Date: 2003-06-06
From: Pine Knob Shelter, MD

To: Deer Lick Shelter, PA
Miles today: 22.3
Weather: overcast clouds

The sun, while not exactly shining, is lighting up the clouds.More importantly, it is Not Raining. TWO days in a row? Oh, swoon...I get a late start for a long day, about 7:30. I pass Annapolis Rocks, with their view of the busy Cumberland Valley below. The trail follows the western cliffs for a ways.The trail is often a trough, either a mudpit or a swamp. It is impossible to avoid getting soaked socks and shoes. The water crossings are very full, and most of the stepping rocks are underwater. The feet just feel oooky. That's right, only the newly-invented, patent-pending word "oooky" will do.In the Red and I leapfrog all morning, and finally decide to try to hitch together into Smithsburg, MD for lunch. Hot coffee holds a certain appeal.Car after car passes us on the busy highway, so we eventually sit on the pavement and eat our lunches. We still stick our thumbs out, out of pure cussedness, but no one stops then either.Red hits another gear after lunch, and is gone. I trudge on. The sun is coming out! Sun! The woods here are largely chestnut oak and hickory. The terrain is very rocky, and often ruggedly hilly. Why did I think Maryland was flat?The day's wildlife includes about a billion stripey chipmunks racing through the leaves and sounding like deer. I nearly stepped on a large box turtle on the Trail, who didn't even retract its head much. Not that worried about me, I guess. Then it crawled on down the path. A thru-hiking turtle, to join the cow, deer and turkey AT sojourners. I also startled - mutually - a non-poisonous dark snake. How large? Large enough. After we both recovered from our surprise, he glided across the leaves without ruffling them. How do they do that, not turn a leaf?One chapter and I am hooked on Kelly's book "The Secret Life of Bees." A good book tugs at you all day when you are doing other things than reading it. Like walking. Maybe I should get Books on Tape if the going gets really rough. That would keep the spirits up.I must say, though rainless, Maryland has been a disappointment. Eroded, swampy troughs for trails - what else could they be but holding ponds when it rains? Waterbars seem nonexistent, footbridges only a memory. I completely soak my feet three separate times, and wet them innumerable times. Filthy water squishes out with each step.Why not take my shoes off and wade through the torrent, or the swamp? It's not practical. It's not like there is a friendly bench, or even a rock, to rest on while taking off the shoes. No, you would have to sit right down in the mud, ticks and poison ivy. And you would have to be taking the footwear off every 30 yards in some places.My socks are sodden and bunched, rubbing my feet raw. My toes are pruned and sore. The knees ache from the rocky descents. I am weary, in need of a rest and ibuprofen. And there are miles to go.Respite, you say?Up comes Pen-Mar Park, with it's telephone, bathrooms, sunny lawns, pavilions and drink machines. Not to mention a wonderful view of the Cumberland Valley to the west. That sinking-sun vista gives me an ache inside I can't identify. So commences the happiest time of my entire day. The sun is mellow. A ranger gives me change for the drink machine. I gather my pocketmail - dad is on antibiotics again for that cough that won't go away, and I connect with a long-lost cousin in Vermont. I think about moving on - that inexorable pull northward. But so may conveniences are right here, including the westerly sun. I stay.I wash my hands and face in sure-enough hot water in the bathrooms. I fill my water bottles, and cook my supper - Mountain House Lasagna, thank you Kelly and Jerry - at a picnic table near the western slope. The hot, sinking sun is burning a hole into my back; it feels wonderful. The laughter of the kids on the nearby swings floats in the early evening air; lovers stroll by and sit in the sunset pavilion, gazing west at the same view that makes me ache so sweetly. To top it all off, I can drop my pepsi can and supper trash right into a waiting, nearby trash can instead of carrying the smelly mess for days. What more in life could a gal want?My last act is to put on new socks. Foot care is critical in weather like this. I had removed my shoes and their insoles to dry in the rare sun as soon as I'd sat down. Then I rubbed an anti-fungal on my poor, cracked feet and let them air out in flip-flops. No athlete's foot wanted on this hiker.After supper, the socks were still soaking wet, but the shoes and insoles had achieved a state of not-so-wetness. I'd learned the trick of putting on fresh socks on from my thru-hiker friend Trooper: "For awhile, it feels like you have new feet."Now I have happy feet. It's remarkable how much better they feel.And I feel downright perky after a rest and a bite to eat.My step is almost jaunty as I follow the white blazes through the park, over the railroad tracks and up to the Mason-Dixon line. This is it - I am leaving the South. I am pleased to say good-bye to Maryland. Come on, Pennsylvania, show me what you got! I'm ready to take you on.I walk the next five miles with the setting sun a burning orange ball on my left. How does that saying go, "red at night, sailor's delight?" I'd forgotten what a pleasure it was to walk late into the day, this time of evening. With all this rain, it's been a daily dash to a shelter.I feel intensely peaceful, full tummied, hydrated, dry-footed.It is nearly dark, a little after 9 pm, when I see Deer Lick shelters appear in the gloom. Yuck! More wet! The place is a swamp of standing water and running rivulets.Deer Lick shelter is actually two shelters, on swampy ground. I can see no tent sites in all the wetness. I don't know what I'd have done if there wasn't room inside.Turnaround is there, and In The Red. They move over and make room for me. There is also a section hiker down, who I never meet. He is snoring away.I prepare my bed as quietly as possible, and turn in. I can't find my second earplug, and I don't want to make a lot of rustling as everyone is down to sleep. So I make do. Every time I turn over in the night, I switch the earplug to the topmost ear. It helps, but only a little.