January 7, 2012 - Posted by admin - 7 Comments
I’m bringing in the New Year suffering with another virus. In less than a month, I’ve caught two colds. I see so many people all day and it seems like everyone on my route is sick with something – colds; flu; laryngitis; bronchitis. I guess I don’t have a very good immune system because I always catch more than my share of colds. If only I’d had those tonsils and adenoids out when I was a kid.
I had a wonderful time with David and Lisa at Christmas. My present was new Black Diamond trekking poles from them and Karen. I can’t wait to try them out! Lisa made a delicious ham dinner, and afterwords, we all went to see a movie. When we got back to their house, Dave jail-broke my iPhone for me. I was thinking of moving up to the iPhone 4, but I really didn’t need any of the new features, and I would be hesitant to tamper with a new phone. I can now use my phone as a modem to connect my laptop, anywhere I get a data signal.
Trekking Poles
The next weekend, it was off to spend the New Year with Karen and the boys. It’s always great to see them. The boys are growing so fast and it won’t be long before they’ll all be leaving the nest. Next year, Zack heads to college, and the year after that, Nate will be going. Whenever I’m in Pittsburgh, I always get Karen to take me to the local REI. They were having the usual after-Christmas sales and we both bought some outdoor garments. I like the hiking clothes they have there but it always stuns me to see the prices. With the new rain jacket that Jen and Louie gave me, I should have everything I need to hike in the spring.
That’s about it for the holidays. In a way, I’m glad it’s over. The traffic and turmoil of delivery around Christmas time can be a nightmare. We will be giving up the apartment on February 29. I’m still looking for someplace to stay until spring. My plan is to continue to work until the end of April and then retire again. After I become tired of being retired, I may work so that I can afford new tires.
I found a company in Taiwan that makes small model motorcycles and exports them to the USA. The encouraging news I’m reading is that there are other people like me that want to relive their glory years with the 150cc bikes. It’s possible I may look into something like the SYM Classic 150.
Just for Donna, I’ve included a table of statistics on the motorcycles performance, and a couple of graphs detailing the power vs. torque analysis through the acceleration curve.
December 24, 2011 - Posted by admin - 9 Comments
For some time now I’ve received emails and comments lamenting the fact that my blog has been abandoned. Along with subtle hints and direct prodding, there seems to be a unanimous consensus that everyone has had enough of tuning in only to discover “Swivel” as the latest update. I can sympathize with that. I’ve looked many times – always with optimism and hope – for a new update on anther blog, only to be similarly disappointed to see “Natchez Trace” still there. I guess I will attempt to update everyone with the happenings so far and maybe throw in some workings of my mind. Just be warned that that statement bores me. I can’t even imagine what it will do to you.
I work. I eat. I sleep. There you have it! Well, maybe I dream a little. Actually, I dream a lot. It usually happens when I’m asleep but not always. I’ve caught myself quite often – and please don’t try this yourself – dreaming while I’m driving. Once or twice I almost missed my exit on the Thruway because my mind was far away from where it aught to be. I’ve caught myself several times on the verge of performing some careless blunder in traffic, only because I wasn’t paying complete attention. These close calls inevitably snap me back to the real world – often with a quick pulse and flash of adrenaline – and remind me of the seriousness of driving for a living.
I think we all let our emotions dictate our driving to a certain extent. During the holiday season, traffic is snarled, everyone is in a hurry to get somewhere, and the weather is often deteriorating, challenging us all to be better drivers. The other day, after making a delivery, it took me over a half hour just to get out of the Walmart parking lot. It was almost like everyone in town was at the store. Sometimes drivers would wait and motion you into the exit line, but eventually everyone became discouraged and fought for their own turn at escape. Usually, after much waiting and waining patience, two cars will move at the same time and bump into each other. That’s when you know your going to be there for a while.
So far, my old RV (rusty van) has faithfully made the trip to Jamestown every day. With rust and corrosion slowly eating up the sides, strange noises and vibrations appearing regularly, and a host of gremlins ready and waiting to wreak havoc on a 260,000 mile engine, I nurse it along 5mph under the speed limit all the way to my destination. I figure if I can make it last until spring, I can throw it away with pride.
In the event of a breakdown, I have my new van as a backup. So far, the remodel is still in the planning stage. I thought it prudent not to spend a lot of time and money on furnishings until I knew exactly what the plan is. Even though I still intend to travel this spring, one never knows what might come up. Here are a couple of scenarios I’ve been throwing back and forth in my head. Keep in mind that I’m not an optimist at all and have no trouble talking myself out of doing anything for which I can find a good reason not to.
I would like to hike a section of the Appalachian Trail. Not just two or three days like all my hikes have been, but a serious section of extended length. It would get me fit again after a winter of sloth; it would be a great way to spend time outdoors and see nature; it would give me a chance to find out where my limits are.
If I do this, it has to be now. Who knows when congress might come to an impasse and close down all the Parks, or even worse, take away part of my SSI(I’m being sarcastic about this one). And at my age, I may not have many more hiking years left. Already, my knees are complaining about every activity I do, and it’s increasingly alarming when I feel a new twinge in my back. These are the things I think about on my long drive each day. By the time spring rolls around I probably will be content to get another bag of potato chips and put my feet up on the couch.
A while back, as I was driving to Jamestown, I came upon a motorcycle for sale by the road. I’ve always thought that van/motorcycle was the way to go. To carry a small motorcycle on the back of my van would allow me to camp and tool around the area with ease. I could also park the motorcycle at the trailhead and leave the van a few mile away, hike for a couple of days, pick up the motorcycle and shuttle back to the van. It seemed like a good solution but as I started to investigate new motorcycles, I discovered that they don’t make small ones anymore; at least not in this country. The smallest motorcycle made for the road is the Honda 230cc, weighing 300lbs and costing several thousand dollars. The small bikes we had when we were young have all been phased out in favor of high performance motorcycles and scooters. I’m not coming down on scooters. There’s nothing wrong with getting around on a scooter, but I occasionally like to go off-road – up a mountain trail, through a riverbed, or out in the desert – and thought a dirt bike would work better.
The motorcycle I bought, with the intention of fixing up, is a Suzuki 185ts, built in 1974. Even though I paid very little for it, it may never work for me. I’ve discovered that parts are almost impossible to find, and what parts are avaiable are very expensive. i probably will take it to the level of dirt bike and sell it there. I have been watching eBay for restored motorcycles but they seem to all be in California or Arizona – great for my brothers but bad for me.
That’s about it. I’m going to stick it out this winter and make a decision about travel when it gets closer to spring. I’m going to visit David and Lisa for Christmas tomorrow and next week I will spend New Years with Karen and the boys in Pittsburg. I hope everyone has a wonderful Merry Christmas!
August 13, 2011 - Posted by admin - 10 Comments
When you buy a used vehicle there are always little things that need to be fixed. I had new shocks installed and complete wheel balancing on all four tires. I’m going to have the brakes and rotors replaced in the near future, and if you’ve ever dealt with an engine emissions light, you know how that can ruin your day. Small repairs don’t seem like much but they add up to significant money when you are budgeting to save for another expedition. The most important thing though, is to have the van mechanically sound before I take on the Rocky Mountains next spring.
The van came with swivel, captain’s chairs in the middle, designed to face the back seat for important conference meetings and socializing. What I really wanted was for the front passenger seat to swivel, serving a dual purpose of passenger and living room seating. It seemed like such a waste to throw away a swivel seat, but modifying and installing it in the front seemed like too big of a project. When I crawled underneath, I couldn’t even find the bolts where they came through the framework, and I was afraid that they would be rusted and impossible to remove.
As you can see from the pictures below: I did it! With a lot of drilling and rebolting, I now have my passenger/living room, easy chair. I had to remove the seat belt assembly from the front seat and install it to the swivel seat, buy longer bolts where they went through the frame, but it went well and I’m confident that it is safe.
July 9, 2011 - Posted by admin - 9 Comments
Here are a few pictures of my van. It is presently equipped with captains’ chairs that swivel, and a bench seat in the back that folds down into a bed. There are shades on all the windows, ducted A/C and heat, diverse interior lighting, and a nice sound system from the radio and TV. The inside is finished in plush carpeting and wood-grain paneling.
I tried to figure out a way to save the seats and incorporate them into my camper van design, but the center seats took up too much room, and the fold-down bed was uncomfortable and cramped. So today I decided to remove all the back seats and start over with an empty space.
The modifications will progress slowly. I still need to use the new van as a backup in case my work van breaks down. I will probably build the cabinets for the kitchen and bed storage area, but still be able to remove them without a lot of work.
Wordpress made a mess out of this!
June 26, 2011 - Posted by admin - 9 Comments
I awoke to the sound of noisy seagulls, squawking at the bubbling surf and chasing the tides for their morning breakfast. The waves crashed along the oceanfront, rhythmically tumbling onto the shore and then retreating back to the sea. Low on the horizon the sun blazed bright and clear, casting a glow on the water that reflected the sky until it melted into the distant haze. A group of pelicans soared lazily above the water, passing by with hardly a beat of wing, and just beyond the waves the dorsal fins of two dolphins gracefully broke the surface in a flowing arc.
I stepped from my beach house and walked to the picnic patio. A gentle wind of exotic, ocean fragrance rolled over me. The temperature was perfect, warm but cool in the morning breeze. I walked to the beach and gazed up and down the dunes, endlessly stretching for miles in both directions. All around me was million-dollar landscape. A paradise of property that would beckon the desires of the rich and famous was ironically mine for $3 a day.
A few weeks later, I sat on my front lawn and watched the sun set over the distant hills. From my mountain top chalet, I could see for a hundred miles in every direction. A panorama of color and shape, valleys of meadows and forests, silhouetted by craggy peaks of distant mountains. It was a place where many dream of having a home. At that moment, it was my home for $3 a day.
Of course, I was not living in a beach house or mountain top chalet. I don’t own expensive oceanfront property or actually have deed to land in the mountains. The land I’m talking about is public. It belongs to all of us. It is the National Parks, National Seashores, National Forests, and National Historic places. My home was a twelve year-old van, converted into a makeshift RV.
For over six months I traveled the highways across America, accumulating almost 10,000 miles on an old Ford Econoline van. It started out as an experiment. I wasn’t sure if I should drive a car or motorcycle and camp in a tent, or drive my old truck and sleep in the back, or just stay in motels and rely on relatives for lodging. I’m the end, I decided that my old work van, converted into a primitive recreational vehicle, would be the best option. What could be a better way to see America than with my very own RV (Rusty Van).
The van provided me with almost everything I needed for my experimental adventure. I built a bed along one side, added closets and totes for storage, and made drop-down tables for cooking and organizing. I had a propane stove for cooking and a cooler for a refrigerator. For privacy, I used dark curtains and drapes. For nighttime entertainment, I had my laptop, dvd player, and Netflix/Kindle enabled iPhone. The only item I omitted and sometimes missed was a portable toilet. In the confined space of the van I didn’t want to deal with odor and the mess of finding places for waste disposal. I figured I could find and use public toilets when the need arose.
The list of places where I spent the nights include, but are not limited to: parking lots, rest areas, town parks, State and National park campgrounds, and Bureau of Land Management campgrounds (BLM). Not once did I stay in a RV park; it didn’t seem like I fit there. I enjoyed staying at BLM campgrounds the most. They were usually inexpensive and situated in nice, quiet National Forests. Rest areas were usually noisy with interstate traffic all hours of the night, and I spent a couple of sleepless nights there. The only time I was awakened by authorities happened to be in a town park. The police knocked on my door and wanted to know what I was doing. They were quite OK with me after I explained to them that I just wanted a few hours of rest. Although you are always susceptible to mischief, I never felt insecure in a parking lot; my old van is not a prime target for valuables, and most people don’t even know you are sleeping in it. If you are stealthy and park undetected, it looks like you are a store worker or just late-night shopping.
Besides upscale RV complexes, the nicest places to camp are usually State parks. Many of them have showers and flush toilets, understandably a treat after several days of hiking, biking, and traveling. I always promised myself that I would never sink into squalor and uncleanness, and I devised ways to bath in almost every situation. Even though I never felt beyond a little grubby (it’s not quite as important when your traveling alone), it was always nice to take a hot, steamy shower. The downside of State parks is the cost. They are usually $20 – $30/per night all across the US, and as much as $40 in California. You would think this price would include electric hookups but that’s not always the case.
As I reflect back on the trip, I keep focusing on one underlying thread — Don’t plan too much. It’s not to say you should go off unprepared or ill advised, but I found I was the happiest when I could take enjoyment in the moment, worry less where I was and where I thought I ought to be. Sometimes a traveler can put too much emphasis on travel plans, transportation, dining, lodging, and entertainment. After years of conditioning to two-week vacations, I often had to slow down and remind myself to take it easy. I would often get the itch to push on, see what was in the next state, visit someplace new, but if I just stayed where I was and looked around, some little piece of serendipity would always come my way.
Probably the most worrisome aspect of traveling in a camper is finding a site for the night. I have to admit that this occupied my mind quite often as I roamed across the land. If you travel without a definite destination for the night, it conjures up thoughts of ending up on a lonely abandoned road, far from civilization and normalcy, with inebriated, deranged hillbillies lurking about the hills. I would spend considerable time during the day pouring over maps and guides, looking for campgrounds. There were a few times when I would deviate miles from my route only to find a campground closed. What I needed was an escape clause that would almost guarantee a relative safe place to park, never be closed, and be located everywhere along my route. That’s where Walmart comes in.
Although the RV parks in town don’t like it, most Walmarts welcome RVs in their parking lots. The campers are well behaved, don’t make a mess, and buy stuff in their store. There is usually plenty of space to park and security is very good. A lot of the time, security personnel patrol the lot all night. It worked great for me – parking, security, restrooms, supplies, and fresh groceries at hand. Even though it was not my first choice for the night, once I learned the trick of googling nearby Walmarts, it took the worry out of finding campgrounds.
In my next post I will tell of the new van I just bought. Although it is new to me, it is certainly not new. With respectable mileage, beautiful interior, a high top, and – best of all – NO RUST, my plan is to modify it into a camper-van of sorts. I’m usually not looking to make myself more work, but this should be fun. For me, van camping is the way to travel. The gas mileage, the camping places I want to get into, and the stealth quality of parking undetected, outweigh the convenience and luxury of a large camper. Hey, it’s quite a step up from a tent!
June 9, 2011 - Posted by admin - 9 Comments
I finally made it back to Buffalo. The plan is to stay and work for a while. I stopped in at the delivery company I used to work for and they were happy to see me, offering me a job instantly. It’s not high pay but I like the work. I get to be my own boss to an extent, meet a lot of nice people, and enjoy the beauty of New York scenery.
I put a few pictures up on my gallery. I took less and less photos as I worked my way East. It’s so hard to capture the beauty of what the eye sees, and there are so many places on the web that have better pictures than I do it was injustice on my part to photograph it. What everyone wants to see is our picture, but Karen, intuitively, put it this way, “Here’s a picture of me on the AT. Here is another picture of me resting on the trail, and here’s another picture of me walking on the trail.”
I think I need to write some kind of conclusion to my trip, some kind of insight that highlights the pros and cons of what I did. A lot of the trip was an experiment. I wanted to see if I could fall off the grid and not be depressed by the insecurity and loneliness of drifting on a paupers budget. I wanted to taste the extreme vagabond lifestyle and glean whatever knowledge I could filter from the experience. But most of all, I wanted to see this great land of ours. I’ll write more on this later.
May 31, 2011 - Posted by admin - 7 Comments
That was about it for our hike. We descended South Mountain and walked about three miles along the abandoned railway into Harpers Ferry. We were there so early hardly anything was open. A row of restaurants line the lower streets in the old part of town, catering mostly to tourists that visit the museums and relics on weekends. It was Monday morning and we couldn’t find anyplace to eat so we rode the shuttle bus to the Visitors Center and picked up Karen’s car.
On our way out of town I ran an idea by Karen. I was still feeling good and not in any hurry to stop hiking. I had plenty of trail food left and plenty of time for another short hike. The transportation was not a problem, Karen could drop me off a ways north and I could hike back to my van. The more I thought about it the better I liked the idea.
We found a pizza parlor and gorged ourselves on wings and pizza, googled a nearby cinema and went to see the new “Pirates of the Caribbean” movie, and then checked into a motel for the night. While I did laundry – my hiking clothes were stinky – Karen found a highly recommended Mexican restaurant on Yelp and we ate some more.
The next morning, Karen dropped me off 20 miles north of my van and I continued on another section of the AT. It was fun meeting the same hikers we met two days before and seeing their surprised looks, answering puzzling questions at how I got ahead of them. I saw three black snakes, even stepping on one, but no rattlers, thank goodness.
The weather was great for my extra hike and I made good time to Tumbling Run Shelter, my stopping place for the night. Tumbling Run is a unique area: Twin shelters – new, clean, well cared for- showcase a campground with decks for picnic tables, fire pits, clothes lines, a nice privy with sanitizer, and numerous tent sites. I chose a tent site away from a group of day campers and set up camp. When I returned to the shelter area, the camp host was in the process of kicking out the day campers. The shelters are for hikers, and he told us how campers park at a near-by road and walk in to party.
There were only three of us then. We practically had the area all to ourselves. I gathered wood for a fire and we talked until dark. One of the thru-hikers was going home in a few days to attend graduation. He was some kind of math major at a prestigious college and had graduated early, leaving him time to hike the AT before the ceremony. He didn’t think he would be back to finish the trail. He missed his family too much.
When I awoke the next morning, both thru-hikers were gone. There was a heavy dew on everything so I hung around camp for a while, hoping my tent would dry a little before I packed it. I had plenty of time; there was only nine miles left to finish. If I would have known what was just up the trail, I would have probably left sooner, when it was cooler.
For about three mile, I walked through some of the worst mosquito infestation I’ve ever seen. They were relentless, and Deet didn’t seem to phase them. I think I used half a bottle trying to keep them from devouring me. They even bit right through my clothes. With all the rain in the last few weeks, the standing water made perfect breeding grounds.
It was almost 2:00 pm when I reached my vehicle. I still felt good after 60 miles and would have probably kept on hiking if I had a way to get back. I hope Karen and I can do another hike this fall and get some family to join us. Doesn’t that sound like fun?
May 29, 2011 - Posted by admin - 3 Comments
On the third day of our hike we walked into Gathland State Park, site of the famous War Correspondents Monument. Standing 50 feet high and 40 feet wide, it is quite impressive to see. We were looking forward to our arrival at the park because of a soda machine rumored to be there. A cold Coke tastes so good after hiking all day, and we hurried to the restroom where the brightly lit, pop machine stood waiting. We dug into our pockets for dollar bills and realized that both of us only had $20 bills, useless for obtaining our treat.
The rest of the day was filled with pleasant walking. The weather was beautiful in the morning, but along about 2:00 pm, it clouded up and began to sprinkle. It couldn’t be our hike if we didn’t get a little rain. The shower only lasted a short time and we made the shelter where we planned to stay soon after.
We were the first ones at the shelter. It was called the Ed Garvey Memorial Shelter and was as nice as any we had seen for quite a while. I looked it over and discovered a stairway in back that led to a neat loft. It was clean, modern, roomy, a delightful place for the night, and we spread our sleeping pads to claim a place. The one discouraging aspect about staying for the night stemmed from the fact that we would have to walk a half-mile down the hill for water.
All afternoon and into the evening hikers drifted in. A man and his son arrived shortly. They were doing a section hike for a few days. Then the five, young guys that had followed us for the last three days came in and claimed spots upstairs. Then along about dinner time another thru-hiker, a real nice guy from Texas, strolled in. Karen and I knew we wouldn’t have the shelter to ourselves, but we never realized it would become so crowded.
Just before dark, as we all sat around the campfire talking, we noticed a young girl walk up and ask if their was any room in the shelter. There is an unwritten rule that there is always room for one more, especially on nights that look like rain.
She had that athletic look about her – long legs and a torso that molded to a backpack – reminding me of the way Karen looks with pack. Someone asked her name and I heard her reply, “Snorkel.” (All thru-hikers use trail names, it’s easier to remember)
I knew I’d heard her name before when I did some hiking near Damascus, VA. She was famous for something but for the life of me I couldn’t think what it was. It wasn’t until a couple of days later that I found out her story.
Liz Thomas, trail name “Snorkel”, is a hiking machine. At the age of 24, she became the youngest female hiker to receive a Triple Crown award, an accomplishment that requires you to thru-hike all three long distance trails in the United States – the 2100 mile Appalachian Trail, the 2600 mile Pacific Crest Trail, and the 3100 mile Continental Divide Trail. She is hiking the AT again this year with the goal of becoming the fastest female, unsupported thru-hiker. Unsupported means carrying a full pack all the way, resupplying from towns along the way, and not accepting help from anyone. She is typically walking 30 to 40 miles a day.
The night was filled with dredging snores from the shelter. Flashes from a thunderstorm winked off and on in the distance, and rain prattled lightly on the roof, always a good time to be safe and dry inside. I slept hardly at all and was the first one up in the morning. I retrieved our food bag and quietly made coffee as everyone else slumbered on.
At 7:00 am, as everyone was stirring in the shelter, stuffing their packs with sleeping gear, another thru-hiker arrived. He was doing the “four state challenge”, a requirement that you hike in four states – Virginia, W.V., Maryland, and Pennsylvania – all in one 24 hour period. To accomplish this task, hikers have to start out in Virginia at 1:00 am, and walk almost 50 miles to PA. It’s not something old guys like me should ever attempt.
The thru-hikers left together; I imagined offering support and encouragement with their quests. Karen and I were on the trail soon after. There wasn’t any need to hurry; we only had five miles of hiking to reach Harpers Ferry and the end of our trip. We knew the walking would be fairly easy. According to my map, it was mostly downhill for a couple of miles and then a leisurely stroll along the old C&O canal towpath.
Continued…
May 27, 2011 - Posted by admin - 2 Comments
On our second day, we pushed ourselves well past our normal hiking range. There was a campground at Turners Gap, by US40, that boasted a free shower
and restaurant within minutes of the camp. After two days of dripping perspiration and trail food, both options sounded good.
The hiking was easier the second day. We were starting to get deeper into Maryland and the terrain was not quite as hilly. We still had to climb 1000 feet to some of the ridges, but when we got up on them, they were fairly level walking. On one ridge called High Rock, there was a flat rock jutting out over the cliff, used by Hang Gliders as a launch point. It must take a lot of nerve to run and jump off that ledge.
We ate lunch at another scenic lookout called Annapolis Rock and rested in the warm sunshine. There were some rock climbers scaling the wall on ropes far below, and we could hear their shouts of either fear or conquest rising up.
From Annapolis Rocks to Washington Monument, we encountered droves of day-hikers. The good weather of the weekend had brought everyone out to enjoy the woods. The AT crosses Rt.40 where a convenient parking lot allows families and pets to walk for a few hours and experience the trail.
For a while, we were counting how many thru-hikers we passed. By going South, we were meeting the North-bounders every half hour or so, and by the second day it became overwhelming to keep track. At first, I would ask them if they were headed to Maine, but eventually all we needed was a sniff to tell their destination. When one would pass, we would look at each other and say, “Thru-hiker!”.
We climbed the winding stair way to the top of the Washington Monument. Built in the early 1800’s by a small town in Maryland, this structure was the first, and decidedly more modest project than the one in Washington. Still, it provided panoramic views of the countryside. There was also a museum in the park and we spent a few minutes looking at the displays. After resting for a spell on the grassy lawn, and filling our water bottles from the faucet, we walked on to the campground.
At about 4:00 pm, we descended a ridge and walked across Alt. Rt.40 to the Backpackers campground. To our dismay, there were already two troops of Boy Scouts occupying the whole site. We found out later that because of flooding on a trail near Harpers Ferry, the scouts had diverted to this campground. Karen and I eventually found a place where we could pitch our tent, secluded within the woods and out of earshot of the scouts.
We took showers and walked to the restaurant. It was called the Old South Mountain Inn and was much more elegant than we needed, but the food was delicious and generous. They asked hikers that trickled in whether they had showered or not, and clean bodies were allows to enter the dining room, while stinky ones had to sit at the bar.
After dinner, we read more plaques, scattered on the lawn around the inn. It was quite confusing reading about the battles that sprang up in the area: what commander moved his army here; where the charges took place; what side pushed through and who retreated. We were getting tired by now and retreated ourselves to the campground for tea and hot chocolate.
We talked for a while to five men that were mirroring our exact hike. We talked briefly the night before but didn’t get to learn much about them until the third night. We turned in early and slept well through the night. In the morning, we were packed and on the trail by 7:30.
End of Part Two…
May 26, 2011 - Posted by admin - 4 Comments
On Monday, 5/23/11, Karen and I completed our backpacking adventure on the AT. We climbed through rolling mountains, traversed long scenic ridges with expansive views, scrambled over rocks and boulders, trudged up slopes that made sweat run down our backs, and descended knee jarring switchbacks into lush valleys. We met a lot of nice people and a few that were a bit odd. We mixed in with hikers that were decidedly grubby, a little bit smelly, and always hungry. We were transported into a place where nature decides your every comfort level and the world moves at a simple pace.
Our path traversed the whole width of Maryland along the South Mountain range. For forty miles, high above the Cumberland Valley, from Harpers Ferry to the Mason Dixon Line, the AT visits historic sites of the Civil War. This area was alive with skirmishes and battles leading up to the major conflicts of Antietam and Gettysburg. We enjoyed mixing in a little history lesson, now and then, as we hiked through State Parks and Monuments.
On our first day, we hiked about 9 miles to a dreary looking place called Ensign Cowall Shelter. When we got there we found it already occupied by two hikers. One young fellow sat outside making a pair of gaiters out of an abandoned garment someone had given him. We later learned that he was from Germany, and had the urge to travel to America and thru-hike the AT before he started his career. He turned out to be a delightful, friendly, intelligent guy and both Karen and I enjoyed his company. The other character was a piece of work. He lay in the shelter wrapped in his sleeping bag, sick from exhaustion and drugs. This was the first time he had ever been in the woods in his life, and he was so ill prepared for backpacking that he was a danger to himself. It was hard getting a story out of him that any of us could believe, but we gathered that he had come on the train to Harpers Ferry with a pack that weighed 150 pounds, and had walked for 10 days to get to this shelter that should normally be only two days hike. Besides being way out of shape and grossly overweight, he had nothing even practical for backpacking. What little clothes he had were soaked from walking in the rain, and he was living on some kind of Army rations. We heard stories of fishing in the river for catfish and building lean-tos for shelter. It didn’t take much thought for Karen and I to move to the area behind the shelter and pitch our tent for the night.
No sooner than we had settled in to our campsite, along came a troop of fifteen Boy Scouts. They pitched their tents in every available space in the area, surrounding us with their noise and chatter well onto the night. At one point, Karen even spoke to them, asking them to be quiet. They finally settled down and we got a few hours of restless sleep.
In the morning, we packed up early and planned a 14 mile hike that would put us well beyond the range of the Scout Troop.
To be continued…
