Date: 2017-06-10
From: US 52, deli nearby, NY

To: Wiley Shelter, NY
Miles today: 20.5

It had been a very dewy night and the inside and outside of my tent were as wet as if it had been raining. After I struck camp I went into the deli and had a big bacon and cheese sandwich. I ordered a ham sandwich to go for lunch. While I was waiting for my orders to be prepared, I chatted to a young policeman in 'police casual' (dark t-shirt and pants) who was heading to training school with his canine unit. When he left, another customer, who announced himself as a member of the AHS (which I think is the American Historical Society) came up to me to enquire if I'd seen any cairns on the trail. He told me about the theory that certain Native American tribes believe the spirits of their ancestors live below ground in aquifers and underground rivers, and that they were able through dowsing to map the courses of ground water, marking them with these cairns. Interesting stuff you hear when you're in line at the deli.I only got on the trail at 8:10. I had a very easy day ahead of me, with no big climbs or descents. (Look, I know I've said it before, but god, I love New York!) The weather was supposed to be warm, and it was. But here's the thing: you cross a field, and you have to put on your dorky hat. You sweat. You put on your sweatband. Then you re-enter the woods, and the perceived temperature drops twenty degrees. You have to shed the hat and sweatband. I passed lakes and ponds, walked along hundreds of yards of boardwalks across swamps, and noted with increasing irritation the growing number of mosquitoes and flies. I may have to break out the headnet soon; I've carried it from Georgia.About halfway into my hike I caught up with two hikers having a chat, a NOBO and a SOBO. The SOBO passed me, and when I said "Good afternoon", the NOBO said "Tipperary?". It turns out that he reads my trail journal, and knew I was nearby, so when he heard my "brogue" he guessed it might be me. His trail name is Bri-Face, a name given him by one of his daughters. A former Bear Stearns employee who lives in Yonkers, he now teaches mathematics to special needs students in Bronxville School. He was born just a few months before me, in Feb 1958. So as my elder, he commanded my respect. He was out doing a day hike. We had lunch together, and hiked together. We saw the magnificent Dover Oak, the largest tree on the trail. When we got to where he'd parked his car,  I slugged down two Cokes, as I'd run out of water. He pointed me towards a nursery just 100 yards further on. There I was able to water up. The owner, a lady whose name I forgot to ask, has a son-in-law from Cork, so we had a laugh as I mimicked the Cork accent. I found the last 5.5 miles of the day very easy. I knew the next shelter had non-potable water, so I filled my Hydrapak at a stream. At the shelter, which is right on the trail, I had to pitch my tent on a sloping patch of ground, but it worked out fine. I was right beside Will and Denise, a cabinetmaker and teacher respectively, from NY. They were super-friendly, and we all had discreet laughs at the antics of a young couple who were spending hours chopping wood - they had brought an axe with them. Butterfeet joined us while I was having dinner at their luxurious tent pad, as they reclined like royalty in their portable chairs. He had done 25 miles, despite all his troubles with overdoing the miles and having had to get off the trail as a result. Denise said that Will was a snorer and apologized in advance. But I had a great night's sleep and heard no snoring. I was so tired I could not stay awake to do my journal as I normally do. Tipperary