It turns out dogs are not the only animals that are startled by fire works. As we fell asleep last night, I heard what I’m almost positive was a bear running around the woods, desperately searching for a place to escape explosions and bangs. It was sad, but also kind of cute to think about the big fuzzy guy being scared. 

But even with the scared bear running around, I slept decently last night and both dad and I were up and out at a pretty early hour. As we made a plan for the day, we decided on the following. I would meet Dad at a bbq restaurant 13 miles in. To avoid putting too much more stress on his ankles and feet, he would get out at a parking lot 5 miles in and get a cab to meet me there. I would then walk 9 more miles to camp and he would do another 3 to 9. And with that, I zoomed away from the old fart. 

It was warm, but it was a beautiful day. The trees created a good canopy to provide shade without blocking all views. It was, minus the rocks, a lovely day for a walk. 

When I got to where the parking lot was supposed to be, I realized it was actually down a side trail. Given it was unmarked, I thought it was pretty lucky I had even noticed it. So I made a sign on the ground out of sticks. “DAD” it read. And had an arrow pointing in the right direction. I patted myself on the back for my good work and walked on. 

At 7 miles in, I got to the first marked water source on the map. I’m not sure I’ve ever explained this, but the way the water works on the trail is the app tells you where rivers, streams and springs are. Then you can fill up your bottle with fresh water, filter it with an adaptor that connects to your bottle and voila – clean water. 

The way it works in New Jersey, however, is different. You still find a water source in the app and you still dip your water bottle into the stream or river but when you pull it out, you notice that the water is brown and smells funny. Now New Jerseyans will says that’s just tannins and it’s not bad for you. But they’re lying. They have to be. Brown water = bad water. That’s just science. 

Today when I got to the river, I took one look at the brown, frothy water and decided I’d rather go thirsty. I’d load up on water at the Bbq joint, I told myself, and let the poop looking water be. 

The day was pretty rocky and I was thinking that, once again, dad had made the right call skipping it. My left arch was not happy as I walked down toward town. But that’s when I saw the text from Dad. Apparently he had made it to the parking lot. But there were no cars to give him a ride or cell service to call for one. He had tried to walk down the parking lot road to see where it headed but the answer seemed to be “away from civilization.” He had no choice but to walk back to the trail and make his way to town.

So after a 5 mile unecessary loop, he was now back on trail – 8 miles away from the next town. His 5 mile day had just turned into an 18 mile day. Sorry dad! We agreed a hotel in town was probably going to be the best move for him.  

As I careened from rock to rock on my way down into town, I started to notice the smell in the air. Eminating up from the valley below were the smell of smoked meats. There was another restaurant in town I had considered heading for, but with their olfactory marketing, the bbq place had won me over. 

The brisket sandwich tasted as good as it smelled and the Gatorade and Snapple both tasted better than that Jersey poop water ever could have. 

As I demolished my sandwich, I chatted with another guy in there. A vacationer dressed in cotton clothes and sneakers. “I could never do that,” he told me with a bit of a scoff. “I live in New York City. We’re different there.” When I told him where I lived he blushed a bit and VERY quickly changed the subject. 

After a quick (and subpar) resupply, I was back on trail. As usual, out of town was a climb. But this climb ended in the best way possible. Dale – a local trail angel – was up there with his kids. “Want a cold soda?” He asked. And pulled a ginger ale from a cooler. After we chatted for a bit he said they were leaving soon so I might as well take the last soda too. And the ice from the cooler. I shoved the ice in my hat and the soda in my bag and thanked him profusely. It was a much appreciated surprised and I enjoyed chatting with him. “Make sure you go right ahead,” he called out as I walked away. “It looks like the trail goes straight down. Don’t go that way, you’ll just be backtracking straight up hill!” Good advice! 

The day seemed to grow hotter and by the end of it all, I was tired. I was ready to be at the shelter when, with less than a mile to go, I caught up to a guy in front of me. He was (to borrow a phrase from the book I was listening to) “moving slower than cold molasses.”  In this situation, everyone lets the faster hiker pass them and then continues walking. But not this guy. Even when I asked him to pass, he said ok but never left the trail or stopped walking. It was bizarre. So eventually I just walked through the brush to get around him. 

I was less than thrilled then when he walked into the shelter soon after me. I was then discusted as I watched him crack raw eggs into a jar he was carrying, shake it up and drink them like he was rocky. Then he started preaching the health benefits of raw eggs and how cooking anything made it unhealthy. 

As he was professing the benefits of raw eggs, shamwow interrupted with what we were all thinking. “Yeah. But have you thought about that fact that raw eggs are like… gross?”

As raw egg man started to talk about how bread was bad for you and only raw greens are worth eating before a marathon, I made up my mind that I  didn’t need to hang around too much longer tonight. I’m in my hammock now while the sun is still up for the first time in a long time and boy does it feel good. 

Key stats:

Miles: 22

Elevation gained: 3100 ft

Mile marker: 1335

Raw eggs I ate: none