Date: 2020-07-30
From: US 30 (Fayetteville)

To: Pine Grove Furnace General Store
Miles today: 19.8
Weather: light rain

It's been noticeably cooler the past few days. Humidity is lower too, judging from my water intake and the fact my clothes are slightly less damp in the morning. Granted, it's still approaching 90 degrees each day, but a few degrees makes a big difference, and sometimes there's even a cool breeze through the forest.Today may be the easiest twenty mile section of trail since Georgia. There were some rocky sections (through which I did not come unscathed, see below), but most of it was dirt or pine needle trail with little elevation change. It passed over many state forest gravel roads, through open scrub oak and pine forests, and by several lovely shelters and cabins, including Quarry Gap Shelter which, with its porch swing, dual shelters, covered breezeway and picnic areas, board games, and flower garden all surrounded by a rhododendron forest and a seasonally-gurgling brook may be the best-maintained shelter on the AT. I got trail magic for the second day in a row, at Shippensburg Road! Two middle-aged guys were sitting by the parking lot with a cooler and extra camp chairs. Like usual I didn't want to assume, and after all it's an unlikely time of year to be purposefully setting up trail magic here, and so I paused for a minute looking around for the trail. They offered me a cold soda. Well, thank you, don't mind if I do! Of course they weren't there specifically to do trail magic and were as surprised to see me as I them. They were in fact waiting for a woman named Mercury who is attempting to break the women's thruhiking speed record, having left Springer 23 days ago. One of the guys, a local trail maintainer, thrued in 2004. His buddy hiked to Franklin with him. They were impressed with how quickly I was moving, but then it's taken me well over twice as long to get here as Mercury.A few minutes later Mercury's support van drove up, and out popped trail legend Warren Doyle. Warren not only set the first "fastest known time" or FKT on the Appalachian Trail back in 1973, but he's personally thruhiked 18 times, more than anyone else, ever. He also founded ALDHA, the American Long Distance Hikers Association, which runs numerous hiker events, runs a school for backpackers and aspiring thruhikers, has led numerous group thruhikes, and I believe is a college lecturer or professor on Appalachian studies.Warren is the yin to the ATC's yang. His philosophy is the trail should be open to all and is there to be enjoyed by hikers. He is fiercely protective of, in a way embodies, the spirit of the trail community. While respecting the wilderness experience, he doesn't see it as the end all be all. He once planted a clawfoot bathtub in a swimming hole along the trail which was a hit with hikers. Even though it was next to a trash-strewn road and within earshot of the interstate the ATC removed it because it violated the wilderness experience. He is also very attentive to any reports of problems hikers experience along the trail. The ATC hid data on trail incidents for years until a Harrisburg reporter forced them to reveal it. I should note, however, that the AT's 2000 mile corridor is safer than any comparably populated town.I had to get moving if I was going to get to Pine Grove Furnace and do the Half Gallon Challenge before they close, even though Mercury hadn't arrived yet. I saw Warren again at a gravel road four miles later. Mercury was still behind me. I was putting on the speed to make it to the store. For some reason I felt giddy as I went on a slight downhill and began to jog. Maybe the thrill of competition, or a delayed sugar rush from the trail magic sodas. So I bounded over and around rocks and hopped and jumped and jogged until, inevitably, I caught my toe on a rock and flew headlong toward the ground. The instant I misstepped I knew I was going to crash. I watched it happen in slow motion, watched the rocks ahead of me, hoped I could land well and not break the fall with my knee. And so I sprawled into the dirt and rocks. And lay for a moment, half-stunned but quietly awaiting damage reports from all stations. The hands and knees cried pain, but superficial. The right leg reported soreness in the thigh and below the knee. After a minute I stood up and put weight where weight needed to go. Soreness, yes, but nothing broken. Some bloody scrapes, but nothing I hadn't gotten on trail runs before. I gathered my sticks and tenderly began walking, favoring the left leg as the muscles in my right warmed up and eased the soreness. There would be some bruises, but nothing serious, I thought. I would not, however, be running over rocks again anytime soon.I reached Pine Grove Furnace State Park and their general store at ten of seven, just in time to buy a half gallon of ice cream. The girl, already closing up, entrusted me with the much-prized wooden Dixie cup spoon that passes for a trophy, though I had yet to earn it. A local, Charlie, was hanging out for the wifi and he timed me as I dug in. I ate deliberately but consistently. I was in no rush and had no desire to become sick. Eating became easier as the ice cream melted. 33 minutes later I was done. A 40% improvement over my time from three years ago, though then I'd only hiked from the Virginia border, a mere 80 miles. 1105 miles changes ones appetite. Charlie, my independent ice cream record verifier, told me how he worked for AT&T for many years, shifting from one soon-to-be obsolete job to another as the phone giant's business model collapsed. He now works at Entenmann's making donuts, a job that most kids would love their dad to have. But apparently there is a paucity of teamwork and perhaps a bit of backstabbing in the bureaucratic donut business and Charlie doesn't think much of the job.Still no sign of Mercury. She may have stopped for the day. Considering she'd already done over forty miles I can't blame her. (Note: I later saw she ended her day here twenty minutes after I left for the hostel, so I missed her again)Given the late hour, ice cream became dinner - another thing kids would love to hear from their parents. Not really full but knowing it was a bad idea to throw anything more down the black hole tonight, I walked to the Ironmasters Mansion next door and registered for the hostel. A wedding party was still celebrating. In fact the groom was the son of the innkeeper. They offered me leftovers and soda - more trail magic!The hostel is in an impressive nineteenth century mansion with wonderful molding and brickwork. But the shower was terrible - cramped, nozzle far too high and unable to angle properly, and clogged up. But it washed the blood, sweat, and dirt off, which is all I really needed. A southbounder is here. He started a few days ago near Duncannon and is headed to Springer. We are the only guests in the bunkroom. The newlyweds have the master suite.