Date: 2004-07-09
From: Past Fingerboard Shelter

To: Milford Plaza, Manhattan
Miles today: 20.5

Waking up on a rock in the cool morning air, to a gorgeous sunrise was mighty fine. The deer grazed within spitting distance as we had a granola bar and packed up. It's fairly certain we got an early start, after all we needed water for breakfast. There's a note in my Thru-hiker's Handbook that says ¢yogi ¢ heat miser¢. Now I remember. About 3 miles from our camp we stopped at a footbridge to get some water and thus have our breakfast. Heat Miser came by and offered us some food like granola bars or something. He must have been getting off the trail soon. A yogi off another thru-hiker is rare but hey it was food and we were running low. By 10:15am we were at William Brien Memorial Shelter. There were still some local folks there packing up. We checked out the journal and moved on.By 11:30am we were crossing the Palisades Parkway. This is a road I have been traveling since I was a kid growing up in New Jersey. There are memories of the sign at the AT crossing that go way back for this guy and have always sparked the imagination. Walking across here was a bit momentous for me. It required a pause and a double take. The imaginings would be real from now on. Savor the moment.We hiked together today. It was not a conscious decision. It never was. Things were about to change and we both knew it but not to what extent. I really wanted to stop off in a little trail town known as Manhattan. OK, so it's not so little and it's not really a trail town but it was only about 30 miles away. I typically get there once or twice a year to see some theatre. How cool would it be to drop by on a 2000 mile hike. It just had to happen. Besides, this would only be my second zero day.Getting there was the challenge. In a couple of days the trail would pass the AT Train Station but the train only stops on the weekends and it would be mid week when I got there. So my thought was that there must be a bus from the lodge at Bear Mountain State Park. We'd be there this afternoon.The other piece of the puzzle was that Buick, though a Canadian citizen, had actually grown up in Connecticut where his folks still live. His plan was to be picked up by his folks when he got to CT. Then he would be joined by some guys from is old Scout Troop to hike the Connecticut section of the trail. They would certainly not be moving at our speed. Therefore I would catch up to them. Buick figured I would just pass them by but with my history leading Voyageur adventures at Scout Camp it only seemed right that I would simply join them.At any rate, as I said, things were likely to change, just not quite yet. Perhaps that's why we hiked together today, a sort of subconscious farewell hike. We continued to hike toward the summit of Bear Mountain.I can recall going to a ski meet there to watch the ski jumpers with my dad and brother when I was a little kid. The trail dumped us out on a road that wound it's way to the top. I hate road walking. For some reason it is just way harder than trail walking. It's hard to say whether it is the sameness of each step not giving the muscles enough variety or if it's the variety for the mind that's missing. Any way, It was good to have company here as a distraction. The road was under construction which minimized the traffic. That was good since it was a narrow windy road with no shoulder to walk.The summit of Bear Mountain had a big stone tower on it which was closed for some construction or something. This was obviously a big tourist attraction with benches and picnic tables all around. The view from the tower must be grand. The only water was in bottles from a vending machine.The 2/3s point on the trail was only about 60 miles ahead, another 2 or 3 days, just inside Connecticut but we would not be together to celebrate. This troubled me. So this seemed like a good place to have our customary chocolate pudding and with the aid of the bottled water from the vending machine that's what we did.Buick was headed for Graymoor Friary tonight and if NYC didn't work out so was I. The word was that if a thru-hiker signed up by 4:30pm they would get a free dinner at 5:30pm. This had been a driving force early this morning but now, leaving the summit at 3:30pm, the idea seemed a bit unlikely. Oh well.In less than 2 miles the trail, winding with the old access road, delivered us past the old ski jump and onto the lush lawns that led to the lodge and Hessian Lake. I searched out the main entrance to the lodge and asked at the desk about a bus to NYC. The reply was a stunning, ¢Oh, it left 10 minutes ago.¢ Oh my gosh. To have missed it was one thing but after 1,387 miles by random chance to miss it by 10 minutes was hard to comprehend. Granted, I hadn't even know if there was a bus. This was amazing. The woman with the bad news was nice enough and told me of train stations that were near by but didn't know how to get to one without a car. I staggered back outside and commiserated briefly with Buick.Bear Mountain State Park:Of course there was still the trail so we went in search of white blazes and ice cream amongst hundreds if not thousands of tourists. It was really quite bizarre for a couple of thru-hikers. Soon the blazes revealed themselves and led us along the lake by the beaches and picnic tables. It was late after noon and the place was swarming with barbecues, Frisbees and families. The ethnic mix was tremendous. It was like a day at the beach or park or actually for these folks that's exactly what it was. Crazy.It's unclear whether it was a Mom or a kid who first asked where we were going as we trekked past their picnic. We glanced at each other and said Maine. They looked confused. Soon the entire family, mom, dad, 3 kids, maybe an aunt and uncle or 2 were looking at us blankly. Then came the questions and answers. It went something like this:Hikers: We're hiking the Appalachian Trail.Family: Where did you start?Hikers: Georgia.Family: And you're going to Maine?Hikers: That's right.Family: Well, where is it?Hikers: The Trail? It's right here. See that white paint mark on that tree. That's a blaze.Family: No.Hikers: Really.Family: Do you want something to eat. Come, sit down. Join us.This was a yogi of the best kind. Not just the food, but we opened these folks eyes to a whole different dimension on their world. From the glint in his eye, it appeared that at least one of the little kids had been inspired. Who knows what will become of any of it but there was plenty of good will between this American family with African roots from Brooklyn and the thru-hikers of Canada and New Hampshire. This story will probably be told by them as often as it is by us.We found the next white blaze and moved on with a bag of chips thrust into my hand and something else in Buick's. We also grabbed ice cream cones just as the concession closed or at least I did. From here the trail wonders amongst a myriad of roads and walkways. It goes through a little Wildlife Center zoo. As it passes the black bear exhibit (no bear in site today) it hits it's lowest point of 124 feet above sea level. Shortly it climbs up and over the Hudson River on the Bear Mountain Bridge. The bridge is another place from my memory.We cross the Hudson at 5:30pm. It's only 6 more miles to the Friary but there are 7 road crossings or walks in this little segment. That's to be expected though. The Friary is this gorgeous old hill top establishment. We are out of food so we need to find a store or a restaurant or both. The place is very green and pretty rural. Thru-hikers are invited to camp in the athletic field but we were thinking we should check in with some one and maybe find directions to food. With this quest in mind we continued to climb the winding roads, paths and stairs to the big old building on the hill top. The place seemed pretty well abandoned but then a guy showed up. He was a Friar. He told us of a little place a couple of miles down the road. At this hour that wasn't real tempting. He said it was against policy for him to take us there. Then I explained my plight and asked him about getting a train to Manhattan. For some reason he offered me a ride to the train station since he was going out shortly anyway, but he still denied Buick a ride to the store. The Friar told me to wait here. Buick was a bit disgruntled. Hunger will do that. We said so long and he headed down to pitch his tent. It hadn't dawned on either of us that this was a pretty big farewell and so we didn't make much of it.The Friar came back in about 10 minutes and we got in his car and drove off. I felt bad for Buick but I knew he would work something out. That's what thru-hikers do. The Friar was a nice guy. He didn't want me to talk about this act of kindness because he was breaking the rules. I tried to give him a couple of buck for his trouble and the gas but he refused. The money might have gotten stashed in his car anyway when he wasn't looking. Who remembers. He dropped me at the station. It wasn't far.Mind you, I still have my pack, boots and gaiters. I look no different than I did when I hit the trail this morning or any of the previous countless mornings. I smell no better either. It's a bit comical to think about. Up on the platform there is a computerized ticket machine. It takes my credit card and after some confused touch screening, spits out a ticket. There were one or two others on the platform waiting in the waning twilight. That was nice because they could confirm that I was on the right side of the tracks to get to NYC.The train came. I got on and took a seat with my pack beside me. The view from the train across the Hudson to the colorfully darkening sky dashed with occasional clouds for accent was just stunning. All the people on the train who probably take this ride daily just appeared to take it for granted as we do. I was full of all kinds of emotions. Going from trail to this level of civilization but still surrounded by the beauty of nature. It was a happy ride even though it was already after 8pm.The ride wasn't long. Maybe just a half hour but it was long enough to dig some granola bars and maybe the last half a bagel out of my pack. It also gave me the chance to reorganize the pack a bit for civilization. What ever that could have been. It was probably just liberating my wallet.The train of course dropped me at Grand Central Station on 34th Street. Under stand, I am no stranger to New York City, but still this is not my normal mode of operation here. I took a subway up to Times Square. Coming up from the underground in Times Square at about 9pm after what felt like a lifetime on the Appalachian Trail was an inspiring culture shock. There I stood, back pack and all, amidst the lights, sounds and hoards of people bustling about the city. I just had to stand there and take it all in for a bit. It was amazing.Finally, the task at hand. Where to pitch the tent. No, that won't work. It was time to find a hotel room. The rent was high in the city but that was the only choice at this hour. After checking the rates at The Marriott and The Edison I settled on Milford Plaza. They were all ridiculously expensive in my opinion but the Marriott was about twice the others. It was tired and I was late but the hunger was big at the end of this 20.5 mile day. I went back out for some spinach stuffed pizza on 8th Avenue. There was also some grocery shopping in the small stores in the neighborhood. There must be bigger food stores somewhere but their location was a mystery to me. Total raisin bran was missing so I got regular. There were other shortcomings too like no Tang. Then it was back to the room to wash my laundry in the sink, take a shower, repackage food, eat a pint of Ben and Jerry's and finally crash.