In Which Pennsylvania is long and rocky

An Update! I have returned to California for the time being (then drove through 10 states, then flew to CA again, flew back to kansas, drove through 9 more states, and wound up in CA again). Which means I have a lot of time on my hands since now, not only am I unemployed, I also don't walk ~10 hours a day and live in the woods! I expect to update the rest of my blog in the next month or so (I wound up getting a little distracted by the trail and things and didn't write for the second half of the AT, and it took a while to get back into it). I apologize for possibly shorter and less entertaining narration, as I'm now writing about things which happened a couple months ago and my memory is beginning to fade.

With that introduction and excuses out of the way, on with the walking!

Day 79 (August 31): Flatland and New Faces

As you probably don't recall, last updated ended with me leaving McDonnalds without using their restroom (because they were cleaning it), and disappointedly discovering the shelter I went to had no privy. After some research into my guidebook, I discovered the next privy wasn't for 12.7 miles. Sufficiently motivated, I broke camp fairly early and hiked on.

Pennsylvania continued to be rocky but flat as I hiked. It's strange, from the elevation profile, it looks really easy, but in reality it was constant rocks. We usesd to say that Pennsylvania was the promised land (because there were no mountains). I was beginning to update that assessment, and understand why Northbounders just laughed and said yes when we asked them about it (dirty NoBos).

The view from the rocky platue was nice... but it's all flat!

Eventually, I reached the restaurant that was by the trail and the guidebook said had a restroom. It was closed (though I did meet and talk with a hiker there... I have sadly forgotten her name. She was getting off for a wedding, then coming back. Also planning on finishing in January, so she may be still on the trail right now.)

Another 4 miles took me to the privy I could use. I'm not entirely sure why, but I had come to the conclusion I wasn't going to poop in the woods using a trowel. This might partially be because I didn't pack a trowel, so would have needed to dig and cover the cathole with my bare hands or sticks and rocks, which is exactly as unappealing as it sounds.

 As I left the shelter, I passed a group of discouraged section hikers. They warned me that the trail was way too rocky ahead and that I'd need to go slow. I did not slow down.

Finally, I reached the Eckville shelter (where I would spend the night), which was 0.2 miles off trail. A hiking club had built a shed in the backyard of a house, and installed bunks there. It had a permanent caretaker (who had lived in the house for ~15 years). He threw us all iceys to eat, which were delicious in the heat.

At the shelter, I reunited with Buns and Day Hiker (who had left ahead of me), and met Daytona (a southbounder I recognized from log books as having written half of her entries in french), and Master Shredder (a North Bounder who... probably wasn't going to make it (it's really late in the season and he wasn't doing large miles)). Just Right had decided she didn't want to do a 24 mile day today, so had fallen behind somewhere.

Stats:
Mileage: 24.2 miles
Elevation Change: 500 feet up, 1000 feet down

Day 80 (September 1): Shelter in Port

Today, I planned on going to Port Clinton. It'd be a fairly short day to offset the fairly long and uncomfortable day I'd just had, and would give me electricity and internet to finish arranging a visit with Malia.

The Appalachian Trail does some... questionable... maneuvers in how it gets from point A to point B. As the crow flies, Eckville shelter is ~5 miles from Port Clinton. As the AT hikes, Eckville shelter is ~15 miles. It decided to take 270 degrees of a circular arc, since that goes along the mountain ridge. That way, we can both do more elevation gain and loss, and take longer.

About 5 miles into the hike, it started to rain. This was the first time it had rained since I sent my boots home. I got wet. Eventually, I began to just repeat the mantra of "White Blaze. Not Lost." Whenever I saw a white blaze. Unfortunately, I still got lost in the rain (though I got back after a couple minutes of wandering in the rain).

After the rain stopped (it rained for ~1.5 hours), I met a guy who was doing a 4 day hike in preparation to hike the AT next year. He asked me a bunch of gear and hiking questions which I answered. He was impressed by my sandals.

Eventually, I reached Port Clinton. It's a small town with an actual inn called the Port Clinton Hotel. When I say "inn," I mean that in the medieval sense of story book dwellings for travelers. The ground floor was a restaurant and bar serving food and beer, and you could ask the bar tenders about lodging for the night. The second floor was a series of kind of small rooms, with bathrooms at either end of the hallway. It was a great experience (also quite cheap).

Stats:
Mileage: 14.8 miles
Elevation Change: 1500 feet up, 2000 feet down

Day 81 (September 2):Books are fun

Today, I decided I wanted a bit of a break since after my long day I had a rainy day (instead of a solid break), so I bought and read a book on Kindle (book name), and went to a breakfast place in Port Clinton. It's really a nice quaint town. I heartily recommend it. I also finalized arangements with Malia via the internet while I had it.

Eventually, I finished my book, so bought lunch at the inn, and went back on the trail. I stopped at the first shelter. There, I met up with Just Right, who was the only other person at the shelter.

Found Marshall's path. Maybe Kant is at the end?

Stats:
Mileage: 8.1 miles
Elevation Change: 1000 feet up

Day 82 (September 3): Pizza Delivery

Today, there was a nice coiled snake by the shelter as we were leaving. We bushwacked around it. The rest of the day was marked by excellent trail magic.

First, we came across a man at the first intersection 5 miles into our hike. He was a northbounder who was supporting his hiking partner through the 100 miles she'd missed. And doing trail magic for SoBos. I actualy missed him when I first passed the road, and he sprinted barefooted across Pennsylvania Rocks to catch up with me and ask me if I wanted a drink and a hot dog. I was grateful.

I promise this is a different picture than the one a couple days ago. It's just Pennsylvania always looks the same.

Immediately after leaving him, Just Right and I came across more trail magic, in the form of a cooler filled with organic food snacks. We ate several of them before continuing on (after she debated if she wanted to stay at the hostel the snacks came from).

Third, we stopped at a swimming hole with a rope swing. As I was doing laundry, a bunch of people came to spend the night there. They started a fire and offered us hot dogs to cook. We happily accepted and ate them.

Finally, we arrived at the 501 shelter. This shelter was superior to almost every shelter we've stayed at, because it had an inside with lots of bunks and a table, and pizza places delivered to it. We ate well that day.

Stats:
Mileage 15.1 miles
Elevation Change: trivial-none

Friendly Nate (NoBo I never personally met). I like the guy already.

Transcript for those who can't read it: 

Battle has ensued. There are no victories, but I know what has been lost. Today's totals: 4 wax-wings, 1 fly, and 1 gnat.

With each kill, I descend another step lower. A bitter taste is in the back of my throat, and each time I swat I unravel a little further, like I'm unwinding a tangled bear cable. It pulls forth, a twisted mess coated in an ichorous black ooze.

Sometimes, before the final blow I'll gaze into the multitude of eyes. I revel in the initial strike, breaking its wings, a crinkling death-knell announcing the fly's fate. At this moment I gaze into the fly, and I see madness staring back at me.

Each kill is no longer enough. I have blood on my hands-thick and viscous-but it is not enough. Perhaps this miasma of death has succeeded where DEET has failed. Without their constant droning I have no new target. How to slate this hunger? It is no longer enough to feel the pop as I end a miserable existance.

A hapless bramble blocks my path. Bereft of its fruit, it is empty, barren, worthless. My trekking poles blur into a graceful arc, a blue and black scythe which no bush can withstand.

Ask not for whom the pole fells; it fells for me!

Again and again I strike, til naught remains but shredded leaflets. the bitter taste is back, and it is sweet.

I have become as death, destroyer of thorns, but wait, stop, this is not me! I am friendly, not angry! I must re-find my inner zen, and reach an outer peace with the trail.

I must push on; hasten, hasten! Flee to town, baptize myself in the cleansing waters of the Port Clinton pavilion, annoint myself in salves of bacitracin and hydrocortisone. I shall be reborn, for I am

FRIENDLY NATE

Day 83 (September 4): Malia Visists

Today, I wound up inviting Just Right to come with Malia and myself for an off-trail adventure. She agreed. Malia picked us up, and drove us to a PA state park, where we went on a hike. The trail was well maintained! There weren't any rocks! The trail was wide! There were benches everywhere! Spiderwebs didn't coat the trail! There wasn't elevation gain! The trail went beside a creek and had pretty views! Just Right and I had no idea that Pennsylvania could have good hiking in it. While the AT does pass through the park, it only goes through approximately 100 yards.

A wild Grizzly. Image credit: Malia

Eventually, Malia drove us to a Wendy's where we ate food, and then a Walmart where we resupplied, then back to the trail. Just Right and I just did 4 miles to the next shelter, which was also past the 1000 mile mark! At this point we could sing the "I could walk 500 miles" song, and not be lying.

Yet another picture of Pennsylvania. I promise this is a different location.

See! There's even dayhikers there!

Stats:
Mileage: 4.1 miles
Elevation change: trivial-none

Day 84 (September 5): Peaches!

I decided I'd had a couple nice and easy days, and I should really make up miles, maybe see if I couldn't catch Buns and Dayhiker. So I left early in the morning, and just started walking. I passed through the park we'd hiked through (but didn't go on any of the nice trails there), was sadly passed by trail runners at one point, and continued walking.

The same bridge Malia drove Just Right and I to yesterday.

I met Not So Bad, who was completing his Triple Crown (all three North-South USA Thru-hikes), and grew up within 5 miles of where I did in CA! I also met up with Peaches, who had hiked past me while I was off trail the day before. He and I caught up, and wound up setting up camp together. We camped near a.. distrubingly red/brown stream. But the water was cold, and tasted great, so it probably wasn't too bad.

During the night, we may or may not have had a bear check out our camp. My glasses were off, and Peaches headlamp batteries were dead. Regardless, all our food was there in the morning, so it was ok.

Stats:
Mileage: 23.0 miles
Elevation change: 1500 feet up, 1500 feet down

Day 85 (September 6): To Duncannon

I'd heard conflicting reports about The Doyle in Duncannon since New Hampshire, so decided I'd go there to stay the night. Peaches agreed.

Duncannon from afar. A beacon of civiliazation, showers, and warm food!

We made pretty decent time, though there was no water at most of the shelters we passed, we managed to find some and not die. At the end of the hike, we entered Duncannon, a small town by the side of a large river with an interstate near it. Duncannon has... seen better days. It appears to be a town which had an industry which died (I didn't actually go to a museum or anything there, so I don't know it's history). The Doyle is a once grand building that's fallen into disrepair.

On the bridge to Duncanon. Also Peaches!

Like the Port Clinton Hotel, it's a bar and restaurant on the first floor, and a place to stay above it. Unlike the Port Clinton Hotel, it's got pretty cool pillars, architecture, and grand staircases. Unlike the Port Clinton Hotel, it smells of smoke, the bathrooms have no ceiling tiles, there are several inches of dust under the beds, and there's no air conditioning. As my standards are "has somewhere softer than the ground for me to sleep and has a place for me to poop," it passed my standards with flying colors. It even had somewhat working wifi!

Stats:
Miles: 19.4
Elevation Change: 2000 feet down, 1000 feet up

Zero at the Doyle and Reunions (September 7)

The next day, I decided I'd take a short day and resupply, since I liked the Doyle and it was hot. As Peaches and I were sitting out on the porch, we saw Camp Shoes and Double Dip walk by. After enthusiastically greeting them, we managed to convince them to take a zero with us at the Doyle. Just Right, Sailor Moon, and Daytona also wound up coming and staying at the Doyle. We had a grand time chatting, eating absurd quantities of delicious and cheap food, attempting the half-gallon challenge (where you eat a half-gallon of ice cream in one sitting), and general comradery. Hiking was not accomplished, but a good time was had by all. We all promised we'd hike more the next day (well, aside from Sailor Moon... she had a wedding to attend).

Also, Just Right offered to share a laundry load with me. I, and everyone else, warned her that her clothing would smell worse if she washed it with my clothing in it. I was, however, willing to pay for the laundry detergent, so Just Right did that. She has now learned to trust the warnings of others.