Date: 2017-08-05
From: Highway 94 and Appalachian Motel

To: New Jersey high point
Miles today: 19.6
Weather: broken clouds

From that note on the trail, to the chatter of northbounders, I guess I am in rattlesnake country. Which should I fear more, the 1-foot baby or the 3-foot adult? The answer is the baby. Nearly 80% of all adult rattlesnake bites are ¢dry,¢ no venom injected. And adults have enough rattles to make noise. Babies can¢t control their venom yet, look innocent (if any snake can) and don¢t give a loud warning.The same holds true for my worst AT concern, the #%*@#% ticks! The big eraser-sized dog tick, large enough to give you the heebie-jeebies, nearly never carries the parasite that causes Lyme disease. The pinhead-sized deer tick, and its baby nymph form that¢s smaller still, are the ones to be feared. I had a nymph on my ankle yesterday. I tweezered it off and put the remains in a ziplock bag for me to look at under a 12x magnifying glass when I get my bounce box in three days. In the meantime, I took a single cautionary dose of Doxycyclin. Sigh.But it¢s supposed to be cooler today. And last night I slept in a soft motel bed. When I opened the door from my room, everything was wet - rain.  I walked off, umbrella in hand, because that¢s what we do. But I got lucky, and if this day has a theme that¢s it ¢ lucky. The overcast sky holds off, then is rent with slices of blue, the only drops on my head when the wind shakes the trees free of their wet burden. I hike two miles-long sections that are not just flat, but nearly billiard-table flat. The first includes the ¢New Jersey Turnpike,¢ nearly a mile of elevated boardwalk. What, are we in Atlantic City? http://www.trailjournals.com/j... By noon, I had covered nearly 12 miles. Now don¢t get me wrong, it¢s still work, but those miles of Bonneville-Salt-Flats-level trail were also out in the open, full sun, and a part of me felt like this was an on-trail zero day.Just past noon I veered a short 0.4 miles off trail, crossing from New Jersey back into New York and into quaint Uniondale. I sauntered into the two-aisle country store market and scored today¢s New York Times. On the PCT, a country store like this would likely have only a local weekly advertiser paper. Here on the AT, it¢s the New York Times, which I carried over to Annabelle¢s Pizza, where I ordered two big slices of pizza and garlic knots. Here I am, in the middle of a 20-mile day, eating fried bread balls slathered in garlic, reading the New York Times on Annabelle¢s front porch.On the way back to the trail I stopped in the store and bought an ice cream drumstick, which I munched and licked for a half mile down the trail. Some northbounders I passed even reported my ¢ice cream hiking¢ to Dot and Franky later in the day.And then 4 miles later, with 4 miles left to go, I follow a sign off trail ¢water 100 yards.¢ But the sign didn¢t say donkeys. Cute, adorable, letting you hug them and scratch behind their ears, three-foot-tall donkeys. They were next to a well, and three northbounder ladies had already named them Gertrude and ____ (Frodo: Some name that definitely starts with an M and looks like MoLun. Sorry, that¢s the best I can do!) They were petting-zoo tame. http://www.trailjournals.com/j...(Frodo: Here's a random photo of the trail Scout sent me for today:  http://www.trailjournals.com/j...  )The last four miles did involve some climb and I blew by the next shelter to move on a half mile to the New Jersey high point. There¢s an elevated platform reachable by two flights of stairs and I even thought, ¢I could cowboy camp up here. The breeze will keep away the bugs and the view will be amazing.¢ On the PCT, Frodo and I cowboy camped 60% of the nights, on our groundcloth under the open sky and stars. On the AT I haven¢t yet. Too buggy, too rainy, and with a green tunnel nearly everywhere, why bother?  But there were two groups of local day hikers on the platform at 6:00 pm when I climbed up. I moved on and set up my tent a third of a mile away. In a green tunnel. I ate my dinner. I started to wind up my journal entry. I was in my sleep clothes in my bag.At 8:30 I checked my phone and turned it off airplane mode. There was a text from Dot. ¢Scout, where are you?¢ Then, ¢We are at the New Jersey high point.¢ Were they cowboy camping? On the platform? Yes! ¢Scout, come join us.¢ But my tent¢s up. I¢m tucked in. It¢s deep-shadow dusk.But why am I out here? I pack up willy-nilly, cram my tent body unfolded into my pack. I make my way back with my headlamp, back the way I had come. Near the platform I turn it off and creep quietly up the stairs.  ¢Scout!¢ Dot cries, ¢You came!¢ Can I tell you what joy it is, to see them again, to have taken this ¢second chance¢ to sleep on the platform. The moon is near full, brilliant. We see fireworks off in the distance, booming an echo off these cliffs. The two of them giggle and laugh. I feel triumphant.¢Dot, it¢s your fault I¢m not done with my journal yet.¢ There was this whole last chapter to add. How many shooting stars will I see? What will the sunrise look like?What a night!