It's been THREE YEARS since Roberta, Kraiger, and I climbed Mt. Tammany at the Delaware Water Gap. Which is dreadful. We really need to get outside more often.
Yesterday morning, we headed out west again, this time crossing the river and going into Pennsylvania. We parked at a lot at a trailhead and headed up the Appalachian Trail to the top of Mt. Minsi.
The previous night skies had been filled with thunderstorms so we brought spare shoes and left them in Roberta's car. Full of eggs and toast from the diner in the actual town of Delaware Water Gap, we headed up the 1,060-foot mountain.
The steady hum of Interstate 80 accompanied up all the way to the top, but the autumn leaves were just turning. The view of Mt. Tammany and the gap itself was stunning. The walk itself was mostly easy enough that Roberta suggested we walk the New Jersey section of the Appalachian Trail next year. But the last 20 minutes or so got rocky, slippery, and difficult. I think I bruised both my big toes in my barely used hiking shoes. I think 72 miles of walking along NJ's Kittatinny Ridge while carrying a 40-pound pack would just about kill me. I'm probably more qualified to walk the West Virginia section, which is four miles long.
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Listening to Randy Pausch's "The Last Lecture" on CD on a long ride yesterday, I was inspired to think about what my childhood dreams were, which of them I've achieved & which of the rest I still might have a shot at. (Or, at least, have a shot at learning something new from trying & failing, as Pausch recommends.)
Through-hiking the Appalachian Trail, or at least a large hunk of it, was indeed a childhood dream of mine.
Decades ago, Lar & I back-packed the AT through CT & VT, but didn't make it to Maine. Plus, we did much of the AT through Shenandoah National Park. I just decided that is going to count as doing enough of a hunk of it that I don't have to do any more.
I'm going to stick to the shorter hikes which involve fabulous views (like Marie's great photo) without any backpacking.
Hey, our time here is short -- Days & weeks spent toiling up mountains in rain & mosquitos doesn't sound like such a great idea anymore.
Maine sounds like the hardest part. Imagine hiking for months and then thinking "Now for the hard part" when you crossed the state line into Maine.
You didn't *really* mean 400 pounds, did you? Guessing there's an extra 0 there. Unless you've been lifting a LOT of weights.
Oops. I took it out.
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