Date: 2003-08-25
From: Belter's Campsite

To: Salisbury, Conn.
Miles today: 11.2
Weather: clear sky

I made a dozy start this morning. Sitting on a log near my tent munching a granola bar, I noticed that my socks didn¢t match. Would it matter? Yes, I decided, so off came my right boot, I put on a matching sock and retied my boot. Then, munching a cereal bar, I noticed that the new sock was inside out. Would it matter? Ofcourse it would, so the whole process was repeated. Some may think I am anal-retentive, but I don¢t think so. How can anyone function with disharmonious socks? I didn¢t function much better on the Trail. I felt extremely tired, even though most of the walking was very easy. Much of it was along the Housatonic River, a pleasure as always, and the last section before Falls Village has been designated a wheelchair-accessible area - I¢d say the only bit of the entire AT that a Dalek could negotiate.   On the edge of the village, we all wanted to go in for brunch at a local diner. Me especially, for I badly needed an energy boost. One big pancake breakfast later, I walked back through Falls Village with my comrades. There was something odd about the place and I finally realised what. There is no one here! No cars, no one walking in the street, no one working round his house or mowing the lawn. At the caf©, we had tried to hitch a ride back to the trailhead, but no one we asked was local and knew the area. As we walked along, a car pulled up and we were offered a ride. But as we were about to load up, the woman decided she had to be somewhere quickly, that she didn¢t really have enough room anyway, and drove hurriedly off. Very strange. Falls Village is the perfect example of New England chocolate box neatness. Nothing needs a coat of paint, everything looks perfect. A missing fence slat, or grass longer than regulation length, would surely earn you a court summons round here you feel. It could have been so different. An industrial future was envisaged for Falls Village in the nineteenth century. A system of canals was built to divert the river to power large factories yet to be built. At the opening ceremony in 1851, before a large crowd, the gates were opened, river water rushed in - and out again through hundreds of holes and cracks in the canal wall. It had been built of stone without any mortar between. The industrial dream ended there, but perhaps there is a parallel universe or alternate reality, in which the mortar was not forgotten, Falls Village went on to become an industrial giant, went into decline, and now looks like Duncannon. Maybe all the people have gone there. Crossing the Iron bridge over the Housatonic, we soon came up beside the falls for which the village is named. A hydroelectric plant, or rather its dam, now restricts the flow of water, but the falls are still impressive. We enjoyed the afternoon. It was warm but not overbearing, the terrain was reasonably easy, and we had some fine viewpoints along the way, particularly of the mountains in the Taconic range to the north. We should hit those tomorrow. Our target was the Plateau campsite, but just short of there, we came out on to US44 and decided to make a diversion into Salisbury, only a half mile to the west, for a meal and to pick up some provisions. This plan quickly evolved into ¢Let¢s stay there for the night.¢ So we are staying at Maria McCabe¢s on the north edge of town.   Maria is a remarkable old lady, a real character, and she goes out of her way to help her guests out with rides to the laundry, etc. Her christian names are Maria Francesca, she was northern Italian by birth, married a German soldier (who died, in the war presumably) when she was young.   She proudly describes herself as German, and sounds it rather than Italian. In her late thirties, she married an Irish-American and came to the United States (the order of these events I¢m not sure about). A colourful life and one can imagine at times a very turbulent one. There is a fourth guest here. Earlier, a smallish, elderly hiker came in, asking Maria if she had seen a group of three people hiking together. Yes, it¢s Mr. Caetano, who by my calculation has put in 16 miles today. Amazing!