Penn's Woods

A few days ago I spent the night at the William Penn Shelter. My time there gave me pause to think about my last few days walking through William's (former) woods, and what a time it has been.

There are a few things that should not go unsaid. Tera was with me for many of my Pennsylvania days, and that made everything brighter. In fact, it was in PA where we were able to revisit Pole Steeple, where I proposed, almost six years earlier. In addition, after a mid-morning snack in Pen Mar Park, we crossed the railroad tracks that marked the PA-MD state line, and that meant we were treading on familiar turf. In a sentiment echoed throughout my Virginia miles, growing up in PA left me eager to reach this familiar ground. It felt good to be "home."

Pennsylvania also pulled back the curtain on a variety of edible plants that, if not abundantly available, were just on the cusp. That meant afternoon snacking on blueberries, blackberries, teaberries, mulberries, and rather tasteless wild strawberries. There were also a number of unveiled wildflowers, a selection of which included indian pipe, bird's foot trefoil, everlasting pea, moth mullein, and pasture rose.

That being said, not everything was rosy north of the Mason-Dixon. Water sources were farther apart, necessitating me to carry more on my back at any given time. It was also hot and humid, even downright muggy. The moisture and heat led to an insect population explosion and these bugs quickly made their presence known. There were the small gnats that made it their mission to float around in front of my eyes, seemingly desperate for a swim in my occular fluid. Then there were the larger blood-drawing gnats that hovered by my ears, content to let their buzzing slowly drive me insane. And of course there were the flies - horse flies in particular - who aggressively dive bombed my head and face; they were easy enough to swat, but that only amplified their aggression until things quickly escalated into a match of kill or be forever dive-bombed. Need I mention the no-see-ums and mosquitoes?

Alongside these swarming annoyances were the spiders and worms. The orb-weaver spiders love to spin their webs across the trail, often right at eye level. As such it was a common occurance for me to peel back these sticky filaments from my face, hands and arms. The worms presented a similar hazard as they dropped from tree limbs dangling from their woven spindles, hanging in the direct path of oncoming hikers. Yes, each suspended worm meant another sticky face-full.

Aside from the insect life, there were the rocks. Not only were there were lots of them, but they were packaged in a variety of arrangements. Most commonly there were the rocks casually strewn about the trail. While these weren't particularly troubling, they would still catch hikers unaware. If they found someone walking while paying more attention to the gnats, mosquitoes, webs, and flowers than to watching where he or she was stepping, the rocks would quickly conspire to trip up the distracted walker. Even a mildly rocky trail demands a hiker's focused attention.

From there you graduate to the "riverbed rocks." Here, the trail resembles a dried up riverbed, with various sized rocks scattered about, and the walking is both painful and precarious. Painful because these rocks love to dig deeply into the ball of your foot as you step; precarious because these rocks are prone to shift and roll underneath a foot placement, putting an ankle through its paces. Once a hiker stumbles, the recovery may not be very pretty.

From there the rocks grow dramatically in size and scale. Whether scree fields or massive boulders sunk deep into the heart of a mountain, new challenges are presented. For example, there were two "rock mazes" that sent hikers scrambling up, down, over and around ridge-line rock formations. Or, coming up from the Lehigh river out of Palmerton, a hiker has to navigate a steep scree field that requires two fourth-class climbs. That means both one's feet and hands are needed, making the risk of a fall increase dramatically.

So, Pennsylvania has been rocky and buggy, but it has also been enjoyable. As I sit here in the Delaware Water Gap I will be saying farewell to this state tomorrow, and will press on. But I will press on knowing this: I have LESS than 900 miles to go, and triple digits sound pretty good. In fact, I first reached triple digits during my stay at the William Penn Shelter, which let me sleep on 999.8 miles to Katahdin.