Date: 2011-06-10
From: Best Western, Lickdale

To: 501 Shelter
Miles today: 11.3
Weather: clear sky

(In which I reach the 501 shelter and meet River Rat again)At the continental breakfast I forget to spray the waffle iron with its non-stick spray, and when I open the iron the waffle separates to stick to both sides of the iron. I attempt to scrape the pieces off, and get one side partially detached when the breakfast station girl comes to assist. She tries to close the iron to flip it over, and in the process crushes the piece I had partially dislodged. "Sorry dude, I think I just killed your waffle," she says, and we laugh as our combined efforts to save the waffle only make things worse. When I finally fill my plate with the waffle scrapings, the girl examines my plate. "If there were prizes for mangling waffles, you'd take the gold," she teases me. "I couldn't have done it without you," I say modestly. "It was a team effort," she concedes. She chats with me while I eat breakfast, and I recall that prime advantages of the off-trail world is the existence of cute, single girls who sometimes like to flirt.I stop by the deli at the general store for some bagels, having struck out at all of the gas stations. "So you just want four plain bagels?" the deli clerk asks, confused. "You don't want me to toast them or anything?" At the checkout I pick up a slice of Shoefly Pie, my first in years, and I chat with a local while I eat the pie on the store's porch. When I leave to start hitching, another local who overheard me on the porch stops and gives me a ride back to the trail.I run into Twigg taking a break, and we are both excited about ordering pizza from the 501 shelter. Twigg leaves first and offers to order some cheesy bread and soda for me. When I get to the shelter Twigg tells me that River Rat, whom I haven't seen since the first day into PA, already hitched to town, so we decide to hitch in after him instead of ordering pizza. Shakey shows up right after a pickup stops to pick us up. We toss our packs in the bed of the pickup and climb in after them, but the driver waves us up to the cab. Riding in the open bed of a pickup truck is apparently illegal in PA, and for the first time I miss the south.We poke our heads in each of the four restaurants in town, and find River Rat in the Mustang Inn, the cheap tavern whose menu in the shelter had a handwritten note boasting, "Hotties! Ask for Sharron!" River Rat has gotten a buzz cut since I last met him, and he looks like a strange cross between a skin head and a red neck, as he cheerfully admits. We all hang out at the bar, eating and talking and using the free credits on the jukebox. River Rat and Twigg play pool, each outdoing the other in their inability to make a shot, and five minutes in they still haven't determined who's stripes and who's solids. We hang out until our bartender, Michelle, finishes her shift and gives us all a ride back to the trail.We hang out at the shelter with Rain Dance, who arrived while we were in town, and Bean, who shows up shortly before dark. Twigg, who does a pretty good imitation of a southern accent, compares River Rat's to that of Bean Pole, another hiker from Alabama, whom I never met. River Rat takes mock offense, claiming that Beanpole's accent is hippy-redneck, and his own merely redneck. I'm happy to see River Rat again, but sad to think that this will probably be the last night I see him on the trail.Tomorrow I start hiking with friends from Pittsburgh and am looking forward to the opportunity to show off the AT trail experience.