Date: 2011-07-18
From: West Virginia

To: Day 67 - 73
Miles today: 0.0

With a broken heart and a determined mind, I hung out at Pop's house for a few more days and repaired my gear, restocked on food, grabbed a knee brace, and swapped out for my cold-weather gear in preparation for The White Mountains. I also worked my ass off helping my dad lay pavers and build an exterior deck. No rest for the weary right? I got paid $150 for it though, which was just enough money to get me back to the trail. I hopped on the bus in Morgantown and got a ride up to Pittsurgh, PA. There I had an overnight layover until about 5:00 AM when I boarded th Amtrak train. Instead of sleeping in the Amtrak station and getting ready for my long trip like I should have, I decided to go out and get wasted to pass the time. I ended up at some gay bar for most of the night and then almost got in an altercation with a very cracked-out-looking gang banger while stumbling back to the train station at 4:00 AM. having not slept, I was pretty delirious by the time I boarded the train. The ride amounted to a an extended window-tour of every major city on the east coast that I've hiked passed since starting the trail, including Washington DC, Baltimore, Philadelphia, and New York City. I had a several-hour layover in NYC so I literally just walked around Manhattan puffing on my hash pipe that's disguised to look like a cigarette, with my backpack and all. That night I would up in Springfield, MA the end of the train. From there, it should have been a simple 130-mile hitch to get back to Killington and the AT. Unfortunately, things got weird in Massachusetts.   First of all, when I got there I was fully intending to just throw my sleeping bag down in the Amtrak station and sleep off my hangover from the night before. But, unfortunately, the Amtrak in Springfield isn't open 24-hours like the one in Pittsburgh. Thus, I found myself stuck in an unfamiliar city after midnight with nothing to do and nowhere to go. I made the best of the situation and stashed my pack under a park bench and went off looking for a drink. I quickly deduced that Springfield is a college town because the bar scene downtown is literally a riot comprised entirely of 20-somethings. College-town chaos is not exactly what I was in the mood for at the time so, after asking some locals, I find my way to the only bar in town that serves good beer. Good beer is what I was in the mood for at the time, apparently, and I sat there and drank a local IPA, a Dogfish Head 90-minute, a Dales Pale Ale, a free shot of Jameson, and 4-5 samples of local drafts in the 45 minutes I had until last call. I walked out of the bar wasted circa closing time, navigated through the sea of drunk college kids, retrieved my pack, and set off to find somewhere to urban stealth-camp. I got a tip that I would be murdered or at least mugged if I tried to sleep downtown so I walked for a mile or so until I got to the bridge over the Connecticut River. I noticed a small fire and a few people hanging out on the bank of the far side of the river and got excited for a minute. Maybe there were some fellow hikers just chillin' underneath some bridge is some town that is nowhere near the trail I thought to myself. I crossed the bridge and eagerly approached my new found friends. It turned out to be a fairly large group of Asians who literally got scared shitless when they saw me coming. They hopped in their car and sped away before I could even get close, leaving their fire still burning. They must have thought that I was some drunk homeless person, which I am, but I like to think that I'm harmless for the most part. I pirated their fire and built it up to my thru-hiker standards, puked my brains out right into the river, smoked a bunch of hash, and passed out in a lawn chair on the riverbank.   I was still in the lawn chair when I woke up but I had tipped over at some point in the night and I was flat on my back. This was lucky because the raindrops on my cheeks were an early warning sign that I needed to get the hell up and find cover. Miraculously, I manage to take refuge in a Dunkin Donuts before it started to rain too hard. I sat there and charged my phone and drank coffee and collected myself until my hangover was manageable enough for me to start moving. Then I highway-hiked up to the interstate, hid underneath an overpass while the rainstorm blew over, and proceeded to bake in the sun for several hours until I finally get a hitch. Fuck Massachusetts and all of its Massholes. The old man who picked me up was nice enough though; we discussed radical left-wing political ideology while he gave me a ride up to Bellows Falls. I sat there until I got picked up by Bear Claw, a dude who attempted to hike the AT back in 00' but got off at the DWG. He is grad student/skydiving instructor, first of all, and it turns out that we have been to a huge number of the same shows, festivals, and rainbow gatherings. This guy is obviously from Vermont. He gave me a ride all the way to some restaurant on VT 100. I was there for a while until this chick who was leaving the restaurant picked me up. Her and her husband are in their mid-20's and are 4 years away from retiring, liquidating their assets, and spending their lives hiking international scenic trails full-time. Vermont Vermont. She got me to this RV campground for people who like to spend the summer here. And that's where I am now, kind of. Even though I'm only 12 miles south of Killington, the sun went down on me and I wasn't able to get a hitch. So I walked across the street and politely asked the caretaker if I could set up my hammock between some trees in a vacant RV lot. He said that I would have to pay full-price and tried to charge me $27. I literally only have $20.25 to my name right now mind you. He even chastised me for using his water spigot to fill up my water bottle with the remark "You don't pay for that water do you?" I chuckled and thought about how I hadn't payed for water or to sleep outside in longer than I can remember. Then I essentially called the guy a fucking asshole with my eyes and turned around and started walking. No more than 30 or 40 steps passed the guy's property I found an old abandoned country store with a big porch and a sturdy roof so I just threw my sleeping bag down right there. Now I'm sitting here, puffing hash, eating noodles, catching up in my journal, and laughing at that greedy old man next door! I can't wait to get back home tomorrow.