Sitting in a seedy little hiker “hotel” + pub in the small river town of Duncannon, PA, a slow and sleepy but sunny Saturday. This hostel is dripping with character, it being a four-story 1904 building with balcony porches, a chipped and painted turret, big staircases, and frosted glass windows complete with a “Hikers Welcome!” sign out front. Lovin’ it. Market Street strangely has a New Orleans French Quarter-esque (just this block) feel thanks to the hotel’s balcony, though definitely not as well-kept or as colorful. Overall, Duncannon is a poster child for down-and-out, small town USA: people sitting on dingy white plastic chairs at noon outside apartments, tattoed guys my age pushing kids on toy bicycles down the street, and boarded up Main Street businesses. This morning was the 10-minute Memorial Day parade. Hilarious:) Enjoyed an earful of jolly joking from the local old guys in Goodies, the morning diner watering hole. Still, the town is gorgeous, set on the banks of a muddy and flooding Susquahana River and shrouded in lush green hills on all sides, the streets narrow, old rowhouses flush with the street the way they should be, old East Coast style.
My spouse came to visit! And Chicago friends! I can’t even describe the flood of emotions of seeing my wife BY SURPRISE when I arrived in Harpers Ferry. Needless to say, it was a memorable five days of hiking across the Potomac and through Maryland. Erin earned the name for the week of “Snakeyes” when she heard a rustling sound and a squeek near the Battle of Antietem site: a black rat snake that captured and was constricting a chipmunk! We watched as the snake swallowed it whole. It’s truly like living the Discovery Channel out here. She spotted other snakes in those few days, as well. While we were all together, we had a number of adventures, ranging from hearing a bizarre barking noise late the first night (think it was male deer), Paul and I getting lost from the ladies the second night (don’t ask - we’re over it), sleeping in a shelter in sweltering heat, eating “chicken of the woods” (chicken-like fungi) sauted in butter over a fire and delicious camp food thanks to Double Bag’s parents (hobo pies, fruit cobblers, corn on the cob over the fire, etc), and a rainy last day that ended with an AYCE Pennsylvania Dutch breakfast buffet and a sad goodbye. Can’t tell you how hard it is to be away from your spouse in this way, then have to say goodbye again.
Lots of hiking solo after that, and bad (read: damp) weather this week. Thought sure I was going to get struck by lightning Thursday night, camping solo on the edge of a field in Amish farm country. Scariest night yet on the trail - at 2 a.m., I put on rain gear and sat outside in the pouring rain away from the tent, feeling I was safer that way. Longest night ever, little sleep, and a bit worried since I was told camping wasn’t allowed. I was seriously afraid for my life. The next morning I was thrilled to wake up and move on, putting in a 24 mile day as I hiked along flooding streams and soaked my legs, feet, and whole body, the body tired and feeling mildewed, disgusting. At least my day ended with a clearing sky and a spectacular view of the river valley, quaint little Duncannon PA below.
More snakes this week (milksnake or copperhead), indigo buntings and goldfinches, pileated woodpeckers, crayfish (’crawdads"), groundhogs, and toads galore (sp?). With lower elevations, the plant life is changing, though we’re further north and occassionally seeing evergreens more typical of New England. The fields here in PA are now blooming with purple vetch, magenta clover, daisies, and tall grasses interupted by islands of black walnut, hackberry, and mulberry which should soon be ripening, as will the raspberrries and blackberries. Luckily, the hilltops here still boast oak-pine scrub with blueberry shrubs and camel-colored clay, gravel, and turpentine-ish pine bark chips. The smell is truly indescribable, forever etched in my senses, my memories.
Finished Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, still lingering on the words that deepen my reflections on the complexity, mystery, and majesty of the natural world, its inspirations and meanings. The book looks well-loved, wavy and swollen with moisture, but still in tact.
Scary to see other thru hikers this week getting hit with giardia (microbe causing horrific GI problems), injuries, or simply quit after finishing half the trail. Many are behind or ahead, and the trail is quiet, a mixed blessing.
On I go, out into “Rocksylvania,” a stretch many hikers dread. We’ll see how bad it really is. Can’t wait for New Jersey, the trail going through my old sales territory from the summer of ‘02 when I did door-to-door sales. I wonder what seven years of change has done to the area.
Peace to you all,
Birches
