Date: 2003-08-21
From: Rutherford Shelter

To: St. Thomas Episcopal Church Hostel, Vernon, NJ
Miles today: 23.0

Toby and I arrived at the High Point State Park Headquarters before it was open. Rats, no restroom. We filled up on water from the spigot outside, as the occupants of a nearby correctional facility who were there to clean up and mow the lawns watched us with interest. We came to the platform overlooking the High Point Monument soon after leaving the road. Not much of a view this morning; the summer haze disguises the landscape. He wanted to go up to the Monument, but we missed the side trail. Instead we ran into Rodent as he was coming out of the High Point Shelter. That kid's a speed demon. Some pretty hardcore music can be heard coming out of his headphones; guess it keeps him going all day long.Today's the day we hit the "secret shelter". We met up with Rodent again just before finding the road to the shelter. It's known as the "secret shelter" because the man who oversees it doesn't want it mobbed by people, except for thru-hikers. However, even the AT books don't list it. It's not in my data book; luckily Toby uses Wingfoot's book and it was in there. The road is marked by a small white sign that says "well water this way..." A former thru-hiker has built an enclosed shelter with plumbing and electricity - a large sink inside, an indoor and outdoor shower, and a ceiling fan. He was mowing his large lawn when we arrived, so we introduced ourselves and thanked him. It's rumored he has laundry, or at least a dryer, there too, but since we didn't stay there overnight we didn't see that. We were just there long enough for a tasty lunch. Kind of scraping the bottom of the barrel - I mean, our food bags - since we're going into town tonight!Not long after we left - couldn't have been long because we were all three still together - Rodent stopped and pointed out, off on the West side of the Trail, a bear and her three cubs. She was lounging, sitting on her butt with her back against a tree! The cubs scampered off and she got slowly to her feet and ambled away after them. It's funny - all the bear warnings made me think they'd be so aggressive. But really they're just about as interested in you as a tree stump - unless of course you'd be lucky enough to end up between her and her cubs. Then you'd have trouble. Otherwise they're often as skittish of you as you are of them! I had that same safari feeling as I watched her walk away. I love seeing them in the wild; zoos will never be the same.I wouldn't have expected it to be so, but apparently New Jersey is the most densely populated with bears for how much space it has for them to live in. I guess I tended to picture all of Jersey as a New York City suburb! There have been plenty of road crossings so far, but it's really quite woodsy. It stinks, though. Can't describe the smell, but both Toby and I have noticed it.Past Lott Road and Unionville, NY (apparently the Trail weaves in and out between New Jersey and New York through this short corridor) the Trail flattens out considerably. I pulled ahead of both Toby and Rodent here, speeding along on the gravelly path. I don't remember exactly where it started, but somewhere past Lott Road and about six or eight miles out of Vernon the Trail became Mosquito Hell. I mean, we'd been warned of the Jersey skeeters, but I had no idea. I soon saw nothing of Rodent or Toby - it was all any of us could do to go at our fastest pace to get through there as soon as possible. Utter misery. I of course had no end of frustration as I struggled to get up the hills and away from the mosquitoes as fast as I could; there was no stopping for breaks, nothing - it was simply miserable. We'd put Deet on, too, but apparently these mosquitoes are undaunted by Deet. I lost all perspective, became frantic. Slapping here, brushing off there; dead mosquitoes accumulated on my arms and shoulders, some leaving a bloody mess. I didn't wipe them off; I didn't care. I just wanted out of there. I emerged from the woods to cross NJ 284; Rodent was there, and we paused only long enough to exclaim at the misery. Up Pochuck Mountain, and I had to stop and get water. I guess up to then Toby had been behind me, but he passed by me here, not knowing I'd stopped. So for the next four or five miles I pushed as hard as possible, unable to escape the cloud of mosquitoes that clustered around me. I put on my headphones, hoping Bill Bryson would drown out the incessant buzzing in my ears. I passed two SOBOs; one was wearing a mosquito face net. Nice idea, but that doesn't do much for your arms. I pitied them going into what I hoped I was coming to the end of. Finally I crested Pochuck Mountain and headed down the other side - ran down the other side, actually, not caring about knees or shins, just GET ME AWAY FROM THESE MOSQUITOES! At last I came to NJ 517 and out of the woods. My wild-eyed, my hair on end, a crazed mad-woman. At least that's what I felt like. Toby was there; we looked at each other and just shook our heads. It was almost unspeakable. "How could people live here?" he asked. "I guess they just never go outside." I began to relax as we started on the next section, a flat, open, albeit swampy, area over which a bridge has been built. It's a couple of miles long, but thank God there were no mosquitoes. A traverse through a short wood led us into more mosquitoes; it was strange, they were only in treed areas. Out in the open they didn't bother us.I was tired though, and pushing hard to get into town. NJ 94, the highway into Vernon, became visible when I stepped up on a stile; but between me and it was a cow pasture populated with a good sized herd, wet and muddy, and covered in huge ruts and puddles. I slogged through as best I could; there was no Trail, I just headed right out into the middle of it, trying to find solid grassy "islands" in the muddy ruts. Sometimes I was successful, sometimes I sank...I waited at the other side and watched Toby start across. What a day it had been; we were so exhausted. As much from battling those mosquitoes as from the 23 miles we'd hiked.Just Westward was a store, a sort of nursery and farmer's market. We headed over and dropped our packs outside. I bought five nectarines, Toby a couple of drinks, Rodent some ice cream. Back outside we collapsed on a small square of lawn and exclaimed some more over the hell we'd just run through. Rodent's arms were covered in little red welts. Both Toby and I had dead mosquitoes covering ours. I actually felt a sinister pride in those corpses - especially the bloody ones. Kind of like a warrior displaying the head of his slain enemy.Soon we'd gotten some energy back, enough to hoist our packs and go stand by the road to try to hitch a ride into town. A man picked us up shortly and drove us straight to the St. Thomas Episcopal Church hostel, where we discovered a whole crew of hikers already there. The same crew, in fact, that I'd met at the Church of the Mountain in Delaware Water Gap. Curly Dan called out, "It's Hephzibah!" We all greeted each other warmly, and introduced Toby and Rodent.After showering and getting laundry started, Toby and Rodent ordered us a couple of pizzas and salads. Church members were having some functions in the fellowship hall adjacent to the "hiker room", but once they were finished and cleared out, all of us hikers (there were about 11 of us - two SOBOs, Toby, Rodent and I, and the rest of the crew) moved in. Bearbait, Curly Dan, and Slideshow Bob pulled out a handpuppet kit from the corner of the room and put on "Hiker Trash Theatre". What a riot. They enacted four or five scenes, inspired by actual stories people in their group had experienced over the last 1000+ miles. We laughed till our sides hurt.Then Slideshow Bob, Singe, Curly Dan and I started a game of gin-rummy that lasted until about 2am. Well past hiker midnight, but lots of fun. I hope we can hang with these guys for awhile - they're good entertainment!