Date: 2012-07-28
From: West Cornwall Road (CT)

To: West Cornwall Road (CT)
Miles today: 0.0

Day 109: N spends the day licking his wounds (which, of course, makes it tough to keep them sterile...)This was a day of hot compresses, antibiotics, several naps, and lots of early frustration at not being out on the trail. However, in the afternoon, when the rain that had put this whole area under a Flash Flood Watch arrived as predicted (and certainly felt like it was in the forecasted 3+ inches range) we both knew we were lucky not to be out in the woods. Instead, it seemed like a good afternoon to snuggle down and work on updating the daily report of ten days ago, to which we gave such short shrift at the time. So, here is 7/18 revisited:Day 99: Hunkered down below Prospect Rock (on a day of two halves) The temperature never dropped below 74° in town last night, so we knew we'd be in for muggy weather this morning. We also knew we were in for a climb right off the bat, as the ridge line and its rock outcroppings were plainly visible from the road out of Vernon NJ. As we started hiking at 6:30, the weather was hot and humid. The 900' climb in question was up the side of Wawayanda Mountain. Pronounced "Way-way-yon-dah," which sounds like a southeast pioneer expression for "a long distance." However, we are told by locals the term actually comes from a mid-Atlantic Indian word meaning "water in a ditch" (although with the water sources so dry, for us "water in a ditch" was a very infrequent phenomenon).The upper and lower sections of this climb showed evidence of a master trail builder at work, with natural stones formed into a series of rock steps that look like they have, and will continue to stand the test of time. However, in between top and bottom, it looked like the master builder had turned the job over to an inexperienced apprentice, as the quality of the work (and in some cases the steps themselves!) just disappeared.  As a result, there was a bit of boulder hopping involved. Most times X does not like stairs, but today she was not complaining when she had the use of those stable rock steps. The view from on top, although hazy, and the soft breeze were great rewards for our efforts. And a short distance later we encountered a final New Jersey bear, making NJ our state with the most bear sightings so far. Which provides a perfect segue back to how we got from the Episcopal hostel back out to the trail this morning...Our plan had been to go have breakfast at the local Burger King (at a busy intersection just a few hundred yards from the church), and while eating, try to spot another customer who might be heading north and be able to give us a ride to cover the 2.4 miles from town. However, at 6:15 the Burger King was still dark and locked up tighter than a tick. So we moved to the service station on the opposite corner. While N shopped for what might pass for breakfast, X approached a man, truck unseen, to ask about a ride, and on her first try successfully yogied us a ride.Leaving the store, we discovered the fellow drove a big dually pickup truck, which apparently also served as the office and storage shed for his landscaping business. After moving the chainsaw that had been riding shotgun to the back to make room for us, he put our packs in the bed with his mowing equipment and gas cans while we hopped in the large crew cab. On the short ride to the trailhead he asked if we'd seen any bears. We told him we'd seen more bears in New Jersey than in any other state: four in four days. We learned our chauffeur was a big-time bear hunter who had taken ten bear in his lifetime. Nine of these he'd killed with a bow and arrow! He bemoaned the short six-day New Jersey annual hunting season, to which he attributed the state's abundant bear population, and said he wished they'd make it at least two weekends long for bow and arrow. He said because of the short NJ season, nine of his total of ten bears had been killed in New York. Away from the trail he was not a man we would have had much in common with, but his perspective on the world was interesting and we certainly appreciated the ride...After we entered Wawayanda State Park, we found a short side trail (.2 mile) to the park's headquarters. Given this convenient source of water (with both a restroom and an outside spigot), we decided we couldn't pass up the opportunity to resupply water. So N hiked the 2/10 mile, while X stayed with the packs and made a phone call. Wanting a cold soda for X, N inquired as to the nearest vending machine and was told "at the beach, just 2.5 miles on down the road." With the word "just" assuming you were in a car. N looked so pitiful at this news he was able to yogi a real juice lemonade for X from the young girl at the desk. Moving on we covered nearly ten uneventful miles until we found ourselves approaching the NJ/NY state line. We were excited to be entering State #9, and luckily Gumby arrived in time to help us document it by taking our picture. We sat there talking in no particular hurry to move on. It's amazing how quickly things can change on the Appalachian Trail. And today it took all of ten minutes. We were resting at the state line, before tackling what we knew would be a very tough four-mile section.  Then we heard thunder in the distance and decided we needed to move on, although fully expecting we'd be able to outwalk any storm. Shortly after, as we passed Prospect Rock (an exposed ridge and the highest point on the AT in New York), the first rain drops arrived, and we hustled to get down into some kind of cover.Our brief discussion on whether to try to get yet a little lower became moot as the storm hit with full fury, and all we could do was hunker down on a narrow ledge, about ten feet below the ridge line and with at least some tree cover. We found a decent sitting rock evenly spaced between two pine trees that might help block the wind, but which we hoped weren't tall enough to act as automatic natural lightning rods. We pulled on our rain jackets and pack covers and sat down behind the tractor-trailer size boulder. Just as the rain hit, N remembered the large garbage bag at the very bottom of his pack that would have been great for sticking our feet in to keep our legs and shoes dry, but it was way too late to try pulling it out. Our little ledge was already becoming a stream...At first the lightning was over a mile away. Then there was less than a one second count between lightning and thunder. Then it was all around us and closer.  Suffice it to say, the lightning was so close and so frequent, we worried about getting sunburned from it! N swears he could feel the heat on his face from the closest strikes, and we both heard the sounds of exploding wood from nearby trees. Our only fear was not that we'd be hit, but that one of us might survive rather than us going together.We were tempted to move on as the storm started letting up, but we had kept the cell phone at hand and tuned to the Weather Channel so we could see what was happening. In this case there was a second storm cell right behind the first and we stayed put for a bit longer. After the two back to back thunder cells passed over us, we gingerly made our way in a light rain over a very challenging mile and a half ridge that would have been difficult even when dry. Before getting up on the ridge, we had two potentially dangerous challenges. At first the trail went right down a steep rock face. We carefully picked small cracks that would hold a hiking pole tip or small edges where we could grab a tentative handhold, knowing if we lost our grip, we'd be in for a nasty ten foot fall. A particular sensation was the warm riverlets of water running off the rocks. Although the rain itself was cold, the rocks maintained enough heat from the morning to warm the runoff. Down in the next ravine we found evidence of how close the strikes had been: less than 100 yards from our hunker down point was the remains of a tree, with one four foot splinter stuck in the ground like a spear. Our second challenge was a step ladder which reached just short of the top of the next ridge. Once more wet handholds were needed. As we made our way along the ridge we heard another round of thunder behind us and we rushed more than we should have. N was lucky to have only one fall when his pole tip failed to grab, sending him slipping on his side. This fall raised a bump on his forearm, but not much blood. We were fortunate to reach Greenwood Lake and the safety of a motel before getting caught in "the Storm - Round 3," although it required a steep side trail rather than following the AT for another two miles to the next road crossing.This afternoon moved ahead of Clingmans Dome as our most exciting on the AT [OK, from the perspective of another ten days hence, we can finally say "most dangerous"], and we will remember it for a long time to come...