Saturday, September 30, 2017

Rest & relaxation

Fun crowd filling the bunkroom last night, all southbound. U-turn and her father the Colonel, Barry the lawyer headed back to Chicago in his Ford Expedition. Stern-faced Squirrel, redbearded Wolfman, and Wild Child headed south toward Duncannon. Everyone raved about Jill's good cooking at dinner and a breakfast this morning, then packed up and left.

I put on scrubs, turned my laundry over to our hosts ($5 per smallish bag), and showered thoroughly in the plywood outdoor booth. Their hot water supply uses the direct-heating system we enjoyed in Japan decades ago; turn on the water, wait a minute, and you've got all the hot water you could ask for until the propane tank runs out. 

Today for me, another shopping foray, time to relace my shoes and let my toes heal a bit more. Another excellent dinner, another collection of thru and section hikers, and quickly into bed in the gathering chill. 

The next two nights on the ridge will be a chilly sleep, good test of the new sleeping bag. 

Life is so difficult


Friday, September 29, 2017

Managing my hiking environment

 Very lazy start this morning, making sure that Just Bob was well on his way before I hit the trail. That plus my zero day at Rock 'n Sole Hoatel should put enough distance between us that we won't become, as he said, "likw a small bubble floating south". Sorry, understand that you like having an audience, Bob, but ...

Fortunately, that the hostel owner's dog is apparently not trained fro drug detection, I can still smell traces of Bob's pipe smoke in my clothing. Craig, the hostel co-owner,  is a recently retired state police commander and a staunch Republican. We'll get by.

Wishing there was a way to save these fern covered woodland fields fron the invasiive stiltgrss coming in on hikers's boots. Too late now.

Another friendly visitor this morning.


Shopping run this evening for boot laces and Next trail day is Sunday, October 1.


Thursday, September 28, 2017

Recidivist Rocks

Out of the hotel a bit too quickly this morning, leaving behind a tarp and some of the few clothes I have that will not send people upwind of me. Sigh.

Almost perfect hiking weather today, mild temperatures, brisk winds to keep the bugs grounded. The Trail had some long sections with severely misaligned rocks again, but I managed to get over them without incident. 

Biggest challenge today was finding the Trail! I wandered the streets of Port Clinton to find the way across the Little Schuykill, then another part of the town to get across the (bigger?) Schuykill, then to find the AT trailhead. The latter was conveniently located in an active railroad switching yard, pointed out to me by a genial engineer who was clearly used to AT acolytes.


Perfectly obvious where the trailhead is



"You know how to cross a track?" he asked.

"I do! Check both ways for moving trains, stand facing along the line of the rail, step across one foot at a time without placing my foot on the rail. Thank you!"





I am dining by firelight tonight with two fellow southbounders and a local. Life is really good, and the rocks on this side of the state aren't that much more difficult than some of Virginia's trails.





Wednesday, September 27, 2017

Rocking into Port Clinton


Hiking plan did not seem challenging enough for today, so I turned the wrong way and walked downhill for half a mile first.

Ecology note -- the fields of invasive stiltgrass brought in on hikers' boots and replacing the forest ferns have one big groups of supporters. Gnats have taken over the airspace above the stiltgrass and keep close surveillance on every inch of any passers-by, including daring ear canal approaches and suicidal dives into eyelids and nasal passages. Walking through the waves of stiltgrass encroaching on the Trail, one has to wonder how the timber rattlers feel about all this.

In spite of improved rock arrangement and modestly reduced temperatures, trail conditions were the most difficult. I gave up on plans to stagger another mile north to the hikers' pavilion and registered at the Port Clinton Hotel for the night.

Some photos from the last few days



View from the Pinnacle

Some more orderly rocks

Somewhat like the Strawberry Mtn scree slope

Appalachian view

Bridge installed by local hiking club- steel beams!
Tomorrow, across the Susquehanna and onward!

Tuesday, September 26, 2017

Well Stacked Rocks

Two more first time social events for me on the Trail this morning. First (hopefully only), eating breakfast with two SOBO hikers while they medicated up  for the day: bootleg antibiotics, "vitamin I", and a bowl of marijuana. One of them was definitely old enough to know better. Chronologically speaking, at least.

Second, meeting a black woman of my age who stayed in the shelter last night. There's hope for diversity on the Trail yet!

The climb to the Pinnacles was less difficult than I expected. Trail surfaces were mostly free of rock scrabble and a layer of cirrus cloud reduced the trail heat load. The Pinnacles were definitely the best use of Pennsylvania Rock I've seen to date, nicely layered and stacked. Magnificent views, well worth the climb.

I met a woman with a full backpack and daughter who identified as a 2013 NOBO. She was taking her daughter up to the Pinnacles to see the sunrise. Good parenting, yes?

Near the Pinnacles, confirmation of my suspicions; here's one place where they collect the rocks to put on the trails 

My intended shelter site to end this day is in extreme disrepair, smelling of an overflowing privy. I continued on to a  tent site next to a stream, no problem. 

Wait, the purifying filter has clogged and will not backflush! Easily resolved, I switched to my backup bottle of chlorine tablets. 

That's how I keep moving. Tomorrow, Port Clinton, Thursday the Rock & Sole Hostel for two days' R&R.

Monday, September 25, 2017

Rox Redux

One degree cooler today, so I hiked 1/90 better ... for about four hours. Then it was time to stop.
View from Dan's Pulpit was impressive.




Quick solar shower at Eckville Shelter (guess why it was quick!) Up and down for the next two days, when I will reach Port Clinton and the shores of the Schuylkill.

Sunday, September 24, 2017

Torrid Rocks

I celebrated completing the Lehigh Gap section last night with a NY strip steak dinner and some cheery conversation with one of the owner's lifelong friends. Said friend was needling Ken by disapproving of his new girlfriend, declaring that someone who was almost sixty and had been through a divorce and a bad breakup should reconsider his priorities ... Ken and said girlfriend Amy gave back as good as they took; I enjoyed the show for a while, and then withdrew to my room by 8:30. Too tired to pack up, I set the alarm for an early wakeup and fell asleep.
Different from the scree in Oregon

Wait, the trail goes where?
Ken looked a little disheveled at 8 in the morning, and was surprised to find me packed up and ready for breakfast. Amy joined him later to help him work out my bill and to keep my coffee cup full. He told me that after twenty-one years, he is ready to sell the restaurant and move on. Likewise, he says, she is ready to quit teaching. 

They haven't decided where they are going yet, though. I wish them well.

With a forecast high in the low nineties, I planned to climb quickly to the next shelter/spring and go to ground before the mid day heat set in. In spite of the stone-covered trail, I made good time to the shelter. Tent site, check, bear bag hanging tree, check, privy, check. Half a mile downhill, though, the spring was dry. 

So I walked on, sipping from my dwindling water supply and taking long breaks in shaded areas. 

A trio of local hikers who I met yesterday near Knife Edge came up as I was standing in a cool grove. As he trudged by, the one whose trail name is Slug observed that it had taken a longer time to catch up with a Snail than they expected.  

What could I say? Yesterday was a good day for Snails. They forged onward, I rested a while longer.

Shortly after noon, I made it to the trail turn leading downhill to Dan's Spring. Third time the charm? It was! I filtered and hauled water back up to the ridge, and set camp.

Hunter orange is suddenly very fashionable on the trail, and the woods are echoing with rifle shots as the apex predators prepare for the season's opening in two weeks. I'll be wearing my orange vest, and putting an orange rain cover over my pack.

Saturday, September 23, 2017

Rocks, rocked

How much stuff does a man need? That is, really need, enough to carry it on a dash through boulder-strewn country before sunset? Sort, check ... too heavy, try again.

Enough. Ready as I'll ever be, off to the other side of Lehigh Gap. Ken's banter on the way over has an underlying theme of tips for the hike, concerns about my ability to do it. Well, yes, but I have a headlamp if it takes more than ten hours, and a ceĺl phone if I need to call for a pickup.

The climb up the west side is gentler than the eastern cliff, and I average two and a half mph up to the ridge rubble. Yes, more rocks.





Bake Oven Knob at noon lives up to its name, but my water supply holds out.

Skipping along the tops of the boulders in the trail is easier than yesterday because the rocks are larger and flatter, more like the arroyo boulders that my sister Laurie and I used to scramble over in Arizona during our childhood. Still, ankles, calves, and toes grow sore.

A quick lunch, and up onto the rock pile known as the Knife's Edge.  Some overzealous person has painted the white blazes for us to follow along the very top of that edge, which makes progress interesting.

Balancing on narrow rock ledges being an issue, I was glad that my pack weight was below 30 pounds.




In the end, I finished fifteen miles of rocky trail in seven hours. I count that as a personal victory!

Tomorrow, westbound again with a full pack. Goal: Port Clinton and crossing the Schuylkill River on September 27th.

Thursday, September 21, 2017

Back and forth

"You can fold your sticks for the first part," John said,"you won't need them. Gloves, yes, sticks, no."

"Gloves I've got," I replied. Ha, more of Pennsylvania's signature trail features? So, I climbed.

Lehigh River

Okay, follow the blazes


Follow them where?

West side of the Gap - not today!

Raider, the SOBO hiker who got me headed the right direction, decided to leave Indy with John and his two Dobermans for a few days off trail. She asked me for a text report on how the dog was doing that evening, and I agreed to do so, with reservations. 

Personally, I would  be a bit slower to board my dog with a new acquaintance. John seems an intensely honest person, but sometimes very casual about his stewardship, My text message will, I think, only be a small fig leaf for the owner's concerns about five days of boarding with him.

As part of my preparations for the slackpacking hike from the Lehigh River back to Kunkletown, I went through my pack to weed out any unnecessary weight that I could leave with John Stempa. Tent, pad, and bag? Leave. Food? Lunch only. Emergency phone and GPS? Keep. First aid and snakebite kit? KEEP.

Water weight? A careful tradeoff decision between backpack burden and hiking with a tongue trying to stick to thr roof of one's mouth. I chose to take only 1 1/4 liter, about a third of my usual load. Part of my plan was to resupply at the spring my host had located, developed, and submitted to the AT guidebooks. 

After clawing my way up the east side of Lehigh Gap today, I followed the Trail past warning signs and aged barriers surrounding the valley-wide 1983 Superfund site near Palmerton. 


Zinc containment ridges to the north

From the top of the southern containment ridge

The production mill


Editorial comment follows. For more travel tales, please skip ahead. 

Every generation has people who make honest tries at solving problems created by the previous one, it seems, and winds up leaving new problems behind. It seems to me that our early 70s era wave took the environmental remediation movement and to a great degree made it happen for the USA -- not to say the efforts were perfect, complete, or even parrtially reversed those efforts, but the way ahead is clear.  Similarly, the desperate use of the mutual assured destruction paradigm to hold terror weapons in balance as the world evolved to its current multilateral condition with our support at Reykjavik and elsewhere. 
Are there terrible flaws in the world we are turning over to our grandchildren? Yes -- Chernobyl comes to mind -- but there are many things we have at least temporarily put to rest. 
Okay, enough editorial rambling.

After I had walked a few miles more, the trail surface grew rocky again. That made foot placement as I was trying to keep up a reasonable pace, and the care I was taking kept me from stepping on a nonvenomous and not especially agressive black snake! 

Not the best snake photo ever taken
Not actually needed, but I was glad to have the snakebite kit along. Since it also has arrangements for suctioning spider venom, my thoughts also turned to it when one of several full facial spiderweb treatments turned out to have a live occupant. How do the trail runners doing thirty miles a day deal with this sort of thing?

Water turned into a more difficult problem, a recurring one for me. When I found the trail down to Stempa's Spring, my reserve was down to about six ounces, and half of that I sipped away during the half mile boulder strewn descent ... to another dry spring. Welcome to Pennsylvania's autumn trails.

Fortunately, John was able to guide me the rest of the way down the mountain by phone. He picked me up from a forest road, we returned to his house, and I washed the difficult parts of the day with a hot shower and another fine dinner at the Kunkeltown Pub,.

Life is unpredictable some days, but I just keep moving. Good times are always just over the hill.

Wednesday, September 20, 2017

Time out to regroup

Ruminating while I topped off on water this morning, 4 and a half liters to make it to the next known water source. Another hiker pointed out the "emergency" spring in the Superfund area, saying that everyone drinks from it, high metal content or not.

The advantage of memories from 25 years ago is that we know what time filtered water can do to your health and we don't want to go back and do that again. So we take the time to filter, we skip the sites that were polluted fifty years ago, we avoid the shelter where a hiker was killed by a falling branch.  

All that's a disadvantage, though, as things change. The water we are looking at might be clean, the trees may all be trimmed (they were, actually). A person without those memories can forge ahead with life, drink, save time, and enjoy more. No reason to weigh yourself down with extra water, there's more at Stempa Springs.

This would have given me a good step-off point to get by the Superfund site, if I had found it. 

Have I mentioned the full facial spidersilk treatments?

After I went by the GPS location twice, I surrendered to my limits; time to go off in replan. Trail shuttle operator John Stempa responded eagerly to my call, and offered some space in his garage. Time to step off trail and reset.



Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Rocked again, repeatedly

Up late this morning, expecting a short hike to the next water source. Bivouacs put me on water rationing immediately, cold dinner and a trail bar breakfast,  and restrained use of my usual 2 liter hiking water supply. All these steps let me stretch one day’s water to cover two, but take away much of my strength for the afternoon.

Some of the millipedes crawling the bivouac site tried to hitch a ride on my tarp and in my boots, but I kicked them off, explaining that I was already over my optimum pack weight. I turned west (to go south on the AT, and stepped off into the fog.

When I met the first person I saw on the Trail today, we determined that I was headed back to Wind Gap, and had added two miles to the nearest southbound spring. (The Beer Design tavern was closer, but I successfully resisted temptation once again.)

Trail surface of embedded small rocks, many platelike and embedded on end with their points up to catch unwary travelers. The heavy Vasque bootw have done a  good job of limiting my score so far: two blisters, one no-injury fall.

I also saw my first  live viper on the AT! It was about for inches long, definitely a triangular jaw, and racing for cover under the rocks before I could take a photo or even guess its species. Timber rattler, probably.

The spring was four hundred feet downhill from the shelter. A hunter cheerily told me he had drank from the screen unpurified for years without ill effect; I thanked him for his advice, and went ahead with my usual process.

Tomorrow, 7 miles to another “unreliable” spring, followed by a ten mile day. I will carry extra water again. This section has a reputation for being difficullt, and zi am feeling good about continuing to make my way through it.

Although, I do regret missiing Beer Designs.

Monday, September 18, 2017

Rocked

planned ten hours of hiking today, expecting to stop at far less -- but there were no obvious ways better than getting out on the Trail and going as far as I could go. Carrying extra water made it even more of a challenge, even more than the notorious rock scree covering or embedded in this section of the AT which lived up to its billing as tedious and slow going.

Very happy to have my heavy Vasque™ boots on. I could still feel the rock edges I stepped on and winced every time my boot toe did not quite clear another stone -- but I did not want to imagine how that would feel in trail runners, or even the ultralight boots.

One of the young southbounders was not fazed, though. “Ice” chatted with me a bit in the evening, explained that her trail name recalled some time she spent with her ankle packed in ice, and also, her boyfriend’s trail name is Soda, so, you know ….

We happened to step out on the trail at the same time this morning, but I reminded her of my trail name (“Snail”) and suggested she go on ahead. After a few minutes, she looked back to give me a cheery farewell and strolled away at more than half again my pace.

Several local hikers were on the Trail, some of whom were doing what was taking me two daya as a day hike. Dock shoes, club casual slacks, and a couple of ten ounce water bottles … I suppose I should have said something, but carrying those stone tablets down the mountain gets tiring after a few decades.

With three miles to go, my energy fading, and Wind Gap to cross (400’ down, 400’ up), plus no campsites ahead, I  had to decide. Struggle up the slope and camp on the ridge, or come off the trail for the night? I chose to climb out of the Gap and bivouac at the top rather than walking into town for a discount motel room and dinner at a place named “Beer Designs” (Here’s a measure of how priorities change; given the hour, a key factor was that I would have to climb back up the mile from town.)

While I was counting myself up the switchbacks, mind struggling over wailing matter, I heard someone behind say, “Excuse me, Mister Snail, may I pass by?”

Mister Snail? I turned around and exclaimed “Ice! How did you get behind me?”

“Well, you know, that last bit was pretty tiring, so I thought I would go into town and buy some resupplies …” she paused and put on a guilty smile, “and then l thought I might have a coffee, so I did.” Her look turned defiant, don't you dare tell me that a true thru hiker wouldn't do that!

“A good idea, yes?” Didn't account for three hours it would have taken for my to get ahead of her, though.

“At, you know, the Dunkin Donuts store?”

“Of course! And then they have fine sandwiches there, and smoothies … and even ...donuts?”

“Oh, they looked delicious, but I didn’t have any of those! I had two of the big pretzels instead, and then I was ready for the Trail again.”

“Well, please give my regards to everyone in you tramily, I’m too wornout to make it to the shelter tonight. I'm going to stop and bivouac at the top.” Exchanging good wishes, we parted ways as she flew up the slope I was forcing my legs to climb, her trail runners still in excellent condition.

Not likely to see any of them again.



Sunday, September 17, 2017

Cloudwalking

Up early this morning, gathering my gear and taking it outside as quietly as I could manage. The mildew smell had not been as difficult for sleeping as I was afraid it might, but sleep did not come easy.

The half dozen southbound collegians and their dogs did not stir as I slipped out to make breakfast on the patio.

There was a fellow driving down the alley next to the church who stopped and greeted me. Assuming he was the caretaker, I walked over and asked if he was in charge of this excellent place. He refused intensely, saying he was too sinful a man for that role ... which led to a spirited and positive chat about faith, evil, redemption, and the difference between love and lust. Heavy stuff before the first morning tea.

Up one block, right turn -- first white blaze, on a telephone pole. A heavy morning fog blocked any view of the ridges and made a steam bath of the mild heat. The easy walk up a fire road grew steeper, and the tread gave over to the infamous rocks of Pennsylvania.

Pennsylvania Rocks

















Saturday, September 16, 2017

A less than positive start

Riding a bus towards Scranton as I write this.

Bittersweet memories overwhelmed me this morning as Kirsten drove me through western Maryland (recalling the evening at Elk Neck State Park when our family encountered a large herd of deer grazing on open pasture), through Churchman’s Marsh (a regular source of emergency response income for all of the volunteer rescue stations in the area, including the one in Claymont that started my son’s career seventeen years -- seventeen? yes -- ago) to Philadelphia and the 30th Street Station.

Photos here were retieved online; mine did not turn out.


Less than organized start this morning, waking up at 2 and deciding to rearrange items in my pack. It is still not ready for the trail, but I plan to work on it when I reach the hostel this evening.

Intentionally left behind: the inReach satellite communicator, which has some  unresolved conflict with the company’s host server, and my leaking primary Platypus water bladder, which I tried unsuccessfully to patch yesterday. Fortunately, I have a backup. Unintentionally almost left behind: my spare pair of hiking pants, discovered patiently waiting to be loaded when I was repacking at 2. What else have I forgotten?

News reports say Hurricane José is heading northwest, threatening to go ashore in New Jersey. That may delay my hike, or even cancel it .... Shikata kanai, nothing I can do except keep an eye on the weather as I am hiking.

The Schuylkill Expressway north out of Philadelphia provoked more memories with its usual traffic jams across from Wissahickon and Conshohocken. Northbound, again.

Friday, September 15, 2017

Warmup on the Ambassador Whitehouse Trail

The pack weighed in at 42 lbs, including water ... it seems to have put on some weight since the Strawberry wilderness hike as well.  We'll burn it off in a couple of days.

Combining tasks, I did an all-up dress rehearsal four mile loop today that included the short trail I co-oversee for the club, and checked on the condition of the bench that Barbara and John built for the scenic overlook.
More visitors appreciating the bench at Paris Overlook

The head says, okay, we can still do this (the eyes may say otherwise), the legs scream "not again!", and the heart say "okay, if we have to, let's do it, we'll feel good about it afterwards"

Kirsten will drive me north to Philadelphia at dawn Saturday, and  I will take a five hour bus ride from there to the Delaware Water Gap.  Sunday, I plan to head south, aiming for the Blue Mountain Summit in a week.  Internet access? Doubtful.


Sunday, September 10, 2017

Outbound

The Pennsylvania section of the Appalachian Trail begins at the Delaware Water Gap, where the river has chewed through some old stone to create some impressive cliffs -- on the New Jersey side, fortunately, so I will not be climbing them until next year.

Westbound, though, goes over the storied sixty mile long boulder field on the way to Port Clinton. Five days out, I plan to stop at the Blue Mountain Lodge, recover and resupply before continuing.


"Puff", the owner — self named after his 70s-era 'do, abandoned some years ago "when it got a little patchy" — cautioned me that the Chris Dean band would be in full swing when I arrived. So, I need to save some energy to enjoy the rhythm and blues ... here's the band's website.

https://www.reverbnation.com/thechristopherdeanband

Then, on to cross the Schuykill at Port Clinton, wander through some State Game Lands with my orange vest and backpack cover on, cross the Susquehanna at Duncannon, slip through the Harrisburg-Carlisle urban maze, and stop at Pine Grove Furnace Park for the legendary Ice Cream Challenge.

Weather is a big concern; I am counting on another extended Indian summer this year. Hopefully, the stuff falling from the sky will stay liquid!

I plan to leave Virginia on Saturday the 16th, and return before the 15th of October.