We finished CT, chilling on the border with Harvest and Scout while observing a rushing torrent of water that marked the divide between CT and MA. After that it was time to push on into the cloudy with intermitent weather rain. After a solid day of hiking I was greated with the famed monkey call from Machete at a shelter that was around 12 miles past the one I started the day at. A great reunion this was. All need be done was to wait for George to catch up. Plans were instantly in the brew to a possible hike into town for some drinks for the night to celebrate our long awaited reunion. Upon coming to the road which seemed to be the route and an internet call to Karl back home we believed the route and distance was in had. An hour later it became apparent that during this miscommunication I had botched the direction on the road and we were much further away from when we started. With everyone short on the situation we turned around, tails tucked between our legs, and walked back on the road. Blue and yellow blazing can work, but the trail is the tried and true, you know where it is going. Then the worst thing that could happen did. Pemmy, with her notorious ankle, stepped on a bad patch of road and yes rolled it once again. So much for our hiker reunion. Thumbing up for whatever cars we got a ride up to the trailhead where we decided to make camp and see what the morning was like. Morning comes, ankle still raped so the plan to head to town that night, was transfered to this day to see what kind of healing could be done. Picking up some hitches we landed at a hotel in Great Barrington, MA. This became home for 3 days as Pemmy healed, we drank, and watched the olympics. This, rather somber time in Great Barrington, would be the end of the hike. Enthusiasm dwindled, attitudes changed, bank accounts checked, it was decided that the time had come to go our way. Quite a moment of melancholly.

The rambling was not done though. A ride up to the next trail town was in order. A look at the hostel, a little Tropic Thunder at the theater, a farewell to our compatriot Mosey, and one last feel of hikerdom. JJ headed into the hospital the following day, getting an x-ray for his stress fracture and some crutches. Now what… to New York of course. Pemmy was the closest since all we had was Athens and Patch and myself had never been. Free place to stay on long island, why not right. Just gotta figure out how to get there. Trains were kind of expensive unless we could get further south. Well after two hitches we ended up back in Great Barrington, trust me there was plenty of joking about going back and watching more olympics.

After a relativly effortless 20min of waiting a nice Mexican dude in a suburban pulled over. He didn’t speak English very well and I don’t think of the four of us, we knew any foreign languages but we found he was going to Queens. So he did just that and gave us a four hour hitch into Queens, the heart of it all. It was quite shocking and lucky. We didn’t communicate much, just sat back and listened to his funky techno music. So he drops us off in Queens and Pemmy takes over on the transit, we hop a train and make it into Bluepoint Long Island a bit after midnight greeted by her father.

The following days were a mix of hanging in Long Island, hanging out in Manhattan, and just relaxing at Pemmy’s. George was off to Baltimore to see Bob after a couple days. I headed up to Vermont on Amtrak after a week or so, and JJ stayed with Pemmy on their own adventure. We had all gone our seperate ways not to reunite for a while in Athens.

Even Mosey came for Halloween.

That was the end of the trail for myself at the momment. I’ve got 1200 miles on my belt, Patch has like 1600, Pemmy and JJ headed back out this year, finishing the skipped VA leg and then heading onto Northern VT but then got off due to impending lifes challenges.

Conclusion: The Applachian Trail is amazing. I will be out there again one day. Don’t regret a thing about doing it. Support anyone in wanting to do it. Willing to share anything I know and give any advice I can. GAME 08/?? Much love for the AT.

After our errands in Harpers Ferry Patchfoot and Slap Happy hiked out to the first shelter which was seven miles in. Pemmy and Machete were quickly sidetracked by smoothies and the Shenandoah River, both very refreshing on this scorching summer afternoon. Two days later they would catch up, hiking twelve miles the first day, and an easy seven miles before 11:00 A.M the next. Patchfoot and Slap Happy were getting a late start as they had partied with some rabbits the night before. All together now, team Firestarters and the Bearwatchers were off to a shelter fourteen miles from the bunny campsite. This made a twenty one mile day for Machete and Pemmy. With little more than some sore feet they held their heads high knowing they could still make the long hauls.

It was now time to re-supply so we hiked to the Pennsylvania/Maryland state boundary located at the Pen Mar County Park. From here we hitched into Rouzerville, PA and stuffed our faces at an all you can eat Chinese buffet, satisfying our re-found hiker hungers. With our bellies and food bags full we located Blondie’s Outback. Little did we know that it was karaoke night and that the Ice Cream Trucks would have a surprise performance. Slap Happy broke the ice with Wild Wild West by Will Smith. This impressive display of teleprompter reading got the whole gang up on stage later that night. Closing another bar the bar tender, Crystal, gave us a lift back to Pen Mar where we crashed. With a wedding being set up and several family outings, the park was quite  busy in the morning. Seeing us tired and hungry hikers one family gave us a tray of danishes, our best yogi yet.

Hiking out a whopping three miles, Slap Happy and Patchfoot were craving some Magic the Gathering playing cards. We hitched back into Rouzerville for them to get their fix and for Machete and Pemmy to wash their filthy clothes. Cleanly clothed and enjoying dorkdom we were back to the wilderness for the night. We found a campsite near a spring inhabited by an abundance of abnormally large insects. That night we learned of a pool at the next park on the trail and set our sights on hoofing it fifteen miles there the next day. Unfortunately, the weather did not agree with our plans and we were soaked that afternoon by a thunderstorm. Arriving in a torrential downpour the pool was obviously closed. Luck would have it we walked into the most generous trail magic thus far. A group called ATM (Appalachian Trail Ministry) from Indianapolis, lead by Cook Dr., took us under their wing, and tarps, for the night. These generous people had been doing trail magic here [end excerpt]

So Honkey and Donkey (Machete and Pemmy) met back up with us when Johnny was coming to hike. So we all set out from PA Rt. 501 with a 2 day hike to Port Clinton. That night we did a short hike since we left at 5 but had a full day of 18 miles planned for the following. We had a typical special occasion fire and stayed up late chatting the night away. The next day we found a pond that was only a tenth of a mile down the trail and killed much time there. Then kept hiking. It turned out Pemmy was not fully healed so JJ and Pemmy hitched back and got Johnny’s truck saving him from that complication the next day. Patch, Johnny and I hiked into Port Clinton and met back up with our fallen comrades. We set up for the night behind a railroad station on the bank of a river ready for another good night of chatting. Around 1am however it became apparent that it was going to rain cats and dogs and since Johnny was only 90 minutes from his apartment and had to make the drive anyway he just took off then.

Port Clinton was an odd little trail town. The resteraunts were kind of fancy for hiker fare and there wasn’t even a market or gas station. Despite the majority of the town being not hiker compatible the outfitter and the church were quite the opposite. The church provides their own pavilion as a sort of safe haven for hikers. Essentially a very large shelter with potable water, privy, and hiker box. This was very cool on their part as we heard the rest of the town was not hiker friendly.

The outfitter, Ye Olde Backpacker, met and exceeded our expectations. George purchased a new backpack there as his 2002 technology was just not cutting it. They were very hands on and knowledgeable. I however did not spend a cent and was given free things. I asked about purchasing a buckle for my pack that had broken and they gave that to me, then later when I asked to fill my water bladder they noticed I had tape on it and inquired whether it had a hole. I said yes and hey took it in the back and brought me a brand new one. Product warranties when you don’t even know you have them is AWESOME.

The next day was Sunday and since George needed the P.O. to mail his old pack home we took the day off and meandered about. The highlight of the day was seeing Wall-E at a very cool 1920’s single screen theater in the neighboring town. The owner of the theater even gave us a ride back to the pavilion for the night. When we made it back it, quite the storm of hikers had blown in. The night was spent there and the next day was back to hiking.

The next 80 miles of trail marker the highly concentrated and rough section that gives Pennsylvania the stigma of being the rocky state. The craziest part was the climb out of Leihigh Gap. It was a two mile climb up boulders and 3 more miles of what looked like was once a vast river atop the mountain. The climb was slow and long and from the appearance of the trail we nicknamed it the “apocalypse trail.” It was later learned that this damage was due a booming zinc smelting industry in prior years.

Delaware Water Gap, marking the end of Penn., was my next stop. A hard 4 day - 84 mile push from Port Clinton was rewarded by the highly anticipated hiker feed that awaited. George, Mosey, and myself rolled in about 10min after it had began and basically found ourselves in heaven. This was the reason of our big push and felt almost ceremonial upon our arrival. To make this an even better stop, the church also operated a donation based hostel that was quite acomidating. Oh, and this day got even better. As I mentioned briefly in the last post there was live Jazz to be held. Next door to the hostel was the Deer Head Inn, the self proclaimed longest running Jazz Club in the nation. The music was great. In fact I can’t even describe just how good it was.

New Jersey was next in our path. Not the longest state, and not knowing much about Jersey other than the negative stigma I wasn’t expecting much. I would have to say that I was pleasantly surprised. The trail took us through the Delaware Water Gap Recreational Park which was just gorgeous. Dotted with lakes formed by the glaciers that carved the Appalachian Mountains and full of wild life this was an impressive next leg of the journey. What we found most astonishing is how we could really feel a change in terrain by just crossing the border. Four days of hiking in Jersey brought us to the Mayor’s.

The Mayor’s as we refer to it is quite simply the most amazing feat of giving one’s home and self to others that I hav ever seen. The quaint town of Unionville, NY (pop. 550) lay border to the trail in New Jersey. After hearing all the scuttlebutt from South Bound hikers we knew that investigation was due here. The story went that the Mayor of this town, Unionville, hosted a free hostel, with free meals, free beer, free showers, and free laundry. This sounded too good to be true to a wary traveler like myself but in fact it was. The Mayor of this town had turned his own home into a veritable oasis for hikers and asked for nothing in return. His only condition to staying in his home was to view a 15 minute video that was required for all guests. Curiosity of what kind of video would it be swelled me head… religious - political - pornographic… only time would tell.

After dinner all the new guests took their seats in the living room. The video was cued. To our amazement it was a short piece on “Britain’s Got Talent,” the show that our American Idol is based upon. The story centered around the contestant Paul Potts, a mobile phone salesman. He always found comfort in singing and decided that maybe other people would enjoy his as well. Sweating bullets he took the stage. To the astonishment of the audience, the judges, and the viewers in the Mayor’s room he performed an operatic score with the precision that not many are afforded to hear. His lack of confidence was not warranted, this man had talent. He performed two more times on subsequent shows and eventually won the entire contest. The Mayor’s point behind this viewing is that we all have dreams. All of us in the room at the moment was to walk the whole bloody Appalachian Trail. He wanted us that we can win at whatever we want to accomplish and to have the confidence and gusto to attack it will all we’ve got. Thank you Mayor. Your point was taken.

We slack packed the next day south back to the Mayor’s and spent another night.

Library is closing now. So I’ve got to go. Will catch up more next time I get a chance.

Harper’s Ferry, WV marked mile 1009 of the A.T. from the starting point of Springer Mt. GA. I now sit in Kent, CT as I said which is mile marker 1453. That is just shy of 450 miles. I chewed up and regurgitated the states of West Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania,  New Jersey, and New York since the time of the last post. Connecticut marks the 5th state from the end with just Mass, Vermont, New Hampshire and Maine to go. CT and Mass are both short states and we plan to be in VT by next friday (9 days or s0).

WV was really short 7 miles or so. Maryland was full of interesting civil war facts. As you hike the trail you came up on historic battlefields and towns where there were placards and such. It was also a short state less than 40 miles. Maryland did however boast the only free and public shower directly on the trail. A shower is always nice, free showers are better.

Pennsylvania has much more of a story to tell about it. The previous 2 states and 4 days of hiking were woodsy and pretty but Penn is where the fun really began again. Crossing into Penn at PenMar park we found our selves ready for a resupply so into Waynesboro, PA for the day. Newly rekindled hiker hunger was met with a furry from hands down the best Chinese buffet I have ever seen. After shopping it was of course time to try and find a beer. After learning that in PA one cannot purchase a beer, or a 6 pack that one must buy an entire case (this makes no sense to me) we decided to just head to a bar. Slow dirty bar lead to the bar on the other side of town where it happened to be karaoke night. Some amount of beer later and 4 songs sung by yours truly with help on 3 by Machete, and one by Patch and Pemmy. We found ourselves getting a 3am ride back to the trail with the bartender, a very sweet lady. Yes our celebration of Patch joining on the trail was complete.

A day or two later we ran into the best trail magic yet to that time. Right before Caledonia state park hikers were greeted with a cooler with drinks and snacks. In addition to that was a map into the state park where showers, dinner, a place to tent and more were proposed. After a rainy and soggy day you’d have to be a fool to turn this down. We made our trek through the park which turned into at least a mile walk and were greated by Cook Doctor and the other 4 members of his ensemble. This group led by Cook Doctor was an outreach program from a church in Indiana believe it or not. Cook was in his 7th year of doing this and it was quite amazing. They rented 3 sites at the park and brought a U-Haul full of food and supplies. We ate and shared stories that night, had breakfast the next day and got to lounge and then Cook slacked packed us 11 miles so we could get some hiking in and come back that night for another amazing dinner. Through in some showers and some good company and this was quite the experience. The following morning Cook drove us to resume the trail to where we had slacked the day prior. This was probably my favorite moment of being with cook. After leaving the park we were stopped by construction. Cook had a serious Jones for Tom Jones so we all decided to crank up the song “It’s Not Unusual” and perform it for the girl holding the stop sign to try and sway her into getting traffic going. Needless to say 8 idiots singing Tom Jones and clapping with vigor got the job done. Back to the trail.

Pine Grove furnace State Park is the half way point on the A.T. Hikers being the idiots they are perform a little ritual at the store there called the half gallon challenge. This entails eating an entire half gallon of ice cream. Yes, ice cream lovers out there it sounds easy on the surface but it is more difficult than one would imagine. I would like to acknowledge myself, Patch, Machete, and Pemmy as all new inductees to the half gallon club. Thank you have have bowed. I finished in an above average time of 24 minutes and proceeded to get up and do cartwheels to prove my superior stomach. Patch and Pemmy took about an hour and half. and Machete surprisingly finished in an hour for not being much of a competitive eater. More trail culture down and more hiking to go.

Pemmy did not feel well the following day so we all followed her to the hospital in Carlisle, PA where so saw a doctor. Patch and I zeroed with her for 2 days and Machete stayed to keep her company and after there third zero they met back up with us in Boiling Springs, PA. Boiling Springs is not a very hiker friendly town so we had our pizza and went to sleep in our woods. The other restaurant there declared that it had a sleeve policy and would not let Machete in so we decided not to patron them. The following day hiking out was gorgeous and easy terrain. Big miles all around. Patch and myself decided to pull short of Duncannon, PA by doing a 23 but Machete and Pemmy being the bolts of lightning that they are decided to pull the 27 and go straight into town. This proved unfortunate as Pemmy hurt herself on the rocks and twisted the ankle she had surgery on in October.

Patch and myself met with our other half in Duncannon the following day at the AMAZING establishment called the Doyle Hotel. Not only is this a cheap ass dirty hotel but it has a bar inside of it. I’m not talking yuppie bar in a Holiday Inn, I’m talking blue collar dive bar. Some how Patch and myself did not get sucked in the hole known as the Doyle and hiked out the next day into some serious rain. Pemmy and Machete had an extended stay and later met us again after Pemmy’s ankle was feeling better.

Alas, I have gone into too much detail about the previous events and have 5 minutes before the library closes. Lets see what I can spew.

I have seen 4 rattlesnakes and 1 copperhead. The first rattlesnake I saw I screamed like a 5 year old girl. The one I saw today I gave the death stare too. I have conquered the snake… almost.

We’ve got a new hiker buddy that we have been traveling with together since Deleware Water Gap. His name is Mosey and just began the trail in Duncannon. He hails from Anvil, PA and is a very cool dude. You should all dream of meeting him one day.

Pennsylvania is a VERY rocky state. It is very hard on the feet and wears your tread out VERY quickly.

One day on the trail I swore it was like the Lord of the Rings. There were streams running bright orange and yellow due to mineral deposits and crazy bridges etc. It was one of those had to be there moments but very cool. My favorite was the orange stream that dyed my shoes.

Our friend Johnny who lives in Philly came and hiked 26 miles with us. He did it like a champ. It was good to get to hang out with him in the woods. Especially at camp the first night and at the rope swing by this sweet green pond in the middle of the woods.

We went to the oldest running Jazz Club in the nation in Deleware Water Gap called the Deer Head Inn and saw 2 nights of AWESOME jazz. There was a Saxaphone camp going on and it was basically open mic. Very cool.

Until we meet again.

The next day we continued our transition back to the trail with an easy 10 mile day to Dick’s Dome Shelter. This odd, pentagon shaped shelter was quite a ways off the trail down a steep hill but was perched next to a picturesque creek that made it all worthwhile. Following our lovely stay at Dick’s and a feast of Golden Cock with taco seasoning, we headed into Middleburg, VA intending to have a 4th of July celebratory beer with fried food (the American thing to do). One beer led to another and we stumbled upon the good company of Mike, a very interesting, kind, and generous traveler. He told us about his trips to Mexico and Greece as well as his wifes return from Israel in two days. We thoroughly enjoyed his company and found ourselves still at the pub as the sun set.

Previous experiences told us that if we stayed at the bar long enough, we would find some place to crash for the night. This was no exception. Following the fireworks display, we headed back to the upstairs of the bar to continue our pool and dart playing. As luck would have it, local nude photographer, Tyler, wandered up and struck up conversation with Pemmy. A few hours later we found ourselves sprawled out (clothed and sleeping) in his basement studio. After a morning of coffee and Guitar Hero, Tyler gave us an educational ride to the nearby train station. It turns out, he spent nine years as a Civil War re-en-actor and knew a great deal about the history of the area.

We were headed to D.C., our great nations capital, and found ourselves in the middle of a huge, rather overwhelming festival. Solace was found in a grassy patch where we sat to regroup while munching on some trail food. With 3 hours to roam the city before we had to catch a train to Philladelphia, PA to go see Johnny, Machete’s “heterosexual life partner”, we checked out the Washington Monument, Lincoln Memorial and the Art Museum of the Americas… fo’ free. On our departure from D.C. we ran into one of our favorite hiker characters, Thor, and his friend who were headed on the same train to Baltimore to visit his sister. It was good to see a familiar dirty face who didn’t judge our smelly hikerness.

Dirty hiker-trash and our nations tribute to patriarchy.

Arriving in Ambler, just outside of Philly, around 10 pm we were tired and starving. Johnny proceeded to serve us course after course of incredibly healthy and delicious treats. We even got to sample some of his soon to be famous, vegan burgers. After mandatory showers, we passed out on various couches and a comfortable floor. The following day Johnny left us to our own devices in town while he went for his morning run. Immediately after, we began our Philly Steak and Cheese taste-a-thon - a must when in the city of Philadelphia. Our bellies full, it was back to Johnny’s where we spent the afternoon playing Rock Band. Our band, The Ice Cream Trucks, is pretty much the most amazing band of all time, no big deal. Following our European tour, we went to the historic Ambler Theater to see Mongol. This glorious day re-sparked Johnny and Machetes flame. Feeling once again like slackers, it was time to get back on the trail but not without making plans for Johnny to visit in a couple of weeks.

One rental car later, we were in Purcelville, VA waiting to meet up with George who was joining us for the duration of our hike. George, trail name, Patchfoot, had hiked half of the trail to Harpers Ferry, WV in 2002. After he visited us at Trail Days and seeing the fun we were having, there was no stopping him from finishing his quest. Three hours after waiting in a grocery store parking lot, we were reunited with our longtime friend and  new  hiking companion. Arriving in Harpers Ferry, apparently after hours, we were forced to travel to Fredrick, MD to find a cheap hotel for the night. We enjoyed seeing our good friend, Adam, who tagged along once again for the ride. We predict that it is only a matter of time until he joins us as well…. muuuhahahahahahah (evil laugh).

The next day Georges father, George Jr., dropped us off in Harpers Ferry where we hiked the half mile to the legendary AT Conservancy. Here we had our photos taken and were assigned our thru-hiker numbers of 580, 581 and 582. Tired of having the heaviest pack, Pemmy sent home an incredible 10.5 lbs of gear. With this loss of pack weight, she is now toting the same as Slap Happy and Machete. Patchfoot, however, is untouchable with his featherlight, 25lb pack…. Grumble, Grumble, Grumble…

Our AT Conservancy mug shots… wouldn’t you lock your car? Survey says yes.

“The return!!!” Patchfoot 2008

One more on the way folks, hopefully sooner than later.

Disaster Relief Part II

Following our wonderful stay with the East Moline Fire Dept. , we were given a tip from the fire chief to head on to Keithsberg, IL where we hoped to do some sandbagging. We really wanted to do some preventative aid. Upon our arrival in Keithsberg we found that the water had already risen throughout the town and there was little to be done. We did, however, meet Homeland Security coordinator, Rich. He was understandably overwhelmed but invited us into the mobile command center where he made some phone calls to find some areas in need of volunteers. We then headed South to the Alton, IL area where flood waters were rising.

On the drive we found many roads closed off or leading directly into flood waters. These obstacles made traveling seem as though we were trapped in a maze. After being ferried across an unexpected river, courtesy of our “Fearless Leader”, Slap Happy, we stumbled upon a convoy of sand filled trucks. Our instincts told us we were headed in the right direction and we followed in hot pursuit leading us to the hamlet of Hamburg, IL. A spray painted sign calling for sandbagging volunteers confirmed our hunch and we quickly sprung into action. After signing in we grabbed our shovel (which has since been lost), and furiously filled as many bags with sand as we could. We were accompanied in our efforts by local community members, military personnel, and “well behaved”, volunteer convicts from the state prison. Around 6:00 P.M., the military personnel and community members disappeared, leaving us alone with the orange, jump-suited convicts. Pemmy, receiving suggestive smiles from the men, was a little unsettled and tried her hardest to focus on the task at hand. An hour or so later, the community members reappeared to resume building the walls.

<–Assembly line of the convicts and local community volunteers building up the sandbag walls.

<–Pop Tart, Machete and Slap Happy’s back in front of the sandbag pile wall.

The locals were curious as to how we ended up in their small town and were surprised to learn of our adventures. The next day, a Washington Post reporter arrived and had been told that we “were the story” and proceeded to interview us. A little while later, the walls were completed and we hopped back in the car to chase the flood waters further south in hopes of doing more preventative work. When we arrived in Alton, IL we realized that we would have to travel much further south in order to get ahead of the rising waters. We decided that rather than traveling too far south, it would be more productive to head back north to help with the cleanup process in the areas where the waters had receded.

Cedar Rapids, IA, being one of the hardest hit, seemed like the most in need of assistance. We headed back up the Missouri side and arrived in Cedar Rapids to find unfathomable devastation. The entire downtown area and the surrounding residential areas had been submerged in 33 ft. of water leaving businesses, homes, hospitals, and even city hall in ruins. Not sure where to begin, we learned of a volunteer organization called Serve the City. They gave us breathing masks and gloves and suggested that we find any areas in need and volunteer independently.

Cedar Rapids neighborhood. Water lines on the homes in the background indicate how high the flood waters rose.

Being that the majority of the city was in need of help, all we had to do was drive around and ask residents if they needed a hand. The first house we arrived at was that of Willy, an elderly landlord cleaning out the home of his father, which he had left to his fathers caretaker. The woman was too distraught to return to the house after the flood leaving Willy 30 days to have the home emptied and ready for demolition. After removing all of the larger appliances, washer, dryer, refrigerator, etc., we went next door to help his neighbor, Mike. Mike’s house, which actually turned out to be his daughter’s house, was in better condition than Willy’s and was not condemned. We helped Mike and his friend, Dave, remove all of the carpeting and take everything out of the basement.

Covered from head to toe in sewage water and mud, we soon realized it was a necessity to find a vacant hotel room in order to shower. This proved to be more difficult than we had originally thought. With 4,000 homes having only limited entry until emptied and reevaluated, the local hotels were all filled with displaced homeowners and families. The only vacancies were at hotels located 40 or more miles outside of the city.

The next day we headed to the local clinic to get precautionary tetanus immunizations which were being done for free for everyone in the area. We then walked across the street to the hospital to donate blood - a first for Machete and Pemmy who handled it like the champs they are. Feeling completely useless following our needle-fest, we found sanctuary at the Marion Public Library. After resting there for several hours we headed to the nearby Wapsipinicon campground for the night. In the morning, Slap Happy was feeling quite ill so we dropped him back off at the Library and drove back into Cedar Rapids to resume cleanup. In a neighborhood near the flooded Mercy Hospital, we started to clean out a basement at the home of Lawrence. Pemmy began feeling lightheaded and weak, which we suspect was from dehydration and lack of blood. She rested in the car while the only remaining two strapping young lads and able-bodied workers of our group, continued until Lawrence’s family showed up to take over. We picked up the other sickly one, and headed to the Super 8 in Anamosa to recover.

<–An ill faced Slap Happy the day after needle-fest.

On the following day we decided to try something new and different by visiting Serve the City. Here, there were chores to be done such as sorting through donated clothing, directing flood victims, and unloading donation trucks. There were many other v0lunteers here and we felt our help was needed more elsewhere. We headed back into the city, passing by one elderly womans house who seemed to be struggling. We stopped and offered her our assistance which she happily accepted. Little did we know what we were getting ourselves into. Maryann, an eighty nine year old woman, had lived there since 1952 and the house was filled with thousands of tiny trinkets that she wanted sorted through. We helped as best we could by removing her demolished fence in the back yard as well as the stove and refrigerator from her kitchen. Beyond this we were somewhat overwhelmed by the magnitude of the sorting chore before us. Luckily a group of volunteers who had gotten word about this “challenge” were happy to help her sort and box the items.

Driving around the city once again, we found the home of Linda, who’s elderly father, Jack, was about to call it a day in his efforts to clean out her basement. We offered our assistance and helped him remove the washer and dryer, and vowed to return the next day to finish the job. We returned to the Wapsipinicon campsite for the night. The next morning, or should we say “our morning” of noon-ish, we arrived back at Linda and Jacks unaware of the task that lay before us. Linda is a lifelong collector and housed all of her items in the basement. Since she is technically not in the flood plane, storing these valuables here was of little concern. Additionally, Linda did not qualify for flood insurance as was the case with the majority of flood victims. Load by load we carried everything up and outside onto the lawn where Linda had the arduous task of sorting through it all. Five hours later, the basement was empty and we were exhausted physically, emotionally and financially. It was time to cleanup and hit the road back toward the trail.

Jack, Linda, Machete, Slap Happy and Pop Tart after 5 hours of clearing her basement.

Byeowa!
Before we returned to the dusty old trail, we decided to drop by Athens, OH to visit the friends and families of the merciless FIFO’s. It was good to see everyone and get Machete and Slap Happy’s winter gear organized for a mail drop with the fall months approaching. We then made our way back to Richmond, VA to pick up our packs and leave our beloved Pop Tart. We love and miss PT, XOXOXO, and hope all is well as he is currently “sail hitching” to the Bahamas. We were dropped off at Front Royal to begin our comfortingly easy re acclimation. After three weeks of not hiking we anticipated the loss of our trail legs, but we kick ass pretty much, and it was no big deal.

“Nothing really bothers me, I don’t judge”

This is the first of three posts updating y’all, stay tuned and don’t miss our other two!!!!!

We left Poptart’s home in Richmond, VA Monday around 1pm and drove straight through to Davenport, IA which was just shy of a 1000mile trip. We arrived just after sun up and were in need of some sleep so we decided to get a cheap motel while we started to get our bearings in the area. We woke up after napping and decided to get on the horn calling around and figuring out where to help where we linked up with the fire chief of East Moline. We met them in a lower area where a levee had broke and flooded the basements and more of an entire neighborhood. We worked that night helping out an older woman then retreated to our motel for our actual night of rest.

We headed back into East Moline today where things were in full swing, more Red Cross volunteers, invididuals, and a baptist church had arrived. We got in a little later after catching up on our missed sleep and headed back down into the shit flooded basements. We helped out a guy named Mike today who was living in the house he grew up in after his mother passed away. Basically, there was 40 years of history in this basement. We pulled out a dresser type thing and he told us it was something he made in shop class in highschool. Mike was in his 60’s by the way. It took around 4 hours to completely clean out his basement including lugging an old fridge and washer up the steep, rickety stairs. We helped Joyce from the day before a little bit more and then headed to the fire station where Rob the chief had invited us to stay.

 This is where I am now where the fire fighters here have been more than accomodating. We are probably going to help out here tomorrow a little bit in the day and then find a more severe and threatening area to head out to. More information when I can provide but as for now everything is good for us, bad for others, but getting better.

If anyone finds it in there heart I compel you to try and donate any money if you can. I have seen on the news that the American Red Cross funds have run out.

Watch out for a girl on an upside down barstool. It’s tricky and quite mesmorizing.