July
14, 1983 Thursday (1045.2 mtg) From
Gonzo!s Appalachian Trail journal
Getting
hotter. No need to hurry today with short mileage into Duncannon.
As long as I get there in time for the Post Office. The only reason
to hurry is to get out of the heat. There was only one climb today
and it was 700 feet in about three quarters of a mile up the side
of Cove Mountain before following the crest for about four miles
and then dropping down into the Susquehanna River Valley.
I stopped for a break and to check out Thelma Marks Shelter along
Cove Mountain. It was not a real nice shelter, but adequate. I met
another hiker, Rich (Kozon?) at the shelter. He was waiting there
for his mail to arrive in Duncannon. I suppose that he had run out
of money and therefore could not afford to stay in town until he
got his money in the mail. I had learned my lesson in '81 not to
cut your money supply so close. Carry most of it with you in travelers
checks and everything will be all right.
At
a lookout point along Cove Mountain known as Hawk Rock, I stopped
to drink in the view of the confluence of Sherman Creek and the
Susquehanna River. From the lookout point the trail dropped about
700 feet down to Duncannon situated along the bank of the Susquehanna
River. It was common knowledge to most hikers that the place to
stay in the town was the Doyle Hotel, an old hotel with an old time
atmosphere. You can't beat the price of $7.42 for a small room
with a bed, desk and chair, and access to a community bathroom
where a traveler can take a hot bath in the deep, old, claw foot
bathtub. The place was kind of run down, but interesting. There
were weekly and monthly rates available and there were residents
who had taken advantage of the deal. At certain times, or days,
the bar downstairs offered .25 cent drafts. I believe this is where
I ran into "Fuzzy Jim" before he left Duncannon for the
day. I think I caught him making a post card out of a beer coaster
or something like that, which instilled the idea of making my own
post cards by recycling the packaging materials I would normally
discard from the articles I bought at the grocery store. From then
on I did not buy any "real postcards". Relatives might
get a card made from a Pop-Tart box, Macaroni and Cheese box, or
some other item. I kept one "real" postcard in my pack
to use as a template for size, and to determine where to crop the
packaging material to bring out the art of the product.
I took
the opportunity, while in town, to call home for 8 minutes (cost
- $3.72 ) and began making arrangements for a package to be sent
to Delaware Water Gap, Pennsylvania, which should include a t-shirt,
liner socks, wool socks, film, REI catalogue, and a small piece
of mosquito netting (4x4 inches) to assist in growing alfalfa sprouts.
I had also been asking about non-fat dried milk packets and wanted
some of those as well. (notes
from Mom) For some reason I gave the phone number of the pay
phone at the Doyle Hotel to my Mom (717 834-9914) as shown on her
notes. Perhaps she called me later on for some reason.
I
stopped at the post office. Although I had expected some, there
were no packages for me; however, there were a few letters. Nice
to know someone was thinking of me.
The
local sub shop was where I met the first hiker that had begun his
Appalachian Trail adventure on a date later than May 15, and had
caught up to me. His name was Mark
Dimicelli. He was an interestingly strange kind of guy. He must
have been on a real mission to put the kind of miles on that he
had been doing to catch me.
Back
at the hotel I spent the evening in the community entertainment
room watching reruns of "Leave it to Beaver" and other
shows. (note February 25, 2012: Marcel
Montville contacted me and told me that this is where he and
I and Mark first met. Mark was planning to run in the New York Marathon
that year and had run the marathon in previous years. Marcel told
me that Mark packed an unconcealed sidearm to protect himself from
bears. At Fontana Dam one of the rangers confiscated his sidearm
before he went through the park and returned it to him when he exited.)
Gonzo!
Appalachian Trail Journals ©1983
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