TRAIL DAY 114
Mon, June 13, 2016 Another marvelous day “on the trail.” Breakfast was again in the ornate dining room, this time with a couple ending their weekend away. Of course, we got acquainted and I learned about their employment and they about my adventure. They took my email and I heard from them en route. It seems that many in or visiting the AT Village for a given season eventually move on to their other lives and we lose touch.
So it has been with Journeyman, PB, The Long Trail couple, the Vermont couple, the Maine-lobster couple, and, of course, hostel owners who are now on to the next “class” of thru-hikers. The “Class of 2016” is now history. Many, however, have returned to the mountains for a week or two, taken to the PCT (perhaps in search of the triple crown), or moved on to other adventures. My mountains this year are these pages and, in their own way, they take as much perseverance as the undulating trail in the wilderness.
David could not have been nicer. He took me to the vet and waited outside while I had the appointment with Theo. I had seen a crack on one of Theo’s paws and wanted to be sure we’d be OK. When we hiked The Horseshoe Trail in July of 2014, we did a lot of road walking on hot pavement through Hershey, Pennsylvania. I’ll never forget when a sporty, black convertible passed by. The driver took pity on us – mostly Theo – turned around, pulled over and held out two water bottles for us.
Theo just kept walking. However, when I stopped for a bite to eat, it was clear that he was having a problem. An examination of his front left paw showed me that the thick black covering of his largest pad was torn through down to the flesh. There was no way we were going to continue. Several calls eventually secured a ride from my daughter-in-law who drove 1½ hours with her 3 youngest to retrieve us.
I didn’t want any such issues for my friend this time. The vet saw the crack in the black and said all was well. No problem unless it goes down to the pink and then, put super glue in the space and cut a piece of moleskin the size of the affected pad and fasten it with super glue. I had all those goodies and was ready. In case I forget to say it, Theo’s paws carried him through Rocksylvania and the whole trail!
David then drove me to an urgent care doctor to get my ears checked out and waited again. Some fathers can’t find the time to do such things! What a dear man and what kindness he showed me.
The doctor was a fair distance west of town but this didn’t stop David. No, “Sorry, I’m too busy,” or “Just don’t have the time to drive that far,” or “I’m going to have to charge for gas.” No. He happily drove me there through southern Pennsylvania farmlands and back again.
Incidentally, I didn’t say that the night I arrived I could not find my bandana. I had lost one at the Colony House in Waynesboro, Virginia. I thought I left it in Yellow Truck’s big yellow truck but he said he searched and could not find it. Perhaps in Pennsylvania’s Waynesboro I had left it on the ground where David picked me up. He was happy to drive the 10 miles or so back to look for it and, voila!, there it was. And now, he was happy again to drive the 10 miles or so west to the doctor’s office – and wait for me.
No wax. Ears were fine. I was glad to “hear” that but there would be a hearing puzzle as time moved along.
Errands done, bill paid, David drove me back to the trail. He waved as I crossed the road from where he had picked me up 2 nights before. Soon I was on a long wide and straight trail through thick underbrush behind houses and eventually entered the woods that had become home.
Fortunately, the worst did not happen at a very strange hazard in the center of the trail.
In time I stopped for a late lunch at Antietam Shelter where two other hikers were set up for the night. I would eat and leave but not before we all got to know each other a little and share who we were, where we were from and what was going on in our lives at the time.
One of the shelter mates was a middle aged man with short white hair. He stayed a little on the periphery of the conversation I had with the younger fellow. He did, however, offer some general, friendly comments occasionally.
The younger man had an elaborate display of food items around him and he seemed to be taking considerable steps in preparing his meal. I asked if he was Jewish and he said he was. This fact led me to perhaps appearing like the wise old man of the group when I said that I had reflected on the trail from Georgia to here more than once that the SHEMA is, in my mind, the most brilliant thought in all of human history. One!
It is the hope of every marriage
The hope of every nation
The goal of every enterprise
The hope for the planet
The quest of every physicist
The pride of Judah
The hope of Christianity
From the “farewell discourse” in the Gospel of John: “That they might be one, as you and I are one, Father.”
One. May there be but one God, no matter how many paths to him. May we stress what we share and let our differences be like the colors of so many different leaves in the fall. How beautiful the 100-mile wilderness will be when I am there in October taking in mile after mile of gloriously colorful, rolling foothills viewed from on high. And don’t we all appear as one viewed from on high – don’t all our differences disappear?
Hear, O Israel: the LORD our God, the LORD is one.
There was a unity among thru-hikers. According to my notes in AWOL, I met several who shared the glory and struggles of the trail this day: “Tiel-Rabbit;” “Shadow;” “Soggy;” “Dog-Nero;” and “Animal.” They deserve mention – they are friends – fellow sojourners on the AT. We connected, exchanged names and went on our way.
I carried on to a place where several had set up camp for the night. It was tempting to join them at near 6:30 p.m. but I decided to move on a mile or so to the next shelter which proved to be the Taj Mahal. A “snoring” shelter and a “non-snoring” shelter. A well-stocked and entertaining privy (note the solar/lunar switch). I chose the non-snoring shelter which didn’t matter much because I was the only one there.
Both shelters were clean and of recent construction. Supper done and bed ready, I made a don’t-need-the-privy visit to Mother Nature and with my small pocket LED light I headed into some thick knee-to-waist-high growth behind the shelter. I held my mini, LED light in my hand as I moved through the brush until I found myself in the midst of eerie, silent creatures scurrying in rapid movements at my feet. They were unlike anything I had ever seen. I didn’t know what to make of it and stopped dead in my tracks. As soon as I stopped, they stopped. As I began to move, they moved.
These frightening creatures were the shadows of leaves that entered my light beam. My focus had been on the ground to see where I was going, not on the leaves. Because the leaves were waist high and lower, the slightest movement of the light in my hand caused a rapid sweeping movement of the shadows on the ground creating an eerie effect like some as yet unrecognized life form.
Day #114 Waynesboro PA > Tumbling Run Shelters 8.2 miles