Project Eveningland

5/28/2023 Sunday

Bit of a rough morning. I’m definitely “hung over” from hiking a long day yesterday. But oh the town of Harpers Ferry in the light.

A part of me has always dreamed of living in a tiny little building tucked into huge rocks on an impossibly steep incline. Built of thin local rock. There should be all manner of nooks and crannies. I want slope-walled attics and hidden courtyards and walls so thick that the windowsills all double as benches. Oh and I want some abolitionist history on the side of freedom, light, and justice.

I ordered a bagel breakfast sandwich across the street. The street is incredibly narrow and begins right as you step off the front stoop—no sidewalk. The bakery & coffee shop was hopping. When did children become so loud and ill-behaved? Someone needs to lower their protein intake to cut some of that noise down. We would have never!

As I waited for my sandwich (excellent but sausage could have been cooked longer), I took in the town in the light. The neatness of the masonry work contrasts with the irregular shapes of the rock. I admire the seeming permanence of it. And how much more powerful that act—building walls of stone—would have seemed at the time. Still seems now! Hybrid cars roll quietly down the hill, their internal combustion engines off. They look futuristic.

My resupply package arrived on time! Phew! I’d have been less devil-may-care about the timing if I’d noticed that Memorial Day weekend was imminent. The outfitters here is down an outdoor staircase from where I’m staying. The proprietor went to their PO Box this afternoon to check again and there it was. I looked around while I waited. The outfitter has all this touristy stuff: t-shirts with Harpers Ferry and AT stuff on them. But tucked in between and behind is a meticulous little selection of actual backpacking equipment. The tourists look right past it—I watched.

Had a real weak lunch but followed it with an outstanding $7 dairy-free strawberry cone. What was in it? Who knows! Not gluten, apparently. It was sort of like a soft serve version of a Push-Pop in the strawberry flavor.

Took a long nap on the squeaky bed in the tiny room they found for me. It’s actually just fine—and I’m grateful; everything was booked. I don’t know if I’ll stay tomorrow. It’s a little bit crazy and touristy and expensive.

More adjustments to my approach to make it more humane are imminent. I think. It’s always fiddling about, good backpacking. You don’t find a “right” approach and stick with it; you build a library of approaches and a big toolbox and use them appropriately to meet the situation at hand. Maybe that’s obvious? Wasn’t obvious to me!

I’ve gotten a lot of normal food in me today, including a turkey and bacon sandwich on a soft pillowy sourdough, and that’s been a morale boost. Oh, shit, I almost forgot: this is the “psychological halfway point,” according to AT lore.