Author Archives: donsbrother4

The tell tale sign that another hiker was stirring, air being let out of a mattress, awakened me after a surprisingly good night’s sleep. I checked my watch to discover that it was 5:00. It was Pfeiffer’s mattress I heard. Pilgrim was already at the picnic table cooking breakfast. Speck sat up on her pad. Bob was also stirring. Medicine Man, Kudo, and Lentil appeared to still be sleeping. Oppressive heat already filled the air along with the pesky bugs. I immediately knew that it was not going to be a comfortable day for a hike. My instincts would prove correct a few hours later.

Having chosen to sleep in my one pair of long hiking pants and only long sleeve shirt, to try to deter the pests from striking, I needed to change clothes. I quickly removed my pants to put on my still wet from perspiration hiking shorts. There is little modesty in shelters. I then pulled my even wetter shirt from the makeshift clothes line and donned it as well. After packing up my sleeping bag, pad, and clothing, I laced up my trail runners over my disgustingly filthy socks. They had been clean yesterday. So with a pack ready to hoist onto my shoulders, I sat down for breakfast. Even though I realized that I needed something nutritious, I could only manage to eat one cereal bar. So after the meager breakfast Speck and I left camp a few minutes before 6:00. Only Pilgrim and Bob preceded us.

I was glad that today’s hike was short. The trail offered absolutely nothing of significance. I took only one picture all day. More rocks, sometimes pointy, covered a portion. At other times the trail was barely visible due to various foliage that had practically overtaken the path. Speck and I climbed a few larger rocks, but those minor sections fell way short of offering anything in the range of exhilaration. I fell twice. Speck showed concern. I laughed; she laughed. I’m beginning to wonder if I have a balance issue. I seem to be tripping when there’s nothing there. Even though I keep hearing my buddies back home saying, “Stay vertical,” it’s hard.

The only noteworthy view occurred at Sunrise Mountain where a pavilion had been erected. The sun had already risen and the bugs had begun their relentless attack, so we didn’t pause for long. The bugs must have had no interest in the view either. They pursued Speck and me ruthlessly as we ambled on up the trail. By the time we got to the Mashipacong Shelter, we both had multiple bites on our arms and legs. The Deet wasn’t working. Neither was the swatting. We did stop briefly for a snack. Pilgrim, who we had passed earlier, and later Lentil, arrived before we moved on. Pilgrim removed his bug head net so that he could apply some bug spray that Speck had given him. The critters were a menace to all.

So on we went, hiking and itching all the way to High Point State park Headquarters at NJ 23. The Spirit/Steady RV was in the parking lot. After talking with Spirit, Speck and I walked into the air-conditioned building to sign in as hikers and receive a complimentary Pepsi. Also outside were section hikers, Jocko and Pepper. Before we moved on Lentil and Pfeiffer hiked up. I remember this park from my section hike with Alton. This is the spot where our Michigan friend Ponder thought he missed a blaze and did a circuitous route to get to the building. I made sure I didn’t make that mistake. It was too hot to have to repeat even ten yards of the AT today.

Since it was early and we had been promised a ride by “just north of Manhattan” Bob, Speck and I relaxed in some shady grass until he arrived. Having covered the rather short 11.3 miles before noon, we were really in no hurry. To make certain that he hadn’t already gotten there via a different route, I walked on up to the parking area for hikers to check. A few minutes later Speck and Bob arrived. Once again a trail angel helped this “poor old can’t keep his balance hiker.” Speck and I were grateful for Bob’s kind act since he still had an hour and a half drive to get home after his section hike.

So now it’s only late afternoon. I’ve had a good meal, some ice cream, two root beers and a Mountain Dew, and I’ve done my laundry. I’ll still have some supper later. Unlike last night, I’m in an air-conditioned room wearing clean clothes. I’ve had a shower and smell good. I’ll sleep in a bed tonight, alone rather than in the company of seven other hikers. My room is larger than last night’s shelter. It’s exponentially more comfortable. Need I say more. Hiking has been and will continue to be my life for hopefully about two more months. Tomorrow, however, I’m taking a bit of a detour. Stay tuned to see what happens when Don’s Brother takes a walk of another kind a little east of the Appalachian Trail.

I’m sitting on a blow down at a campsite in the woods. It’s 7:17, sticky warm, and rain is in the forecast. Several hikers are gathered at a picnic table, some cooking supper, others just visiting. Mosquitoes are in the vicinity. I’ve used bug spray. It hasn’t helped. My red shirt, covered in perspiration hangs from a makeshift clothesline in the Gren Anderson Shelter. I’ve put on a dry shirt but will probably sleep in my damp hiking shorts. Because of the expected warm night, I’ll sleep on top of my bag rather than in it. There are eight slots in the shelter. All are full. Looking into the shelter from left to right will be Pilgrim, Lentil, Pfeiffer, Speck, Don’s Brother, Kudo, Medicine Man, and Bob. It may be a tough night for sleep.

The day began with a shuttle back to the trail from Shamrock. Light Bird, an injured section hiker, was also in the truck. A doctor and soldier who has been deployed four times, Light Bird has been sectioning for a few years. He and Shamrock both expressed concern and compassion when I told them about Don. I thanked them both before heading up the trail with Speck. Shortly after the day began we saw Medicine Man and Kudo resting by a brook. For the remainder of the day Speck and I would hike off and on with the two.

The trail today consisted of a couple of sections of medium size rocks, more small rocks, some pine straw areas, and a few ridge views. Rattlesnake Mountain offered the best view of the day. Speck and I took a break there to just relax and enjoy. Despite the intense heat of a 93 degree day, all was good. I drank water and gatorade regularly. Still it was tough to stay hydrated.

When Speck and I reached Culver’s Gap, we walked about 200 yards up the road to Gyp’s Tavern. I’m not sure who Gyp was; however, there is an autographed picture of him with Babe Ruth in a glass case. I had one of those, “I need to call my brother” moments. Don would have loved hearing about the pictures of the Babe. I miss those baseball conversations that we had so regularly.

Gyp’s is a real nice place. The tavern owners have made it real easy for hikers to find their way around. Signs were posted that told us where we should leave our packs, where we could enter the tavern, and where we should and should not sit. Before Speck and I ordered, Medicine Man and Kudo arrived and joined us at our table. I ordered a burger, fries, and a turkey sandwich for the woods. Along with a root beer over ice, it made for an outstanding meal prior to the walk to the shelter. Before leaving the establishment, a local patron suggested that I take a bottle of whiskey rather than my re-filled water bottles.

On the final three miles to the shelter, Speck and I paused briefly to chat with a section hiker from Capetown, South Africa. Then we tried to pick up the pace as thunder could be heard in the distance. A light shower began just before we hit the short blue blazed trail to the shelter. When we walked up, Bob, a section hiker from just north of Manhattan, Lentil, and Pfeiffer were already inside. Shortly after we got here, Medicine Man, Kudo, and Pilgrim also arrived. So the eight person shelter is at capacity on a steamy night.

Darkness is approaching. A large group of young folks, who apparently drove to the campsite and are tented nearby, are noisily enjoying themselves. My shelter mates are trying to get comfortable in a cramped environment. I am sleeping in the woods and all is well. Kudo to my left is gazing toward the bear box. Speck to my right is busy with her phone. Pilgrim and Pfeiffer are still seated at the picnic table with Lentil. No one is asleep. I’m not really tired and doubt that I’ll sleep much tonight. Still, all is good. I’ll wake at dawn, pack up with the others, have a little breakfast, and head north for another day on the Appalachian Trail.

On a cold, rainy morning three months ago today, I set out from Springer Mountain in GA to attempt a thru hike of the Appalachian Trail. On that March day I must admit there existed an inkling of doubt that I could accomplish the task. Now 93 days later the doubt is gone. As long as I can stay healthy, I feel the goal will be reached. Even though I sometimes wonder how I continue to follow much the same routine day after day, I do. So as I moved into my eighth state at the beginning of my fourth month on the trail, I hiked happily on a beautiful Sunday afternoon.

Trail Angel Dolores again aided my hike as she delivered Speck and me back to the trail at the Water Gap this morning. Today’s hike began with a bridge walk across the Delaware River into New Jersey. The trail passes the Kittatinny Visitor Center before moving under I-80 toward the trailhead. In the parking lot adjacent to the trail sat the RV of Spirit and Steady. Both came out and I introduced them to Speck. Shortly thereafter Speck, Steady, and I headed into the woods. We quickly began meeting and passing day hikers and trail runners.

After about four miles we reached the south end of Sunfish Pond. The still water amidst the picturesque landscape created a peaceful setting. As we stopped to admire the beauty, we were engaged in conversation with Sophron and Carrie, two runners from the Philly area. Three young men from Long Island were also taking a break. When we left the others, we missed a blaze and got off trail briefly. When we retraced our path, however, we found the blaze and continued to hike near the pond. Even though we have officially left Pennsylvania, the small pointy rocks continued. Steady kept saying they would cease around the next curve, but they didn’t seem to be honoring Steady’s wishes.

The best view of the day happened at the rocky summit of the Kittatinny Mountains. There we chatted with ridge runner Grasshopper for a little while. When we got to Camp Rd., Speck, Steady, and I stopped for some lunch. While we ate, Pilgrim arrived, but he was headed up the road to the Mohican Outdoor Center for some food. For some reason it seems that lunch may be my downfall since for two consecutive days, I’ve fallen during or right after lunch. Speck laughed, and I went ahead and laughed along with her, when I just tripped over an innocuous rock step at the very beginning of the next incline. Stumbles is several days ahead of me, but I’m challenging her for her trail name.

At the Catfish Lookout Tower two couples were taking a break from a day hike. We offered help with a map and told Joe, David and their wives about our hike. I also shared my website and information about Don. The four hiked on with us for a short while before we moved ahead. Then we hiked by a swamp and saw where beavers had spent what appeared to be a lot of hours damming up a stream. Past the stream the rocks all of a sudden seemed much less prominent. We made good time from there, arriving at Blue Mountain Lakes Rd. before 4:00 to complete a 17.7 mile day.

Speck and I had enjoyed hiking with Steady today. We said our goodbyes and he headed on up the trail looking for a campsite. Within a half hour Bob (Shamrock) picked us up for a shuttle back to Stroudsburg. A retired high school teacher like myself, Bob shared information about the area. A hiker as well, he said his shuttle business had been booming the last couple of days. With an interest in baseball and golf, we discussed both on the drive.

So as my hiking day came to an end, I reflected on my three months on the trail. In some ways it feels like three years. At times it still feels like I am stuck somewhere between the regular world and a dreamlike state. I wonder if there isn’t another me still living my other world life as I continue to participate in this grand adventure. I’m sure I’ll keep trying to keep a fresh perspective as tomorrow rolls around. It’s very late at the moment, but tomorrow another day of wonder awaits as the hike continues on the Appalachian Trail.

When you’ve just bounded over a series of kitchen table size boulders called Wolf Rocks, you don’t expect to suffer your first fall in over a week while having lunch. That’s just what happened on another beautiful afternoon in Pennsylvania. With a 15.7 mile day on the agenda, Speck and I first set foot on the trail today at 9:15. After a short climb out of Wind Gap, we meandered our way through the woods on a trail carpeted with more pointed rocks of various sizes. A warm sun made its appearance early in the day to remind us that we needed to stay hydrated.

Nothing of any great significance caught my attention until we reached Wolf Rocks about seven miles into today’s hike. Speck smiled, anticipating another opportunity to do some rock hopping. Considering the mundane landscape we had been traversing, I smiled as well. I’m beginning to enjoy the challenge of some more difficult sections of trail. Even though these rocks did not pose as big an obstacle as the Knife Edge or the hike out of Lehigh Gap, they still demanded concentration. I commented to Speck that they reminded me a little of New Hampshire where you have to plan your next step.

Right after Wolf Rocks the excitement for the day occurred. I had packed in a ham and cheese sandwich, fries, and a Mountain Dew for lunch. Not being able to open the Dew, I asked for Speck’s help. When she proceeded to remove the cap in about two seconds, we both began laughing. In my exuberance I tripped over a baseball size rock and fell backwards hard into a larger rock. The fall changed Speck’s countenance from laughter to concern as I sat motionless for a few seconds, unsure of just how badly I might be hurt. After I ascertained that I was OK except for a scrape on my back and a sore lower back, I got myself to my feet to eat my lunch. When I figured out that I wasn’t hurt badly, I turned my attention to the Mountain Dew. At least three-fourths had spilled. But even though I lost most of my beverage, it was comforting to know that I could finish today’s hike.

As the afternoon progressed, we hiked at somewhat of a leisurely pace. At a power line we met John and Brandon who had set up a ham radio tower. When I asked John how far away he had transmitted, he said Russia. Speck and I took some pics, enjoyed the view for awhile and then moved on up the trail.

A little later we reached Totts Gap where a cooler of bottled water and mints had been left. Dolores, the mother of AT hiker Olive Oil, had also left her phone number for hikers needing assistance. I made a note of the number before signing the card she had placed by the cooler. Speck and I agreed that Dolores would be a good person to call for a ride once we reached the Delaware Water Gap. When I did reach her by phone, Dolores said that she would be happy to offer a ride into Stroudsburg in order for me to slack pack tomorrow.

When I reached the Water Gap, I stopped for ice cream at Zoe’s before calling Delores. Leaving just as I arrived was Colin (formerly Scarecrow). He was headed back to the trail. Before I left, however, I saw Medicine Man and Kudo arrive. Pilgrim was also walking up the street. He filled me in on who was at the Church of the Mountain Hostel. It was good to know who was in the vicinity. Hopefully, Speck and I will see several of the hikers on the trail tomorrow. It still seems, however, that the trail has really thinned out over the past couple of weeks.

Today was another enjoyable day to hike. I reached the Delaware Water Gap, the last stop in Pennsylvania. Time is suddenly moving more quickly. I have now completed 7 states and have 7 more to finish. Today also put me at fewer than 900 miles to the end. Tomorrow I will walk across the Delaware River into New Jersey, the state with a very high bear population. I would like nothing better than seeing one as I head toward Maine on the Appalachian Trail.

The climb out of Lehigh Gap is regarded as one of the most technical segments of the Appalachian Trail south of New Hampshire. At 8:00 this morning Speck and I crossed the bridge over the Lehigh River headed for that ascent. Speck had a smile on her face anticipating some real rock climbing. I had the feeling I sometimes get before a dental appointment. I just wanted to get it over with. Before the scrambling was finished, however, I was smiling as well. After all, a good hike in Pennsylvania wouldn’t be complete without a section that requires the use of one’s hands.

So after encountering a steep, wooded uphill for the first half hour, we came face to face with the boulder field. With the bridge over the Lehigh River in the background, Speck and I took aim on the final ascent. We telescoped down our poles, and Speck placed them in the back of my pack. Considering the rock face we were approaching, poles were more of a hindrance than a help. The higher we got, the more I needed to concentrate. Each upward movement required me to find the appropriate shelf to place my hands and feet. It took time, but the slower pace was necessary to ensure my safety. Speck again called the climb exhilarating. Today I called it exhilarating as well.

When we finally crested the apex of the mountain after a 1000 foot elevation gain, we found ourselves at the south end of the Superfund Detour. For the next three miles the trail stretched along a ridge line that afforded a beautiful view of Walnutport and Slatington, PA. The views were so gorgeous that Soeck and I stopped often to enjoy. Once the trail headed away from the edge of the ridge we had to walk over a rock bed for a short while. The detour trail not only presented better views but also steered the AT away from the old zinc mining fields.

For much of the rest of the day the trail was comprised of a variety of rocks. We hiked over some short sections of rocks about the size of our packs. At times the trail became a path of pointy rocks often protruding through the grass. To put it simply, it contained rocks and more rocks. A stiff neck can be the result of having to continuously hike with your head down. Otherwise, an ankle injury, trip, or fall might be the result. Speck and I conversed some, but mainly we just concentrated on getting through these rocky sections without getting hurt.

Like yesterday we saw no thru hikers. We did see a few section hikers like Andy, a young lad from Newcastle, England. When Speck asked him if he had a trail name, he didn’t know what she meant. Dressed in a purple fleece and long, heavy looking camo pants, Andy said he started in New York and was ending his hike in Charlotte. When I told him that Charlotte wasn’t exactly on the AT, he replied that he realized he would have to leave the trail eventually and walk east. We wished him well before hiking on.

As the afternoon waned we saw one extremely long black snake. He had to be seven feet in length. It was the second snake we’ve seen this week. I forgot to mention on Wednesday the timber rattler that was curled up about a foot off the trail. At first I thought he was a black snake as well until Speck pointed out his markings underneath. In addition to the snakes, we’ve also seen some wild turkeys, hawks, and a few other familiar critters. And we continuously hear the incessant singing of the cicadas. Speck seems to like their song. I wondered if Odysseus’ Sirens may have created a similar sound.

Hiking at about 2.5 miles per hour throughout the afternoon, we finally reached Hahns Overlook, the first view since early this morning. With only a mile left in today’s hike, we only paused briefly to chat with ridge runner James. From the overlook we quickly hiked the final mile into Wind Gap, finishing the 20.8 mile day at 5:30. For the three days I’ve hiked with Speck, we have averaged 20.1 miles per day, a very good pace, especially considering the rocky terrain. It’s good to have some tough sections behind me as I hike my last day in Pennsylvania tomorrow up the Appalachian Trail.

When the AT experts decided to label Pennsylvania rocky, they must have based their evaluation on the section between PA 309 and Palmerton. “Rocky” seems like an understatement for what I encountered today. The portion of the trail from the Knife Edge to Bake Oven Knob was downright nasty. At times I thought that there must be a better way to get from point A to point B without putting my life in danger. I tried to keep my mind on each step as I slowly made my way over the slanted rocks with exposure on both sides. This was probably the most technical section of trail that I have encountered thus far.

The day began at the Allentown Hiking Club Shelter. When I awoke at 6:00 after a rather restless night, I couldn’t believe that I was the last to awake. Shadow and Shade were already packing up their gear and Speck was having breakfast. After hastily downing a fruit pie and some water, I hiked out of camp with Speck at 6:55. Early in the hike all went well. We hiked steadily, enjoying a conversation as we walked. At Blue Mountain Summit Rd. we took a break to fill our water bottles at the restaurant right off the trail. Ken, the owner, came out for a chat, offering some information about the area.

After returning to the trail the real hike began. About three miles later Speck and I reached the infamous Knife Edge, only about .2 mile in duration, but very strenuous. I hiked ahead for awhile; then Speck took the lead. Even though the hiking was tough, we took the time to take a few action shots of each other. Speck called the section exhilarating. I called it scary. Trying to harness the adrenalin rush as best as I could, I just kept reminding myself that a blind man had once hiked this. It didn’t really help, but Speck’s encouragement did.

When we finally reached the end of the perilous section, Bear Rocks awaited. These rocks, however, were not exactly on the trail, so even though we had to hike over another rocky section, the difficulty was lessened. But at about the time that I had regained my composure, we were confronted with Bake Oven Knob, another technical, rocky segment. As with the Knife Edge, our pace slowed, but Bake Oven Knob proved to be less challenging although still very difficult. After all the rocky sections, I think we both welcomed the more gentle terrain for the remainder of today’s hike.

Like so many other days, we saw few other thru hikers. We did meet several section hikers, most southbound. When we reached PA 873 and the Lehigh River we were left with a mile and a half to Palmerton. Fortunately, a gentleman in a van, Bob, agreed to drive Speck and me into town. We checked in at the Jailhouse Hostel on Delaware St. The hostel is located in the basement of borough hall near the police station. Other thru hikers at the hostel were Medicine Man, Kudo, Broken Pack, Doc, Boone, and Spider Mac.

Even though there were challenges in today’s hike, I somehow managed to stay vertical all day. By taking my time, focusing on each step, and remembering that many were offering up prayers for me daily, I succeeded. But that’s what the Appalachian Trail is all about, a series of challenges that have to be met daily. Like today, tomorrow will present more difficult sections of trail that will have to be dealt with. For now, it’s getting late. I’m writing this from a bench in a park across the street from the hostel. Bugs are circling the street lights overhead. Another good day draws to conclusion, yet tomorrow more adventure awaits as I climb out of Lehigh Gap on the Appalachian Trail.

The last time I saw Speck she was walking up the trail out of my hike forever, or so I thought. That day I struggled to limp the final three miles to Jennings Creek where I shuttled back to Daleville to treat my Achilles tendinitis. Today Speck walked back into my hike on a beautiful day in northern Pennsylvania. On the trail for a short section of PA and some of NJ, she appeared when I thought I’d be hiking alone for awhile. Her company was definitely welcomed and appreciated.

My day began with a hitch from Hamburg back to Port Clinton. Two trail angels with a work truck offered the lift as I finished my breakfast at the Microtel. Dale hoisted my pack into the back of the truck as I climbed up to the front seat. His co-worker, Ben, rode in the back. After the short ride I found myself hiking by 6:55. To begin the day I walked under a bridge and up a steep ascent of 900 feet. Before long Speck was hiking with me. We took a break at Reservoir Rd. and then another at Pulpit Rock, which offered another spectacular view. It was hard to leave the beauty, but after a few pics, we moved on.

The trail today afforded us much variety. At one time we were strolling down what seemed like a pleasant country road. At another we were faced with various sizes of rocks to climb over or navigate around. Then there were the short sections of smaller pointed rocks which made finding a place to step challenging. But that’s what the AT in Pennsylvania has been all about…..variety. From the farmland to the rocks, it’s all been good.

Not having seen Speck in over a month, we spent much of today’s hike talking. It was good to catch up with my friend. She told me about the rest of her section hike in VA after we went our separate ways, and I filled her in on my days with Molar Man. Out conversation made the day pass quickly despite the often difficult terrain. We took another break at The Pinnacle, which afforded us another, OK, I’ll use it, breathtaking view. It was there that we saw Scarecrow drying some gear.

One of the highlights of the day came when Speck and I met Under His Wing and In His Feathers. The 80 and 75 year old sisters have been section hiking the AT since they started receiving social security. A true inspiration, they chatted for a good while with Speck who was fascinated with their endeavor. When we reached the road leading to the Eckville Shelter, Bernie the Whittler was waiting by the van. He allowed Speck to select one of his carved figures. Before we headed on, the two ladies walked up, ending their hike for the day.

The last few miles proved a little more difficult, mainly I think because we were tired. After all it was Speck’s first day back on the trail. Still even though the trail caused some difficulty at times, we were able to hike 22.2 miles to the Allentown Hiking Club Shelter, arriving a little after 6:00. Speck was nice enough to boil me some water for a hot meal. The lasagna she had suggested was delicious. I suppose I could get used to this sleeping in shelters and eating trail food if I so desired.

We shared a picnic table, adjacent to the shelter, and good conversation with Shadow and Shade, an older couple from North Carolina. They began their hike in Harper’s Ferry four weeks ago, hiking comfortable miles each day. They hope to get all the way to Maine. They’re just not sure when.

So tonight I’m back in the woods. This shelter is nice. There are even a couple of canvas chairs and two bunks. The shelter sleeps eight, so the four of us have plenty of room. Darkness has arrived. The others may already be asleep. What sounds like a family with five or six boys of about ten or eleven just walked up. They appear to be looking for a place to camp. One said he thought he heard a wild animal. I hope not. I’m tired. It’s been a good day to hike with a friend. Tomorrow we’ll head toward Palmerton, the next town on the map up the Appalachian Trail.

There’s something special about waking up at 7:30 in a comfortable bed. When the bed happens to be in a four star motel within two miles of the trail, it just doesn’t get any better, at least not for this “town guy” hiker. Apparently I’m not the only one with an affinity for luxury because other hikers were milling around the lobby as I enjoyed the impressive complimentary breakfast. Section hikers Jim Dog, from Utah, and Beaker, from Kentucky, joined me at my table for some trail conversation. Jim Dog plans to shuttle up to New York with his daughter today to meet his wife for a section. Beaker is headed back to Virginia to pick up some miles. I told both about Don and shared my web site with them.

Also in the dining area were Medicine Man and his 23 year old son Kudo. The father and son team from St. Louis had also hiked the 24.1 yesterday to reach Port Clinton. They started at Springer ten days before I did, but they had gone home for a few days before continuing their hike recently. So I meet two more thru hikers for the first time. When Medicine Man said that they hoped to finish in early August, it put into perspective how much ahead of schedule I am. Still, I never know what may occur from day to day. I’d rather be ahead of schedule than behind, trying to catch up.

So as I relax in my comfortable surroundings, I wait. I wait for tomorrow when I again hit the trail. As I wait I am reminded of the days of happiness that the trail has given me. But I am also cognizant of times of loneliness and despair. It seems that every time an ounce of sadness or perhaps a tinge of melancholia surfaces to potentially disrupt the hike, something wonderful happens. I’ve heard that an old friend is again on the trail. So possibly tomorrow I’ll have the good fortune to be joined by another hiking partner when I return to the woods to hike north up the Appalachian Trail.

It felt odd starting a hike solo today. It also felt strange hiking with a full pack again after a week of slack packing. Nevertheless, that’s what I did. After breakfast at the motel, I used my first shuttle in several days to return to the trailhead at PA 501. During my meal I overheard a member of a tour group use a phrase I haven’t heard in some time (Well, I’ll be dog!), which prompted me to ask where they were from. When a member of the group said Tuscaloosa, Alabama, I told Bob that I was from Georgia. I also gave him my web site before heading out the front door.

After being dropped off at the trail, I began walking at 6:40. Early in the hike I passed Fis and later was passed by Wrangler. I would see no other people all day until the last mile going into Port Clinton. The trail was lonely today, my friend. As the morning progressed I took a break at Round Head to just enjoy the view. Then I hiked steadily until just past noon when I reached a campsite where Wrangler had built a fire and was cooking some lunch. He explained that the fire was to keep the bugs away. That sounded like a good idea, so I joined him.

After lunch I continued at a quick pace until I reached the Eagles Nest Shelter. I had actually intended to stay the night there; however, since it was only 1:20, I just couldn’t force myself to stop with only 15.1 hiked and seven hours of daylight remaining. So I pushed on. In fact, I covered the two miles from the shelter to Shartlesville-Cross Mountain Road in 38 minutes. While the terrain allowed, I kept up the pace. Then when the rocks appeared, I slowed. Even with some lengthy stretches of rocks, usually small in size, I arrived at the small town of Port Clinton, PA before 5:00, having hiked 24.1 miles with a full pack.

One noteworthy occurrence on today’s hike was that I ran out of water, which is something that should never happen. As the day got hotter I found myself drinking more and not finding any sources from which to refill my bottles. I tried to conserve when I realized that I had little left and about three miles remaining until town. Then the magic occurred. Within a couple of minutes after I had taken my last sip, I turned a corner to find eight 32 ounce gatorades under a tree. It could have been 32 ounces of gold and I don’t think I would have been any happier. I took one and immediately downed half of it. That drink gave me the lift I needed to carefully negotiate a very steep descent to the road. I thought to myself, “I’m glad it’s not raining.”

When I did reach the road by the train tracks, I took a break at a picnic table before crossing the short bridge into Port Clinton. Arriving at PA 61 going into Hamburg, I thought I’d give Microtel a call to check on rates. As I was talking a truck stopped. The lady in the passenger seat asked if I needed a ride. Fred and his trail angel wife drove me right to the front door of the motel. Also in the truck was Fables, a young lady who started at Springer the week before I did. Like so many others, I had not seen her until today. From South Carolina, she was staying with the trail angel couple.

Even though I hiked a ten hour day alone, the miles went quickly. At one point I thought about creating an imaginary hiker friend that I could share the trail with when no one else is around. I gave him a name, a place of origin, and a rather bizarre personality. Perhaps in future days, when there’s nothing else to write about, I’ll include a more in-depth description of the fictional hiker. For now, however, I think I’ll stay with reality. And the reality of the moment is that I need some rest before tackling more big mileage days on the Appalachian Trail.

With my buddy Molar Man now a day up the trail and Linda en route to the Harrisburg Airport, I must admit a tad of despondency has crept into my psyche. Looking for a panacea, I decided to take Father’s Day off and treat myself to the final round of the US Open. Remembering the special times when I enjoyed the tournament with my dad, and later with my son, has brought me comfort on an overcast afternoon. Despite being alone in a Pine Grove, PA motel, the memories are comforting even if they bring with them a little melancholia. There will hopefully be other Father’s Days in future years when, in the company of Sam and Rachel, I will nostalgically remember this day. That’s what the AT and life are all about….. a compilation of memories.

Earlier today Linda and I shared a leisurely breakfast and then a time of relaxation near the pool. When I sighed that I still had 996 miles to walk, my lovely wife replied, “That’s soooo much better than 1000.” She qualified her response with, “That’s why the price tag says $3.99 instead of $4.00. It’s all psychological.” Perhaps she has a point. By this time next week I should be in another state and have fewer than 900 miles remaining. A positive attitude continues to be paramount to success. I never entered a road race without thinking I would finish. So I’ve tried to maintain the same mindset as I hike. The summit of a mountain in Maine marks the finish line.

I also thought about my nephew Brent throughout the day. This is his first Father’s Day without his dad. They shared so much. From fishing and hunting to little league to trips to watch the Braves, they were an inseparable father and son. Don was proud of the man Brent has become. Above all, he felt blessed that his son was and is a man of faith, just like his dad. As our mom grieved the loss of a son, Brent’s wife Lori tried to comfort her with, “Brent is just like his dad and we still have him.” Those of us who have lost our dads cling to those special times of the past. Times of childhood when Dad could make everything OK. Good times they were indeed.

So many have been supportive of my hike. From family to friends, to former students I taught and athletes I coached, to people I have never met, yet who have taken the time to send a guest book entry or write an email, I have truly been blessed every day of my walk. So many people have touched my life over my 62 years. One, Bobby Gardner, who ran cross-country and track on my teams for four years and later excelled in college and the US Army, sent a Happy Father’s Day text this morning. He never misses contacting me on this special day. It’s rewarding to know how one’s life may impact another’s.

Those same kind of special relationships are formed on the AT. Each day that I hike I meet someone new. Often we just say hello and move on. Occasionally, however, a bonding relationship develops that may have long lasting significance. On the trail as well as in life, we never initially know how we may affect another just as we don’t know how another may affect us. We merely accept and appreciate the opportunity to have our lives interwoven with another earthly creature who just happens to be sharing a moment in time with us. I exist for the moment to walk a trail, a trail that leads to a destination that fulfills a goal. And as I walk I become. I become a man of determination and resiliency, a man with a passion for overcoming and defeating. The trail is not necessarily the enemy. Still, it presents all hikers with confrontation and the need to persevere.

So as I sit and dwell on the past and anticipate the future, I am oblivious to the present. It is a Sunday, Father’s Day. My mind journeys to a special day when I became a dad. Then it moves to another special day when Don became a dad. Finally, it travels to another special day when I became a dad to a daughter. Each day is forever transfixed within the memory. I can replay every wonderful moment of each of those memorable days of my life. They provide comfort at a solitary time. They give me strength to confront a new day with its potential tribulations.

Tomorrow I will continue the hike. I will attempt to meet the challenges as I enjoy the beauty of my surroundings. I will focus on each step in the present, realizing that without notice, peril may await. I am grateful for this opportunity to hike. I hope to make the most of what tomorrow has to offer as I continue the northward journey on the unbelievably beautiful Appalachian Trail.

Brent, Don, and a Big Bass

Mike, Sam, Brent, and Don in Chicago, 2002