Date: 2011-07-12
From: Upper Goose Pond

To: Thomas Levarti's House
Miles today: 20.5

(In which I eat pancakes and cookies and sleep on Thomas Levarti's floor)I wake up with the other hikers shortly after 6am to go downstairs for pancakes. Continuing a wonderful tradition I had heard but not quite believed rumors of, the caretaker makes us all hot pancakes on the cabin's propane stove. I think longingly about the gallon of real maple syrup waiting in my father's refrigerator in Northampton as I pour corn syrup over my three pancakes, but I still appreciate them greatly.My brief thoughts of zeroing vanish when the mosquitoes resume their attack from the night before, and I head out hiking north. The trail soon becomes overgrown with pricker bushes that droop over the trail and snag my clothes and legs. The prickers continue for miles, and though I try to use my poles to part them for my safe passage, this slows me down and I still miss enough to pick up several scratches. As much as I had looked forward to Massachusetts, with the sunken board experience, the mosquitoes and now the prickers, I have to admit that it has not been one of my favorite states to hike in.Midway through the day I reach one of the most anticipated spots in Mass: The Cookie Lady's house. A woman in Becket who for years has been giving homemade cookies to all of the hikers who have stopped by, the trail has been buzzing with talk of the cookies ever since New York. When I show up she is busy gardening, but is friendly as she invites me to rest on the porch while she finishes up. I sign her register and when she is done gardening she brings out a basket of three chocolate chip cookies that I gulp down, pausing only for a few swigs of water. I chat with my kind benefactor, but while she is always pleasant, I can't help but get the sense that as a single hiker I represent but one small dot in an overall collage of trail magic, and that it is broader perspective from which The Cookie Lady draws her satisfaction. Regardless, I am grateful for the generosity, and for the renewed faith in humanity that comes from knowing there are people so committed to being generous.My question when contemplating Dalton has not been whether or not to stay but rather which of the two trail angels to stay with. I have decided on Rob Bird, simply because he is the more secretive and mysterious of the two, not being listed in any of the books, when I find myself walking right by Thomas Levarti's house. A half dozen hikers are already resting on the porch, and when I walk up to say hello Tom himself greats me, telling me that there is plenty of space inside tonight and that I should toss my pack down and relax. Seeing no reason to look further, I decide to take him up on the offer and sink into a padded chair.Having heard rumors of contention between the two trail angels, I ask Tom straight out what the story with Rob is. After an initial awkward pause, like the type you get when a businessperson is trying to figure out how to describe their competitor without coming across as badmouthing, Tom describes the similar trail magic that Rob offers to hikers. One difference that Tom does claim is that Tom has been hosting hikers for more than thirty years, while Rob has by comparison just started a mere five or so years ago. "His starting was actually one of the best things to ever happen for me," Tom admits. "The volume of hikers was getting to a point where I worried I might have to stop altogether, and it has been a life saver having somewhere else to send hikers when things get too busy."I walk around Dalton, seeing the town I have driven through hundreds of times before now from a new perspective. When I reach the Cumberland Farms where I filled up on gas for the two years I attended Berkshire Community College, it feels as if my hiking and non-hiking worlds have connected, like two giant chunks of a nearly complete puzzle finally joining. More than entering Massachusetts or crossing the halfway point, reaching the Cumberland Farms is for me the most important milestone on the trail before Katahdin, and everything after this feels like it's the home stretch.Tomorrow I hope to reach the highest point in Massachusetts and sleep in my own bed for the first time in three and a half months.