Date: 2003-07-13
From: Rocky Mountain Shelter

To: Quarry Gap Shelters, Nr Fayetteville, Pa. 
Miles today: 5.6
Weather: clear sky

I tossed and turned through the night and awoke with the realisation that Gettysburg was unlikely. Unless "Thistle" and "Two Speeds" were actually keen to go, there was too much against it. Rides can be hard to come by, the battlefield itself would require a full day (optimistically - what if there were no transport on site?), we would lose all chance of catching "Chafe Master" and "Foxie". We made the three miles to US30 quickly enough despite needing to pick our way through some very rocky outcrops. A notable moment for me, just after crossing a gravel road back into the woods, was to see my first example of Indian Pipes, a quite unique plant. On this section, we encountered a local man, Steve Gross, from Hanover, out walking several miles of trail with his spaniel, Starbuck. He was parked at the trail head on US30 and, learning I was interested in Civil War history, offered us a ride to Gettysburg which was on his way home. At the US30 junction, we had a pow-wow and decided we should re-supply in Fayetteville, do laundry, and get back on the trail. The final decision was mine. "We have things we have to do, and Gettysburg isn't going anywhere" I heard myself saying! Steve very kindly took us to Fayetteville instead. It was the practical thing to do, but I could weep!In Fayetteville we made great progress. We re-supplied at a Super Walmart, had a fine lunch at Georgio's Family Restaurant while our laundry was washing across the street. At the restaurant, people were in their Sunday Best but were very interested in the AT and wished us well. We were ready to hitch back by 2pm, and fairly quickly got picked up by a local man, Mark McLean, and his wife, Diane. They were going out for the afternoon to visit (sob!) Gettysburg. On the way back to the trailhead, we passed a signpost for "Scotland, 6 miles". Boy, are WE lost! Tonight, we are at the Quarry Gap Shelters. They are both on a common deck with a picnic table in between and the entire area is covered. A good creek is directly to our front. The creek and the approach path are crowded with white rhododendrons, still mostly in flower. An embedded lighting system comes on after dark to guide you up to the privy. But there is a downside. There is no natural tenting area. A couple of tenting platforms are provided but usable only if you have a free-standing tent, which I do not. So it's the shelter for me. A Camp America group has arrived and it could be a busy night. ps. Sitting in the laundrette today, I picked up a two day-old copy of ¢USA Today¢.   In the Sports section I found what will surely be the sports story of the year. Baseball. The Milwaukee Brewers had been playing the Pittsburgh Pirates at home, where they traditionally (I learned) hold an event at the end of the 6th inning called the Four Sausages Race. This requires four crowd members to don giant costumes representing a Hot Dog, Italian Sausage, Polish Sausage and a Bratwurst. The four sausages raced down the track alongside the visiting team¢s bench. One of the Pirates¢ players had a brainstorm and, as a joke, clocked the Italian sausage with his bat as she flew past. Down she went like a ton of bricks bringing the Hot Dog down with her. Press photographers swung into action in time to catch the Polish Sausage and the Bratwurst, standing by their fallen sausages-in-arms, with fists raised, ready to battle the entire Pirates¢ bench. It didn¢t end there. The stadium was in pandemonium. The police were called in, and the Pirates player was arrested, handcuffed, and marched out of the arena to spend the night in jail. He was fined several hundred dollars and released the next day. What a wonderful story. ¢Nowt as queer as folk¢, a Yorkshireman would say. How I miss the real world!