Down The Trail

Pennsylvania____The Appalachian Trail____Connecticut / Massachusetts

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Monday, August 06, 2001
Delaware Water Gap, PA-Mohican Outdoor Center
Today’s Miles: 10.5
Trip Miles: 1275.3

I’m out of Pennsylvania at last, and northbound, onward to Katahdin. The trail crossed the Delaware River on an I-80 bridge, and I could feel the cement literally wobble and sway beneath my feet as the heavier trucks whizzed by. Not an altogether comforting feeling. It was an extremely hot and humid day, but day hikers were out in force in Jersey.

The climb up from the river was surprisingly gradual and not bad at all. New Jersey has some beautiful mountains and country out here, despite its reputation. After lolly-gaggling around the picturesque, glacial Sunfish Pond all afternoon, I made it to this campground area and called it quits for the day. So did Tekman, Skipper, Freebird, and Cyborg. Grasshopper and Spongebob moved on for some night hiking.

While I was peacefully munching on my bagels for dinner, I heard something rummage around in the brush not far from me. It sounded like a bear – the sounds of the branches and twigs it broke gave it away. I didn’t want to leave my food unguarded, so I stayed put and Tekman went to check it out. He came back quite hurriedly with an excited look in his eye.

“BIG bear,” he said. “BIG.”

I took his word for it.

It sauntered away, I guess, and hasn’t returned… yet. You see, bears aren’t hunted here in Jersey, so they don’t have much fear of humans. Isn’t that just lovely? By the way, the mosquitoes have no fear of me either, even though I hunt and kill them with an unprecedented, devoted passion. Go figure.

Sunfish Pond

Tuesday, August 07, 2001
Mohican Outdoor Center-Gren Anderson Shelter
Today’s Miles: 21
Trip Miles: 1296.3

I woke up right around dawn, and heard Skipper breaking down his tent not far from me. I rolled over.
A few hours later, I woke up for real, and didn’t get going until around ten. Skipper was still hanging around with Cyborg when I started hiking! I admire him for such a relaxed nature. A number of hikers treat the trail as if it’s their job – during daylight hours they must be eating, drinking, getting water, packing up or setting up, and mainly, hiking. Anything else is regarded as a precious waste of time. Go Skipper.

There was a small bulletin at this center with everything you need to know and more about timber rattlesnakes, so naturally I was looking out for them all morning. I want to see one! From a safe distance, of course… but I’d even like to hear one rattle at me – just to know what it’s like and to feel the adrenaline rush of going from dazed-out-plodding-along-in-the-middle-of-the-woods one second, to Holy @#$%^&*! the next. It seems all the hikers have seen a rattlesnake but me. I don’t know whether that’s fortunate or unfortunate.

I passed a stinky smelling pond and a firetower. It was a hot, hazy day so I didn’t expect the views from the tower to be anything special. Ronin was having lunch at the base of it.

“How’s the view?” I asked him.

“I don’t know… didn’t go up,” he said, “There’s two lovebugs up there.”

Sure enough, I could hear a young couple giggling near the top. I continued up the trail, passing “rattlesnake” spring, and making the somewhat considerable ascent up “Rattlesnake” mountain. There weren’t any snakes on the summit, but it was a spectacular rocky bald of sorts, offering a true pointed mountaintop feeling. The wind began to get pretty strong and steady, which I usually enjoy as it invigorates me. As I let it blow the sweat and heat off me, I noticed some dark clouds moving in. It looked and felt like a storm.

As the evening progressed, the sky grew darker and the wind blew more fiercly. I decided to hike to Culver’s Gap and hole up in a motel room for the night. It was dusk by the time I made it to the road, and I called the motel listed in the guidebook that picks up hikers staying the night right from the trail crossing for convenience and to avoid thumbing my way down.

“Yes,” the lady said, “We would pick you up, but we’re booked for tonight.”

Great. Thanks.

The wind howled.

So now what was I to do? The next shelter was three more miles, and I didn’t want to night hike in this impending storm… or I guess I could wait it out under the roof of the pumps of the gas station here? Or possibly just find a stealth spot quick and set up my tent?

And just then, JUST as I turned away from the pay phone pondering my choice of action, a car eased up to me from the pumps and flashed its headlights.

“Hey, how’s it goin’?” the driver said, “You need a ride anywhere?”

I suppose this is what they call trail magic.

I explained my situation, and the driver said he knew of a few other motels nearby that might have a room for me. Ah, excellent. His name was Gates – a local dentist in the area. He hiked from Springer Mountain to here at Culver’s Gap in the 1970’s, where he got off the trail. He was young like me when he did it. He told me he still dreams of one day coming back and finishing up from here to Katahdin one day, that he still has his hiking stick in his office, and such things later. Just as we got on the road, the rain started pouring down something awful.

We got to the motel. No vacancy. There was one more he knew of. No vacancy. I asked if I could tent on the lawn. “We don’t do that.” the lady at the front desk said. Damn. I could see not only flashes of lightning, but actual bolts strike the mountaintops. This was one hell of a storm. The lady referred me to one other motel in the area. Gates took me there, no problem. Closed on Tuesdays. Today was Tuesday.

So after all that, this kind guy ended up taking me back to the trailhead well after dark. I thanked him graciously for his help and effort. Stepping out of the car, I couldn’t help but think “what a waste of time and effort,” but instantly realized that it wasn’t raining anymore. “Yes, I think the storm is over. I doubt there’s more coming, either. And I’m dry.” The ride wasn’t in vain after all, and actually, quite far from it.

Then I saw Q-Tip there at the gas station, soaked to the bone and looking completely frazzled. I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for my dry-ness. He was at the phone. I informed him all the motels were booked. A sunken look came over his face. He told me he lost his glasses somewhere back on the trail – he took them off as the rain blinded him and hooked them onto his sternum strap. They must have fallen off somewhere. Poor guy. I helped him scour the area. No glasses. I asked if he wanted to go back south down the trail and look. No. He’s nearsighted too, so I offered him my spare pair of glasses – they’d be better than nothing. He didn’t want them.

I left him at the phone, as he said it’d be cool, and I embarked on the three mile night hike to the next shelter. The area had needed rain very bad, and even in the dark, I could sense that renewed feeling in the woods. All the plants and trees seemed to be happy and clean after being washed off, brushing up against me and finally getting me a bit wet. Steam was rising from everything, as steam rises from hot asphalt on city streets during a summer rain. Everything felt fresh, and I looked down on twinkling city lights suddenly silent and far off again. The stars even came out as the clouds glided away. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

After unfortunately waking up practically everybody at the shelter in search of the bear box, I set up my tent a bit away from it and am going right to bed at about midnight.

Skipper relaxing

Wednesday, August 08, 2001
Gren Anderson Shelter-High Point
Today’s Miles: 11.3
Trip Miles: 1307.6

I ventured forth from my tent, finding the shelter area deserted. Everyone was up and gone, and it seems even more hikers moved through in the morning, including Q-Tip. Apparently nobody spotted and picked up his glasses yet. Some guy named Desperado hiked in some goodies and sodas. Sweet! Yahtzee and Beer Styk rolled in. They knew where Skipper and Freebird stayed last night. Nice. After I lounged around with them a bit, I finally packed up my tent and was ready to hike. It was about noon. First, though, I had to use the privy, and this was not just any ordinary privy. There were no walls! Just an open air, bare all, do your business in front of the world type throne. I enjoyed my time on that privy, as nobody was around. King of the jungle! Haha. One female hiker wrote in the register “Shitting is NOT a spectator sport!!!”

I found that quite amusing.

I caught Yahtzee, Beer Styk, and Freebird again on top of Sunrise Mountain. We exchanged pleasantries while indulging in snacks, they moved on, and I eventually followed. I was walking about a mile south of Mashipacong Shelter, and I saw a bear and two cubs! The mama was a big one, too, and they didn’t see me. After a few moments of observation, I made some noise to announce my presence, and one of the cubs heard me and took off. The other cub and mom soon followed. Cool. That brings my grand total of bears to seven, I believe.

The water pump at the shelter was removed because of the high mineral content, creating a potentially dire situation, but trail maintainers left plastic gallon jugs of water at a nearby road for hikers. Desperado also apparently had left a case of sodas, but they were all gone, leaving only the empties, which had attracted a whole horde of bees – making obtaining this water an adventure all on its own.

As I ever so slowly poured the water into my bottles, the bees swarmed me. Not stinging or anything, just crawling all over me and my water bottles – apparently feeding off the salt in my sweat. Yes, bees crawling all over me, more and more by the second. I felt like one of those crazy beekeeper guys on tv. This situation could have turned from just plain uncomfortable to very, VERY bad VERY quickly. I filled up and got out of there.

Coincidentally, about half an hour later, there I was walking up a mountain minding my own business (On another HOT day by the way), and suddenly I feel a sharp pain in my calf! I look down, and there’s a bee putting all its effort into wiggling it’s butt into my leg! Bzzzzz Bzzzzz I swatted it away, thinking “What did I ever do to you?!” Being the bad ass thru-hiker, I simply stopped, reached down, pulled the stinger out with my fingernails, and just kept on walking.

Later I came upon the sign for Rutherford Shelter. Somebody had carved “Tick Town” in the sign. I chose not to explore any further, and continued on to High Point State Park, where the headquarters building is right on the trail. There was a pay phone outside there, and Beer Styk, Yahtzee, Freebird and I ordered pizza and Coke! Whoo Hoo! Ronin and Blazenheart caught us there too, and the latter three and I got permisssion to stay overnight in the park pavilion, much like the pavilions in the local parks at home – a roof and a number of picnic tables. So I’m sleeping on a picnic table tonight! That’s a first. It was dark when I went in to lay out my sleeping pad. Freebird was already bedded down, and I spotted a raccoon right in front of me! It was a bold one too, and hesitant to be chased away. We hung up our food as a precaution – we’ll see if our food is still there in the morning…

“Shitting is not a spectator sport!”

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Thursday, August 09, 2001
High Point-Unionville, NY
Today’s Miles: 8.8
Trip Miles: 1316.4

The mosquitoes were very, VERY, annoying last night. In fact, they were awful. Biting constantly with no mercy and buzzing right up in my ears while trying to sleep. Argh, I hate them! Awful. And so’s the heat, officially a heat wave, I suppose. It’s awful I tell you, awful. Unbearable. I’ll spare the awful details.
Our food was kept safe overnight from Rocky Raccoon, thanks to my marksmanship with stringing the rope!

Haha yeah right. Anyway, um, did I mention it was hot today? I passed near the highest point in New Jersey today, hence the name High Point State Park. Big whoop. Eventually I made my way to the Secret (Shhh) shelter to get water, actually a small secret (Shhh) structure off the trail on a farmer’s secret (Shhh) property. All I really did then was sit around there with the other hikers and bitch about how hot it was. That was all we could do. The actual temp was over one hundred, I hear.

Freebird and I hoisted the packs on finally in late afternoon and dragged ourselves north up the trail, with the plan to stop off in a town called Unionville to grab a meal, then continue on and camp somewhere. Coming around a bend, suddenly I saw Freebird stopped dead in his tracks. I could hear splashing in a pond up ahead. I was hoping it was a bear swatting for fish, and I think he did too. So we creep up, ever so slowly to this pond…

And it’s a bunch of cattle! Doah!

This was one disgusting pond too, let me tell you – pure stagnant pasture pond water. It had all kinds of green muck growing on the surface too – and the cows were wallowing and splashing in it! Just to keep cool on a hellish day like today, I suppose. We adeptly herded them out of the way, cattle proffesionals by now, we are. Doing the road walk into town, we passed a graveyard with a prominent KEEP OUT sign posted. Haha, get it? You want to keep out of there! Freebird thought it would be better if it read DEAD END. Heheh.

In town, the restaurant turned out to have a bar, and an inevitably good time was had. Other hikers showed. Yes, a good time was had. The jukebox played good stuff. We weren’t going anywhere.

When the bar closed, it came time to spend the night in the “hostel” they offered, which in reality is an old storage room with shelf type structures for hikers to sleep on. Yep, I’m going from a picnic table last night to a storage shelf tonight!

Freebird and I found the “Keep Out” sign to be rather amusing

Friday, August 10, 2001
Unionville, NY-Vernon, NJ
Today’s Miles: 13.2
Trip Miles: 1329.6

Last night was hell. Tonight is heaven.

The storage room-hostel, shelf-bunk, room last night was an absolute sauna. We knew it, and made an effort to avoid sleeping in there. Freebird asked around at the fire station and a few other places about staying overnight or pitching our tents. Zero luck. It was FAR too hot inside that room, so I opted to sleep on the concrete porch, which was far too hot as well, but not as far too hot as the far too hot room. You follow. Anyway, it was far too hot, as I was saying, so the only way it was possible not to lay and sweat your cahones off was to be practically naked. The trouble is, the mosquitoes were as thick as ever! Augh! This posed quite a problem, as there was NO place to get a SECOND of rest and I was VERY tired. And the sound of those freakin’ mosquitoes in my ears – I swear if I ever hear that sound again after the trail I’ll go insane like Vietnam flashbacks and start swatting at the air like a crazed madman. “Mosquitoes must die! DIE!”

So yeah, I had an extremely uncomfortable night. It was so frustrating – I felt like beating the crap out of anything within reach and crying at the same time. I eventually moved inside the sauna at two or three in the morning after getting zero sleep, just to get away from the satanic mosquitoes. I somehow managed to get a few hours of sleep in there, despite being baked medium well.

I awoke in the late morning to more oppressive heat. In fact, I think it’s the heat that woke me, or else I could have slept twelve more hours. I got lunch in town and headed out, and the day’s hike turned out to be great. I went through some low wetlands in the Wallkill River Valley, the weather cooled and clouded over a bit, and it started lightly raining as I climbed to the Pochuck Mountain Shelter. Skipper and Tenderfoot were hanging out there. I spent a few minutes, cooled off a bit, and continued on.

The rain made everything wet(Now THERE’s a brilliant statement, Duct Tape!), and the trail was overgrown, so all the plants brushing up against me in turn made me soaked. Then the Deer Flies came – swarming, circling, buzzing, and biting. The humidity and bugs started to get to me again, so every few minutes I had to hold a “Deer Fly Massacre,” where I’d stop, stand still, removed my soaked bandanna, and whip it around like a wet towel, annihilating every last deer fly in the radius. It was quite fun, actually – giving me a few moments of peaceful walking until the next wave of them would come – repeat.

Things went on like that through the humid, wet, mass of green until I came to the beginning of the roadwalk to Vernon, where Tekman and I went in together. The town of Vernon is awesome, thanks to the Episcopal Church, which runs an altogether “holy” hostel. In the basement of the church, it has laundry, a shower, kitchen, computer, and tv with vcr! Not to mention the Burger King and Dunkin Donuts, both within spitting distance of the church, and everything else within easy walking distance. And man, they have the air conditioning PUMPING in the Burger King! I read in a newspaper that they had an energy crisis yesterday when so many people had their air conditioning and such running in the afternoon. Tekman said they could solve the problem by turning down the thermostat in all the local Burger Kings by two degrees! Ha!

So yeah, tonight at the hostel I’m thoroughly clean and happy. We rented Clerks and a Monty Python movie, so we’re all gathered around, bellies full(Quite an accomplishment in itself), and practically worshipping the electric box. Tonight is heaven.

the swamps of Jersey

Saturday, August 11, 2001
Vernon, NJ-Wayayanda Shelter
Today’s Miles: 5.4
Trip Miles: 1335

A funny thing happened today.

I had walked far enough.

When I was climbing the ascent out of Vernon, it hit me like a bolt of lightning. I was suddenly satisfied with my hike – almost ready to go home, to an extent. I had walked as far as I needed to. It wasn’t a lack of the will to go on, surely, this mountain was actually kind of easy. Today was a great day, compared to some of the last few. I felt that I had gained the bulk of the experience – what was neccessary to re-enter the “real world” with a new way of thinking, and that the only thing yet to experience was to flesh out the rest of the journey, to actually finish.

It was very weird. I don’t know. Maybe there was something in the chocolate frosted and chocolate glazed donuts at Dunkin’ Donuts this morning. Maybe there was something in the coffee that got me thinking. Maybe it was that girl behind the counter… ha!

I mentioned what I was thinking to Freebird this evening. He dismissed it as “crazy talk.” Good ol’ Freebird. He’s probably right.

I just don’t know…

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Sunday, August 12, 2001
Wayayanda Shelter
Today’s Miles: 0
Trip Miles: 1335

The mosquitoes were nasty again last night. I’ve adopted a zero tolerance policy for the little buggers – getting up and pitching my tent well after dark after I realized they’d be a nuisance for the night. Freebird had the same idea and pitched his well after me. I didn’t even know it until morning. Then it rained too, and it was relaxing to listen to it hit my rainfly, as I was nice and cozy and dry in my tent.

I took a zero day here today. I’m not quite sure why – just mulling things over, I guess. Dolphin Boy, Indian Summer, and Groovy passed through, pushing for the New York border. Spyro is spending the night here. I’m feeling awkwardly displaced – many of my friends are drifting farther and farher ahead. Somebody wrote something quite amusing in the register here that I’d like to share with you- “Remember the phrase ‘No pain, no rain, no Maine? Well, it should have been… No pain, no rain, no stinking armpit in the seventh level of hell HOT, no Maine” I liked that.

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Monday, August 13, 2001
Wayayanda Shelter-Greenwood Lake, NY
Today’s Miles: 9.9
Trip Miles: 1344.9

The terrain was rough today, with all sorts of small cliffs and boulders to tackle. I passed into the state of New York, marked by a small register in the middle of a rocky ridge. I was still confused about whether or not to stay on the trail, not knowing what to do with myself. Every step dragged on, tearing myself up between the two options. It was perhaps my lowest point of the whole trip, psychologically.

I chose to go into Greenwood Lake for the night, not even quite sure why. Pure silliness. I road-walked the narrow shoulder on the dangerous curving mountain road into town. I wasn’t even motivated enough to stick out my thumb. I checked the only motel listed in town – apparently closed on Mondays. It was getting late and dark. A local referred me to another place, about a mile out of town. The town of Greenwood Lake itself seemed old and dilapidated. Most of the establishments seemed to be out of business, and those that were in business all had desperate “help wanted” signs posted. The place I was referred to didn’t have any rooms either. The guy there called two more in the area for me. The Warwick Motel, in a completely different town altogether had a vacancy, but was five miles away. Another place within walking distance didn’t answer the phone.

It was dark out. I walked to the one nearby, and there I was greeted by perhaps the best hospitality along the whole trail. It was an old, antique style hotel, but wholely comfortable, sitting right on the lake. I ordered pizza and two liters of Coke, and ate it all in front of the tv in the lobby area, watching Independence Day. Wow, my morale suddenly shot through the roof! More trail magic! It’s all good again.

Tuesday, August 14, 2001
Greenwood Lake, NY-Unnamed Campsite
Today’s Miles: 10.2
Trip Miles: 1355.1

I ate a great breakfast this morning alone in a huge, window-lined dining room looking out over the SO peaceful Greenwood Lake. I could have stayed there all day, but alas, there is hiking to be done. After a brief tour of the antiques around the hotel, the innkeeper gave me a much appreciated ride back up to the trailhead. It turns out that I slept in the room that Babe Ruth used to frequent! Sweet!

It oddly felt like autumn up on the ridge. A lot of leaves were down. I guess many of them died off in the hellish heatwave, and then the recent rain brought them down. This was a beautiful stretch. I passed an excellent spot for a view around lunchtime that’s supposed to offer an occasional view of the tips of the New York City sckyscrapers, but I saw nothing of the sort on this hazy day. I walked half a mile down a road this afternoon to a deli for a Coke (What else?) and met Klipspringer there – the first hiker thru-hiker I saw all day. Things are getting pretty deserted back here.

I’m camping in a random spot tonight with Spyro – we each have our tents set up on spongy beds of moss… ahhhhh. The mosquitoes are still terrible though, and I had to pace back and forth up the trail while chewing my dinner in order to avoid them chewing me as their dinner! At least it’s not as hot anymore

Greenwood Lake

Wednesday, August 15, 2001
Campsite-William Brien Shelter
Today’s Miles: 11.5
Trip Miles: 1366.6

I got up fairly late again today for some reason, but as soon as I started hiking I felt good. Walking along a creek and passing a pond, I entered Harriman State Park, and began climbing up to the famous lemon squeezer.

The lemon squeezer is a very narrow crevice between some huge boulders that the trail decidedly goes straight through. When I say narrow I mean NARROW – and the footing was kind of tricky to boot. It would have been quite a sight to see me squeeze and squirm my way through it, not to mention the pretty words that came out my mouth as a bonus! I seriously thought I’d be stuck for a moment, but came out clean as a whistle on the other end.

The trail from there on meandered through some beautiful woods with green, flowing grasses on the forest floor along the ridgeline, as opposed to the typical thick, tangled, strangling undergrowth. I later went half a mile off the trail to the Lake Tiortia public picnic area, with a big lake, small man made beach, and day vacationers from New York City, but most importantly, a soda and snack machine! While down there enjoying some small goodies, I met Bodily Function, Mounds, and Almond Joy. One of them was flipping out because of the noise, crowd of people, and screaming young kids – I mean, he literally couldn’t take it anymore and hurried back into the woods as quick as possible. This is what the trail does to some of us!

I hurried back to the woods myself later toward the evening. The shadows grew long in that pre sunset sort of way through the same, beautiful grassy woods as this afternoon. This camping area is wide and picturesque too, and I’m enjoying a campfire tonight with a father and two sons out only for the night. It’s so nice to have a fire – I can’t remember the last time I did. It’s a perfect night.

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Thursday, August 16, 2001
William Brien Shelter-Graymoor Monastery
Today’s Miles: 15.4
Trip Miles: 1382

“Paint the fence, Daniel son. Up… down. Up… down. No no, like this. Up… down. Up… down. Very good Daniel son. Do ALL the fence. Both side.” (Walks away, but heard in distance) “UP! DOWN! UP! DOWN! UP! DOWN!” AYE!”
-Mr. Miagi

With four somewhat significant climbs today, that was the extent of it. Up! Down! Black Mountain, West Mountain, Bear Mountain… oh yeah, I love ya! I was up relatively early too, on this humid day. Crossing the Palisades Parkway was kind of cool. I don’t know why. It was just cool. Maybe ’cause it goes into New York City. Is the interstate in any way related to the “Palisades Park” in the oldie song? Huh? Anybody? Anybody?

The trail brought me right through Bear Mountain State Park, and its old inn. The whole area was crowded, being a daily vacation type getaway for much of New York City’s finest. So, it was essentially crowded with loud people. Fortunately, I was oblivious to them, as I had more important matters to attend to.

The cafeteria in the inn.

Yum.

It was getting late by the time I was finished gorging – late being five o’clock, as I hoped to hike seven more miles and it’s getting dark earlier these days. As I made my way to through the park toward the Hudson River, a little boy on a bike asked how far I’d come. I told him from Georgia, of course.

“Daddy!” he called over to a picnic bench, “He’s another one!” The dad and I exchanged a few pleasantries in raised voices, I was yelling to him with about thirty yards between us. He motioned for me to walk over to him.

“You sleep in the bushes?” he asked me.

“Yeah, I usually camp out,” I answered.

“Damn!” he said, looking at me like I was a ghost. “And you going all the way to Maine?”

“Yup.” At that, he made some grimacing noises as if he was in pain.

“And you came from Georgia?”

“Yes.”

“In the bushes?”

“Yes, in the woods.”

More grimacing noises, then sort of a bewilderment as another question came to his mind.

“And what do you eat, in the bushes?”

“Pop tarts, bagels, peanut butter, honey, Snickers…” Then he started laughing at a notion.

“HOO hoo, and don’t you worry, what if, HOO HA, what if a bear or something takes an INTEREST, HAHA, in your tent at night? Man! In the bushes!”

“That rarely happens,” I said.

“I’d mess my trousers! HAHA! Out there in the bushes?! Do you have a gun? A weapon?”

“No.” Then taking on a serious look, shaking his head-

“Nothing?! Oh, you’re a brave man, I tell you, in the bushes like that…”

The conversation went on quite like that for about twenty minutes or so until I was finally dismissed. Crossing the Hudson on the Bear Mountain Bridge was awesome. The bridge itself is about a half mile wide, and the wind was blowing furiously over the river, adding drama to the crossing. Cars passed by in both directions as I looked out over the water, feeling the wind. I enjoyed it very much. This is also the lowest elevation along the whole trail, at about 150 feet or so.

Inevitably soon, I was climbing straight back up, and it felt as though my gorge fest from the cafeteria wanted to climb straight back up too, so I sat and took a long break, which I really couldn’t afford to do, as daylight was fading. I hiked the last mile or so in the dark.

I’m staying tonight at the ballfield at the Graymoor Monastery. The friars here have been taking in hikers for years. I set up my tent to avoid the ever present mosquitoes of death, even though it looks like rain tonight.

Black Mountain

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Friday, August 17, 2001
Graymoor Monastery-Clarence Fahnestock State Park
Today’s Miles: 11.8
Trip Miles: 1393.8

It did indeed rain overnight. No matter. When I stumbled out of my tent, it was grey, foggy, and dismal, as it would remain throughout much of the day. I was told that The Amazing Dolphin Boy and Indian Summer stayed here last night, but were gone well before I got going. I’d like to see them again.

Yahtzee, Nathan, Beer Styk, and I yo-yo-ed all afternoon – they’d pass me, I’d pass them, they’d pass me, etc. The humidity was again oppressive, and the woods were soaked from the rain, the moisture having nowhere to evaporate to. Hiking on this day wasn’t exactly pleasurable, and my energy was at a low.

My lunch “break” was a matter of hours, near Dennytown Road. We got to complaining and feeling sorry for ourselves there, laughing at our hopelessness. Yahtzee said “Anybody that’s back here has to be @#$%ing crazy to still be trying to make Katahdin this season!” pretty much speaking aloud what I’ve feared for a little while now. The four of us were in the same boat – here in New York past mid August, coming from Springer, and too stubborn to fip-flop. Flip-flopping for a practical explanation is to jump up from a point on the trail to Katahdin, then hike back south to where you left off. For example, I’d hitch from here at Dennytown Road up to Maine, summit Katahdin, then hike back south and finish my thru hike at the road sometime in October, beating the cold weather in the north. I’m sure I could do just that and successfully finish, no sweat, but there’s NO WAY that I want to complete my thru hike at some place like DENNYTOWN ROAD. I mean, really. Come on.

So yeah, while complaining about the state of affairs, it suddenly appeared that a big black cloud was heading this way, preparing to dump a big ol’ thunderstorm on us. It was as if to say “You think you’ve got problems NOW? Ha! Well, take THIS!”

The wind picked up and the sky grew darker, but no storm came. Maybe it was just a warning, a knock to our senses.

The latter part of the day was just as undesirable as the first – even moreso. The trail was thick and overgrown, and the footing and blowdowns were bad as well. It hadn’t been maintained recently. All the wet branches and leaves continuously brushed up against me.

With my spirits low, I decided to spend the night off the trail at a public campground, as I wasn’t going to make it farther by dark and was in no mood for night hiking. I set up my tent to stealth camp on an unregistered site out of view. I met a pair of kind couples there for a weekend vacation that brought everything to their campsite for the weekend but the kitchen sink. Amazingly, I was invited to share their dinner with them, and was served steak and potatoes! Did I say STEAK!? Wow! I enjoyed a wonderful evening with them, around a fire with commercial firewood and all. Life is good.

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Saturday, August 18, 2001
Clarence Fahnestock State Park-Morgan Stewart Shelter
Today’s Miles: 16
Trip Miles: 1409.8

It got pretty chilly again last night. The nights feel cold to me, because I still don’t carry a sleeping bag since I sent my twenty degree one home in Troutville. I’ve been getting by though, as I have a system that does the job. Nevertheless, it will be nice when I get it back.

The campground has a snack bar with hot dogs, fries, cheeseburgers, and the like so it was a late but satisfied start for me. With a road leading to a deli and pizzeria in twelve miles, my motivation was high all day long. It was a beautiful Saturday, and I was in a great mood. It must have been the Coke from the snack bar! Haha!

I didn’t see a northbounder all day – only three southbounders. “I have to be mad to still be going to Katahdin!” One of my favorite past times is doing the long division to figure out the average miles I have to do every day in order to finish before the season for heavy snow hits Maine. The average keeps getting higher.

So I went down to this pizzeria around six thirty. I ate a whole medium pizza no problem, but the important thing to note is the guys working there were Yankees fans and had the game on! I sat transfixed to see the Yanks rally in the very end, but still lose after a good game against the Mariners. It was dark by the time I hit the trail again, intending to night hike four miles to the next shelter for the night.

The night was just as beautiful as the day. I came to a small dead end road and stepped out onto the pavement in the dark when a dog came violently charging at me! It was fiercly bounding to attack and showed no sign of halting. I leapt back immediatly and stuck out my stick in a defensive pose, ready to fight this thing if it went for me. It was big and mean too, and my life (Err, uh, hike) flashed before my eyes in an instant. I was just about to jab the point of my stick into its lunging throat when the owner out of nowhere called it back in a loud, mean, commaning voice, and the dog insantly turned back. The owner continued to yell at it and scold it in the formerly quiet night air, and never aknowledged my presence. I wonder if he even saw me at all, but he surely must have.

I continued on through the darkness, thankful but thoroughly frightened and on edge for three more miles until I set up my tent and crawled in it for the night.

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Sunday, August 19, 2001
Morgan Stewart Shelter-Wiley Shelter
Today’s Miles: 16.6
Trip Miles: 1426.4

I spent most of the morning hanging out with the others that stayed in the shelter, two guys and the one’s son. They were cool people and were just out for a night or two for the young one’s first backpacking trip. I didn’t get going until somewhat late, which was okay, because I was excited that today would be my last full day in New York.

I passed Nuclear Lake and took a quick break at the Telephone Pioneers Shelter. Yes, the lake was contaminated years ago with radioactive materials, and as far as the telephone pioneers… well, your guess is as good as mine! There was a HUGE oak tree at a road crossing called the Dover Oak, supposedly the thickest tree on the whole trail. It was monstrous, with limbs thicker than all the forest around it. I personally preferred the “Keffer” oak back in Virgina though… it just had a better vibe to it or something – I don’t know. The footpath then went two miles through the valley and some marshy fields until I came to Appalachian Trail Station – the trails very own train station for a New York City line! It had the appearance of a bus stop rather than a train station, but was quite cool nonetheless.

I then meandered through some picturesque hayfields in the twilight before ascending again back into the mountains again. The last five miles to the shelter were incredibly easy, but I had to night hike some of it anyway before getting to the shelter. Just as it reached the point of darkness where I had to put my headlamp on, I came to an extremely creepy, isolated graveyard on the ridge. An old, iron archway forbiddingly stood in front of it and had the words “Gate of Heaven” engraved in it. I didn’t stick around long to explore.

I was greeted at the shelter well after dark by a group of about five southbound thru-hikers hanging out and playing a simple game. I stayed up another hour or so with them and they were great company, but made me miss all my friends who are ahead, and may not see again on this hike.

the Keffer Oak

Monday, August 20, 2001
Wiley Shelter-Kent, CT
Today’s Miles: 12.7
Trip Miles: 1439.1

I was fixated most of the day on getting to Kent. I was the last one out of the shelter, but continued north and soon passed into Connecticut! Being that I was finally in New England and all, you’d think that I whooped it up and hollered and celebrated the achievement, but it really wasn’t like that. I simply had sort of a “Well, it’s about time, Duct Tape!” kind of feeling.

The trail beautifully followed the Ten Mile River for a mile or two this morning. The difference of the woods in New England already began to shine, as I silently went about my way beneath the eaves of thick stands of pine and spruce. The lean-to (They’re not called “shelters,” but “lean-tos” in Connecticut for some reason beyond me) was nicely situated in an open field near the river, where a young couple that had stayed last night were still hanging around. I enjoyed their company for a bit, while stealing glances at the rapidly clouding sky. They were in a fix because they had just been in Kent the day before and forgot to pick up some iodine. I wish I could have helped them out, but I use a filter and don’t carry any.

There was a considerable climb up Schaghticoke (Say that five times fast!) Mountain after the trail turned away from the river region. I then walked the rolling ridge the rest of the day, going through an area comfortingly coined “Rattlesnake Den” campsite. I still haven’t seen any rattlesnakes in almost fifteen hundred miles. In a mailbox register along the way I read that Freebird simply wrote “Must… get… to… Kent.” I mirrored those thoughts exactly!

I wasn’t in town long when I saw The Amazing Dolphin Boy and Indian Summer! I thought they’d be a day ahead, because they’re consciously doing “big” miles now… something those of us straggling back here really have to do. The only inn in town was booked, but they so graciously invited me to share their room with them. There was even a fold-out cot in there! We enjoyed dinner together (I ate a whole pizza of course) and discussed our prospects of getting to Katahdin before the snow gets bad.

After we were settled in, Indian Summer said “I’m going to run to the gas station quick – do you guys want anything?”

“Great! A liter of Coke, if you would…”

Pennsylvania____The Appalachian Trail____Connecticut / Massachusetts