Date: 2013-07-10
From: Stealth camp at Swatara Gap, PA 72

To: Stealth camp near Fort Dietrich Snyder Monument
Miles today: 20.4

I slept great last night, but I wasn't ready to get up. Still the day called, and I had to answer. When I turned on my phone to check the weather, I had a message from my friend, Sandy. She and her family were in the process of moving from Watertown, NY to the D.C. area. Their southern journey would cross paths with my northern journey the day after next. Where would I be. I checked. I would be in Port Clinton, PA. They would be a mere 45 minutes north. It looked like we would get to have a mini-reunion! What a treat! If I needed any extra motivation to get moving, I just got it. I got packed up, washed a few things in the river below and headed out. The trail took us under I-81 again. You could feel the vibrations of the big trucks rattling the concrete bridge. I climbed up into the woods and was met immediately by loose rocks and thick, overgrown vegetation. I used my poles to push the vines and briars out of my path. I kept my eyes peeled for snakes. The gnats never left me for a second, ever diligent, ever attentive. I hate them. Luckily it started raining lightly, and that helped to shoo them away. But it also ushered in a fog that hung in the trees and blocked the views. I came to avista with a sign nailed to the tree that read: Lookout! I wasn't sure if it was meant as a noun, verb, or exclamation. It seemed a little omimous. I stopped at William Penn Shelter for a snack break. it was down a pretty steep hill, so I started to regret my decision, but at that point I was pretty committed. the shelter was a large 2-storey structure that looked hardy enough to hold up against the elements. I thought that the shelter builders down south should take a look at the layouts, because I was sure there were some pretty frigid nights that might have been a lot more pleasant. The trail continued along, flat and mercifully. There were some boulder fields and rocky areas to pick through, but I was able to keep up a good pace. I passed a large group of middle school kids hiking along in single file behind their leader. Each and everyone said hello as we passed each other. What a charming bunch! The sky opened up a little, but the wet leaves and rocks dappled with the sun made it hard to see. Especially with the swarm or mosquitoes and gnats that followed my every step. I sprayed on another layer of deet that the rain seemed to have washed off. Good thing because I had a rocky, gnat-filled hell to come. Rocks, rocks and more rocks. rocks of all shapes and sizes, buried at varying levels so their nasty sharp heads poked above the ground. It felt like walking on a bed of nails and glass shards. I stared at the ground to try to keep from twisting my ankles. All the while, gnats took turns kamakazing into my eyes. I got at least 6 in my eyes, and at least that many up my nose. At one point I got so frustrated that I stopped and yelled curse words at the top of my lungs. But the gnats weren't offended.There were several vistas, but I was too frustrated to stop. I was on a mission to get to Port Clinton. I did stop at the Hertline Campsite. On any other occasion, I would have stopped there for the night. Three different spring conjoined and wove through several flat, yet layered camping areas. It reminded me of a wedding cake with staggered tiers, the water running between them. Big pine trees with their webbed roots clung to small, deep, icy pools. And, yes, I stripped down and climed in one. The cold water felt shocking. My knees and ankles ached and then relaxed. It would have been the perfect way to end the day, but my days journey was not yet complete. there were still rocks to trip over and bugs to collect in my eyes. I gave myself a little pep-talk and headed on. I was tired and any good the cold water soak had done was soon erroded away. I tripped and stumbled and caught my toe on the sharp. irregular shaped rocks. My feet and ankles twisted at odd angles as I stepped awkwardly and tired along the 'trail.' I gasped in pain a few times. My feet weren't meant to pull and twist at those angles. I stopped to consider a few campsites, but they weren't right. I was determined to get to the Fort Dietrich Snyder monument, and at this point, it was a purely mental exercise. And finally, there it was. There was a pre-existing campsite that was a bit of over-grown vegetation. But the vegetation was soft. The surrounding area is pretty marshy, and the frogs are singing away. I was too tired to cook, so I just finished off a bag of trailmix and a crushed bag of cheez-its. I'm leaving my sweaty clothes hanging on the clothes line. I hope it doesn't rain tonight. The lightning bugs seem to already have gone to bed, so I guess I should, too.