Date: 2016-06-05
From: Sussex, NJ

To: Tomorrow: Wildcat Shelter
Miles today: 51.9
Weather: overcast clouds

Box Turtle here, reporting from a beautiful public library in Warwick, NY, just over the NJ border. About 260 miles into the hike now--approximately a third of the way, and feeling great. It's been a relatively lazy week, with a zero day Tuesday while El Loco (henceforth to be referred to as "Mr. Boxy")was visiting, and another today, due to bad weather. I've holed up for two nights at the Meadowlark Farm B&B which is very restful: early 19th century farmhouse with an English proprietress and her garden, horse, dog and cat, and a comfortable bedroom (to myself!) with three windows and a shared bath down the hall. Dorothy, my hostess, has driven me and two other hikers into town for the afternoon and dinner. The other hikers are White Stone, a ceramic artist from Sedona, AZ and her 19-yr. old son, Dweller, who are hiking a section of the AT, heading south, from Pawling, NY. They chose to tent in Dorothy's yard, which impresses Box Turtle with their toughness (since it rained all night). Last night, White Stone nicely lent BT $20 when BT forgot to take her money into town for dinner. (Here in Warwick, that entailed some rationing:I needed to order the least expensive sandwich on the menu and limit myself to a single draft beer in order to cover it and a tip with $20. I promised my server I'd be back tonight, with more generosity!) Another aside here: it's a little humbling to come into an obviously prosperous town like Warwick on Saturday night in baggy/torn hiker clothes, goofy plastic shoes, no make-up, and a "purse" consisting of a ziplock bag and scour the menu at a nice place for the cheapest items. A first world problem, right? Then I got a ride back to my comfy farmhouse bed.The AT continues to impress and delight, with great scenery in NJ. Multiple views over extensive wooded ridges and rural valleys stretching to the horizon have been nothing short of astonishing. Two days ago, near Vernon, I hiked through a wetlands on a nearly mile-long elevated boardwalk, including benches for resting and a suspension bridge over a stream. (Box Turtle looked down with superiority on her fellow turtles way down below as she easily scurried across.) It was mid-morning, so not optimal for birding, but still there was a steady chorus in the air and, in the distance, a couple of noisy Barred Owls! I met a local resident who walks through it and back every day as a fitness ritual. Annoyingly for you, I was too captivated with the experience to think to take a picture. For me, it was one of the trail's scenic highlights,more so for being totally unheralded and unexpected. I love that about the AT: the ordinary always, eventually, gives way to the extraordinary.Yesterday's hike included the so-called "stairway to heaven," a pretty steep ascent of about a mile up Wawayanda Mountain. I was wet as though I'd been swimming when I got to the top, though this sort of climb was familiar from Georgia/NC. Passed several locals who said they hike it, up and down, for fitness, regularly. Without packs, I noticed, smugly. My fellow hiker, Seeker,got off trail this week and flew home to Atlanta from NY. Maybe the deprivations of the trail are not as easily tolerated by people who've had more dramatically-scenic or exotic experiences--hiking, for instance,in Nepal, the Dolomites,or the Scottish Highlands--only several of the places my friend has been. The "Why am I doing this?" question seems to loom larger. I continue to get daily satisfaction from managing the details of the trip; discovering new things about places I haven't been but have often been near; the daily physical workout; the extended time outdoors; the expansion of knowledge of plants and animals, especially birds; and the experience of managing one's thoughts all day. The latter includes, in my case,as you know, a large dose of poetry recitation and memorization. Added to these positives are the absence of some negatives, namely, the daily, repetitive household routines. My trail routines are, at least, performed in the act of Traveling On. I suppose, now that I think about this, I might do well to try and cultivate a similar sense of "traveling on"--by this I mean moving forward with life, making progress--when I return home to the daily routines I've left behind. Thinking of chores and uninteresting commitments as the necessary work that enables the more fulfilling activities, whatever those are. I think quite a few of us hikers are out here wondering what those "more fulfilling activities" are, exactly! Obviously, we're lucky to have this sort of problem, that only appears when all of one's basic needs are being met. Please forgive the introspection; I'm afraid it's an inevitable consequence of traveling mostly alone for several weeks!Have a difficult week ahead of me, with several 16+ mile days planned to atone for the relative luxury of this week. Look forward to adding my NJ poem to my trail recitations--courtesy of friend Jo, who supplied it in the nick of time: "Transition," by Dorothy Parker. Depressed, weird: "the terrible, slow loveliness of spring" has got me wondering. I think she may help ward off the bears.Thanks to a few of you who have sent messages, and warm wishes to any hapless readers!Gratitude remains the major feeling out here on the AT.