The Doyle Hotel

I stayed at the 100 year old Doyle Hotel last night in Duncannon, PA. A flea bag kind of place. It's more like a hostel these days, which seems to happen when a hotel owner stops giving a shit about it. I wouldn't be surprised if the first hostel got its name when some dispassionate hotel owner misspelled hotel on the sign out front and just said, "Ah screw it. I'm done fixing things here." This seemed to be the case with the forth floor shower where a sign said, "Please make sure the shower curtain is tucked into the shower or water may leak into the third floor shower and knock down ceiling tiles." I took my shower on the fourth floor even though my room was on the third, since water damage there proved not everyone reads signs.

I feel bad saying anything negative about the Doyle, though, because the owners, Pat and Vicky, were great. The kind of people that make this type of travel unique and more memorable. But man, I literally picked a flea off my sleeping bag last night. I have to call it what it is.

The old twenty five dollar a night hotel wasn't without charm. My room sat two floors above a cozy pub on the first floor. I got hungry last night and went downstairs. Pat made me a hot pastrami sandwich on rye and a bowl of delicious clam chowder. Pat is a fantastic cook and pointed out more than once that he had to do all the cooking because his wife, Vicky, couldn't cook worh a shit. A fact she happily agreed with as he smiled and kissed her on the cheek. One thing Vicky is good at though, is making you feel at home. It came naturally with her warm chubby cheeked smile framed by gray pigtails. She served me my food and drinks while we watched a celebrity gossip show on TV and talked about the trail.

When I was ready to head up to bed, she asked if I had everything I needed, gave me a hug, and wished me luck on the rest of my hike. I didn't realize until morning that I did need something, direction on how to exit the building. I went up to my room all day yesterday through a door by the pub that was locked at night from the outside and didn't get unlocked until the pub opens. I walked around for fifteen minutes confused and frustrated until I found a way out. So, if you ever find yourself staying at the Doyle, don't forget to tell Pat and Vicky I said hello, and to exit the building go to the second floor balcony, make two right turns then walk down the outside staircase.

The 501 Shelter

I stopped at the 501 shelter yesterday for water. I saw a menu inside and realized this was one of the few "pizza" shelters that are close enough to civilization for pizza delivery. I met a group of about ten girls out camping for the weekend to celebrate a birthday, so decided to be sociable and order pizza... it's not what you're thinking, they were a group of lesbian women. I planned on leaving after pizza to get to the 1000 mile mark last night, but they provided cans of PBR, then shots of whiskey, so I ended up spending the night. The birthday girl brought her guitar, so we stayed up late chatting and singing Ani Difranco and Indigo Girls songs around a campfire. This morning they made breakfast burritos and french toast. All-in-all, it was worth the stay, that 1000 mile mark isn't going anywhere.

Lehigh Valley Astronomical Park

I so badly want someone to appear and say, "Want to borrow one of our big ass telescopes tonight?" But it's just not happening, so I'm doing the next best thing, setting up camp nearby and just laying on the ground under the stars. That sounds good too. I mean, they don't put astronomical parks in areas that are no good for stargazing.

There is a frost advisory tonight, but then I'm suppose to have good weather for a few days, no rain and highs in the 80s! I'm looking forward to all my things being dry for a while, because to a thru-hiker being dry is often as close as we get to feeling clean.

The View From Dan's Pulpit

Pennsylvania has a bad reputation on the trail, and because of that, I wasn't looking forward to it. It seemed every northbounder we met complained about how it was the worst section of the AT. In fact, I don't think anyone ever complained about any other state at all. It's true that there have been several miles of relatively flat boring rocky trail, but every day you are greeted with unexpected views of rich green farmland like this. Nearly all of the complaints were due to the feet and ankle murdering rock covered trails, but to me these peaceful quiet moments looking out over the farmland make up for the terrain. The trail and views in NY and NJ were often polluted with traffic and airplane noise (and just as often with actual garbage). My foot and ankle may disagree, but I'm happy to have crossed into PA. Maybe I'll change my tune after another 100 miles of stumbling over shards of rock, but for now, I love PA.

Pennsylvania Sunset


I had a goal of making it to a shelter before yesterday's sunset, but had to stop with only 2 miles to go to watch it. I may be on a tight schedule now, but I'll always find the time for this, even if it means hiking more at night.

The ankle is feeling better. It stiffens up quickly when I stop, and if I put weight on it at certain angles pain shoots through it along with the thoughts of not making it to Georgia. Pennsylvania is rough, the rocky terrain is also aggrevating the first injury to my left foot. I hitched into Walnutport, PA and picked up an Ace bandage, which has been an enormous help. I think the drunk zombie-like limp made it harder to get a ride, though. Or I suppose you could make the argument that its harder to hitch when you're no longer hiking with girls. Come to think of it, because of the cooler weather, I was wearing long pants. Hmm, maybe I'll show more leg next time.

Anyway, long story short, I ache constantly, but I'm getting to Georgia, dammit! Even if I'm limping down the trail in snowshoes. This simple life and the surprising beauty around every corner make all the pain and discomfort worth while.

My Home Last Night

After injuring myself, I was only able to make it 5 miles to the Leroy A. Smith Shelter, where I settled in for the night. I slept about 11 hours, waking up frequently due to the cold, but I feel better today. I'm optimistic that this won't end my trip, but we'll see. Palmerton, PA has a free hiker hostel in the old jailhouse and a hospital. I will try to make it there today.

Injury #2

Just pulled a muscle above my right ankle. The Pennsylvania section of the AT is covered in small boulders, so it's extremely hard on the feet and ankles. Not sure what will happen now.

It's swollen and limping on it is even more painful than my last injury. I'm going to hang out here on Hahn's Overlook a little while and see if I can make it to the next shelter 4 miles away. Otherwise, I'm setting up camp here and seeing how it feels in the morning.

Day-Hikers on the Appalachian Trail

I couldn't see anyone, but I knew day-hikers were close. I could smell them.

Alright, let me explain myself. A couple weeks into this Appalachian Trail thru-hike, a pair of day-hikers passed Red and I coming the opposite way. They smelled so clean, like soap and fresh laundry. A minute later, another couple approached us. They were twenty feet away, but I already knew they smelled wonderfully like shampoo and dryer sheets.

The sour look on the woman's face as she passed us confirmed that we did not.

I assumed by being in the woods so long, my senses had heightened. I felt like the boy Ray Charles in the movie Ray when he caught the cricket with only his heightened sense of hearing.

"Man, I can smell their soap from like thirty feet away," I exaggerated to Red, expecting him to be impressed by my new superpower.

"Me too! They smell so good. I think that last woman could smell us too, did you see her face?"

Red's comment forced me back to my previous assumption, which I've held for years, I wasn't special. I simply hadn't been around soap for a while. A long while.

Back to today. I knew day-hikers were near. I could smell soap, but where were they? I hiked further, turned a corner, and there they were. Nearly a football field's distance between us! That was far enough away for me to realize my suspicions were right all along. I am a superhero.

Village Farmer and Bakery

From the outside the most intriguing thing about Village Farmer Bakery in Delaware Water Gap, Pennsylvania, is the large sign depicting a hot dog and slice of apple pie holding hands standing over the words, "True Love!" Holes are cut out at the top of them, so you can stick your face in for a photo op.

When I saw the inside my face lit up like Charlie walking into Willie Wonka's edible Chocolate Room. There are so many delicious things in this building it overwhelms the senses. Well, at least to someone with a thru-hiker appetite.

Thru-hikers talk about food more than anything else. We need 5,000 calories per day, so are always hungry. We describe every food we happen to be craving like we suddenly all work for Bon Appetit Magazine.

Even tiny morsels become important. One day, I saw two M&Ms in the dirt and mumbled something about the damn day-hikers leaving food on the ground.

"How do you know they're from day-hikers?" Red wondered.

"Because a thru-hiker would have picked that back up out of the dirt and eaten it." Hell, I even thought about eating it.

At the beginning of this trip, we all underestimated how much food we would want to eat. In the 100-Mile Wilderness in Maine I was so hungry I licked the insides of the flavor packets from my Ramen Noodles to get every calorie. And I overheard Thumper say to Sixgun, "Are you going to throw away that Cheerios dust?"

"Yeah," she replied. "Do you want it?"

"Uh yeah, that's second breakfast."

So yes, we love food out here. If you're curious, I just bought a Boston Cream Pie (to share with Deuce and Brother), some cookies for my next stretch of trail, and their famous $2.49 combo, a slice of apple pie and a hot dog. Mmm, together at last.

Church of the Mountain

Yesterday afternoon, I crossed over the Delaware River and into Delaware Water Gap, Pennsylvania. I planned to grab some food and get back on the trail, but had my needed miles for the day and couldn't pass up the hospitality of the Church of the Mountain. They keep a room open 24 hours for weary hikers, a warm dry place with couches, bunks, shower, and restroom. The fee is whatever you can afford, $3 recommended. I stayed up late chatting with two other sobos, Deuce and Brother. They are nice and I hope our paths occasionally cross again, but of course nobody could replace Sixgun and Thumper. I talked about them, and all the experiences we had on the trail, so much that Deuce said, "Man, now I'm missing them," even though he never met them.

Anyway, I really like Delaware Water Gap, PA. The food is great and the people very friendly. It's amazing how that changes by simply crossing a river.

More Wildlife

I climbed on top of this mountain that I didn't know the name of. The view was so amazing I thought, okay, so maybe NJ isn't so bad. Just then I nearly stepped on a Timber Rattler. He coiled up and hissed. Not in the mood for pictures at all. In fact he was a bit of a drama queen if you want to know the truth. I looked up the name of the mountain for this blog post. It's Rattlesnake Mountain. I wonder how they come up with these crazy names for things.

A hiker just passed by and I told him to watch out. He told me he just saw two bears. Hmm, maybe no night hiking tonight.