Date: 2011-06-26
From: St. Thomas Episcopal Church, Vernon NJ

To: Wildcat Shelter
Miles today: 17.0
Weather: broken clouds

(In which I enter New York and say a tearful goodbye to New Jersey. Wait, that's not tears...)Humpty Dumpty, Craig, Henrick and I eat breakfast at the local diner, then catch a ride back to the trail from a guy with a pickup truck in the parking lot. We are gradually perfecting the art of getting rides by way of striking up conversations with strangers in parking lots, and the skill pays off. Humpty Dumpty and I stop off at the creamery by the trail for a milkshake each before we start the climb out of Vernon. Weighing myself at the hotel I was pleased to discover that my weight is up to an all-time high of 120 lbs, a swing of 11 lbs from my early trail low, giving me another reason to be thankful for the slow train and frequent town stops.Around lunch time Captain Planet, Craig, Henrick and I reach the New York / New Jersey state line trail. Delighted to be out of Jersey, I stand on the New York side and piss over onto Jersey to give it a final goodbye. Only after our lunch break do we realize that the actual state line is a few hundred yards further, and I have to make do with spitting across the real line.Craig, who has been hiking with an ankle brace for most of the trip after a sprained ankle, turns his other, formerly good ankle. Once he determines that he can hike we continue on, and despite a few grunts of pain, Craig stays in good spirits. "Hikers are some of the happiest, quietest, miserable people," Capt. Planet observes. It takes me a moment to realize that he means that we suffer quietly and find enjoyment and humor in what would otherwise be miserable situations, but I also like the more literal interpretation of his discription, which I think is accurate in its contradictions. I speculate that the ability to keep one's chin up through difficult days may be because the people who don't have this type of personality have mostly dropped out by now, and Capt. Planet agrees.Before the shelter the trail passes three tenths of a mile by another creamery, so we all stop for some ice cream, milkshakes and people watching. The more northern we get the closer we seem to be getting to civilization (a trend unlikely to continue all the way to Maine), and though the trail no longer has the same isolated, alone-in-the-woods character, we all agree that this is more than made up for by the frequent availability of food.At the shelter most hikers decide to tent and I walk around examining the different models on display. Though my tent has performed admirably every night but one, one wet night is enough for me to start considering alternatives. Big Agnes tents seem to be the most popular on the trail this year, and I make a note to research them more when I have the internet time. I set up in my tent for the first time since the flood, and though I wiped it off as well as I could at the inn, it still holds the dried mud memories of its ordeal. It's a light, spacious tent, and the addition of a separate bathtub might be enough to make it weather ready I suspect, but this idea too needs internet research.Tomorrow will likely be my first day in the past several without any town food, and though I would not have minded keeping the streak alive, I look forward to finally making a dent in the weight of the food bag I filled up in PA.