Date: 2003-05-11
From: Devils Racecourse Shelter

To: Antietam Shelter
Miles today: 12.0
Weather: overcast clouds

Have to do 12 miles today, plus which, it's Mother's day. I need to call, but from where? Once again, am on the road by 8:15ish. The military types I leave at the shelter, still badgering each other in the easy banter they had become so familiar with. I smile as the miles roll slowly past and when I come upon a piece of iron imbedded in the Trail, it occurs to me that this could be a bit of Civil War antiquity. Perhaps it's a bit of light cannon undercarriage, or perhaps a bit of old drill pipe. The sudden flap of wings brings me back to reality and I watch a large turkey fly into the woods. I've seen others, but none so big as this one. Must be a 20 pounder at least. The path is in good shape after the rains, and I'm only mildly annoyed by the motorcycle tracks that some non-hiker has left behind. You could see where the 4-wheeler had dug up rocks and dirt as he wound around the boulders too big to ride over. They aren't supposed to be here, but jerks come in all shapes and flavors. There's litter here and there, not left by hikers. Left instead by locals out for a quick run down the A.T. They are probably still pissed off that the Feds took grampa's farm for the Forrest Service and the AT. The litter is probably their way of getting even. These thoughts and others flit through my mind as the Trail takes me through Pen Mar. It's the birthplace of the woman King Edward abdicated his throne in order to marry. After that, Queen Elizabeth, his sister, was next in line. Truth is more interesting than fiction and I take a pic or two of the Mason-Dixon Line and Pennsylvania State Line. To tell the truth, I'm a bit proud of reaching "Rocksylvania", as I never really thought I would get this far. Stump's husband Jake (remember him?) must have done a good job chasing the Devil away that rainy morning, 'cause I'm still here and I'm still northbound, pounding away at both the blisters and the fat molecules grabbin' around my middle. Must have dropped 12, maybe 14 lbs. by now. Feeling good, feeling right with the Lord. Legs stronger, pack belt longer. But I never do find a phone for Mother's day. The shelters are close together now, and Antietam Shelter in Old Forge Park looks like a good spot to spend the nite. Little Antietam Creek runs close by, and a sponge bath to wash away the sweat feels great. Some jerk and her unleashed, undisiplined dog, gets my attention. Hmmm... After that the Tumbling Run Shelter caretaker drops by. There's a shine in his diamond earring and another in his eye, but we just talk trail and finally he leaves. Then the bible-thumpers show up. Gettin' mighty crowded in Old Forge Park. They are insistent about me knowing their version of the Lord's word, and I listen till I've had enough, and I send 'em on their way. I've got great respect for the Lord's word, but some old stoner with only 2 teeth showing ain't the salesman he thinks he is. I figure he's really there to move grass to passing hikers, or to sell himself off as a cult leader wannabe. I'm not buying either today and certainly nothing from him. I put some authority in my voice and encourage him and the other one to go find a more receptive audience. He disappears pretty fast after that. Hope it doesn't come back to bite me on the butt. There's rolling thunder in the distance and no more locals show up.