Date: 2013-07-03
From: Jeremy & Lera's House, PATC Milesburn Cabin

To: Stealth camp on a rocky ridge
Miles today: 16.1

Holy smokes did I sleep well last night. I didn't wake up until almost 7 am (a solid hour longer than usual). I heard Jeremy & Lera stirring downstairs, and I wanted to be sure to say good-bye to Lera before she headed off to work. I packed up and headed downstairs for breakfast and coffee. Jeremy took me for a drive around Carlisle and then drove me back out to the PATC cabin. We said our good-byes and then he drove off as I climbed back into the woods. A few minutes later I came to a forest road crossing. I heard a car engine, and it was him. There was quite a labyrinth of roads he'd had to navigate. The trail was smooth and flat. There were lots of rabbits and deers, birds and gnats. The forest was full of birds' song and squirrels scampering about. The trees are big and lush. The forest floor is covered in thick green ferns, the trail a soft dirt or pine straw. Other areas are covered with acres of blueberry bushes. Pennsylvania is absolutely beautiful. Dare I say, my favorite state yet. At around 2:45 p.m., I crossed Woodrow Rd. The significance? I had officially passed the mid-point of the 2013 Appalachian Trail. There was no marker, so it felt a little anti-climatic. I scratched a line in the middle of the road and stepped across it. A few hundred meters later I came upon a campground. Someone had configured a stone circle with "1/2" in the middle of it. A few miles later near Tom's Run Shelter there was a more substantial monument, but since the mileage changes from year to year, it was a little passed the mid-point. There was also a mailbox with the flag up. I opened it and found the register. I added my name to the list. Whirled Peas had made it half-way. I made it down to Pine Grove Furnace and opted out of the half-gallon challenge (there's a challenge to see how fast you can eat a half gallon of ice cream). I decided to eat a hot dog and drink a half-half-gallon of lemonade instead. I hung around and chatted with Atlas, Tipsy Gypsy, Oak, Pantry, Codger and Trash bag for about an hour and a half. I got my second wind, and decided to hike on. I pit-stopped at the bathrooms and chatted with some tourists. They were passing through after participating in the Battle of Gettysburg reenactments. The bee-bopped down the trail, looking at the babbling stream to my left and the swampy marsh to my right. There were some great camping spots, but I wanted to hit 1100 miles tonight. The trail climbed up. It was hot and sticky. The air grew still and the trail closed in around me. For reasons I can't explain, I started to feel uncomfortable, ill-at-ease. I looked behind me, but there was no one there. I saw the campsite I had planned to stop at, but it gave me an uneasy feeling. There was a tent, half packed, half hanging out of the stuff sack. It was propped up next to a tree. It gave me a weird feeling in my gut. I kept going. About a half mile later the trail turned really rocky and started to head downhill. It was pushing 8 p.m. I didn't want to get caught in the dark. I looked up at the ridge rise up to my right. It was hard to tell, but it looked sort of flat on top. I bush-whacked up to the ridge, about 60ft off the trail and out of sight of the trail. I felt better immediately. I set up my tent and made dinner. Someone nearby was setting off fireworks. They were getting a jump on the 4th of July. The popping and cracking continued throughout the night. Oh well, I didn't expect to sleep much anyway.