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July
28, 1983 Thursday (812.4 mtg) From
Gonzo!s Appalachian Trail journal
Last
night we all decided that a breakfast time commencing at 7:30 am
would work for everyone, giving us all enough time to get where
we were headed that day. I strategically changed seats for breakfast,
which included cheese scrambled eggs, sausage, and tea. I had planned
on only traveling 13 miles to Little Dam Lake, where I intended
to set up camp along the shore somewhere. Breakfast took much longer
than expected so we got a late start, but with the little mileage
that I needed to do, we just lazed along the rest of the morning
and stopped for numerous breaks. The trail seemed to have a lot
of little ups and downs over exposed rock projections. The Eastern
Pinnacles, and Cat Rocks, both of which were 15 - 20 foot climbs
(part of the up and down area) provided good views over the Greenwood
Lake Valley. Everyone was in need of water by the time we reached
Little Dam Lake, and since I don't drink out of anything other than
a spring that I feel comfortable with, we all moved on to the Old
Orange Turnpike where there was good piped spring just down the
road a half mile - but it was worth it. While at the spring, a guy
offered to take me, Tim, Marcel, Paul, and John to Monroe, NY where
there was a Pizza Hut located. I had no idea how far off the trail
we were going, but we all had a craving for pizza so we piled in
and off we went. It seemed like we went over ten miles or more just
to get to the town, and I began to wonder how we would ever get
back. But our first order of business was eating. I had the salad
bar and ordered a medium pan pizza for myself. The others did pretty
much the same. I ate two large helpings of salad, and all but two
slices of the pizza. After everyone was finished I suggested that
we go over to the nearby gas station and see what kind of ride we
could find. I figured we could talk someone into a ride easier than
flagging a moving vehicle down. We begged a ride from a lady and
her daughter in a pickup truck with a camper shell, and she agreed
to give us a ride. She got directions from the attendant at the
station; however, they were not entirely correct. We started off
in the right direction, but soon missed a turnoff. We were now on
our way somewhere else. Tim, sitting up front, tried to tell her
where to go, but she did not take his advice until we knocked on
the window from inside the camper and indicated to turn around.
We turned around and headed back. Evening began to arrive and the
sky became darker. All of a sudden we noticed a police car behind
us and the lights began to flash. We all thought that we were violating
some law by being in the back of the truck, but after stopping,
found out that her license plate was unable to be seen. The plate
had previously fallen off and been placed in the back window of
the shell, but had fallen half way down obscuring the majority of
the letters. What a relief! No ticket or anything. We continued
toward the trail. I was really surprised at how well the lady took
the additional stress that we had imposed upon her. Back at the
spring where she dropped us off, she even offered us a cup of goat's
milk yogurt that she had made. I was willing to try something new
although the others did not seem too interested. We thanked her
for the ride and the yogurt and began the ascent of Arden Mountain
as dusk snuffed out the light of day. Marcel and Paul chose to stay
somewhere by the spring, but the real men went for the night ascent.
The last section to the summit was possible only with flashlights,
and as soon as we hit a high point near the summit, we picked out
the flattest ground around to lay our sleeping bags down. There
were rocks projecting everywhere, and the only spots we found were
just big enough to lay on and nothing else. I found a depression
on a flat rock that looked inviting only with the help of my two
inch thick pad. Good thing we did not have to set up our tents,
there was just not enough flat area. Luckily there was no rain this
evening. I had enough water, I had carried over one gallon of water
from the spring where we had been dropped off. A good adventure
today, but scary thinking that we might have to hike all the way
back to the trail from Pizza Hut.
Gonzo!
Appalachian Trail Journals ©1983
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