TRAIL DAY 134
Sun, July 3, 2016 No bears. Retrieved my undisturbed food from a tree at the back-right end of the camping area. My fellow campers likely did not hang and they were fine. At 6:09 a.m., they were still sound asleep. As I ate and packed they made their way to their comfortable, light-weight, mesh chairs. It would be a rare thru-hiker to carry one of these but for a weekend in the woods, why not?
A rocky road indeed starting out and then a pine-forested trail over soft needles as if to congratulate us for the distance we’d come over less welcoming terrain. At some distance off the high, grassy trail, in a sparsely forested area, I got out my lunch and relaxed as Theo did the same. After lunch, we traversed a long, high, slightly mounded section through thin forests with ferns, grasses and blueberries. I passed a gentleman sitting off the trail who knew the blueberry season and was taking a rest from his annual harvest.
As we continued on our way, I had my first encounter with moths! It must have been their time of year. Time to claim their independence from the larval stage, happy for freedom in flight.
The trail continued down from the ridge through very thin new growth to the George W. Outerbrige Shelter off to the west. I stopped here just to remove our packs for a bit and then return. While there I noted graffiti that I was glad to read:
Only the mountain has lived long enough to listen objectively to the howl of the wolf – Aldo Leopold
Sometimes it’s painful but I love to be stretched and words and woods that stretch me.
AWOL noted “Brenda” for a shuttle pick-up. I called. She directed me to a good pick-up spot across the Lehigh River. I would stay at “Bert’s Restaurant” also known as “Bert’s Stakehouse.” Sounds inviting, doesn’t it? The restaurant was closed and the hostel was in the rear in a dimly lit, long garage with a concrete floor. I found a bed or cot at the near end in a dark corner. At the other end was a garage door partially open to let in some light.
A guy and a gal had separate cots down by the half-opened door. An in-his-50s-kinda hiker had a cot perpendicular and very close to mine. In his absence, I moved his trekking poles so I could walk in the narrow space between our cots. When he returned, I told him what I had done and he was upset, saying something like, “I don’t like anyone touching my things.” I responded with a firm comment something like, “Sorry friend, but I have to be able to move.” My delivery had an air of suck it up, dude! He did.
On the morrow, I would hear another comment of an entirely different type.
There was an enclosed-but-outside shower at the back of the restaurant at the foot of fire escape stairs to the second level of the building. It was well enough appointed with soap and shampoo to provide a delightful experience. Always nice to get a hot, soapy shower when you’ve been on the trail for a few days whether you need it or not. Yea, right!
I’d heard of the Twelve Tribes (of Israel), a cult with several locations in New England. This would be my first exposure to their offerings: a dog-eared, 4-page typed sheet by someone who starts off admiring the AT thru-hikers, assuming their journey to be a very difficult and worthy of her respect. She goes on to say that she, too, has had a difficult journey in life because she is a prophet who calls herself Silent Grace. After a long discussion about evil spirits and their work in the world, she identifies herself as the Bride of Christ and concludes, after referring to hikers as seekers after truth, “go deep and find Him yourself.” She states further:
Like I said, Jesus is awesome and He loves all people and is willing to help anyone who will support me now.
Several lines above she claims:
If you don’t support me, you are basically turning down His aid and you will burn.
I took a picture of these pages and just now read them. I will have a few experiences with the Twelve Tribes later and I encountered nothing like this spirit in its members. Nowhere in papers she left at the garage, does she make reference to the Twelve Tribes and she may have no connection to them at all.
Palmerton was not a bustling place. It was the 4th of July weekend and the place was virtually dead. I did manage to locate the Palmerton Hotel for dinner preceded by Gin on the rocks followed by a burger, fries and a beer. Then a walk back up the long, straight main street of town to Bert’s and bed.
Day #134 Bake Oven Knob Shelter > Bert’s (Palmerton) 7.8 miles