Upper Goose Pond Cabin to Dalton---June 10th

A day of trail magic started in the morning when the people in the bunkhouse were called to a pancake breakfast around the dining table downstairs.  Not that I'd ever get sick of PopTarts, but having this home-cooked syrupy treat was a welcome break to the usual fare.  There were no thru-hikers around the breakfast table other than me, the others being section hikers enjoying a week or two at most in the backwoods.  Tummy filled, I said my goodbyes, donned my pack and was back walking.
The previous day's storm had cooled the temperatures so it was quite pleasant with high clouds drifting across a blue sky overhead.  Nothing too strenuous other than gently rolling hills covered with woodland and occasional open field and meadows.  The twenty miles to Dalton flew past.  By 2:30 I was standing on the porch of Tom Levardi, a renowned trail angel in these parts, one whom Snorkel had told me about with fond memories of her stay in 2008.  Returning with a full car from a grocery run, he said I was more than welcome to stay and gave me a tour of the place.  After cleaning up a bit, I met the others who were enjoying his hospitality:  Magic Bag, Speedy, Tigger (sporting the nastiest hang nail I'd ever seen and recently diagnosed with a possible case of Lyme disease), Forgetful, Yikes and Thru.  Three of us shucked the corn that would later be part of the dinner feast.  However, before the meal was served, I borrowed a bike and pedalled my way to the library in town for the obligatory family update via e-mail. I returned in time for what most aptly could be described as a Thanksgiving feast on the picnic table in his side yard.  Corn on the cob, potatoes, chili, sausages, cabbage and carrots, an assortment of rolls---for this we were all thankful.  Mmmmmmm...good!
When all had had their fill, Tom took me on a resupply run to Price Chopper after dropping Thru and Yikes off at the cinema in nearby Pittsfield.  When we got back to his house, Snorkel was sitting on the front porch.  I was pleased to see her and a little relieved to know she'd weathered the storms over the past few days.  It was also sad because I knew this would be our goodbye.  My pace would eventually slow because of the date my dad and I had chosen to meet in Maine.  Fact is, I'd never wanted to steal any of her thunder in setting the record, nevertheless, I was very happy to have been a witness and could appreciate first hand the kind of effort that she put in every day in achieving her desired goal.
At eight o'clock, those that remained in the house observed what seemed to be an honored tradition, choosing a movie to watch.  Tonight's would be The Big Lebowski, not one of my personal favorites, but it's hard to deny that, yes, "The Dude Abides". 

Beautiful Day to Dalton