Date: 2018-05-24
From: Wind Gap, PA

To: Deer Head Inn, Delaware Water Gap 
Miles today: 15.5

Way back on October 18, I related the story of my being treated as a homeless person by the patrons of Worthington¢s Bakery at Culver Gap in New Jersey. I was seated on the sidewalk, leaning against the storefront, enjoying fresh doughnuts, coffee and juice, when pious church goers emerged with flats of cinnamon buns. I had written doughnuts, but I was mistaken. Two of them assumed I was homeless and flipped me quarters, earning my most sincere God Bless You¢s. This afternoon, in Delaware Water Gap, I learned more about the story of Worthington¢s Bakery. But first I have to get here. I didn¢t sleep well last night in my unairconditioned deluxe accommodations at the Travel Inn. I won¢t say that I woke up, more just got tired of lying there and got up. My cold still raged, but a hot shower helped a good deal. About 6, I walked over to the Gap Diner, planning to get something light, my appetite still suppressed. Instead I ordered one of the specials, a sausage and cheddar omelette, home fries (the really good ones that have lots of golden crunchiness from the grill), whole wheat toast and coffee. It may have been the caffeine, but I started to feel better and cleaned my plate. I went back and loaded up my pack, moving to a chair in front of the office to await Lofi, my Ghanaian driver from yesterday. 8:15, the agreed upon time past, but I figured that he was on West African time and waited another 25 minutes. I phoned him at 8:40. Hadn¢t I gotten the message? He was unable to keep the appointment and had arranged for the motel to drive me to the trail at his cost, since I had prepaid him yesterday. No, I didn¢t receive the message, but yes they did and I arrived at the trailhead at 9:00, feeling puny, as they say in the South, and needing to hike 15.5 miles. I met Turtle, a mid-40¢s thru hiker at the trailhead and we walked together up the steep hill and for about an hour. He works at ski resorts in Colorado and is thinking of relocating to Vermont. Walking with someone took my mind off my nose and throat. The trail was rocky in places but not unduly so for Pennsylvania. He moved ahead eventually and I hiked at a slower pace, stopping for lunch in a clearing along the trail with a comfortable rock. I enjoyed some of the food I bought yesterday, a fresh sesame seed bagel with sopressata and a Gruyere cheese blend stick. A bit after lunch, Turtle came up behind me and we walked together until we met Kidska, part of my tramily. Kidska received her degree in chemical engineering from Ohio State University and is taking time to hike the Trail before entering the work force. She is more brilliant than she realizes and what the old novels used to term a boon companion. She¢s a bit slower than I am, because she sees more, and a slower hiking speed is just what I needed with the way I was feeling. We even sat on a bench by Lake Lenape outside of Delaware Water Gap, enjoying an antic young Labrador Retriever intent on repeating rescuing a rubber ball, and northern water snakes cavorting in the shallows. I had emailed the Deer Head Inn in DWG hoping to stay there tonight, but had no answer and their telephone went unanswered. We stopped there and I was delighted to be accepted in a small queen room. It is exquisite, like a B&B, with a spacious walk-in shower and generous supplies of soap, shampoo and conditioner. The room air condition works quietly and the bed is marvelously firm with a cushion top. I was also offered access to their washer and drier. I feel a little guilty. Kidska and the others are staying at the hiker hostel run by the Presbyterian Church of the Mountain. The Deer Head Inn was built as an Inn in the mid-19th century and became a jazz club in the 1950¢s. It is America¢s oldest continually operating jazz club!After showering, I quickly walked down to the outfitter for a gas canister. They close at six and wouldn¢t reopen until 10 in the morning. I hope to be hiking by then. I remembered that the DWG Diner was around the corner and walked over to see what time it opened for breakfast. It had been renamed the Apple Pie Caf© and looked closed. I went over to the adjacent Apple Pie Bakery, having fond memories from my last visit in DWG. One man looked both jovial and official. Charlie Cooper is the owner of both and for the moment the caf© is closed. The bakery serves breakfast starting at 8AM, and I¢m not leaving town without it. We kept talking and I found out that his grandfather Mr Worthington had started his Bakery at Culver Gap, New Jersey, based on the fame of his cinnamon buns. The bakery had been transferred to his son not too long before I enjoyed their doughnuts. Charlie himself never baked the cinnamon buns, and still won¢t, since it would mean waking up at 2AM. Instead he is famous for his pies. He shared his travails if searching for a healthier alternative to lard for his crusts. He thinks that he had found it in cottonseed oil. I¢ll judge for myself tomorrow, after I enjoy one of his breakfast sandwiches. He also encouraged me to explore Kittatinny Ridge above Culver Gap for family momentos. The only time the cinnamon buns are made now are for Worthington family reunions. I regret that I never tried one that Sunday morning 20 years ago I walked back up to the Deer Head Inn, started a load of laundry, and went down for dinner. Ah, ecstasy! A cup of gazpacho that is better than mine and a broiled lobster tail salad, with the lobster perfectly done. Mindful of St Benedict who prescribed red wine for ill monks, I enjoyed a perfectly balanced glass of Cabernet Sauvignon. It actually burned my throat at first but the pain was replaced with a mellow warmth. I can hear that the jazz sets have started below. It¢s a pickup night. I am ignorant of jazz, but my mind is open and my palette open as well to a local beer. I feel like I will sleep well tonight and put this cold behind me quickly.I will pass through Culver¢s Gap on Sunday, visiting a local diner and grocery. I¢ll reflect on the Worthington family and try to imagine young Charlie Cooper playing on the ridge