’m worried about how he will finish on Katahdin. I was very forceful about no celebrating on the mountain. I was thirsty, hot, and out of water so I might have been curt (instead of Curtis).  If they had offered me water, I might have calmed down.

It was still 2 miles to Blue Mountain Summit B & B.  Hiking nearer to the restaurant, we could hear live music ahead. The last thing we wanted was to be in a crowd so we headed inside for a table away from the noise (are we getting old if we consider live music to be noise?). Jackpot—we were the only people inside. We gorged ourselves in the cool quiet of the inside. The owner wasn’t real happy that we were alone but we could only overeat so much. I drank 6 glasses of iced tea, and no beer—more disappointment for the owner. 

We considered staying at the B & B until we realized it no longer had rooms. That meant we had another 2 1/2 miles to go before we could set up camp. It was a dry camp, so we each carried extra water so we would have enough for breakfast. We were in a race with the clouds to make it to our spot before the rain started. No sooner did we roll into camp than so did the rain.  We set up the tent quickly and Bunny crawled in. She stayed dry while I got soaked. It was only 7 when we were all set up and ready for bed. 

EFG

Port Clinton is a welcoming trail town even though there’s not a lot here. We walked to breakfast at the only diner in town. We ran into several other hikers we knew and met a few more along the way. After breakfast we split up to take care of town chores to speed things up. Bunny went back to our room while I went to the barbershop. My hair is getting quite long, I can now wake up with “bed head” and this must stop. 

Frank is the barber and a bit of a trail legend. If a hiker needs anything, word is head to the barbershop and Frank will help you out. As soon as I walked in, Frank directed me to the coffee pot and donuts.  He offers charging stations for hiker use and will solicit his customers to help out if needed for rides.  After Frank’s dad gave me a new, shiny dome, I asked Frank if he could help me get a ride to Walmart for some food.  Fred, who was just finishing up getting his hair cut, offered me a ride to Walmart.  

Fred told me the story of Hermy and Frank (Frank had apologized to me when I said we had stayed at Union House last night).  Frank’s shop used to be in the lower level of the boarding house which is right next to the trail. He was always a big advocate for hikers; he claimed Hermy wasn’t. Hermy tripled the rent on Frank and that created the bad blood between them that still exists. All I know is that they were both very friendly and accommodating to us. 

Just as we got all of our town chores done and were ready to leave shortly after 11, it started to rain. We donned our umbrellas and began our walk. We were a little apprehensive about what to expect from the trail ahead because we have heard nothing but horror stories concerning the rocks of Pennsylvania. Another mother and daughter sobo hiking duo told us about the trail ahead. They claimed that they have not had any smooth trail since they started at Delaware Water Gap. Once again, this proved to be total BS. 

Bunny was nice enough to point out that the backs of my legs are hairless. This didn’t really concern me because I don’t ever recall having had cold calves. Truth of the matter is that the only place I have ample hair is in nose and ears. There may be a few other places on my body, as well, but even I know the limits of TMI. 

Climbing to Pulpit Rock, we passed 2 different Boy Scout troops out training for trips to Philmont.  Both of them told us that Philmont had a 36,000 acre forest fire this year and they had to cancel a large number of itineraries this year. No troops are allowed until July 15 so they just got notification that they were still going but have no idea where they will be hiking in the ranch. 

After going over Pulpit Rock, we could hear a large number of people in the pods ahead. A church group was looking for a trail to return back to the reservoir to complete a hiking loop back at the base of the trail. We tried to help them out, but Guthook doesn’t include side trails around the AT. For our efforts, they offered to pray for us.  I never turn down a prayer from any denomination, I might get lucky and get the only religion that actually is THE right one. 

Arriving at Eckville Shelter, we found only 1 person inside and only 1 outside. We were afraid that with our late start today, we would find a full shelter and have to camp. I hope it rains like hell since we have gotten spots inside. 

EFG

The news of today is it’s someone’s birthday.  Get on the way way way way back machine to 1932—yes, it’s my dad’s (Haldonican’s) 86th birthday.  That is: 1,032 months, or 31,411 days or 753,864 hours, or 45,231,840 minutes. Yes, Hal has reached middle age. Happy Birthday, Dad.  I love you, Dad. 

The rest of the day was pretty much downhill from there.  Literally, downhill.  We had an easy walk along the ridge before dropping 1200’ into Port Clinton.  We did manage to run into a few rocks along the way.  Still, nothing like everyone has been trying to scare us with.  

We had another family breakup today. Just as a group starts to gel, EFG opens his mouth. Hard Hat, Nightengale, and Slip ‘n Slide decided to go 10 miles back to get away from us. They took off right after breakfast to head back to the 501 Shelter to allow us a day’s head start to get ahead of them. 

Bunny and I headed north from the highway where we stopped on Wednesday.  Jodie drove us up and dropped us off at 9. Before she took us up, she showed us some more things around their place. Jodie and Craig do an outstanding job serving the hikers, keeping everything spic and span (Bunny loves a clean establishment; some women love their husbands), and continually making improvements around the place. 

We only saw three sobo section hikers today and had three nobo thru-hikers pass us. We are definitely in the lull between the April speedsters and the main April bubble. With any luck, we’ll stay ahead of the big bubble for another couple of weeks. 

Two of the sobo section hikers tried to scare us with how terrible the trail ahead was going to be. It was a mother/daughter duo who are LASHers (Long Ass Section Hikers). They don’t have their trail legs yet. They had taken 2 days to get from Port Clinton to where we met them. The mom was really overplaying the rock theme for us. We did encounter a few rocky sections, but not that bad yet.  The mom and Guthook made the drop into Port Clinton sound and look like we were going to need ropes to repel in. Of course, Bunny bought it all; hook, line, and sinker. 

The trail may have been a little steeper than normal dropping into town, but no where near the worst we have seen. At the bottom of the hill I felt like we were walking on a Monopoly Board. We got to hike along the Reading Railroad (usually one of my first purchases in the game).  We did pass go, but no money was handed out to us.  I guess we need a new banker.

Maybe we got some money now that I think of it.  I called Big Agnes at lunch time to find out why they were going to charge me full price for our replacement pads. Turns out, they aren’t charging us anything at all. They have been the best at customer service every time I call. When I call and say our pads are loosing air, they don’t try to tell me I’m using them wrong, etc.  Instead, they do something radical.  They apologize without question and say up front they will fix the problem to my satisfaction.  This takes all anxiety and anger out of the situation. Even though we got some bad pads, Big Agnes has made us lifelong customers through the way they deal with problems. 

I’ve read reviews of the free hiker pavilion in town and decided I’d rather stay someplace more comfy for the night. We found the post office and right across the street is a Bed & Breakfast. Two guys were out front having a beer. I walked up thinking they were a couple of locals when a woman walked out to give us info.  The guys invited us to sit and have a beer, which we did.

The older guy is almost 81. We talked quite a while. It turns out that he was actually the owner of the B&B and the cook. We got a room and ordered our food. Hermy and Kathy took excellent care of us. They have dealt with hikers before and gave us much more food than we could imagine. I was craving a steak and I got the biggest porterhouse I’ve ever had. I don’t know why Union House Bed & Breakfast wasn’t mentioned in Guthook, but it has my endorsement (or will have when I revive from my food coma). 

We are the only guests here tonight in the meticulously restored boarding house. There are only 5 rooms with each room named for a former owner of the house.  Each room has an antique clock and wood burning stove. I’d love to come back in the winter. 

EFG

Today is “Hike Naked Day.”  In the interest of humanity, we decided to take a zero rather than being the cause of people poking their own eyes out. It’s a public service that I can do to help humanity—keep my clothes on.  

We did hear from Chad the Dad.  He’s had cellulitis in one of his legs and had to take a couple days off to allow his antibiotics to get going. Like a true American, he’s impatient to get going again and won’t slow down once he does start back up.  Slow down and eat the roses, Chad. 

This was a true rest day for us with only one item on the agenda…tour the Yuengling Brewery in Pottsville, PA.  We went with Hard Hat (who is undergoing a name change to Marky Mark), Nightengale, and Slip ‘n Slide. Yuengling is the oldest brewery in America because it was able to survive the dark days of prohibition (damn noses temperance wenches) by having a beer designated as a medicine for pregnant women and opening an ice cream shop. Since the brewery was built 1’ from an Irish Catholic Church, I’m sure there was also some divine help (and hidden passages for the priests).

The tour started out in underground caves which were dug by hand to store the beer while the brewery was being built above in 1829. We learned a little more of the history, but I forgot it all in the tasting room. The tour and tasting were free and worth way more than it cost.

No good off day goes unpunished—we were forced to go shopping in the gift shop after Bunny got my wallet loosened up with a few beers. I was able to refrain from purchasing a growler knowing that it would be difficult to get refills on the trail.

The tour and tasting were followed by a short walk through Pottersville to Roma Pizza for lunch and a couple pitchers of Chettie. If it weren’t for Yuengling, Pottsville would be less impressive than Duncannon. With Yuengling, it’s only moderately more so.  As has happened with most manufacturing jobs in our country, they have gone overseas leaving vacant factories and unemployed workers behind. 

After a precarious drive back to the hostel, we managed to drag a few chairs from the lounge into the creek to chill our aching feet.  Maple Leaf and her dog, Yankee joined us for some foot therapy. 

The day was topped off with another fabulous dinner prepared by Jodie at Rock ‘n Sole. There were three additional men joining us for dinner tonight, so the testosterone levels are starting to return to normal. 

We did get laundry, showers, and a small resupply done along the way. We haven’t actually packed up yet, but there’s not a big hurry for tomorrow. It’s only 14.5 miles to Port Clinton so we’ll be able to get everything done in the morning and still get in at a decent time. We’ve only got 986 miles to go and this trail will be in the bag. The trail is practically walking itself these days. 

EFG

It was sweet to have a shelter to ourselves. We celebrated by taking our clothes off and going to bed early. We set our alarm for 6 since no one else was around.  I even tried to get Bunny to turn the sound on, but she wouldn’t let go that much. We were on the trail by 7:30.

We ran across a Sobo trail runner not too long after we started. In a weird twist of events, Bunny and I were walking and talking with each other and didn’t hear when the stealth runner came back up behind us. We actually ran him off of the trail because we didn’t know he was there. Larry asked us if we wanted some granola bars knowing that a hiker never turns down food.  He said he’d meet us at the parking lot in 5 minutes. 

Larry walked with us for a while and told us about another trail runner, Harvey Lewis who is trying to set a new assisted speed record. Let me start off by saying I have no problem sharing the trail with runners. I have a problem with all the attention they get from the press over setting records. I have a bigger problem when they are assholes that violate the rules of the trail and celebrate on Katahdin and put the northern terminus in jeopardy for who the trail was meant for—hikers.

We could go a hell of a lot faster if we skipped every overlook and side trail; had someone meeting us at every road crossing to give us food and water; had a van with a bed picking us up every night so we didn’t have to set up camp, filter water, or cook food; didn’t have to carry a pack with everything we need to go the distance; and had a trail assistant to wipe our asses every time we crap.  We are HIKING the trail, not passing it in a blur. The ATC needs to disavow these trail runners because they are creating problems for all the hikers who spend months using the trail for what it was intended to be—a conduit to get in touch with nature. If you want to run 2200 miles, use the roads and get out of the woods; they’re not interested in the nature experience at all.

When I heard Harvey was running the trail, I immediately thought of my father-in-law’s brother, Harvey who has just lost his wife. I admired him for taking up trail running at 85. This is beyond admirable and inspirational. But then I found out it was some other potential jerk and I got a bit irritated. Our Harvey would not be a jerk, would be respectful, and wouldn’t run hikers off the trail. I hope the Harvey running the trail will be the same, but I don’t have faith in people out for glory instead of love of the trail. 

We came upon Fisher overlook, one of several overlooks today, but special because of Alice, Paul, and Marsha. We have Paul encounters almost daily when there are unexplained farts in the night (and Bunny won’t claim them).  Paul and Marsha are Alice’s deceased brother and sister that we have dedicated our hike to.  They have been with us since the NOC in NC, but they stuck around on the ridge at their overlook for a while this morning. 

Not very far after Fisher Overlook, we ran into more trail angels. Lone Eagle and his grandson, JJ, were rolling rocks from above the hill down to the trail.  I asked them if they were the ones responsible for all the rocks in the trail.  After a few minutes of quick thinking, they came up with a semi-plausible excuse that they were rolling the rocks down to the trail to build a retaining wall for a section that was getting washed out. We thanked them for all they do for the trail, but also said we’ll be watching to make sure no rocks stay on the trail after their work is done. I am bound and determined to find out where these rocks are coming from. 

We stopped at the 501 Shelter and finally got a chipmunk picture. This is a spacious, enclosed shelter for 12 hikers. There are chipmunks everywhere and not at all afraid of people. Snow Angel told us she stopped there ahead of us and found two of them locked in a trash can. She took the can outside and set them free. She also got her first chipmunk photo as a reward. 

Today was another milestone for us. We passed the 1200 mile mark of the trail.  For the first time since we started, we have less than 1000 to go…only 990 more trail miles to the summit of Katahdin. Right after this point in the trail, we came to a campground which we knew had a swimming hole and rope swing below it. How did we know? Chad the Dad sent us a video of him swinging off the rope last week.  I checked the swing out; the rope is strong, but if you release too early or too late, you could end up landing on rocks in less than 4’ of water.  I think Shay needs to return to the trail to keep an eye on her dad. 

We had a quick 3.7 mile section of trail, all downhill to the road crossing where we will call a shuttle to Rock ‘n Sole.  As soon as we got to the road, a pickup pulled up to take another hiker to the hostel. Not only did we not have to call, we had no waiting.  The minute we threw our packs in the truck and climbed in, the rain started. We had arrived with perfect timing. 

Trashy is the name of our trailer which we will spend the next two nights in.  We got our showers and headed to the lounge to unwind a bit before supper. The lounge is a stream running through the property where we can set lawn chairs in the middle. It’s ideal for soaking our feet after a hard day of hiking. 

We had dinner with Snow Angel, Nightengale, and Slip n Slide on the porch. I thought this was a man’s world on the AT but here I was with 4 sassy women. I could barely get a word in all night. I’m outnumbered and have been hanged up on by this group of hellions. Woe is me. The beer gods took pity on me and secreted two beers in our fridge. At least SOMEONE has remembered me. 

EFG

We had gentle thunderstorms most of the night. I find this to be the most relaxing sound to sleep to (even ahead of mountain streams and box fans). That is, unless you are married to a woman who is irrationally afraid of storms that screams at every lightening flash. Nutiket, my 5th Great Pyrenees, was not afraid of storms until Bunny and I moved in together. It didn’t take her long to pick up Bunny’s fears and start locking herself in the closet during thunderstorms. If I came home and a storm was raging, I knew where to look first to find the two of them. 

I woke up at 6 to pee for the first time. Did anyone catch that.  I slept all night without getting up to pee. That’s how dehydrated I was from the heat yesterday. Also, I felt like crap at 6 so I tried not to wake Bunny up because I had no desire to get up without a full recovery. If only I didn’t have to blow my sleeping pad back up (but I’ve only got one more night of a leaking pad but probably 45 more years with this bladder/prostate combo).  Bunny feigned sleeping because she didn’t want up this early either. 

By the time we got up at 8, the family with 30 kids across the stream had already gotten up and silently left. I was amazed that they could silently break camp when so many people in a shelter feel the need to wake everyone else up. Only Devin was still in camp with us. We met him and his aunt in Harpers Ferry after they had hiked a 45 mile section.  She went home, but he decided to keep hiking and is going to do the entire trail. Since we were camped near a shelter, we decided to check out the facilities before hitting the trail. 

After just a little distance on the trail, we came to an informative set of signs about the Rausch Creek and the village of Rausch Gap. The unproductive mining community finally disappeared when the railroads and more productive mines came into being. Rausch Creek, where we camped, is highly acidic (pH of 4) so no aquatic life can survive. (Coincidentally, it would have been nice to tell us this BEFORE we drank the water). A couple of passive pulverizing wells were installed that break the natural limestone down and lower the acidity of the creek bringing the pH up to 6. Trout thrive below where we camped thanks to these wells. 

Not too much further, we came to a flooded section of trail. Initially, I thought this was a result of the storms last night, but upon closer inspection, we saw a massive beaver dam running beside the trail. Damn beavers. I have a personal history with beavers. When I had my farm, I had 3 ponds on it. I had a beaver come in and build a lodge on the largest pond. I thought it was kind of cool until the little bastard decided my pond needed to be deeper. He kept blocking my overflow to raise the pond level flooding out part of my dam. I’d get out my tractor and knock it down only to have him build it bigger and taller. After repeating this battle 3-4 times, I decided to hire a hit on him. Bottom line, I’m not as much of a beaver fan (the little rodent type) that I used to be. 

Bunny’s feet got soaked trying to navigate the flooded trail. I managed to make it across without drenching my feet. When we were getting near the end, I screamed “How much further does this sh$& go?”  I heard a voice say “You’re almost through.”  Nightengale was sitting down putting on her boots. She had decided to not risk it and put on her camp shoes to navigate the trail. We hadn’t even thought of that as a possibility. 

I hadn’t loaded up on water when we left the shelter this morning because we had a lot of water crossings early on. After we made our second road crossing of the day, there was supposed to be a spring in less than a half mile for us to camel up on.  We walked further than I expected without seeing the spring.  I stopped Bunny to check Guthook for the location and saw that we were over a quarter mile past.  It was 8 miles to the next water source, I was already dying of thirst and out of water—in short, I started having a panic attack.  I hate to retrace my steps on the trail, but we had no choice. 

After we got water and had some lunch to calm me down (I know it’s hard for people to fathom that I got agitated when I’m usual calm like the Amish), we started hiking again.  Pennsylvania has a reputation of being a rocky state.  People call it Rocksylvania.  People are asses.  We’ve gone over halfway through the state and we haven’t seen rocks like this since GA, NC, TN, VA, and WV.  Yes, you have to watch your feet or you’ll fall.  We are hiking on a trail, not a paved path.  PA doesn’t deserve to be called a rocky state anymore than VA deserves to be called a level state.  It’s all hype.  I’m sure we’ll have some rough spots ahead, but unless it’s all boulder fields to NJ, I don’t want to hear Rocksylvania again.

Plans change.  We started out planning to hike 18 miles today.  Around lunch time, the heat was catching up with us so we dialed it back a couple of miles to the 501 Shelter.  An hour later, we were feeling like crap and decided that was still too far.  We dialed back another 3 miles and settled on the William Penn Shelter. We felt very comfortable with staying at his shelter since we had our pictures taken with his statue in Bristol, England last year.

The guidebooks say to expect a crowd at the William Penn Shelter because it’s popular with locals as well as hikers. When we got there, it was empty except for two guys cooking on the picnic table out front, and they were both planning on camping out. For the third time this trip, we had the shelter to ourselves and I didn’t even have to introduce myself to clear it out.

We are still trying to use up all of our food before our next resupply and we are getting close to being successful. We have been at mission critical stage for a couple of days now (mission critical=no M&M/Mars products on hand).  Tonight, we had peanut butter and fudge for dessert; no tortillas.  If we don’t make town tomorrow, we will be eating mayo and Taco Bell salsa for our last supper.

EFG

I can confirm that the spider communication network is functioning and well. It would appear that the bridge spiders I was messing with when we crossed the Susquehanna River sent word ahead that I needed to be taught a lesson but not hurt. They at least recognized that I didn’t hurt or kill any of them so they held back their brown recluse and black widows cousins…this time. I woke up several times throughout the night with spiders crawling on me. They made sure to let me see them as a warning. 

One of the guys had warned us that he was going to get up at 5:30 and apologized in advance for making noise while getting ready. What he didn’t tell us was that he was going to set his alarm clock and not put it on vibrate. Oh, and that he would snooze 4 times before getting up. It ended up that we got up a little before 7 when he finally left. We were hiking by 8:15. 

Today was a lot of ridge walking.  The ridges in PA are not what I had pictured in my head. I thought we were going to be walking over all this exposed rock with very little foliage to protect us. What we are really walking on is a tree covered ridge about 1000’ higher than the valley floors with very limited views of the valleys because of the dense tree cover. The rocks of PA have yet to appear in the diabolical form we have repeatedly been warned of.  Like most of the trail has been so far, you must watch your feet a good portion of the time to prevent tripping. 

Even with watching the trail, nearly constantly, I manage to miss things along the way. Unfortunately, Bunny is right behind me and she ALWAYS manages to spot the snakes I miss. It’s like she has built in snakedar. Today, it was an allegedly huge black snake. She told me about the snake as we approached Kinder View. There were two guys sitting there and they received a text from one of their friends ahead that there was a rattlesnake in the trail just a little ahead of us.  Rattlesnake ahead, black snake behind—we’re surrounded. Time for a little Stevie Ray Vaughn…🎶 I’m stranded, caught in the crossfire 🎶

We had been warned that we today was going to be hot, Africa hot. We were tired and weak from the heat. We had been told of a creek at a road crossing that had some good camping upstream from the road.  We considered stopping there after just 7 miles of hiking, but we saw Nightengale and Slip ‘n Slide there getting ready to head out. Making It and Rex were there soaking their feet.  We decided to settle for a lunch break and a possible dip in the stream to cool off.

I eventually built of the nerve to completely submerge myself in the stream, but it was cold.  The boys were protesting, so much so, that I came up a soprano for a while. We were talking with Making It and Rex and we all agreed that we were surprised by how redneck Pennsylvania is. It’s the Texas of the north.  

After lunch I called Big Agnes to get our sleeping pads replaced. We had bought new sleeping pads in Franklin, TN but froze our asses off sleeping on them in the Smokies (this accounts for about 50% of our weight loss on the trail; it’s pretty amazing how much weight is in the average ass). We exchanged them after the Smokies for “better” pads.  The new pads have all had microleaks. Not just for us, but for everyone out here who has bought them. They’ve got a problem and I’m tired of inflating my pad each time I get up to pee. They agreed to refund us the amount and send us our old pads back to a hostel we plan to stay at Wednesday night. 

We caught up with Hard Hat, Slip n Slide, and Nightengale at Yellow Springs.  This is the site of an abandoned mining town.  It was already past 5 but we needed to make another 4 miles today if we are going to make Rock ‘n Sole hostel Wednesday, so we gallantly pushed on.

The mosquitos were terrible. This is when I made a discovery about flying insects on the trail. The little bastards are lying in wait for any passing food source, be it bear, deer, or hiker. The lead of any train draws the brunt of the pests. This is how I came up with the term “mosquito bait” and why I allowed Bunny to lead.  The trick is not drifting too far back that the little bastards can detect a gap but staying close enough to not trip the lead hiker. It helps a lot to keep saying “I love you” while hiking second in line (not recommended for two testosterone filled 20 something males that have just met and started hiking together).

We are trying to use up all of the food we are carrying with us. This is how we developed a new dessert tonight. Back in Shenandoah, a girl gave us a package of vanilla icing because Bunny thought it looked good. We also had some extra fudge packages that our angel, Alice, had sent. I decided to try tortillas with icing and fudge as a treat. I think we would have had less of an insulin response it we had just eaten packets of sugar.  

EFG