Date: 2016-06-09
From: Tom Levardi's, Dalton, MA 

To: Bascom Lodge
Miles today: 17.4

Tom offered us all doughnuts, pasties and scrambled eggs in his home this morning. I'd never received such treatment. Seriously, Tom is the most amazing trail angel you'll ever meet, and his own hospitality seems so ingrained in his personality that he doesn't even need to emote his own happiness to do it. I tried to pack up quickly and made it back to the trail, aka Tom's driveway, by about 7:45 after many profuse thanks. It was truly cold out for the first time in weeks. I stopped by the gas station in town to pick up a few snacks. I was going to try and grab meals in Cheshire for lunch and on top of Greylock for dinner, but I wanted to make sure I had something if those didn't work out. As the roadwalk finally turned back into the woods, I noticed a large group of hikers in front of me. The first one I caught up to was Spidey! I haven't seen him since his trip to trail days. He shaved and looks very different now. We caught up and passed NASCAR, whom I hadn't seen since Waynesboro VA. I was moving fast this morning and left them behind and soon passed Magic as well. They had all spent a day and a half in Dalton at the shamrock inn, which Spidey described as only one step up from the Doyle. The nine miles to Cheshire went very quickly and after drinking in the great view of Greylock from Cheshire Cobble, I found myself back on paved streets, hankering lunch. I also passed by P-Stout, who was slack packing south back to Tom's, where he had a steak dinner waiting. Lucky. The one really good looking lunch place didn't open for an hour, and I was wondering what to do when magic caught up. We walked together over to route 8, where I just decided to go to Dunkin donuts about five minutes away, and magic took a trip to a local outfitter to try and replace his pole tips. Outside Dunks I found Chris, aka Becker, who had stayed at the Shamrock with all the folks last night, as well as Gadget, whom I hadn't met but who Magic says I would get along with. I got a sandwich and some donuts and headed out with Chris up the beginning of the Greylock climb. Greylock takes forever to climb, not only because it is high (the first time back above 3000 feet since Virginia) but because it is a long south/north ridge. The climb really took it out of me. But I powered up the last half mile, excited for the views and the promise of a hot meal and a warm bed at Bascom Lodge, where Chris had convinced me to stay the night. The views were pretty incredible. The lighthouse/observation tower on top is closed for renovations, but the views are still just commanding, as the terrain just drops right off of the Summit. I could see back to Bear Mountain in Connecticut, the Catskills in New York, Monadnock in Southern New Hampshire, and from a different viewpoint, the green mountains of Vermont that I will be entering in a few days' time, Glastenbury and Stratton mountains in the distance. The wind was whipping and it was very chilly up there. I entered the Bascom Lodge, which is a large stone hut with a small hotel and restaurant inside. They have a bunkroom that only cost 35 dollars for thru-hikers, and I asked for a night there. Phillip, the man working reception, told me that unfortunately, both 20-person bunkrooms were booked up. I was shocked, honestly, it being a Thursday, and sat in a chair in the lobby/sitting area just poring over the AWOL guide to see what to do. I didn't particularly want to walk 4 more miles to a shelter, or 10 more to north Adams, and I needed at least some food here. I was surprised when Phillip took me aside to talk to me. He told me that he had just talked to the owner, and that he would very happily rent me a bunk bed in a larger private room for the same price as one in the bunkroom! I couldn't believe my luck! Privacy and a bigger room for the same price! I told him that I also had a friend coming up and asked if the same deal might be possible, to which he said of course. Now sure that I was staying the night, I went and had a bowl of soup in the restaurant. A few minutes later, Chris walked in, and asked if he was "the friend," at which I smiled and said yes. He had apparently gotten the same response when he asked about the bunkroom that I did, but then asked if any other thru hikers were around, and Phillip told him I was, and that I was holding a place for a friend. He was overjoyed that everything had worked out despite all seeming to be lost. Phillip showed us into our room, where we put our stuff down and I promptly went for my first showrr since leaving home a week ago. When I got out, I found the whole group of thru hikers sitting around the lounge area; they all decided that 14 miles would not cut it today and were heading for Wilbur Clearing Shelter. Chris, in addition to being a wonderful guy to start with, was in a generous mood, and bought them all a round of beers. Then, who should walk into the lodge but Santi the Brit, hobbling on his poles with one ankle up in the air. Apparently he sprained his ankle quite badly, dropped his pack and hobbled his way a half mile to the first road crossing up Greylock, and hitched his way to the summit. He expectantly asked which of us was willing to go get his pack for him, and the response was unsurprisingly unenthusiastic. He had only started a few days ago, hes 19, and both show; he's not a very conscientious hiker. While most of the hikers scattered so as not to deal with him, and I kind of demurred, believing that he should take responsibility for his own crap, Chris sprang into action. Within a few minutes, he had found an older couple willing to drive back down with him to go to the road crossing, and he and the Brit headed off while I stuck around with the wife of the couple, talking about her job as an archaeologist. The hikers all headed out, and eventually Chris and the Santi the Brit returned. At my suggestion, Santi called Tom, who - AMAZINGLY - offered to come get him from the top of Greylock. Tom was there shortly, accompanied by P-Stout, and still in a jolly mood despite the circumstances. The guy is amazing. We loaded the Brit into the car and sat down after what was a strange few hours for me and a hectic few hours for Chris. We both agreed that the Brit was not exactly the most mature hiker. Soon enough it was dinner time, and Chris and I headed into the restaurant for what we called our little "Man-Date." Everything was delicious, and we popped out before dessert to watch the sun go down, only able to brave the 35 degree weather and 30 mph winds for a few minutes. Chris is an exceedingly nice guy, very funny, and very easy to talk to. I hope my family gets to meet him later, as they would hit it off. Chris is from Connecticut, so it could happen. After a debacle involving the ladder I was using to get to the top bunk, it was time to go to bed. It has been an eventful, but truly fun day. Tomorrow into Vermont!