Date: 2004-07-29
From: Georgia

To: Maine
Miles today: 1394.4
Weather: scattered clouds

Mile 1394.4Graymoor FriaryPeekskill, NYJuly 29, 04Mowed field of early morning grass wet and all bejeweled, diamonds ofdawn as golden sun not seen in days rises powerful over eastern forest.Yesterday I met Walt Whitman in a forlorn old zoo fulla black childrensinging Jesus songs and howling to make the caged coyotes howl. Waltstanding there eternal, eternal as bronze anyway, tall majestic thereat the lowest elevation point on the AT saying, in essence, you canhave your cities, your stress, your Turtle Wax and toe nail polish..give me the trees, the rocks, the long open road across America. Andthat river otter in his tiny pool doing loopdi-loops, I wanted to takehim home!And those tired looking bears, not old, just tired or maybe content, Idon't know. I turned to an attendant there at the Bear Mountain Wildlife Center for animals that can't survive in the wild and said,"In 1400 miles, those bears are the first I've seen on the trail!" Herresponse was like nothing. Blah. My words meant nothing to her. Fine. I crossed the Hudson River and disappeared back into the forest.But not for long. In six miles I walked into this place, and old monastery whose brothershave been taking in thruhikers for decades. Got here just in time forthe 5:30 dinner of spaghetti, heaps of it, and salad fantastic, andbread and butter and jello and three bean soup and iced tea. Wow! Ieven managed to squeeze in a 48 second shower to peel off a layer ofsweat before dinner down here at the sports pavilion¢s ice cold cedarshower house. Rain last night, again, but again I beat it, warm and snug under coverof the pavilion in my bag and long johns and fleece sweater stretchedout atop a table. Wonderful. Twenty miles ahead today but with nopack! A kind angel named Gene gonna run our packs ahead, Michael,Nitro and me. Then tomorrow one more twenty to Appalachian TrailStation and boom! Outa NY state. -RSMSmash cut to RPH Shelter, later that night. Whoa! Night now and meout of the shelter to pee in the bushes and noticing that the sky isstill blue and all the forest a silhouette and whoa! Day hassurrendered to night, the former saying nothing of my 19 mile day, thelatter only proclaiming again her name, NIGHT! "Oh, Day! Speak up,all ready!" Days says nothing and Night, predictably "Nighty night,Dukey" as she suffers my lids to close in mid-sentence here at the LikeWater For Chocolate picnic table neath the overhang here in the NewYork state garden of Appalachian comfort, such as it is, and my catfood can stove burns a small alcohol flame to hold the day, to staveoff night for me to have something, to say. But no sooner said than"poof" flame out and all thruhikers with beers in their bellies to bedin their snug tents, crickets singing irreverent in the brambles,Radiohead singing irreverent in my ears, "far away, far from pain, so youaim toward the sky..." I am interrupted from my revelry to brush aDaddy Long Legs from my ankle, about the third in as many minutes. Suddenly Cynthia Wilson's Gummi Bears from Chula Vista California takecenter stage over the remnants of damn near a case of Heineken beerslapped together from some interstate Sunoco gas station, trail angelGene's generous driving and a twenty spot kicked down by Swan.Cynthia! Who are you? Lovin' the gummi bears, even tho' they don'tmix well with Dutch beer poured on draft and drank from an MSR titaniumcook pot. Who knew? So get this! Michael (of Nitro & Michael - don't know why he don'thave a trail name and she does) and I go into S& J Deli somewherebetween the Taconic forests of New York and the `burbs, and they saywhat do you want? and I say Italian sub please and can we fill ourwater bottles? And Michael says something about how we're hiking, andBOOM! that's all it takes and Angie asks "The Appalachian?" and theanswer is yes, and so suddenly Angie and Richie behind the counterwanna know all about it. Angie says she's a California girl and ismore interested, it seems, in how close I live to Ontario, CA, whereshe's got family, than the trail, but the truth comes out that Michaeland I and all our time-neighboring freak brethren have indeed walked1400-some miles to get here, here in the neighborhood of the S&J DeliSuperette. Water bottles filled, I go to the counter to pay up andRitchie puts his hand on the sub, slides it toward me and together theysay, "Have a safe hike." Huh? And big Italian Ritchie is like, "Youwalked 1400 miles and you're gonna try and pay me? Fah-get about it."Back in the car, Gene says, "Yeah, New Yorkers are prettysoft-hearted." Now it's past Hiker Midnight and I'm about to puke on gummi bears andHeineken and everybody else has been asleep an hour or more. Thechocolate-covered espresso beans I ate just to keep me fromface-planting on the picnic table are about to wear off. Gotta go. Goodnight and God zilla.-RSM