Date: 2008-08-15
From: Hanover, New Hampshire

To: Hanover, New Hampshire
Miles today: 0.0

I didn't do a lot today...and that was nice for a change of pace. :-)Mother Nature has been sending out updates about her walk and I normally just delete them because they are sooooo long, but I happened to read #6 and thought that since I really didn't do anything today worth writting about, it might be fun to see my walk through someone elses eyes, so I copied and pasted the terrible things Mother Nature had to say about part of our week of walking together back in PA. Here it is; AT 2008 Update #6Eckville Shelter-LeHigh Gap (Palmerton, PA) July 1-July 3, 2008 Eckville Shelter got a whole lot better when Stumpknocker got there! The ogre wasn't much company. Smokestack spent most of the day reading his book and smoking his pipe. He's never going to be Chatty Kathy and "carrying on" ain't one of his character traits. All the hikers from the day before had left. I needed someone to talk to! Stumpknocker would be a good adversary to spar with for a few days. He is an expert at good-natured needling and has a great sense of humor. He's a pro at finding someone's weak spot and exploiting it in a way that makes you laugh and he's good at accepting reflections of his own quirks. In the AT world, Stumpknocker and for that matter, Smokestack are naturals. Both don't care if they smell like wild boars; actually seem to relish it. If they were dogs they would roll around in a mud wallow just for the thrill of it. While others struggle to maintain a small handhold to the real world they can let go. The only way to get them to replace offensive smelling or worn out gear is to bury it. It must be a man thing. Stumpknocker firmly believes that clothing should never be taken to the laundromat. It's a waste of time and energy. His solution is to wash his clothes while showering. You don't have to mess with a towel either. You simply step right out of the shower in your wet clothes and use your body heat to dry them. Works for him. Don't get me wrong! Stumpknocker does like his creature comforts. If given a choice he gladly accepts a night in a Holiday Inn Express with a pillow topped mattress. An all-you-can-eat buffet with lots of hot coffee beats Fritos and tuna any day. But at the same time he can reduce life to it's barest extremes and be just as happy. In the early part of this year's AT thruhike, Stumpknocker took off a few months to bicycle 3000 miles across America from San Diego to San Augustine, FL. He stored his backpacking gear in our shed. When he reached California he realized he had forgotten an important item in his pack. He asked me to express mail it to him. I opened up his pack to find the item and was engulfed in a cloud of hiker funk so bad my eyes watered. When asked if he laundered his clothes before storing them he said, "Oops!" Donning rubber gloves and a borrowed HAZMAT suit I fished out the clothes and soaked them in 20 Mule Team Borax to remove the odor. [Note: distilled white vinegar works better.] Sadly it didn't help at all. After completing the Southern Tier bicycle route he stopped by our cabin and collected his backpacking gear. Within a couple of days he was back on the AT heading north with plans to attend Trail Days in Damascus, VA. While in Damascus, Mrs. Gorp told him to ditch the scanky shirt and spring for a new one at the outfitters! Three consecutive thru hikes in the same shirt is enough! She emailed me that she successfully got him to bury the blue shirt and he left town sporting a new green one. I tell you this story because the first thing he asked me when I got my welcome hug at Eckville was, "Do you think my new shirt is sufficiently broken in?" It was. Phew! I also noticed when he took off his shoes to head to the shower that he really wasn't wearing socks. The only part of the socks left after 1200 miles was the elastic band around the ankles. It gives the appearance of wearing socks without all that bunching in your shoes. He felt he had another couple of hundred miles left in this pair. He seemed quite excited that we were going to slackpack for a while. He had really pushed to meet us and looked forward to a few easier days. He was also excited to have access to a vehicle, as "wheels" equals "food" in his mind. We hadn't eaten supper yet but he said questioningly, "We'll have enough time for breakfast in the morning, huh?" It must have been on his mind all night because the first thing he said in the morning was, " Is it far back to 3Cs for breakfast?" I smiled and told him it wasn't because we had "wheels". He broke into a grin that started the sun to shine. I was happy too because I was thinking, Farmers Omelet! It was a great day to walk. The trail was mostly on a flat forest service road to start. We met Meatbag and Doxie on the trail. We stopped by the Allentown Hiking Club Shelter to check out the trail register and gobble down a snack. The next bubble of hikers must be passing as Neon, CC Rider, Old Buzzard and Gator stopped by for a chat. We hadn't seen this many hikers in days. Yesterday afternoon while we were all sitting at the Eckville Shelter in the shadow of the ogre's gloom, a car passed honking like crazy. The car turned around and came to a screeching halt in front of the house. A middle aged lady and a teen-age boy shot out of the car and headed toward the house. The ogre spilled out the back door on a dead run at the sound of the horn. The three of them talking loudly all at the same time headed inside. We couldn't tell if they were fighting or competing for airtime. As quickly as they arrived they left. We met the woman and her son on the trail today. Stumpknocker makes it a point to talk to everyone he meets and take their picture. She identified herself as Cindy Ross and introduced her son, Bryce. It seems, Bryce, needed to do some community service work, and they had borrowed pruning tools from the ogre to work off hours doing trail maintenance. It wasn't clear how much help Cindy would be as her forearms and fingers were loaded down with heavy silver jewelry. I don't think I had ever seen that much silver before; certainly not on the trail. Her conversation with Stumpknocker revealed that she had hiked all three major US trails¢¦the AT, Pacific Crest Trail and the Continental Divide Trail. I recognized the name and asked if she was also the author of several backpacking books. She grinned and said, "Yes." The trail picked up steam getting a little more rugged. It headed over a few boulder fields and climbed to Dan's Pulpit. After working up a good sweat it was time for a long break. One nice thing about big rocks; they make great chairs. A mailbox with Dan's Pulpit painted on the side was attached to a tree; inside was a trail register. Stumpknocker retrieved it, signed the book then attached a few of his smiley face stickers. I peered inside the mailbox looking for a loose pen; there is usually one hanging around. Finding the box empty I asked Stumpy if I could borrow his pen to sign the register as he still had it in his hand. He replied, "NOOOoooo!" Quite sharply and rude I might add! "No one uses my red pen! How will my important message stand out from all the others if you write in red near it?" This selfish behavior forced me to dig in my pack to see if I had a pen; thankfully I did. I took the time to note in the register that he was selfish and mean. Much later, while checking his online journal I was surprised to find that he had taken a picture of this journal entry and posted it for the world to see. He had snuck back to see what I wrote and crossed out my comments about him and wrote in red over the top that he was a nice and kind man. It doesn't matter. I wrote in blue ink; they will all know I was right. Since we walked southbound today we ended up back at Eckville Shelter, which meant we had to drive to back to our starting trailhead to recover one of the vehicles. Stumpknocker attempted to make up for his selfishness by offering to drive and I let him because it is important to let people atone. Smokestack was a big reluctant at first but I talked him into taking us all out to dinner. What good does it do you to have "wheels" if you don't use them? We took a chance and asked the ogre where we could find a decent restaurant. You have to listen closely as he only says something once and it is usually rapid fire accompanied by erratic hand gestures. We picked up enough clues to head toward civilization. There were several small food possibilities along the route but nothing that cried out for us to stop. You don't usually find fine dining in the same building with an oil change. There didn't seem to be a lot of options in Orwigsville, PA. I spotted a sign that said Roman Delight and we decided to give the place a try. The exterior was rather unassuming and we weren't sure if it was a restaurant or a furniture store. The minute we opened up the front door and got a whiff we knew immediately this was going to be something special. It was hands-down the best Italian Restaurant in the world. When we left, Stumpy said that he would make it back to this restaurant on a future thruhike even if he had to hire a cab. I had ordered a pizza and it was so huge I could only eat two large slices. The remaining six succulent pieces would be our lunch tomorrow! When we got back to the shelter I made pizza sandwiches. With cheese sides together I wrapped them in plastic wrap and dropped them in the cooler. Near sunset back at the shelter, an Israeli father, Moses, and son arrived for the night. Black Snake had just finished his two-year compulsory military service and the father/son team was spending quality time together thruhiking the AT. They were pressing hard to make it to New York to meet Black Snake's mother. She was going to join them on the trail for a while. The next morning since we were still in range headed back to 3Cs, which would be Stumpknocker's third trip, but my fifth 3Cs breakfast! Thank God for wheels! Several hikers arrived while we were eating; most knew Stumpknocker and wandered over for a chat. Liberty and VA Mountain Goat were already there. Forecast and Aggie were ready to leave Port Clinton after breakfast. Stumpy told us that Forecast had contracted Lyme disease back in Front Royal, VA. Recovered from that ailment he had just returned from the ER learning he now had kidney stones. The doctor told him he might just as well keep walking until they passed. Ouch! Forecast's full trail name is Shitty Forecast. Rather apt moniker I would think. We shuttled the vehicles after breakfast. We walked northbound into Palmerton. It's a good thing I don't have a crystal ball. I came close to death today and I would have been mad if I didn't get to eat my share of the leftover pizza. Things were going well at first. We reached New Tripoli Campsite and little rocks became very big rocks. I was doing quite well as I prefer large rocks to little rocks. With large rocks you can hop right along as long as they are flat or not angled too much. It is easy to roll an ankle if the rock is mossy or tilted. I occasionally would come to a spot where the step down or up to a rock was more than I could do without some gymnastic maneuver. There would be Smokestack and Stumpknocker poised with their cameras ready to capture my humiliating pose for eternity. We reached a spot known as the Knife Edge. The ridge rocks are large sharp edged slabs hanging at a 45-degree angle off the side of the mountain. The only way across is along the top narrow edge of each slab. We approached the Knife Edge quite close together. I didn't see what the footing was like until I was right on top of it. Stumpknocker had successfully crossed and waited for Smokestack. With two long legged men in front of you it is hard to see what lies ahead. I was doing fine until Smokestack stopped ahead of me and turned to see how I was doing as soon as he crossed the slabs. He didn't know I was right behind him. When he stopped I had to stop. I was teetering on the edge of a slab. I shifted my poles to my left hand and my momentum changed. My weight shifted. My right foot twisted and I started to fall backward off the mountain. Tossing my hiking sticks, I jerked forward and snagged two fingers over a rock. I got just enough purchase to pull my weight back toward the mountain and I scrabbled with my right foot to find a solid foothold while my left hand grasped the edge of the rock slab. My right leg became wedged in a crevice at the shin. Stumpknocker was stunned, as he was poised as usual with his camera to take my picture crossing the Knife Edge never dreaming he might capture my final moments. His picture shows me just as I regained the top. I tugged my leg loose and sat down straddling the rock checking for broken bones. Neither guy said a word for a long time. It rattled all of us for a while. I wouldn't know how badly it had rattled me until the next day when we climbed out of Palmerton. As soon as I was ready we continued on. After we walked for a while, Stumpknocker asked if he could take a picture of my skinned shin. Sure. Why not. When we came to Bear Rocks I took a deep breath and started over them. I spotted Stumpknocker with the camera again and I gave him a withering look. He scampered away smirking. We came to a large rocky area known as Bake Oven Knob. The name says it all. It was a hot open exposed rocky area. One large triangular rock actually has Bake Oven Knob carved in it. Judy Schilling had told me that her son, Nicholas and friends were frequent visitors to this area. It is a very popular local hangout. There is an old shelter nearby; Bake Oven Knob Shelter built in 1937. The lure of those pizza sandwiches finally won over and we ate lunch. We moaned and groaned with pleasure. We would continue along this rocky ridge. Rain clouds were threatening but it didn't start sprinkling until we reached another shelter just before dropping into Palmerton. We stopped at the George W. Outerbridge Shelter to sign the register and fight over the red pen again. It started to rain hard for a few minutes and we waited for the storm to pass. As we dropped down the last mile into Lehigh Furnace Gap, I got a good glance at the climb out of Palmerton. Today's little misadventure has me more than a little apprehensive about tomorrow. Wasn't that terrible...all the things Mother Nature said about me?? Well, all except the opening sentence when she said; "Eckville Shelter got a whole lot better when Stumpknocker got there!". That is understandable. ;-)I'll be attending The Long Trail Festival in Rutland, VT this whole weekend. Hope to see some of you there. :-)