Rich Mtn. Fire Tower Side Trail to Big Flat---April 26th

Come ye weary hikers just beyond the N.C. border.
Drop your pack, take off your shoes---refreshing drinks to order.
Belgian waffles, tasty stew seem like such a dream.
Brownie, Pound Cake, Apple Pie---all come with ice-cream.

Headstones in memoriam are laid just off the trail
Reminding us that in the end all our bodies fail.

This morning I passed a lot of people in tents at Hurricane Gap and at Spring Mountain Shelter.  We sort of all joined up at Allen Gap for the best trail magic so far.  A typed note attached to a sign near Allen Gap informed hikers of a generous offering down the road to the right and up the first driveway past the North Carolina border.  Everyone, with eager anticipation, made the short detour, coming to the porch of a lovely log home where, after dropping packs and removing shoes, we were cordially invited inside.  Seated in order of arrival around a large dining room table, our gracious hosts, Hercules and Fal, introduced themselves.  In turn, the hikers gathered round the table became acquainted.  The funniest thing for me was to see the look of those who had chosen root beer as their beverage when they were asked if they'd like it in a frosty mug with ice cream.  The initial reaction was to sit there stunned as if their ears hadn't heard the question properly.  After they realized they weren't hallucinating, a broad grin broke out on their faces.  Fal kept all of us supplied with Belgian Waffles and when Hercules wasn't pouring drinks he was dishing out bowls of hearty stew.  Just when we thought things couldn't get any better, we got the dessert menu, which caused our mouths to begin watering all over again.  Incredible.  As the meal was winding down, Hercules and Fal shared a message of faith with us and for those that were so inclined, a variety of Christian literature was offered free of charge.  As I'm always looking for something to read on trail I selected one from the collection.  Spent a little over an hour as an honored guest in their home and as I was leaving, was asked to send a photo from Katahdin marking the end of my trek if I got that far.  That's something I'll have to be sure and do.
A long climb out of Allen Gap gaining 2,000 feet in the process.  The walk along the exposed ridgeline was slow going, scrambling up and over rocks.  I passed so many people as I walked past three different shelters on my way to Big Flat that I reckon I must be pushing my way up into the main pack.  This was my twelfth day out, but I'm doing about twice as many miles as the average hiker.  I don't really stop to talk much.  Sometimes I catch a few trail names, but so many are easily forgotten and at this pace I'm positive I'll never see those I've passed again.
A strange thing coming across headstones alongside the trail.  The most prominent were those of William and David Shelton who lived in North Carolina, but fought with the Union Army.  Returning to a family gathering during the Civil War, they were ambushed and killed by Confederate troops.  Other grave markers bore names of those who in their lifetimes had a special affinity for this section of the trail.  On passing I kept a respectful silence while feeling a few pangs of melancholy.   


Allen Gap Trail Magic
The North Carolina Border
Rocky Ridgeline
Shelton Graves 

West Mombasha Road to Graymoor Spiritual Life Ballfield---June 4th

Good going early with smooth trail and a bear sighting, the furry omnivore scurrying up the trail ahead of me then disappearing behind a rocky bluff.  It wasn't until I hit Island Pond Outlet that I realized it would be a tough day as my climbing legs were just not with me for some reason and my dawgs were barking in these thin-soled, thread-bare, WalMart specials.  Oh, for new socks and shoes in Kent!
Had to actually take off my backpack and carry it in front of me to shimmy through the Lemon Squeezer, a narrow cleft of rock that is not conducive to big packs or hefty hikers.  Successfully passing this obstacle, you soon come upon another which actually gives you a choice, a bit of rock climbing on the white blaze or a boulder bypass on the blue blaze.  Not interested in the rock scrabble, I took the little loop route around the rubble.
When I arrived at Fingerboard Shelter, I found an older hiker who was holed up there because of severe blister problems on his feet that had left him fairly well hobbled.  He told me he was going to stay there a day or two and hoped the combination of time and rest would cure his troubles.  The farthest he was venturing was to the water source at Lake Tiorati about a half-mile distant down a blue-blazed path.  This seemed to put my own tender feet into the category of a minor annoyance and I count myself among the most fortunate of hikers in the fact that I have never had to deal with painful blisters.  As I polished off the remaining crumbs from an early lunch, the sun broke through what had been an overcast sky.  Taking advantage of this break in the weather, I slung my pack over my shoulders and headed back to the trail, enjoying some fine walking along the five-mile track to William Brien Memorial Shelter, where I stopped briefly for a snack and water refill.
The climb up to West Mountain Shelter was stony and agonizingly slow.  I expected the same at Bear Mountain, but delightedly was proved quite wrong because of the extensive work just recently completed to make the trail so smooth that even the uphill seemed like a walk in the park.  Once at the crowded summit, to my amazement, I could see the skyscrapers and tall buildings that formed the New York City skyline.  Didn't see too many fellow hikers, but the parking lots were jam packed.  The soda machines were prominently positioned in a shady rest area, but for now I think I'll stick to spring water.
The descent to the town of Bear Mountain, New York was on newly constructed trail as well, the steps creating a none too jarring downhill path leading to the picnic pavilions, trailside museums and lake.  For a hungry hiker it was like running a gauntlet with savory and seductive smells wafting up from the grills and a range of mouth-watering foods displayed on the tables I was passing.  I was seriously tempted to do a Yogi and steal a picnic basket, but managed to overcome the impulse. :-)  The unfortunate thing for me in town was that I missed getting into the zoo by a mere twenty minutes.  I would have liked to have seen the bears and other animals, but instead was left with a detour around the enclosure to get to the Bear Mountain Bridge.  Crossing the steel span on the pedestrian walk high above the Hudson River, I looked down at the many boaters and jet skiers zipping around beneath me. 
By this time, the weather had taken a turn for the worse, the sky had clouded over once more, and a light drizzle set in.  All I could do was put on my rain jacket, place my pack cover over my ULA Circuit, keep on walking and hope the drizzle didn't turn into a full on rain.
Though less than six miles, it seemed like forever before I finally emerged from the woods at U.S. 9 near Peekskill.  Knowing that it was only another mile or so to my bedding down point, I stopped at the Shell station/convenience store to pick up a few comfort items (corn chips, spinach dip and a USA Today) that I could use to lift my spirits before hitting the hay.  Up from the highway, I hit a blue-blaze on a paved road leading me to the Graymoor Spiritual Life Ballfield.  The picnic shelter there is on a very secluded backroad where not a single car passed during my overnight stay.  Four other hikers were sharing the facilities, which included a water spigot, shower, wash basin, laundry lines, phone numbers to various food delivery services and more.  Winding down after a long day, I perused the newspaper, dipped and crunched the chips, and kept an ear out for the hiker conversation going on as night fell.  Dave was discussing the finer points of shelter etiquette, cursing those rude enough to arrive after dark and disturb those already sleeping.  The cursing continued as he described the dastardly rocks that were everywhere along the trail.  Finally the subject turned to the topic of urination, both along the trail and what you do when the urge strikes in the middle of the night while lying in a crowded shelter.  So, I guess the conversation had turned full circle back to shelter etiquette. :-)

A Fine New York Path