"Wouldn't it be nice...?"

New Jersey= beautiful hiking. Lexi is back on the move, reluctant at first, but she managed a big smile when we came across a lake and she was able to go swimming and chase sticks. Walked through the mud (yea we've gotten rain everyday for the past month) and into Unionville, NY to pick up a package for Lexi at the local PO. That package wasn't in, so we inquired about a place to stay in town, and after talking with a Brit name Tony Peanuts we learned about a place called the "Outhouse" or the old Unionville Mayor's house.

But first we had to visit the local watering hole and inquire about cold frosty beverages. Conversations at the bar included international politics... very deep for 3pm on a Thursday in Unionville, NY, but at least we could engage in loose vocabulary... love being back in the North!

We cut ourselves off early and headed up the hill to the Mayor's house... when we arrived, we were greeted warmly and all invited into the house, Lexi included. A man named Butch leads us to the basement which is AC'ed and gives us the rules:

1. Make yourself at home and treat it like your home.
2. Jiggle the handle on the toilet after use, no shitting in the Downstairs toilet.
3. First beer is free, the next 3 are $0.25 each... 4 beer limit
4. There will be a $0.25 charge for every word over 3 cylables... so don't be a fuckin smarty pants!
5. Don't call Butch "sir" or he'll hit your friend (i've been hit twice!)
6. Breakfast is at 6:30am, all must attend...
7. There will be mandatory viewing in the evening...
8. Make yourself at home!

What a place! Dick is the man in charge, and he is the retired mayor of Unionville. Bill is an old Jewish man (80 yrs old) with a charmingly mean disposition. Butch is a middle aged guy who helps out and gives hikers rides around town. The three of them make you feel welcome instantly and it is clear that this is not your southern bible belt hostel... cold beer is in the fridge and the f-bomb is prefered, not shunned. I can feel more comfortable in this enviornment and lexi is also very relaxed!

After a delicous dinner of ham and potatoes with fresh corn on the cob and strawberry shortcake, a summer thunderstorm roles in and we retreat for a quick safety break, just before the show was set to start.then we settle into folding chairs and couches in the living room where the evening entertainment is cued up and ready for viewing.

Dick stands in front of the TV, the DVD menu of Peter Pott is paused, and the lighting warmly displays the framed artwork on the wall behind the TV stage. The artwork is amazing, photos, paintings, and what appears to be a dart gun with eagle feathers and a tennis ball on one end. This may also be a hiking stick, it is the centerpiece of the stage enjoying a dedicated light just to display its grandeur. Dick addresses the 6 hikers waiting curiously amidst the bangs of proximal thunder strikes:

"Now you pay the price for staying here," Dick starts.
"Bill, Butch and I admire each of you and what you are doing.. even though we think you are all fucking crazy. Whatever your goal is we hope that you will accomplish it."

The first piece we watch is about a British Opera singer who stunned the world on a TV show called "Britain's Got Talent". The guy, Peter Pott has an incredible voice and the Italian piece he is singing is full of emotion. Dick tells us that what he is singing is " I will win".. . he sings this with intense emotion... very intense emotion. I get choked up watching this guy sing... and for the first time I realized how significant accomplishing this trail is for me... the personal victory... setting a goal and realizing it. I am moved, and unexpectedly so.

The second video is slideshow that a past thru hiker's son put together for his dad, Serene, who finished the trail on his 60th birthday. The significance of this video piggybacked the emotions stirred by Dick's speech and the previous opera moment. After the video was over, Dick began to tell us a story about why he is doing this... offering his home to hikers selflessly. Dick's late wife lived with MS for 15 years and passed in 2003. Just before her passing, Dick began to take interest in hikers that would visit town for the Post Office and the general store. Even though he was the acting town mayor, Dick knew very little about these smelly ragged looking people, but he was aware of the town's feeling towards hikers, which was not overwhelmingly welcome, in fact he says "They (the town people) just want you to spend your money and leave"

He would talk with the hikers and learned that the people he thought were homeless were people from all over the world, some were doctors, students, lawyers, soldiers, etc. These people were educated and very interesting and he told this to his wife, but he followed this by saying, "You don't want to end up downwind of these folks, cuz they smell like shit!" His wife would giggle and then one day she asked him a questions he says "You just had to say yes to."

She put them in the shoes of hikers and asked "Wouldn't it be nice if someone helped us, gave us a shower, laundry, a meal?" Dick says, "Of course!" And 4 years after her passing, he first opened his doors to hikers. Having his door open to hikers, the world comes to his doorstep as he puts it. It genuinely makes him very happy to help. It has saved Bill's life to help hikers, as Dick is sure he would have died by now having no purpose... but the three of them help us and in so doing, help themselves.

This is the beauty of this trail... a win-win situation, hikers motivated by a deep desire to walk the entirety of the white-blazed trail.. the longest continuous footpath in the world.... and the people who find happiness and beautiful satisfaction in helping us on our journey.

Dick says "After meeting all you hikers, you crazy fucking people, I feel there is hope for the world" And it's crazy to think that just by walking this walk, our goal brings satisfaction to others. Ordinary people with a crazy idea, a dream, and the ability to bring hope and happiness to everyone we meet.

So in th spirit of Independence Day, all of us as Americans should be thankful to have something like this trail in our backyards... for this trail is way more than a footpath connecting two locations, it is the backbone of our nation connecting us all in a common thread of Love, the real kind of love, the love that consumes you, the kind of love that makes you do something nice for a stranger, and then pay the kindness forward... the kind of love this world needs right now.

And so we're gonna stay one more night and head out tomorrow AM, for CT by next weekend.

TT

2.5 million steps

Welcome back to WATC, broadcasting live from the AT... this time in Delaware Water Gap, a place I have an old connection with... old being relative, 1o years ago was the last time I was here... and at that time I was working with the Pack Shack crew on the Delaware River... but that was then... and this is now:

Let's dive right into this... it all started with beer and angles... not the typical duo, but why would typical have anything to do with this story?

In my attempt to leave Harpers Ferry, I became sidetracked by writing some correspondence and a feeling of loneliness in the absence of Safety Patrol. So I began to wander around the town and was corralled by a nice couple for a glass of ice tea... I felt like an impostor... I hadn't hiked in almost 7 days and these people wanted to know about life on the trail. We chatted for a few minutes and they mentioned that they were both Christians and wanted to spread the word of the Gospel. I had encountered this before, but this was the first time that I felt uneasy in the presence of missionaries trying to share the word of God with me. I thanked them for the ice tea and went on my way, not really in the mood to think about God and such. After I dropped off a package at the PO, I grabbed a 40 oz of Mickeys and walked down to the river and sat on a tall wall next to the bridge that crossed the Shenandoah River... after all, nothing displays gross heresy like afternoon booze drinking in public!

And so began the walk into Maryland and PA. The terrain was flat and easy, no mountains. I walked with InTents and Sawman with short cameos from other thru-hikers but nothing long lasting. We began to miss our friends L-Train, Andy, and SnakeEyes... good companions in debauchery... as we continuously found ourselves amidst beer drinking opportunities; pubs, inns, biker bars, and liquor stores. We spent a night in Waynesboro, PA where we met an old thru-hiker, MacGyver, who shared stories and gave us rides around town and back to the trail. Miles were easy, but our will to complete them was weak. Perhaps the trail experience was getting in the way of our hiking?!

A few days later we crossed the Mason-Dixon line, officially in the North! It felt good to know we walked all the way from Georgia to that point, and our pace picked up a bit. They say we walk about 5 million steps over the 2185 miles (by no means an exact science) and so when we crossed the official halfway point, our feet had made contact with the ground about 2.5 million times, left-foot right-foot... all the way to the "half-way half-gallon challenge" which takes place at Pine Grove Furnace State Park. Some hikers will buy a 1/2 gallon of ice cream from the camp store and fill themselves full of creamy icey goodness of a flavor of their choosing. I did not choose to participate in this challenge, I don't like ice cream enough, and the cheeseburger sub looked much tastier... but Tents and Sawman did take the challenge and both completed their 1/2 gallon in under and hour... with looks of possible stomach evacuation in the future, but I was unable to work either into projectile ice cream displays.

The first few days in PA were great... Pizza, pools, lakes, flat terrain... and we were sober for all of it. This was my attempt to regain control on the hiking part of the adventure, and it worked great...we wandered into Duncannon earlier than expected, sans InTents due to a "cowshit mission" detour, and got ourselves the corner penthouse room in the Doyle hotel.

The Doyle hotel is the old Budweiser Hotel built almost 1oo years ago with a bar in the lobby. The beer was cheap, but the room was a sad display of clean, in fact it lacked any qualities of clean, new, or sterile... but hey, the beer was cheap and Pitsurg (aka "No Budget") was buying so capturing some snooze time was easy regardless of the ragged conditions of the quarters.

The next morning we engaged in a Lions Club campground search, and after many miles and terrible intel, we found the object of our search, a stove where we could cook some cowboy stew; eggs, bacon, corn, salsa, cheese, potatoes, and toast. We enjoyed breakfast to the entertaining antics of the "Jerry Springer Show"... with no sound, just closed captions. This was a strange TV experience, strange strange experience. But not as strange as what was to happen next.

As we crossed the Junianic River and down an off-ramp on the Clarks Ferry Bridge I spotted a kitten crouched in the gap between two Jersey Barriers. The kitten was 1/4 mile up the ramp and not looking so hot. We dropped our packs and grabbed our cameras and headed over to this odd scene to investigate and possibly offer help. The kitten did not follow us with its eyes as we got closer, and we could see blood on its bottom lip... it barely moved or seemed disturbed by our presense... until suddenly it jumped off its perch and raced scantily down the ramp. We donned our packs and headed in the same direction of the cat... I was looking off the bridge at the river, scoping a possible jump, when I noticed an animal swimming in the river just below us about 30 yards off the bank. It was the crazy kitten!! It was swimming but not doing so well, and heading for a rapid. We watched it head into the rapid and disappear. We stood there stunned, disbeleif.... had we just witnessed a cat's suicide? Did the cat jump the 30 foot distance from bridge to water? It had to have, in order to be as far off shore as it was directly below us. But why? Do animals kill themselves consciously? What a trip... it looked like the cat saw something so terrible that it didn't want to be a part of the living anymore... what it saw will always be a mystery that I will not think about... too messed up. Maybe it was just rabid and crazy?!

I can't say it didn't affect me, or us for a few days. But we walked it off, as any good hiker would do! 20+ miles each day on some nice flat ridges, knowing that we would soon be at the dreaded PA rocks! Many good things happened along the way and I want to talk write about it... perhaps in the extended version! Right now I'm tired and need to get some sleep before we get back on the trail tomorrow. Mom and Dad have been here acting in kind as "Angels" and with them they brought Lex! It is great to see her and I have to decide if she is up for hiking... if only she could talk!

Tropical Thunder (formerly known as SpaceShip)

P.S. At the half-way point I decided to change my name to Tropical Thunder, mostly because of a pair of bright orange hiking shorts that I picked up in Waynesboro, PA and also because there is another hiker named Spaceman, and we can't have that kind of confusion.