Date: Fri, 21 Jul 2000
Subject: AT Update 7/21

A Big "Yo" to all of Trudge's Trailblazers,

I'm in the town of Dalton, Mass.  Tomorrow I'll hike about 17 miles and hopefully spend the night at Bascom Lodge atop Mt. Greylock.  It will be my first time above 3000 feet since I was down South.  Hopefully this will lift me up above the mosquitoes.

Locals have said that the excessive rains this year have made this the worst year for bugs that they've seen.  I recently passed through an area called the Sheffield Swamp, or alternately, the "Mosquito Hell".  I wonder how many extra calories I burned with my free hand constantly flailing to swat the bugs away.

On the bright side, this has apparently been one of the coolest Julys on record, so I have been blessed with many days when hiking was pleasant rather than steamy.

You're probably more interested in tales from the Trail, but I feel more like talking about Trail Angels I've encountered recently.  Last Saturday it rained from the moment I started hiking in the morning, and for the rest of the day.  I had made a careless mistake the night before and left an inch of my plastic ground cloth exposed in front of the edge of my tent's rainfly, so the rain that fell that night was channeled into a puddle underneath my tent and things that should have been kept dry, weren't.  I also found out that my boots, (L.L. Bean Cresta Hikers - size 14) which have served me well for over 1400 miles, are no longer waterproof.  It may just be that so much water was running down my legs and under my gaiters, that my boots just eventually filled up.  Anyways, by the time I reached Falls Village, CT around lunchtime, I was looking to find a room for the night to dry out.  My guidebook had the name of a woman, Maria McCabe, in the next town North, Salisbury, about 8 more miles away.  She apparently offered rooms in her home to hikers.  With a dry bed as my destination, I swam my way Northward.  Maria turned out to be a real pistol.  Her neighbors think she is crazy for allowing strangers into her house, but she always does what she wants and she is truely generous to a fault.  For $30 I had a bedroom to myself, a hot shower, and the use of her living room (cable TV) and kitchen.  It was still raining hard that evening, so she offered to drive another hiker and I to the White Hart Pub where we could get some dinner.  The next day she shuttled us to Lakeville so we could do our laundry.  She made us blueberry pancakes that morning for breakfast.  She turned what could have been one of my most miserable days on the Trail to one of my fondest memories.

On a smaller scale, yesterday I came to a road crossing and followed the directions a tenth of a mile to a woman's house where she allows hikers to use her spigot to get water.  When she is home she brings out cookies for them to munch on.  You probably get so used to turning a handle and having fresh, drinkable water pour out, you don't realize what blessing and a necessity it is.

Today I came into Dalton.  The cheapest place to stay on a weekend night charges $75, too much for my budget.  But a gentleman named Tom Lavardi allows hikers to get water, and to sleep on his porch or tent in his yard.  He brought us out some bowls of ice cream when he got home from work.  I asked, and he said he had been doing this for 17 years.

The local laundromat in Dalton will give you a washcloth and towel and let you clean up in their restroom.  Just because they know hikers need it.

I have heard a few hikers tell of being turned away from restaurants or lodging, but there are so many people out here who are willing to lend a hand to help you on your way, it restores your faith in humanity.  (Something I think I badly needed.)

Once again, I think my time is about up.  I hope that you find bits of "trail magic" as you walk through your daily lives, and also find the opportunity to offer it.  (I especially like chocolate - hint, hint.)