“My trust is in the mercy and wisdom of a kind Providence, who ordereth all things for our good.” – Robert E. Lee

“You have brains in your head, and feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose.” – Theodor Seuss Geisel (Dr. Seuss)

Day 129

Less than a mile into my morning hike, I arrived at the Great Falls from which Falls Village gets its name. Some consider them the best falls on the AT. I think they are the loudest and most powerful, but as for pure beauty, I would give the edge to Laurel Falls and Dismal Falls.

At mile 1498.8 I took a .5 mile side trail west to the cute little town of Salisbury, founded in 1741. Like my wife in a Sunday dress, it looked upscale and classy but not pretentious. Meryl Streep and her family live here, and it was also the home of Margaret Hamilton (the Wicked Witch of the West) prior to her death. As I walked down the main drag a construction worker holding a sign asked how I was doing and how my hike was going. I told him I was hungry and Salisbury was about to solve that problem. At the Salisbury pharmacy, a kind young lady helped me find Turmeric and then, without prompting, told me where to find groceries and a place to charge my phone. She knows and loves hikers (or maybe just dug my beard) and is a good Ambassador for the town. I got some groceries and a large sub, and sat down next to Torch to eat lunch. Another hiker named Taskmaster walked by to warn us that a big storm was due in that afternoon. I filed that away in the things to possibly care about later in the day part of my brain.

I left Salisbury, got back on the AT, and hiked along a really pretty and not too difficult section of trail. With storm clouds threatening, I climbed Lions Head and got water with Smiley (a retired NASA rocket scientist) at the Riga Shelter. A mile later I stopped at the Brassie Brook Shelter to have dinner with Long Strider, who showed me a picture of a large bear that he spotted a mile up the trail. It’s interesting that Long Strider does a lot of slack packing (hiking without a backpack) and routinely passes me and yet he never stays ahead for long. His approach also includes the use of a fellow hiker’s cars to position themselves so that they can go in the easier direction that day. He’ll end up having an easier hike than me but I’m not sure his approach will get him to the end any quicker.  Maybe his goal is just an easier hike.

Since the storm had passed and I still had some fuel in my tank, I hiked on and made a tough descent down to the Sages Ravine Campsite. Just prior to arriving, I entered the state of Massachusetts, although the welcome sign is incorrectly placed a bit further down the trail. As I entered the state, I couldn’t help but loudly say some words that I heard many times growing up as a young Philadelphia 76ers fan. Prior to their home games, the announcer’s final player introduction, which I always said along with him, was…”Number 6, from the University of Massachusetts…Julius Errrrrrrr-ving!” Julius Erving (Dr. J), Roger Staubach (Cowboys), and Mike Schmidt (Phillies) were my three main childhood sports idols. I also had crushes on Marianne (from Gilligan’s Island), Julie (from the Love Boat), and the Cheryl’s (Tiegs and Ladd). I digress.

This popular camping area has a caretaker on site giving instructions on where and where not to camp and answering hiker questions. I sat my tent up next to Josh, an artist from near Hartford who makes a living as a handyman. He’s out on a section hike but is considering a thru-hike some day. I was happy to answer his questions about my gear and experiences on the trail. Had he asked me to, I would have introduced Dr. J.

Day 130

The morning hike along Sages Ravine was absolutely gorgeous. There were dozens of small waterfalls and swimming holes. Massachusetts was off to a great start. As I made the tough climb up to Mount Everett, I passed a group of young trail maintainers preparing to drill and insert metal rebar steps into the side of boulders on the most difficult portion of the climb. They are known as the Greenagers, and I thanked them for what they are doing. Many future hikers will benefit from their work. As for Fob, I had to scale the boulders sans rebar, and I did it like a Mountain Goat after getting into a case of 10 Hour Energy shots.

At the Guilder Pond Picnic Area, about halfway down Mount Everett, I came to my first Massachusetts Trail Magic! During hiking season, a local woman comes to this spot every single day to refill two dozen jugs of water. What a cool thing to do! While sitting there taking a break, a van came zooming up a forest road and whipped into the parking lot. “Great Scott!” said I. I just assumed they were Libyan terrorists trying to get plutonium from Doc Brown. I was prepared to tell them that Doc had already used the plutonium to power his DeLorean Time Machine. But that proved to be unnecessary, as they were not terrorists. On the contrary, it was Rob and Nomad, who had arrived to do some Trail Magic! The back of Rob’s van had drinks and snacks for me and several other hikers, including Long Strider, Josh, and Steve and Eric, who collectively go by the trail name Sega. They are former Special Operations troops and we know some of the same people at Special Operations Command (SOCOM).

At mile 1518.8 I crossed Sheffield Egremont Road and came to the Shays’ Rebellion Monument. In 1786 and 1787 Revolutionary War veteran Daniel Shays led 4000 rebels in rising up against perceived economic injustices and the suspension of civil rights by Massachusetts. Although the rebels suffered a military defeat, their rebellion had two history changing consequences. First, the rebellion brought George Washington out of retirement to help resolve the conflict. That eventually led him to becoming our first President. Second, national leaders called for a stronger government to deal with future rebellions, which led to the convening of a Constitutional Convention. So Shays’ Rebellion was a big deal, and it came to an end in the field I walked through.

A couple of miles later I arrived at US 7. Although the towns of Sheffield and Great Barrington were just a few miles away, I didn’t need a re-supply. However, I did walk .2 miles west and charged my phone from an outlet on the front porch of a closed furniture store. While it was charging, I sat down under a nearby oak tree and ate supper and watched the cars go by.

I hiked a couple more miles and began looking for a place to stealth camp. It was getting late, I had hiked 18.1 miles, and I was low on water, so stopping near a water source was paramount. I noticed in my guidebook that an approaching footbridge might have water underneath it. When I arrived at the footbridge I looked down and the little ravine appeared bone dry. I was really bummed as that meant I would have to hike three more miles in the dark to the next water source or get by with just a few ounces of water that evening and the next morning. Not liking either option and really needing water, I decided to look harder. I walked way up under the bridge and into a dark, narrow ravine. I saw something shiny at the base of it and that something turned out to be a just a few inches of spring water! I was so happy that I filmed a video of the water source there. I drank nearly two liters of water before going to bed.

As I laid there in my tent next to the footbridge, I reflected on what had just transpired. I think there are two takeaways. First, I think some of God’s blessings are near us and available to us, but it takes some extra effort on our part to find them. He showers us with countless blessings, but not all of them are dropped right in our lap. I found the water because I kept looking for it. I was borderline desperate, but I was also determined and showed some initiative. You won’t find water in every seemingly dry ravine. However, you will find it occasionally simply by not giving up and making a little extra effort. I wonder how many blessings I’ve missed out on in life simply because I gave up too soon, not willing to try harder or look under a seemingly dry ravine.

My second takeaway deals with prayer. When I get on the trail each morning, I make some very specific requests of God, based on my plans and desires for the day. I’ll ask God to remove my foot numbness or to hold off on an anticipated thunderstorm until I’m in my tent that night. But since my second month on the trail, I began daily (on my first AT step of the day) asking God to “Please give me whatever it is I need today to get through it.” Because God knows what I need better than I do. Maybe I need a little foot numbness to slow my pace to avoid injury. Maybe I need a mid-day thunderstorm, however scary, to replenish water sources that are about to dry up. Maybe he needs me to stop after 14 miles, rather than 18, because there’s someone I need to meet and talk to at the campsite 14 miles away. God has the big picture and the whole picture. So I’ll ask for things based on my narrow perspective, but ultimately I want the God of the big picture to give me whatever it is I need. On Day 129, I prayed that prayer. And on Day 129, God gave me what I needed…an extra ounce of energy and initiative late in the day to go looking for water under the footbridge. He placed it there, in a natural spring, and I think he might have smiled a bit when I found it.

Fob

“I still need more healthy rest in order to work at my best. My health is the main capital I have and I want to administer it intelligently.” – Ernest Hemingway

“‘On with the dance, let the joy be unconfined!’ is my motto, whether there’s any dance to dance or any joy to unconfine.” – Mark Twain

Day 127

I woke up today and realized I needed a break. It had been 17 days since my last zero or near-0 and a recharge was overdue. I’ve previously blogged about Stephen Covey’s Habit 2, Begin with the End in Mind, and how that principle is useful on the AT. Day 127 was all about Habit 7, Sharpen the Saw. According to Covey, sharpening the saw is about preserving and enhancing the greatest asset you have–you. It is critically important to renew yourself physically, socially/emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. Doing so allows you to stay fresh, have energy, and take on the challenges that life deals you. If you fail to sharpen the saw, according to Covey, your body becomes weak, your mind mechanical, your emotions raw, your spirit insensitive, and your person selfish. That’s a bad position to be in, especially out on a long distance hike.

Here’s how I’ve gone about sharpening the saw on the AT:

– Physically – taking zeros and near-0s and staying off my feet. Getting a massage in Birmingham while in town for my son’s wedding. Soaking in a hot tub in Hot Springs. Enjoying various hot, Epsom salt, essential oil baths at friends’ homes and hotels. Especially during the first two months, taking breaks during the day and soaking my feet in a cold mountain stream. The AT pounds you physically, all day long, for five to seven months. You simply must create opportunities to rest and rejuvenate your body.

– Socially/Emotionally. I have been renewed socially many times simply by good conversation around a campfire, in a shelter, or on a lunch break. When you hear five different and funny stories about people falling in the mud, you start to view it as something funny, not a hiking disaster. I have been encouraged, strengthened and renewed by some amazing people out here. I have also been emotionally renewed from phone calls and texts with my family, and wonderful comments on my personal and Trail Journals blogs. Emotionally, I’ve tried to just let my emotions run wild. I’ve cried thinking about my mom. I’ve gotten angry at rocks (which does a lot of good!). I’ve laughed with people, at people, and about people. Letting these emotions run their course sort of resets me.

– Mentally. I try to keep my mind sharp by thinking about all sorts of things. Sometimes I’ll calculate my average miles per hour, or number of days until the end at different daily mileage averages, or the number of bugs I can kill per hour, or how long to a shelter going 1.75 or 2.25 miles per hour. Sometimes I write songs or blogs in my head or analyze the lyrics to songs. I’ve tried to remember the names of all my past teachers, all the tight ends the Dallas Cowboys have ever had, my Top 10 favorite songs and movies and places, and other useless information.

– Spiritually. For me, the AT has been a highly spiritual environment, even more so than I anticipated. God’s creative power and awesomeness is so overwhelmingly evident all day long. How anyone could hike the AT and end up an atheist is beyond me. For 127 straight days I have said at least one long prayer every day and usually several each day. Sadly, that’s not something I did nearly as well in my pre-AT life. I think my prayers have been more conversational and less formulaic. I’ve also been renewed by attending worship services whenever possible, participating in an online Bible study, and listening to inspirational iBooks. Although I will return to the real world a flawed, sinful man, I think this experience has made me a stronger Christian.

So it was time for some renewal. I made an easy 4.1 mile hike to CT 4 and then hiked .9 miles east to the town of Cornwall Bridge. It was a nice little town in which to sharpen the saw. I stayed and did laundry at the Hitching Post Motel. I ate three massive meals at the Cornwall Country Market while talking to the locals. I also visited Housatonic River Outfitters/Bookstore and bought a bottle of Permethrin to spray my clothes with.

My time in Cornwall Bridge was certainly rejuvenating for my body, mind, soul, and spirit. My saw was sharpened and I looked forward to a good night of sleep in a bed before hiking on.

Day 128

After a huge breakfast at the Cornwall Country Marker, I made my way back to the trail and spent the day on a roller coaster of small ups and downs. The weather was nice and I felt really good. That’s what hiking with a sharpened saw does for a person.

After 14 miles of hiking I arrived at the quaint town of Falls Village, founded in 1840. Falls Village, the second smallest town in Connecticut, is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. It’s the kind of place you’d go to get away from it all and write a book.

My guidebook said that tenting was possible behind the hiker-friendly Toymaker Cafe, so I headed that way. Greg and Ann Bidou run the cafe, which was unfortunately closed for the day when I arrived. However, Greg kindly offered to fill my water bottles and showed me where I could tent behind the cafe. Greg’s side business, T100 Toymakers, imports parts for vintage British motorcycles. A red barn behind the cafe is filled with frames and matching motors for old Triumphs just waiting to be rebuilt.

I tented in the backyard along with a few other hikers including Lou and Julie. Before dozing off, I looked in my guidebook and noticed tomorrow I would cross the 1500 mile milestone and enter a new state. A lot of miles remain on this journey…I’ll need to keep my saw sharp.

Fob

“The aim, if reached or not, makes great the life: Try to be Shakespeare, leave the rest to fate.” – Robert Browning

“The only human beings I have thoroughly admired and respected in the world have been those who carried the load of the world with a smile, and who, in the face of anxieties that would have knocked me clean out, never showed a tremor.” – Henry Brooks Adams

Day 123

I left Graymoor and headed north feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. It was a warm day and the trail was like a kiddie roller coaster with short ups and downs. I set my sights on Clarence Fahnestock State Park. Just after World War 1, an influenza epidemic hit the United States. While treating patients with the disease, Dr. Fahnestock became sick himself and died. His brother Ernest later donated the property to the government as a memorial to Clarence, and they turned it into a 14,337 acre state park and recreation area.

I arrived at NY 301 at 3:10 p.m. and saw a sign posted on a tree that there was a snack bar at the park, that it was two miles away, and that it closed at 4:00 p.m. I took off down the trail like Forrest Gump when he was being chased by the bullies. I went about as fast as I could go given the terrain and weather and my fifty-year-old feet. When you live off of crackers, granola bars, and tortillas, the very thought of a concession stand burger can make you salivate and hike like a mad man. At 3:52 I arrived at the edge of the lake in a full sweat. I ran up the sidewalk by the beach, dropped my pack, and stormed into the snack bar at 3:58 p.m. “Can I still get a burger?” I asked, huffing and puffing. “Sure,” the young lady at the counter replied. “We don’t close until 5:00.” I was elated they were still open. I was also frustrated that I had unnecessarily gone into sprint mode for nearly an hour. I stayed there 90 minutes, drying out while eating a bacon cheeseburger, ice cream, and Gatorade.

I traveled another five miles and ended my 18.8 mile day at the RPH Shelter. I arrived too late to order pizza, but once again earlier arriving hikers had plenty of leftovers and offered me some. I set my tent up and then sat around sharing stories with northbound and southbound hikers and a trail maintainer.

Day 124

New York’s reputation for having a deli or eatery at every road crossing is only slightly exaggerated. That trend continued today when I arrived at NY 52 and travelled .4 miles east to enjoy two slices of pizza. While sitting there eating and surfing the Internet, I came across an article that would serve as my inspiration today.

Thirty-three year old Drew Houston founded Dropbox, the file-sharing and storage service, at age twenty-four. He was a billionaire by the age of thirty-one. While giving a commencement speech in 2013 at MIT, his alma mater, he said if he could give a cheat sheet to his twenty-two year old self, it would have three things on it: “a tennis ball, a circle, and the number 30,000.” The tennis ball is about finding the thing you’re infatuated with. His dog gets obsessed and goes wild when you pull out a tennis ball and the most successful people he knows are obsessed with solving a problem that really matters to them. The circle represents the idea that you are the average of your five closest friends, so be sure to surround yourself with people that bring out your best. Finally, 30,000 represents the number of days the average person lives. So you have to make each of those days count.

I left the pizza place full, motivated, and with 3 liters of water, because water sources in New York are infrequent and unreliable. My afternoon hike featured a snake sighting, a deer sighting, and a stroll around the north end of beautiful Nuclear Lake. In 1958 the federal government set up a secret experimental nuclear fuel research lab along the shore of this lake. The site was fenced in and guarded and the experiments involved uranium and other radioactive materials. In the early 1970s two serious accidents occurred at the site, both resulting in the release of radioactive material. Although the site has since been given a clean bill of health, I opted not to get water there or fish for a 3-headed trout.

One of the most interesting parts of hiking the AT to me is not knowing how a day will end. What will the weather do? Will there be a flat spot to set up my tent? Will there be a water source? Will I see anybody I know? You see a day playing out a certain way and then all of a sudden something very different transpires. It is really important to be flexible, keep a sense of humor, and go with the flow.

I envisioned arriving at the Telephone Pioneers Shelter, getting water, and tenting there. When I arrived late in the day, I discovered there were no good, level tenting spots and the nearby stream was completely dry. Apparently this spot wasn’t meant to be. Little Rhino and Loligag from Arkansas were there and kindly offered me some of their water but I declined. Their water is for them and I was not yet in an emergency situation. My guidebook said if the stream is dry, hike .7 more miles and get water from a purple house just east of the trail on West Dover Road.

I arrived at the purple house and saw that a hiker named Rasputin was already there getting water from a spigot on the side of the house. The house was vacant and it was starting to get dark. We would hike on a footbridge, across a swamp, and then along a long boardwalk if we continued further north. So, we decided to go to the far side of the house, not visible by the neighbors, and camp there in the yard. Technically, we were trespassing as the only thing expressly allowed is access to the spigot. I was willing to take the chance of being cited for trespassing in order to have a nice, flat grassy tenting spot near a water spigot. In fact, as it got dark, I went back and used the warm water spigot (there were two) to give myself an Allan from Colorado-style full-body sponge bath.

Day 124 (one of about 30,000 in my life, if I’m lucky) didn’t turn out like I had planned, but it turned out just fine. Tomorrow would be a new day and I looked forward to what was in store. Why? Because right now hiking the AT is my passion…my tennis ball…and I know I will need a lot of that to make it to the end.

Fob

“It is difficulties that show what men are.” – Epictetus

“Being optimistic after you’ve got ever’thing you want don’t count.” – Kin Hubbard

Day 120

I awoke at 6:00 a.m. to the sound of rain, so I rolled over and slept some more and then listened to an iBook entitled Kingdom Man by Tony Evans. After the rain stopped I headed north on a wet, puddle-filled AT. Near mile 1378.3 I passed the Long Distance Trails Crew on a break and gave them a fist pump and my thanks for their important work on the trail. Later, near West Mombasha Road and again at the Orange Turnpike, sweet souls had left jugs of water for hikers they may never meet.

While descending Arden Mountain, I slipped and fell on my behind. After not falling for about the first 800 miles on the AT, I’ve fallen about eight times since. No harm was done other than some dirt on my shorts and pack. At NY 17, I caught up with Foxfire, who was enjoying some water and apples, our third trail magic of the day. Is that too much? Absolutely not, especially when you’re talking about water… in mid-summer…on a stretch with notoriously unreliable water sources. Good job, New Yorkers!

Late in the day, I arrived at the Arden Valley Road parking area and saw a tent set up. Yes, it was full-up Trail Magic, the fourth of the day, courtesy of Uncle Rog. Uncle Rog asked if I wanted a burger, sausage, or both. I’ll bet you already know my answer. He also had a tub full of all types of snacks and a cooler full of drinks. He previously thru-hiked the AT and, like so many others, does trail magic to give back and stay connected to the AT community. After filling my stomach, emptying my trash, and grabbing a few snacks, I thanked him and hiked on.

A short while later I entered Harriman State Park which is jaw-droppingly gorgeous and will easily make my final Top 10 AT sections list. There are several things that set it apart. First, the forest is less dense than elsewhere on the trail, allowing sunlight beams to shine through and cast beautiful shadows. Next, it has long, vibrant green grass that makes you want to plop down on it and take a nap. Third, throw in scenic lakes and large boulders spread throughout the park. Finally, the trail itself is not overly rocky or strenuous, which allows a hiker to glance up more often to enjoy the views.

At mile 1385.1, after a rain-shortened 11.7 mile day, I pitched my tent in a terrific spot overlooking Island Pond. After setting up camp and having supper, I took a good close look at my trail shoes. They had served me well for hundreds of miles, but it was time to say goodbye. I set them in the fire ring, put a match to them, and sang Ring of Fire as they quickly went up in flames. (Yes, I know that is bad for the environment. So are the fumes produced in my tent each night.) With the fire still burning, I pulled out my new Salomon XA Pro 3Ds, a full size larger because the trail has swelled and flattened out my feet. Strangely, it was a bit of a morale boost being in this beautiful spot and knowing I would start tomorrow on fresh new treads.

Day 121

The first test for me and my new trail shoes came quickly this morning, as I made my way through a narrow passage of rock known as Lemon Squeezer. Actually, it wasn’t a tough challenge for my feet but did, for the first time, require me to remove my backpack and carry it over my head to get through it.

I set my sights on Lake Tiorati Beach which, according to my guidebook, would offer free showers, restrooms, vending machines, and swimming. At mile 1388.8 I took a side trail and arrived at the beach. Dozens of families were lined up grilling and having picnics, although there would be no magical offers of a burger for the passing Sir Fob. Job 1 was to hang up my wet tent to let it dry in the sun. I then showered, hand-washed a few of the nastier clothes, re-charged my phone, and consumed three ice creams and two sodas from the vending machine. The only downside to the pretty beach and picnic area was the incredibly loud noise caused by the large groups of motorcyclists who came storming by every ten minutes. After a nice two hour break, I headed back up to the trail and continued hiking.

Later in the day, at mile 1395.4, I made the mistake of not stopping to get water at a brook. I still had a little under a liter and figured there would be more ahead. That was dumb, because when it comes to water on the AT, you don’t assume or hope…you check and calculate. While climbing West Mountain, considered the toughest climb in New York, I stopped and talked to three southbound day hikers. They were Jewish and asked if I was also Jewish on account of my beard. Little did they realize this was a huge compliment for a guy whose goal of growing a respectable, visible beard ranks just below summiting Katahdin.

My climb up West Mountain was rewarded with a great view of the Hudson River in the valley below and the New York City skyline far off on the horizon. I needed water but noticed that it was a .6 mile blue blazed trail to the shelter and even further to water. Altogether that would be about 1.6 non-AT miles round trip and I wasn’t feeling that so I hiked on. My next opportunity for water was vending machine bottled water at the top of Bear Mountain, about 4 miles away. It was 6:30 p.m., I was tired, almost out of water, and now had to descend and then climb a mountain to buy water and find a place to camp before dark. Doable, but not ideal, it was the kind of stress I like to avoid whenever possible.

I made the climb up the widely popular Bear Mountain and spent $10 on PowerAde and bottled water at the vending machine. I instantly chugged two of the bottles, as the sun started to set. There was a beautiful view from the summit and a deer stood nearby watching me breathe heavily, drink, and belch. I’m sure she also was impressed with my new trail shoes. I quickly found a stealth camping spot near the summit, set up my tent, and hung my bear bag.

My new trail shoes had survived their first 15.3 mile day on the AT and three Jews had complimented me on my beard. What more can you ask for? Well…As I prepared to enter my tent, a couple of Hispanic teenagers at the rocky lookout above me shouted something in Spanish (something about Vamos a destruir Fob) and began shooting off fireworks. Great stuff, amigos!  In fact, I hadn’t seen fireworks like that since my time at the bed and breakfast in Pennsylvania.

Fob

“These vagabond shoes, they are longing to stray, right through the very heart of it, New York, New York.” – Frank Sinatra

“Reject your sense of injury and the injury itself disappears.” – Marcus Aurelius

Day 118

I crawled out of my tent and the donkeys were gone. My guess is that some of the other hikers butchered and ate them. I broke camp and headed north. Two miles into the hike I took a side trail .7 miles west to the town of Unionville. I’ve read and heard that New York and New Jersey have periodic AT road crossings with delis nearby and that the sandwiches are wonderful. I went to the End of the Line Grocery to find out for myself. I threw down a delicious egg, ham, and cheese sandwich along with coffee, orange juice, and chocolate milk. I also did some basic re-supply of food. Out on the front porch I met Big Al who lives in an apartment with his wife above the store. He asked lots of questions about my journey and told me that he and his wife were about to move “up north” to start a farm. He was super friendly and I hope his new farming venture works out for them.

At mile 1347.3 the trail turns east for a flat, open, 1.2 mile walk along the Wallkill Reserve. I appreciated the flat part, but hiking 1.2 miles in direct sunlight in the middle of summer with a 30+ pound backpack felt like about three miles. Thankfully, the trail turns back into the shade of the woods. Just a few minutes later, I stopped with a hiker named Journeyman for some Trail Magic! Some good soul left a cooler of cold sodas, jugs of water, and several cartons of raspberries.

Later in the day I enjoyed the nearly mile long walk on a boardwalk over a massive swamp. Although I was once again exposed to direct sunlight, sometimes it’s nice to get a break from the long green tunnel.

Late in the afternoon I made the somewhat challenging climb up the “stairway to heaven” to the summit of Wawayanda Mountain. At mile 1358.1 I looked up and 15 yards ahead was a large black bear foraging for berries along the trail! It was the largest black bear I’ve ever seen in the wild. Although New Jersey has the highest population of black bears per square mile of any state, it is always surprising, unexpected, and tense when you encounter one. I stopped, reached for my phone, and took two steps backward to position myself behind a tree. On the second step, the bear looked up, saw me, and took off into the woods at full speed. It was obvious that Fob was the new mayor of Wayawanda Mountain.

I went another .4 miles and, after a 15.8 mile day, found a nice stealth camping spot by a footbridge and stream. I dipped my sweaty clothes, and then self, into a pool in the stream. After eating supper I went to hang my bear bag which seemed like a smart move given my recent encounter. Hanging a bear bag involves putting a rock in a small duffel bag and attaching a fifty foot piece of parachute cord to it by a carabiner. You then throw the rock-filled bag over a branch at least twelve to fifteen feet in the air and about six feet from the trunk. The branch needs to be big enough to support the weight of your food but not big enough for a bear to crawl out on. Using the branch as a pulley, you replace the rock back with your food bag and pull on the loose end of the rope to suspend your bag in the air by the branch.

I’ve gotten pretty good at hanging bags but tonight was a big fail. For the first time on my journey, the rock bag didn’t clear the branch and got stuck in it. I mean really stuck. It was almost dark, I had just seen a bear, and I was holding an eight pound bag of food. This was not good…not good at all. I tugged and tugged at different angles but the bag remain lodged. I decided to give one final tug with both hands and all the strength I could muster. As I yanked on it, I heard a snap and the rock bag came flying at me at warp speed! Before I could even say Wayawanda, the rock struck me violently in the stomach. It hurt so bad that I went to one knee, certain it had done some damage. Fortunately it struck the softest, fleshiest part of my body (with my buttocks a close second), and would just leave a painful bruise for several days. Had it struck above my neck or below my waist, it could have been lights out for my thru-hike attempt.

Tired and bruised, I crawled into my tent. Before dozing off, I called my wife to check on her. I told her I had survived my encounter with a New Jersey bear, but was less successful in my encounter with a bear bag.

Day 119

This morning featured two unmanned Trail Magic spots…a cooler of warm soda at Barrett Road and several jugs of water at the trail leading to Wayawanda State Park. At mile 1365.4 I crossed a rocky ridge and took a break at the sign showing the border between New Jersey and New York. I posed for a sexy shirtless photo because I knew Janet not only wanted that, but needed that.

The trail in southern New York is very challenging, despite the modest looking elevation profile in the guidebook. The rocks, endless ups and downs, and hot humid weather made the first few days in New York some of the toughest hiking since Virginia. Just after crossing the border I climbed over Prospect Rock, the highest point in New York. Atop the rock someone had raised an American flag and I stopped to salute it. Despite all of our nation’s problems, this is still a great country, founded on freedom and God-given inalienable rights. I am still proud to be an American.

Just north of Greenwood Lake, the AT passes near a hot dog stand and Bellvale Farms, reportedly some of the best ice cream in the state. With storm clouds approaching, I went to Hot Dog Plus and ordered the hiker special, two long hot dogs, chips and a soda. It was so good I ordered a second one. As I started into the second plate, heavy rain started to pour. I was sitting under one of those vinyl umbrellas which kept my food and head mostly dry. However, rain hit my neck and back, drenching the back half of me. The owner wisely closed the stand and departed. So there I was…alone, in a downpour, getting drenched, and eating four delicious New York hot dogs. These are the less than glamorous moments that don’t always surface on Instagram. These are also the moments that I’m glad Janet is not out here with me, as she would be miserable and I would hate to see that. Still, it was a scene I will always remember.

With a momentary break in the rain, I walked just up the hill to Bellvale Farms for some ice cream. Several hikers were huddled inside, including Torch, Sunshine, and Moxie. As heavy rain began falling again, I ate a large cookie dough ice cream and talked to young Torch some more about a military career. I asked the lady at the counter if I could charge my phone and she said there was a hiker charging station outside, seemingly oblivious to the fact there was a torrential downpour underway outside. While waiting for the rain to stop, I had second dessert, a large chocolate milkshake. I may have looked like a wet, homeless Amish man, but for the first time in awhile, I was a full one.

Once the rain stopped I hiked north two more miles and tented near Wildcat Shelter, completing a 14.9 mile day. I was glad to see Torch, Wheels, Waterfall, and onesie-wearing Treebeard all staying in or near the shelter. Despite more rain in the forecast, I hung up my wet clothes, hoping to replace some of the sweat with water. It had been an interesting day, and it was good to feel safe, dry, and warm inside my tent.

Fob