Date: 2012-10-19
From: Church of the Mountain Hostel 

To: Leroy A. Smith Shelter 
Miles today: 20.3
Weather: light rain

(In which I encounter my first Pennsylvania rocks and meet Bart, from Poland) -Currently sitting in the shelter chatting with Bart in between journal sentences-I ate breakfast at a bakery in town and resupplied between the bakery and the gas station. I only needed a day and a half worth of food since I'm meeting up with Kelly tomorrow. Exciting! I'm going to try a 30 mile day tomorrow since the terrain is flat as a board. I'm a little worried about the rocks (see rant below), but if I can't go fast, I'll just get started early.I didn't get hiking this morning until 10 am but the flat terrain made for easy walking and I made the 20 miles to the shelter by 5:30. The first half of the day flew by with smooth trails, but the second half was a real introduction to Pennsylvania hiking. I've gotten really tired of everyone saying "you know what the northbounders call it... Rocksylvania!" Of course I know what the northbounders call it - I've been hiking for 800 miles and I hear about it every other day. Some people think it's not that bad, others think it's the devil. When it comes to rocks, I'm in the latter category. I hate them. The second half of today was a collage of rock-strewn trail. What bothers me most about the "Rocksylvania" comments is that no one is ever been able to tell me what kind of rocks they're talking about. There are big rocks (Southern Maine), medium size rocks, and the tiny buggers that roll under your feet. What I learned today is that Pennsylvania has them all. While hiking I decided they fit into 3 categories. Category 1: the big-ass boulders. These are VW bus size and you hop from one to the next. They're not too bad until they're wet like today, and then you have watch that you don't break a femur. Category 2: the microwave size jumble of death. Your trek poles are useless here so don't bother. Just move slowly and expect that you'll slip off each one as you try to plod onward. Category 3: the field of baseball-sized nuggets. Once again your trek poles wont save you. You spend most of the time here crouching a little to lower your center of gravity and careening whichever way the rocks under you roll. I imagine you look a little like a toddler in its first attempt to go from the couch to the recliner. All of these rock-trail types are a pain, but the real problem is not physical fatigue (although it does take some out of you) but speed reduction. I have to go at least 0.5 mph or even 1 mph slower than normal and that adds up quickly. The saving grace in all of this is that the rocks seem to show up in patches. The average condition of the trail is softball-sized rocks that you can step in between. With a little hip-flexer work and different stride lengths, you can move quickly most of the time. So, my ankles and hip-flexers might hurt tomorrow night, but the 30 mile day I have planned for tomorrow should be made in good time.At the shelter tonight I met Bart. Bart is from Poland. He has been living in Chicago for a while apparently. He's a quiet fella who fits the physical profile of a Russian bad guy from a James Bond flik. Despite the uber-intimidating stature, it was a pleasure to chat with him. We talked about languages and techy trail gear - he has some sweet solar-charger and crank-charger equipment and I showed off my bluetooth keyboard. What's really great about Bart is that he gave me one of his Beef Stroganoff Mountain House Meals entirely unprovoked. I think he just liked me. He even heated the water and prepared it for me! He tells me he has plenty of money and just doesn't want to carry it tomorrow. Whatever the reason, Bart is a champ in my book. I still can't believe it - a Mountain House Meal! Those things are about $8 a pop. Delicious.Today's post was brought to you by Bart, because free Mountain House Meals is a great way to make friends. Thanks Bart.