Date: 2013-07-29
From: RPH Shelter

To: Native Landscape and Garden Center, AT RR
Miles today: 19.9

Though it didn't rain much more last night, my tent was pretty wet when I got up. It was humid, so I didn't bother to try to dry it out. My stomach was growling, and I wished that I had saved a couple of pieces of pizza to have for breakfast. But I had a bagel and cheese that I'd brought from the Appalachian Market a couple of days before. I headed out from the RPH Shelter with a little hesitation. It was an awesome, cinderblock shelter built and maintained by people with a great sense of humor. There was a small patch of landscaped garden in the front with the plants labeled with white plastic sticks. Blueberries, More Blueberries, Poison Crunchberries (that looked remarkably like blueberries), Stuff, More Stuff, and even a rock labeled "Rock". I left with a smile on my face, and that was a fantastic way to start my day.The day got even better because a few miles down the trail there was a road crossing with a deli .4 miles east. Second breakfast. I got an egg, bacon and cheese breakfast sandwich with a coffee, and I ordered an "Appalachian Trail Blazer" sandwich to go. I sat outside at the picnic table with Sqetiq. We charged our cellphone, and I dried my tent in the sunshine. Yep, things were looking up. I even found myself singing and dancing back up to the trail. As I was walking up the highway, I noticed something in the middle of the road. It sort of looked like a smallish rock. I hadn't noticed it on the way down, and that's what struck me. A car drove over it and clipped it with the one of its tires. The rock flipped around all catty-wompous and then a little knob lurched out of the side. I suddenly realized that it was a little box turtle. I looked back over my shoulder to see if any traffic was coming, it was clear. So I jogged up to the turtle. Miraculously it was unscathed (physically, though mentally I'm sure the little guy was freaking out). I'd read in the zoo a few days before that turtles are endangered in New York state due to habitat loss and illegal animal trade. I picked it up. I have a really empathy for these guys. I took it to the side the road, but it would have a really steep climb up the hill, and even then it led directly into someone's front yard. I decided to take it with me to the trail head where the ground was a little flatter and there was more tall grass and vegetation for it to hide in. I looked down periodically to check on the little guy. Its legs and tail were tucked in, but its head poked out a bit. It kept its eyes closed as if I were moving at the speed of light and it was too nervous to look. I set the turtle down in the bushes and wished him/her luck. We'd both need it.Back in the woods, the temperature felt good. There were lots of gnats and mosquitoes, so mostly I kept my head net on. Occasionally I would raise it, but a gnat flew straight up my nose. I snorted and sneezed and tried to get it out, but no luck. A little later I felt something on the back of my tongue. I hoped to goodness it was a bit of peanut, but when I fished it out I saw that it was the gnat. I was sufficiently grossed out. The hike was beautiful. It was full of stone fences and farmland and forests. The path was wonderful, and occasionally there was a road walk. I stopped at the Morgan Stewart Shelter to use the privy and have a late lunch. A local hiker, Electron John, joined me at the picnic table. He knew all about the area and the trail to come, and he gave me some good pointers. Indigo and Catnap showed up. They said they had been following me for hundreds of miles (they'd seen my enteries in the shelter registers), and finally they'd caught up. Cool.Catnap caught up with me and passed ahead, but when I got to the road crossing he was stopped. In front of him was a baby fawn, spots and all, laying dead on the side of the road, directly in front of the AT trailhead. Its eyes were clouded over, and there was a small circle of blood in front of its nose, but other than that it looked peaceful and undamaged. Catnap and I decided that we should move it. It's little body was still slightly warm, but it was already stiff. We took it several yards up the road and heaved it into the bushes. It seemed callous, but it seemed that it was the best that we could do. I wondered if the doe would come back to look for it. We slathered our hands in sanitizer and headed on.I came upon a little stream. There was a guy with a really nice camera huddled over the water. When I approached he stood up. He was taking pictures of waterbugs, he told me, they weren't being very good models. We talked for a bit, and as it turns out he's from very near where I live in Watertown. In fact, just the next town over, Carthage. He said his name was Shawn (or Sean) Hill. It was such a treat to get to chat with him and to talk about something other than the trail. I got to Nuclear Lake, and Catnap was already there. I knew that I still wanted to hike a lot farther, but even more I knew I needed to stop and swim in THIS lake. It was rather large, one of the largest lake/ponds to date. The surface was flat and the water was clearish, but the algae kicked up easily. I stripped to my underwear and hobbled in on tender feet. The sides dropped off quickly, and I found myself treading water. I much preferred that to slimmy, grassy, rocky lake bottoms. My body felt so good stretching and extending without the burden of its own weight. A good swim like this does me good. I could have stayed and swam all afternoon, but the sun was getting lower in the sky, and I knew that I'd have to move on sooner than later. Indigo and Sqeptiq showed up as we were getting out. I sat in the sun and ate some trail mix to dry out for a bit. And then it was time to hike on.I got to Dover Rd, and in front of me was the largest tree on the AT, the Dover Oak. It's 20'4" in circumference and it's estimated to be 300+ years old. Wow! Catnap came up behind me, and we took photos of each other. Woohoo. We really stepped out the last 4 miles. There were pastures and forests and marshland and boardwalks. We got to the Appalachian Trail Railroad Stop, and took a few photos there. Then we wandered around the Native Landscapes Garden Center trying to figure out where to camp. We chose the least hospitable campsite we could find. It was tucked between a busy road, railroad tracks and a swamp. The ground was lumpy and slanted and covered in cut-off corn stocks. It was pretty crappy, but it was a place to pitch out tents. Then we walked the .6 miles down the road to a deli. They were open until 11 pm, and it almost 9 pm. The grill was closed, we were told, but the owner happily whipped us up a couple of eggplant parmesan sandwiches smothered in homemade marinara sauce and a slab of fresh mozzarella. We each got a large order of curly fries. Heaven. Pure Heaven. Catnap and I talked about our recent mental struggles with the trail, and it was so comforting to know that I wasn't the only one that was having a difficult time. But today, today was a GREAT DAY. It was the first day that I didn't have to search long and hard to find something positive to cling on to. It seemed to be around every turn, every corner. We waddled back to our tents, full and tired and happy.