Project Eveningland

5/3/2023 Wednesday

I got 6.5 hours. As far as I’m concerned, that’s a trophy-level amount of sleep in a packed hostel. There were some violently blue blueberry pancakes in the morning. Folks were eager to head out.

I took a nap and resupplied at the tiny local grocer. The owner, who was sternly fixing this and that, lit up with delight when I praised his selection of hiker foods. He told me all about how he “hacked” an outdoor resupply company’s selection to meet hiker needs. Such strategy and diligence! I asked if they had a public restroom, knowing the answer was probably no, but secretly hoping he might let me use the employee bathroom since he’d taken such delight in my compliment. No such generosity occurred to him.

I had a cheesesteak sandwich at the restaurant before shopping. The restaurant has a whole little area for hikers, with shelves full of to-go containers and other hiker needs. They know that the people sitting in that area will all pay separately. Other hiker-friendly policies were in evidence. I was touched by the thoughtfulness of it. It also further crystallizes my strategy for making friends when I don’t know anyone: look for the detail-oriented, conscientious types. I connect with them easily. I wouldn’t want to marry one, but they are my people.

Benny isn’t detail-oriented. But he always, always remembers to leave a tip for the housecleaner. He forgets other things sometimes. But never that.

Today I socialized with a hiker named Dr. Pepper, who just sold his furniture store and whose folksy demeanor only briefly conceals a deep emotional intelligence. Also met Lil Buddha, who’s doing the full Eastern Continental Trail in addition to the AT. He describes himself as “a walker.” They really understood what I was saying about my hikes being medication. It’s evidence-based medicine. I’ve read the research.

Wedge, Chowder and Boxer Mom returned early from their 22 mile slack-pack. They must have flown! Chowder later told me he had set a very fast pace, nearly jogging and hopping from rock to rock. Sounds like hell. When he told me, I declared “that’s excessive.” If I’d been there I’d have shot Chowder with a sedative-laced dart from the blower I keep in my fanny pack for just such occasions. It’s an ultralight dart blower. No feathers or decorations on it, so you don’t have to worry about cultural appropriation. Twenty-two miles in eight hours is too fast! It’s too fast.

Had dinner with them and hit up Dollar General for deodorant, sunglasses, yogurt, and mint-flavored generic tums. There were 80 varieties of assorted fruit flavors, and one measly, dusty bottle of off-brand spearmint. The fruit ones are gross and a sign of moral turpitude.

There was ice cream and brownies later at the hostel. I persuaded my new bunkmates—Chowder (and his dog Peja) and Lil Buddha and two later arrivals—to open windows in our room and get some air circulating. Oh, thank god.

I weighed myself. I am 1-2 lbs heavier than when I started the AT.