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July
30, 1983 Saturday (778.4 mtg) From
Gonzo!s Appalachian Trail journal
Got
up early this morning and headed down, away from the summit to avoid
being caught stealth camping. At the base of the mountain lies Bear
Mountain Lodge. A fancy building that I did not feel comfortable
visiting in my hiker-garb. The lodge was an impressive structure,
and I marveled at the architecture as I passed by. The trail soon
crossed the highway and entered a small zoo. I had arrived too early
and it was not open yet. This is one place on the actual trail that
you cannot walk through whenever you want. I walked the road around
the zoo, and found a sign nearby that reminded me of my hometown:
Highland, IL. I had five miles to hike today to reach Greymore Monastery,
my goal for the day. With that in mind, and the morning just beginning,
I decided to walk down the road to the town of Fort Montgomery to
utilize the post office. I sent a few post cards to various people
including Chuck Winchell, a hiker I had met in 1981, and one to
Grandma and Grandpa Strackeljahn. Outside the post office there
was a fund raiser bake sale. I bought some cookies for the road
and unable to resist them, ate some even before I hit the road back
to the trail.
I crossed the Hudson River on the Bear Mountain Bridge, a toll bridge
that used to cost hikers 10¢ to cross, but this year they had
ceased collecting the fee. The crossing marked the lowest point
along the Appalachian Trail, being 64 feet above sea level. Anthony's
Nose rose abruptly on the opposite side of the river. I followed
the trail up the side of the nose, but chose not to take the side
trail to the tip for some reason. I am sure the view would have
been magnificent. I was too excited about going to the monastery
I suppose, but arrived at NY 9 and the entrance to the facility
by noon. I had to wait until four o'clock before being allowed to
check into a room. I spent two hours in a nearby Bavarian Inn to
take up the time, which seems ridiculous - I could have hiked on
and covered many miles that day. But Greymore Monastery was an institution
on the trail, a "don't miss" kind of place. It was the
place where hikers were welcomed and allowed to spend the night
in a private room, do laundry, shower, have dinner and breakfast,
and not have to spend any money! How could I miss this?
Around two o'clock I walked up to the monastery and chatted with
one of the friars for a while. Just before 4 pm, Tim, John, Marcel,
and Paul arrived. We all selected our rooms and were able to get
cleaned up before the 5:30 meal. Bruce, Terri, and Eric rolled in
just as dinner was being served, and were unable to clean up for
the meal. Every day of the week they have bountiful meals with various
menus of home cooked items. One day of the week they feature cold
cuts. Of course today was the day for cold cuts! I made the best
of it by eating large amounts of the various cold cuts and cheese.
One particular friar seemed to be in charge of the hikers, Father
Boscoe I think was his name. He continued urging us to go back and
have some more food. He did not want us to go hungry. I certainly
was not hungry after all the sandwiches and desserts that I consumed.
I spent the remainder of the evening making phone calls to my parents,
Jim, Glen, and Dave Szabo. Back in my room, I moved my bed closer
to the window, which I opened to allow the breeze to enter and blow
over my body.
Gonzo!
Appalachian Trail Journals ©1983
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