"La plupart de grandes epopees humaines ont eu lieu d'est en ouest. De tout temps, l'homme a suivi la course du soleil, s'interrogeant sur le lieu ou s'abimait la boule de feu. Ulysse, Cristophe Colomb, Attila...tous ont cru qu'a l'oeust etait la solution. Partir vers l'oeust, c'est vouloir connaitre le futur.
Cependant, si certains se sont demande "ou" il allait, d'autres ont voulu "d'ou" il venait. Aller vers l'est, c'est vouloir connaitre les origines du soleil mais aussi ses siennes propres. Marco Polo, Napoleon, Bilbo le Hobbit (un des heros du Seigneur des Anneuax de Tolkein) sont des personnages de l'Est. Ils ont cru que s'il y avait quelque chose a decouvrir, c'etait la-bas, loin derriere, ou tout commence y compris les journees. Dans la symbolique des aventuriers, il reste encore deux directions. En voici la signification. Allers vers le nord, c'est chercher des obstacles pour mesurer sa propre force. Aller vers le sud, c'est rechercher le repos et l'apaisement." - Bernard Werber...

Maybe that's true! For my non-francophone readers, the gist of this paragraph is that the direction one travels in is indicative of many things; those going West look towards the future, wanting to know where the sun goes; those going East are interested in origins - "from where" the sun came from. Those going North (like Gonzo), are looking for obstacles to measure their own strength, and those going South look for rest. One thing is for sure: I will definitely be looking for rest when I turn around and go home.

Extra (you should see him giving you a weird face in one of those pics) describes thru-hiking as "a weird combination of being on vacation, being homeless, and being a performance athlete." That is a good way putting it.

I've realized that whenever I write on this blog, it's always when I'm in a good mood. I have usually already eaten. And I'll usually always be sitting in an upholstered chair in an air conditioned library. I need to describe my bad days.

There was a section there as soon as I got into New York state where I was a-hurtin'. Mentally, physically. You'd think by now I'd be cruisin' on into New England, lightly bouncing off the billion-year-old glacial boulders on my way to Maine. Not really. I'm about 730 miles from Katahdin, which is about walking from Springer Mountain to Waynesboro, Virginia. It's still a long ways. That dawned on me recently, along with the bugs. I'm at the section of the trail that winds its way along the lowest points - "high" is 1200 feet. I think the lowest point was somewhere in New York at less than 200 feet above sea level. So, combine low elevation with heat and humidity and you get: BUGS. Ones that bite. All night long. Mosquitoes that whine in your ears; bites that actually wake you up while you're sleeping.

Because I had it in my head that sleeping under a tarp made the most sense in the weight-comfort equation, I have never sealed off from the outside world. So I'd be: hungry and tired, get to wherever I'd want to sleep for the night, try cooking a quick dinner because the bugs would start biting, and then go the usual routine of wearing my long nylon pants tucked into cotton socks and a long-sleeved shirt and rubbing insect lotion onto my face, wrists, and hands, then trying to sleep. Then the mosquitoes started biting through my shirt and pants. The last time that happened was in Washington State. I didn't think bugs out East would bite through my clothes. They do. I would get not just frustrated, but rightly pissed off. So with very little sleep I'd start the next day, where the temperature from the night before didn't really ever drop below much of what it was during the day. I'd also be hungry and thinking of how far I still have to walk and how I'm getting low on money and how I'm still just as confused about anything and everything as I was when I started walking the trail. "I'm hungry! I'm low on money! Bugs bite me all night! New York isn't as flat as I thought it was! I still have over 700 miles to walk!! I got some kind of rash! And I STILL don't know what I'm gonna do with myself, damn it!!"

There was relief! You see that guy sitting on the bridge over the Hudson River? His name is Wolf. He's actually a drill sergeant in "real life" and is perhaps one of the nicest, most mellow guys I've ever met. He's thru-hiked the A.T. 3 times, and the P.C.T. 3 times as well. He's getting shipped off to Iraq this year. Wolf gave me some pointers about how to convert my tarp into an enclosed tent-like structure...it was like so simple, so beautifully simple, and what such sweet sweet sweet relief. Amazing. Simply amazing. The little things you see. So thanks to Wolf, I have now learned how to better use what I already have - the big key to successfully hiking long distances....It was really awesome, honestly, sleeping with no bugs biting me. I can't describe my elation enough. I would hear the mosquitoes outside, whining, trying to get in, and I'd smile at myself, and think, "Haha bitches! Not tonight!"

I've also come across some fantastic lakes there....swim naked people.

What else....those bears were NOT seen in the wild: the trail actually goes through a zoo! And there's a typical rash brought on by rubbing, heat, and sweat.

Oh yeah, I had a delightful encounter with seterotypical New Yorker attitude. While at a deli near Pawling, the ATM machine gave me only $20 instead of the $80 I asked for, then went out-of-service. I told the pimply tennager the ATM machine was out-of-order and I got short-changed $60. "Uhh, you gotta go tell him" he lazily said, pointing to an obese guy behind a desk. "OK," I said.

"Excuse me, your ATM machine just went out-of-service, and I didn't get all the money I asked for."

"It'll be alright, it won't short-change ya, don't worry about it." And with that he turned his head back to whatever he was doing.

"Uhhhhh...are you sure? I'm on the trail and I just wanna make sure...."

"Listen buddy!! I told ya already!! You ain't gonna lose ya money, aight?!"

"OK, I'm not trying to be hostile, alright? I just wanna make sure..."

"And I told ya!! I ain't lyin' to ya! It didn't...." At this point I turned my back on him and walked away as he was talking to me. I called the 800 number on the ATM machine and verified through customer service that indeed, I didn't lose my money. Geez. I went over to Bulldog, this great guy originally from Puerto Rico, maybe in his mid-40s, and told him about it. He said that with people like that, the one thing they do respect is attitude dished right back out at them. Had I cut him off and said "Listen, I'm a paying customer and I don't wanna lose my money to your broken ATM machine," he would have be defused from the beginning. I told him in the South we treat strangers, and especially customers, with more respect. "Yeah well, up North, when you're a stranger, you're just that, you're strange."

Otherwise, I'm 40 miles from Massachusetts. And I'm about to meet Alex! Hope everyone is well.