Date: 2010-05-04
From: Rausch Gap Shelter

To: The Pavilion (Port Clinton, PA)
Miles today: 42.0
Weather: scattered clouds

That's right: 42 miles! Hard to believe but here it goes:It all started with a fresh start at sunrise. At the shelter the orange sun broke through the green canopy. The air was moist and filled with energy. I hit the trail at 6:45 and listened to my iPod for about an hour while munching on Muenster cheese. I stopped under an overpass for a 40-minute nap at about 9:15 am. An hour later, I had to throw my pack over a deep stream and leap over (kinda fun). For the 13 miles between my nap and the shelter I felt great. It was about noon, and I decided that I'd catch up that night. 42 was a big number, but I didn't really think about that. I just decided to go and went.At the 501 Shelter I found some instant coffee mix and shook up at water bottle of extremely-strong brew, probably as powerful as an espresso. I ate sunflower seeds and sipped on the potion as I march on. No foot or joint problems, no debilitating sleepiness. I felt strong as a bull. I never listened to my iPod. I was fine without it, rather enjoying rapping to myself with surprising flow (I'm secretly convinced that I could be a rapper if I tried). A strange isolated storm blew up from nowhere and narrowly missed me. It was almost dusk and I was about 16 miles from Port Clinton. I found myself staring at the sky at a road crossing, and suddenly an SUV came speeding akwardly towards me IN REVERSE. The car had slammed on the brakes and reversed back up to meet, and an Amish-looking bearded man rolled down the window. "You thru-hiking?" I said yes. "How does a fresh hot meal sound?". "Ahhhhh," I said, "I'm kinda on a time schedule. It's already going to be a late night." Then I paused and thought: you know, this may never happen again. Meanwhile, his son stared awkwardly. "You now what, screw it man! I'd love a hot meal." I hopped in. His name was Longnecker, and this was "Longnecker Country," he said. Sure enough, we passed his brother's house, his father's house, his sister's house, and the homes of several other family members on the way to Longnecker's place. It sat on the hilltop with a beautiful view of the valley. He had an enormous family, I guess a tradition of the Church of the Bretheren. I waded through kids to get from the car to the front door--actually, they kind of parted for me and stared curiously as I walked through. Upon entering the house (of modest size, I should note), Longnecker told his wife that "I've brought home a hiker! Can you hurry up? He needs to get back to the trail." She was a kind woman. Before dinner, I sat on the couch and talked to Longnecker. At least 10 kids surrounded us and listened quietly. At dinner call we all seated ourselves around a large table. Enchiladas, a salad, cookies, and a glass of milk was the dinner, and it was DELICIOUS. Everyone (even both parents), dipped their cookies in the milk. In fact, the mother even broke up a cookie for the smallest child and dipped it in for her! I thought that was interesting. A "thank you" and back to the trail.For the first hour I listened to the iPod, but soon darkness fell and I put it away (the night always makes me paranoid). It was a long and hard 16 miles but at last it was over. I trudged proudly into the shelter at 12:30 AM and collapsed. My feet were in bad shape, which I only realized after stopping for several minutes. The skin was white and blisters blood-red. I looked in the trashcan: three half-empty ice cream containers told me the boys had attempted the "Half-Gallon Challenge" and failed miserably. I polished off a box of cookie dough and fell asleep.