I’m playing catch-up with my trail journal, so this is going to be the highlights instead of a play-by-play.

6/29/2010

Here’s a theory: the reason that things are named along the A.T., even silly little hills or dinky challenges like the Rollercoaster, is because hikers love to complain. It just sounds a lot better to whine, “Jeez that Devil’s Racecourse was a real pain,” than to cry, “I didn’t think I was going to make it up Unnamed Peak 13.” OK, maybe Peak 13 would be a good one, but you get the idea. While the A.T. is a physically demanding task as a whole, the individual climbs–especially from Northern Virginia through Massachusetts–are not that challenging. But still the names. Because hikers thrive on complaining. It is what gets them through the day, up the mountain and down the other side. The section of the trail we complain about the most? The Pennsylvania Rocks. I’m going to capitalize that because they have earned my respect by destroying my body over the past two weeks.

Photo by Bill Qualls 2006

I didn’t believe the hype about the Rocks. When I got back on the trail, I told myself I would “own” the state of Pennsylvania. The elevation profile was the flattest we had seen the entire trip. What could be so hard about some rocks? A lot, as it turns out. Fynious, Jibitz and I knocked out Maryland in our first two days on the trail. Well before the state line into PA, the trail started to get rocky. Very rocky. Boulder field after boulder field. Jagged little rocks sticking up out of the dirt. Small rocks that move when you step on them. Big rocks that move when you step on them. What made the Pennsylvania Rocks a real challenge was less the pain you felt at the end of the day from rock-walking for seven or eight hours, but more so the mental exhaustion. Having to look down all day, actively thinking about every step you take and where there is some clear or at least less-jagged spot to place your foot–this is a really draining activity. To summarize, let’s just say I’m glad to be out of PA.

That being said, there were some high points in the slog since my time off in D.C. I went “whitewater tubing” down the Potomac when Tim and Laura drove me back to Harpers Ferry. The actual tube ride down the river wasn’t nearly as fun as the bus ride up to the put-in point, because we had a woman driving our bus who was at the very least a little buzzed and at worst clinically insane.

Maryland went quick, but PA highlights are legion. Our first trail town was Boiling Springs, a cute town where a historic resort, the Allenberry, was running a “hiker special.” Our guidebooks listed the rooms as $25/night, about $100 less than the normal guests were paying. By the time we got there, the rates had gone up to $40 for a double room. Apparently management had some issues with hikers–people turning the hot tub brown from being dirty, stealing toilet paper from the rooms, basically being hiker trash. We even had an issue the day I was there. Some kid, Space Bag, had allegedly jumped off a balcony into the swimming pool and gotten kicked out. In the registers for a couple days out of town, someone (I assume Space Bag) kept writing “Did Space Bag jump? The world may never know.” Whether he did it or not, his perceived behavior is going to make things worse for hikers who go through there in the future, and probably make this the last season that the Allenberry offers a reduced rate to folks on the trail. This place was truly wonderful, though, and well worth the $20 I paid to split a room with Fynious. Laundry, hot tub, swimming pool, gorgeous grounds, a game room with pool and ping pong, and an all-you-can-eat dinner buffet with prime rib for only $15.

We also found out while we were at the Allenberry just how famous our hiking partner Jibitz is. She’s a very nice middle-aged woman from Maine, and a very experienced hiker. She’s one of only 3 woman to summit all 48 4,000 footers in New Hampshire in every month of the year. It took her two years to do the 576 climbs. Madness! So we were sitting around on the grounds of the resort, and this couple walks up to her who had done a hike with her years ago. Jibitz didn’t remember them, but these folks had driven out to surprise her from Baltimore! They drove us to the grocery store and to run a couple of other errands. Very nice folks. This would not be the last time that knowing Jibitz has resulted in trail magic from other hikers.

Other PA highlights–the Doyle Hotel in Duncannon, this old Budweiser hotel which is now a dive bar and the kind of place that rents a room by the week. Fynious and I opted to stay at the town’s campground instead of the hotel (a decision we were later told was the right one), but not before lightening the bar’s keg of Yuengling by a schooner glass or four. Port Clinton, where I got a trail magic cookout from Mennonite dairy farmers. Farm-fresh hamburgers and homemade ice cream, and Pennsylvania Dutch style cookies. Up the road in Hamburg, where I completed the dollar menu challenge at McDonalds, and then had to walk the 2 miles back to Port Clinton because we couldn’t get a hitch. Hamburg also had a Cabela’s, which is probably the size of three Super WalMarts, big enough to contain a literal mountain of dead animals, yet doesn’t have any kind of functional hiking gear.

At the Eckville Shelter 15 miles out of Port Clinton, I got magic from another couple that knows Jibitz–M&M and Pootz. These two met on the trail during their 2007 thru-hike, and were out to relive some moments from their trip. They brought out three pizzas and a bunch of beer and soda, and then even slack-packed me the next day into the town of Palmerton. Very nice couple, and I hope to be able to pay their kindness forward some day on the trail. Since I was only carrying a little food and water, I was able to fly into town while listening to the US get knocked out of the World Cup on the radio. I had a hell of a time getting into the town after a state trooper told me I couldn’t hitch. I had to bushwack my way down a ridge, climb over a railroad fence, cross a bridge then climb over another fence and sneak through someone’s backyard to get to the jailhouse hostel, directions to which I had to ask from skateboarders because the police station was closed. I was able to end my day with a cheese steak, pie and a chocolate milk shake, so all’s well that ends well.

Fynious, two section hikers named Hustle and Flo, and I zero-ed in town the next day to watch more soccer. The bartender at the Palmerton Hotel opened the door for us at 9 so we could watch the game. And then the next game. We had originally planned to leave, but after much soccer, wings and beer we decided to stay another night. This let Jibitz catch up (we had lost her at the Allenberry, and then again at Port Clinton), and we did the climb out of Palmerton together. Lehigh Gap is a Superfund site because zinc smelting in the area killed all the vegetation. That means this whole ridge we climbed up was just bare rock, totally exposed. It also meant great views of the Lehigh River and town below.

It took us two more rocky days to get to New Jersey from Palmerton. We spent the first night in a motel in Wind Gap. The second day we walked through the nice border town of Delaware Water Gap, and then across the highway bridge into NJ. It always feels great to walk into a new state–I was welcomed into Jersey by a mother bear and three cubs. I’ve heard that Jersey is the most surprising section for thru-hikers, in that the section of the state the trail passes through is so wild and beautiful. Getting welcomed by a bear seems like a good omen. Next update–NJ/NY.

Katahdin-bound!–Ichabod