#165 Windsor Furnace Shelter to Allentown Shelter - Day 90: MM1225.9 - MM1142.4
The Mamas and the Papas’ "Dream a Little Dream of Me" is the background music to Sprawl’s late-night pee.
Apr 16, 2023
Bad night’s sleep. Everything annoys me this morning.
It’s amazing how people you meet by chance in a shelter one night can affect your next day.
The heavy rain didn’t drown out Ducky’s ridiculously loud snoring. His attempts to start conversations with me during the night didn’t help much either. Each time he woke me up he was a couple of inches closer. He started out about four feet away and was only a foot away from me this morning.
Today’s plan was to wake up early and hike about twenty-seven miles. I slept late due to all Ducky’s interruptions. The wake-delay and the energy-shortage has nixed that goal. Go with the flow, I’ll end up where I end up.
When leaving the shelter, I nonchalantly say to the other hikers, “See you up trail.” As if to say, “Maybe I will or maybe I won't.”
With some hikers I hope to, with others I don't.
Thick fog engulfs everything. The moisture soaks into anything exposed to it. It isn’t raining, yet we are wet. It isn’t warm enough to sweat, yet we are wet.
The view from Pulpit Rock is spectacular, or so they say. We’ll never know since we’re met with a solid wall of white, so we’ll have to take their word for it.
There are many day-hikers running around up here, ones who hiked up from trails leading up from the valley.
We come across the Lehigh Valley Amateur Astronomical Society, Inc. I didn’t expect to see anything like that today, but then again, I really have no expectations when hiking - I’m content with seeing what I see.
I send a photo to Second Breakfast, Director of Science Experiences at Evansville Museum of Arts, History, and Science, the person I knew who’d appreciate this spot the most.
The few miles of hiking is flat but slow going. We have to be mindful of each step or risk a twisted ankle or a fall.
Copter is three feet behind me. All morning he’s been cursing the rocks, cursing people who call down jackets “puffies,” cursing this, cursing that, mostly cursing things that are of no consequence, things that no one’s brought up yet. He continues his curse-fest all across the top of this mountain. Ducky kept him up most of the night as well. We’re both a tad grumpy.
The Pinnacle is a pyramid shaped pile of rocks. There’s really nothing spectacular about it. I wonder why it’s so popular. I wonder why place a sign way up here beside a pile of rocks…..a pile of rock.
I looked up information on The Pinnacle to help write this segment. Nothing stood out that I could find, other than a few comments on the views. But with the trees all around it I wonder, “What views?”
One article talked of flying dragons, UFO’s hovering, and random hauntings.
So, I too shall take the liberty of creating an unbelievable non-historical backstory:
This is the very spot where legions of demon-cursed rocks funneled up from the depths of Hell to be spread out along the Pennsylvania section of the Appalachian Trail.
Local legend has it that Billford (Stillford) was working his moonshine still in this very spot when the rocks spewed from the ground, thus burying him.
Then something happened the demons did not expect - Billford’s still rose to the top, sprinkling moonshine onto the demons and the rocks as they spewed from the ground onto the trail.
Ironically, this all took place the moment the world’s first A.T. thru-hiker crossed the state line into Pennsylvania’s southern border around nineteen-&-ump-ti-four-doo-doe.
The inebriated demons and their power remain to this day, as evident in every hiker’s disposition since that day - stumbling along Pennsylvania’s moonshine-sprinkled rocks as though in a drunken stupor.
Drunken demons can be heard every fourth full moon chanting
Billford Stillford’s corps still lies still
Below Hell’s rocks upward flowing spill
He lies alone in the dark without his still,
The still’s shine pours down Hell’s rock hill.
- Sprawl
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