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July 17, 1983 Sunday (984.8 mtg) From Gonzo!s Appalachian Trail journal This morning I started off early to get the majority of hiking in before it got too hot. I took a slight roadwalk which used to be the old A.T. in an attempt to avoid some rocks and brambles. Either the lack of rough terrain was too unusual, or the toll of the last few days had caught up with me finally, as I walked my knee began to hurt a bit. I stopped at Neys Shelter for a short break after a little over ten miles and drank most of my water figuring I could pick some up at the spring in about two miles. I was totally wrong about that assumption. The spring was dry when I got there, and must have been dry for a while by the looks of it. Beginning to feel parched, I cruised on and began the steep descent off of Blue Mountain down to Port Clinton, Pennsylvania, a thousand foot elevation change. And what a downhill it was! I thought I had knee pain earlier! I really began to feel the pain along the descent. Immediately upon reaching the river, I took off my pack and dove in. Oh boy was it hot! Not the river of course, it felt real nice. After cooling off with a swim, I crossed the Little Schuylkill River and found a nice park owned by the United Church of Christ adjacent to the trail, dropped my pack and began to relax. There were some older folks camping in the area and I struck up a conversation with them which ended up with an invitation to a meal of hot dogs, macaroni salad, and corn on the cob. What a treat! The Joan and Mel Engle were their names, and I eventually just called them mom and dad - they treated us just like family. Joan and Mel lived in Hamburg, PA. The rest of the hikers finally arrived and the Engle's loaded us all up and drove everyone to the IGA in Hamburg. Later in the afternoon a nice thundershower rolled through, but we remained dry in the open air pavilion even though the wind was wipping through the area and blowing the rain into the structure. My left knee, which just started hurting a little this morning, really started to hurt on that last downhill to Port Clinton, I guess I better let up a bit.
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