Date: 2003-06-23
From: Bake Oven Knob Shelter

To: Jailhouse Hostel
Miles today: 7.5

The section hiker (and everyone else in the shelter) seems to have survived my lecture series from the nite before. Everyone leaves, heading for the Jailhouse Hostel in Palmerton. It's a sunny day and I am pleased to find the first of the blueberries ripening. I also find out that the ticks are everywhere. I've picked off 6 or 8 of then as they climb up my legs. When I find so many of them, it makes me feel like there must be even more that I'm missing, therefore, every 10 minutes or so, I stop to look for more. It bothers me a great deal when I find them.The last rest stop for me is the George W. Outerbridge shelter. It's a big, roomy, cool and somewhat dank shelter about 1/2 mile before the road that takes you to Palmerton. Thru the cracks in the stonework, I see something moving close to the ground. When I go to take a closer look, I find nothing. Oh well, it's just a chipmunk or a mouse...isn't it? (Two days later, I am at another shelter and a hiker known as Alligator tells us that he and 3 others spent the night at the Outerbridge shelter the day I had stopped. The next morning, there was a fat, well fed Copperhead snake found coiled up inside the top flap of a hiker's pack. That's what I had seen crawling around the floor that afternoon!) But at that moment, I was blissfully unaware of the snake as I tried to find more ticks on me.Thankfully, the newbie section hiker with the too-heavy pack comes by headed for his truck. "Want a lift into town?" he asks. "Sure", is my immediate answer. Before he lets me off at Jailhouse Hostel, we have had a couple of beers and French fries. I even play him a few bars of "Oh Suzanna" while he takes my picture. He's a nice guy, and I'm sure that his next time hiking will be more enjoyable than his first time was. I hope the Lord blesses him for listening to me run on, and on, and on...I meant well.As he drives away, I find myself climbing the steps of the Municipal Bldg. "Am I in the right place?" I ask the clerk. "You are if you want to stay at the hostel" she tells me. She wants to see my driver's license and also my Social Security card. "The guy in front of me on this list didn't have to give HIS Social Security number" I protest. "The name on the list in front of you is Hiking Viking and he's a citizen of Denmark. They don't have Social Security numbers!" That's enough for me! I've been set straight. Social Security # it is then. Plus which, for being a good boy, I get a "Goodie Bag" with toothpaste, toothbrush, shampoo, a candy bar, and a free postcard of the city jail. Go five buildings down the street, and turn to your left. The place is great! Free shower with hot water, hiker box, and 16 bunks...all free!!! There's a laundromat across the street and an ice cream parlor, Chinese restaurant, and small grocery store within walking distance. Best of all, I have now caught up to several people who were ahead of me. Wench and Hot Dog are there. Trail Frog takes a zero day. Fella named Trog, and a Texan from Arlington calling himself Truckin', Hiking Viking, and myself round out the nite's complement of hikers.The shower feels great. I head for the laundromat and find a talkative owner who has as many hiker stories as I do. She has met the best and the worst the Trail has to offer, but I have to be done and out of there by 8:00 p.m. I finally get another camera and some bread and cheese at the supermarket.