Mason Dixon line, double post.

July 1, 2011

Start:  1046.1 Ensign Cowall shelter, in tent
End:    1057.6 Old road bed, trail party.
Total:     12.5 miles

Last night Bluegrass music was blaring below me from homes along the road that I crossed .2 before arriving here.  Either it was a big party, or just someone jamming out to good tunes.  Thankfully my pizza has not juiced through it's box, and I choke down the three huge slices of sausage that I have left.  I pack and wander over to the shelter to be social with the guys just waking up over there.  There not in a hurry to get anywhere, so the can afford the luxury of peacefully enjoying a morning. 

My schedule is set in stone.  I need to be in class at NAU in Flagstaff at nine in the morning August 29th.  This tight schedule is forcing me to average 21.85 miles a day for one hundred days of hiking, six zero days, and a few travel days.  So far I'm ahead of tagged tight schedule by two days.  I have already taken seven zero days, including combined nearos, but have made them all up except for one by walking hard. 

I leave late, nine o'clock, but the miles whiz by.  Then the trail gets rocky.  It is more of a boulder scramble then trail.  The only way you could tell it was the Appalachian trail were the white blazes on the trees.  It's amazing that some areas of the trail are built well, then other areas were never even constructed in the first place.  They become more like scrambling.

When I cross into Pennsylvania, I also cross the Mason Dixon line.  This line which separated North from South, I believe, also was the northern boundary of slavery.

I tell myself that I will not go to the Chinese Buffet in Waynesboro, Pa., but I'm hungry when I get to the road crossing plus the temperature is already ninety and climbing.  After a few very hot minutes a car turns around, that pas sed, and drives me straight to the Old City Buffet where I stay nearly four hours.  I use this time not only to practice for the competitive eating circuit, but also to do homework and email it in for my summer's Practicum at NAU.

My fortune, "You are coming into your own power - enjoy."

I hitch back to the trail and see Sky High and friends setting up camp early I chill with them for a while, full in buffet, before realizing that I have to make more miles.  I climb over a six hundred foot hill then descending, here some girls yelling at me to come over.  I say, "I have to make miles."  Then a guy yells, "we have Whiskey."  Now they were speaking ky language.  The girls, Guinea, and Shag Bark are sobo doing a twelve hundred mile section.  The guy is Jesus, a nobo. 

Needless to say, I made no more miles.  Tue four of us killed the bottle, and tried really hqrd not to burn down the forest with the three dollar brick of spinny fire works I bought today.  We would through a string, then go running around like wild men stamping out all the burning forest debris.



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July 2, 2011

Start:  1057.6 Old road bed.
End:   1083.8 Birch Run shelter
Total:     26.2 miles

Today was another late start day.  The two girls got up and went to get us all more water before six.  Jesus and I didn't muster till seven, when we were surprised with fresh pumped water.  An awesome treat when everyone is out.  Jesus almost decided to go sobo with them, even leaving, but returned fifteen minutes later.  I was talking to Red Stripe who had just completed the four state challenge.   This forty two mile challenge takes you through the states of Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland, across the Mason Dixon Line and into Pennsylvania.  Jesus returned, and I was perplexed at why he would turn around and go sobo for a girl.  The two girls were probably a little confused as well when he announced that he was going to hike south with them, I definitely was.

Today is hot, but the trail is flat.  I only lake a marathon, but spend time socializing with other hikers along the way.  I even take an hour break at Caledonia state park with Spicoli and Jesus.   I eat mac n' cheese that Spicoli made and doesn't want.  Then we lighten my pack blowing off the remaining, pathetically weak fireworks.  We wonder if a large family gathering consisting of forty people with hate tatoos, recreating in a Ramadan nearby would feed us if we went over there and yelled, "white power" every time we threw a fire cracker. 

None of us go to the large swimming pool at the park.  For five dollars entrance, just the opportunity to shower and do laundry would be worth it, yet alone, use the water slide.  After a much to long break, I speed down flat trail and make a marathon to a rather large, very clean, new, and empty shelter.  I wasn't going to stop until dark, but the opportunity to get a shelter to myself cannot be passed.  Dinner is Beef flavored Ramen and instant potatoes, while the thunderous booms of distant fireworks displays, rock the night.