Day 15: Wow!!! Or, how I went from Carlisle to Duncannon in One Day

Summary 

May 10th

US 11 to Duncannon (Doyle Hotel)

NOBO mile # 1147.2

Tolmann’s daily miles: 17.6

Tolmann’s total miles: 123.5

At MathWorks, they have this handy communication shortcut called a BLOT. Yeah, got to love an acronym… it means Bottom Line on Top: cut to the chase, leaving no suspense. Imagine it your favorite author of mystery or thriller fiction did that; “it was the butler in the living room with the rope”.

BLOT: 17.6 miles today!! WOW!

It didn’t start that way, I assure you. As I was working through today’s plans during dinner last night, I was convinced that the 6-ish miles to the first shelter would more than suffice, especially taking my sore feet into account. Maybe, I thought, I’ll go another mile or so to the next campsite.

Woke with a headache this morning, so took some Vitamin I, and took it easy getting ready. With only 6-ish miles to go, I had plenty of time and check-out wasn’t until 11. I packed leisurely, then went down to the breakfast; they had the make-your-own waffles, and bagels and fruit. Somewhat more extensive than the fruit and muffins at Holly Inn, and the Eggo waffles and mini-bagels at Ironmaster’s Hostel. Lot of swirl on the news about Trump firing Comey. I know it’s important (as well as a carnival), but get me back in the woods!!!

I ended up leaving around 9:30, not late, but not early either.

The walk north across the remainder of Cumberland Valley was absolutely lovely. My feet were in remarkable shape, considering how they felt yesterday evening! 

There were a fair number of locals out enjoying the beautiful weather; I met a couple who seemed very excited to meet a thru-hiker. The woman wanted a picture with me, and the guy struggled a bit to get his phone to take the shot. It was very gratifying and a bit funny at the same time.

The trail reached Conodoguinet Creek and passed the ATC Scott Farm Trail Maintenance Center. In that section of the trail there were board walks and bridges like I had never seen, so obviously it was a point of pride to use the local terrain to show off their mad building skillz.

Shortly after the creek, the trail started to climb up out of the valley. It wasn’t long before the switchbacks began carrying me (hah, what a euphemism! Like the trail “carries” anyone!! <snicker>) higher. There was an overlook marked on the guide, and I started to look out for it. I knew I had found it when I saw the trail folks had built a “window seat” in the side of the trail.

 

It was a great viewpoint, and I sat looking out for a while, even went so far to call Debbie so I could talk to her while I looked out… no answer; I left a message… 

 

At this point I knew I was close to the shelter, and I began to get aspirations. Since it was only noontime, I decided I would at least go to the campground beyond the shelter. 

The Darlington Shelter is known to have this incredible privy, called the Taj Mahal. It was easy to see why: it was 3-4 times bigger than a standard privy, with two “thrones” (when would two people willingly sit side-by-side and do their business simultaneously?). It even had a mechanism using a weighted bucket and pulleys that shut the door. One used such a facility with a hushed kind of reverence…

While eating I looked at my guidebook, refactoring the early arrival at the shelter and my miraculous sense of comfort. I also checked out the shelter register and found an entry from Meeko stating her intention to get to Duncannon. So I looked at my options: short goal, campsite 1-2 miles on; medium/long goal, Cove Mountain Shelter 6 miles on; “really stretching it” stretch goal, Duncannon 9-10 miles on. Oh, and by the way, the guide says that the “trail (is) very rocky … to PA 274” starting in another 4.5 miles. 

I’ll see how I feel at the campsite, says I. 

Well I didn’t even SEE that campsite, so “just keep swimming”…

Then it happened. I passed someone coming south, who asked some questions about the trail to the shelter. Then he said, “there’s a sign up ahead, says sodas and water just off trail in a parking lot.” My fantasies explode! Trail magic! My first trail magic!!!!

I thought I had been doing a fair pace at that point, but as the trail came out of the woods and up across a field, I felt the afterburners kick in. I came to a road; no sign… 

But… but… SODA! Cold soda! 

Oh, well. Maybe they shut down for the day. Before, I wasn’t even thinking… about… soda…….

I trudged through the next field, through some woods out into another field, and… wait… is that… a SIGN?! 

Yesyesyesyesyesyes!

Oh, it was a very nice coke. That’s why I liked it. Because it was very nice. Thanks to Mike and Wendi Burton for the water refill and the Coke! You are trail angels!! 

Just after the TRAIL MAGIC, the path ran along a stream and came to a couple of really nice campsites. It was probably 3-ish at that point, a respectable time to set up camp, but it was only a couple of hours until I reached Cove Mountain Shelter, assuming the “very rocky” trail didn’t slow me to a stop. 

“Just keep swimming!”

Then the trail took a turn for the up; a sustained climb for the next 15 minutes. It really took it out of me. A guy walking passed me on the way; after he went by he started to run on up. I was not charitable to him, in my mind and heart. “Just. Keep. $:&@/:$. Swimming.”

At the top I stopped for a snack and water, and felt some sprinkles. It didn’t last, but reminded me how unprotected I am. 

And this is where the rocks started.

A little further up the trail there was an overlook afforded by the clear cutting necessary for a pipeline. It was a very nice view, but the corridor was visible down into the valley and beyond. 

So the next stretch was kind of like dancing, and not entirely unlike some of the terrain at home, so I actually made great time heading toward the shelter. The one grievance I had was that my left trekking pole would lever into a crack or catch on a rock and throw my rhythm off every once in a while. And so I reached the shelter turn off at 4:30, about a half hour before my expected ETA. 

And everyone knows what happened next. Sure you do. I started with a BLOT.

The climb down to Duncannon was really, really tough, but it started with the most breathtaking overlook on the hike to-date: a place called Hawk Rock. There was a young local couple sitting there when I arrived; they told me it was the local hang out. You could see the creek and the town and the Susquehanna River all laid out below, and out across the surrounding hills. Magnificent!

The view from Hawk Rock

But the trail drops hard over stone steps and scree, and just when you think your nearing the bottom, those fun-loving elf-like impsters of trail designers send you back up a grueling stretch and give you more steps down, just to make sure all your toenails turn purple by the morning. 

And then there I was, walking the streets of Duncannon, looking for the infamous Doyle Hotel (look it up, I’m getting really tired).

  A shot down into the stairwell of the Doyle from the 4th floor. What this place must have been like when it was new!

I went in to enquire after a bed, and there was a Tilly and Sycamore, dining and drinking with some local friends. Then in came Meeko from putting in a load of wash down the street. I showered, then joined them for dinner. There at the bar was Steve, a gentleman I met at the Teahorse Hostel in Harper’s Ferry the night before I started. The couple visiting with Tilly and Hops picked up my tab, trail angels that they are! Very cool. Very cool, indeed!

 

Now that I’m ahead of the game (or maybe where I would have been had I not had the shin splints), I’m not quite sure what my plans are. But if my feet hold out, I think my legs are starting to work. Tomorrow’s trail takes us up a wicked ascent from the river. I may not be able to keep up with this little band of gypsies, but such is the way of the trail…