Trail magic

Breakfast done, everybody gathers their gear, trying to think of a reason to take another zero day. Kitten says I will pass her by on the trail, but I disagree -- Snail here, you will pass me.

As it turns out, we pass each other several times. We talk about the northbounders praising the 501 Shelter. Skylight, rain cistern, and pizza delivery? Kitten wavers, hikes on. Bye, say hi to Springer Mountain for me!

I walk on. My ten mile fade mark is at the 501 Shelter, but maybe I should push on to the next shelter?

When I turn off the Trail to take care of biological necessities, I finish and turn to find an older couple looking at me from the Trail. I apologize, with smiles. District supervisors, it turns out. The man asks how I have found the Pennsylvania trails; I reply that I have enjoyed them, but, well, rocks ...

A few more ahead, he says, which makes me wince. Onward.

More recidivism

2:40, turn for 501. I could go on. I turn up the trail. 

Housekeeper greets me. Kitten is here, just stopping by, not staying. Pizza order, says Housekeeper? No, Kitten says, wavering ... I need to get past the Smokies before the snow starts. Here's an extra pack of apple cider mix, says Housekeeper, this hack of a gatorade bottle lets me listen to NPR orchestra downloads while I hike. You should Youtube that! I say. No, I'll be doing it at Trail Days, he says. 

Two High, Tom, and Ruby the eleven month dog come in bringing guitars. Fire, Housekeeper asks? We scramble for blowdown wood.

Everyone's fed, fire is going, two guitars and a crisp alcohol free evening. Kangaroo and Jupiter show up.

501 Shelter October 1, 2017

Serendipity, Dr. Christman's ghost whispers to me. New Orlean, forty eight years ago. Don Mclean, Beebe Hall, Ithaca. Christ the King, Norfolk. Bread and Roses, Oakland. Trans Siberian Orchestra, Newark, New Jersey. Dover Mountain warmup session, Delaware.

Magic times. Deo gratias.