Awake, arise, start the jammer engine, drive north on Market street and locate the Post Office building.

After driving to the end of Market Street, I move over one block to High Street and continue to look for the Fire Station, Upon reaching the south end of High Street, I spot the fire station at the corner of High Street and Cumberland Street and stop to take a photo of the red brick building.

Arriving here today and locating this building did more to me, emotionally than any other single person, place or thing on this year′s Journey On, well, at least so far. In fact, the memories resulting from my seeing the Fire Company building once again, are liken to an avalanche of snow off a mountain, most extraordinary.

After leaving the Firehouse, I drive north on High Street to where it ends at Newport Road, turn right and drive across the Juniata River Bridge, a bridge that I had, in 1978, previously walked over.

After crossing the Juniata River Bridge, I turn right and drive onto the Point of Land located at the junction of the Juniata and Susquehanna rivers, which is a remarkable overview of both rivers.

During my last time here, I had walked from the fire station, down High street to Newport Road, then right onto Newport Road, across Juniata River Bridge, right again onto US 22 and across the Clarks Ferry Bridge to the base of Peters Mountain, a distance of about two miles.

That might seem to some to be a long distance to walk, however, the distance from Duncannon, Pennsylvania to Katahdin is about 1050 miles, making the village of Duncannon, Pennsylvania roughly the halfway point between Springer Mountain in Georgia and Katahdin in Maine, the two terminus points of the Appalachian Trail.

Later this same day, I drive through Port Clinton, Pennsylvania and spot an interesting person carrying what looks like backpacking equipment, I call out to him and greet him. During a short conversation, I find out his trail name is hobo, he is from Kentucky, I believe east of Louisville, is section hiking the trail about 30 or 40 miles each time he returns and he works as a Funeral Director. Also, I take the opportunity to show him my book, Journey to Katahdin and he takes a photo of the outside covers telling me that he will go online and check it out.

After leaving Carlisle in the afternoon, and heading to my next stop on this year′s Journey On, I arrive in a town that I previously walked through and spent much time enjoying during the summer of 1978. Arriving in the late afternoon, I only drive briefly through town before returning to the south end where at the Appalachian Trail descents down from the mountain heights above and gains access to town just to the north.

It is where the trail meet this road that I choose to overnight tonight, specifically, the Appalachian Trail trailhead parking lot. I back in to a space directly to where the trail arrives from places south, get out and walk about the area to take some photos.

Awake, arise, dress in my spring blues, step outside and take some photos of the Pine Grove Furnace area, make use of the nearby restroom, then drive out of the parking lot and turn right on Pine Grove Road and immediately come to a sign indicating that the road to Fuller Lake was the next right; memories immediately flash through my thoughts of that day nearly fifty years ago when upon arriving by way of the Appalatchian Trail, I dropped my pack, stripped out of my shoes and shirt and dove right in. Wow, was that a much needed dunk in the water, yes, cold baths were just about the only ones available and this is how I have come to be able to take cold showers to this day.

Today, I drive the short way back to the w-mart where I spend the morning, pounding keys and waiting for the weekend meeting to begin, which since I am attending this meeting using the Zoom app, and I am three time zones east of Oak Harbor, Washington, the meeting for me does not begin here until one in the afternoon. When the meeting is over, I nearly immediately pack out and begin my drive northeast in the Appalachian Mountains. My first stop is at Caledonia State Park where I stop in the park to use the hot shower and initially, I wanted to overnight in the park for one night. However, since the hot shower turned out to be a cold shower, all my plans change completely, and I end up driving through Michaux State Forest instead, and visiting Pine Grove Furnace where I find there is a new Appalachian Trail museum.

Upoon arriving at Pine Grove Furnace, I do a little exploring and find a place for Appalachian Trail Parking, so I register at the office for overnighting here.

Excerpts from pages 195 - 196

Start early this morning and hitch to where the AT crosses state highway 325. The hitch goes extremely well as it is no time before my walk upon the AT south to Duncannon begins. Soon arrive on the top of the mountain and after a short walk, stop at Earl Shaffer lean-to, the first lean-to to come to, for a break because of being footsore from the highway hitch and the rocky climb up. While here read the register which discloses: Ron′s Store –16 miles, Delaware Water Gap –130 miles and most significantly, Katahdin –992 miles.

From inside this small wooden hovel atop this forlorn fog-cloaked mountain, my intense gaze blurs into the distant haze when suddenly out of nowhere, solitude, who for several days has been passing time in quietness, now shatters the silence like a thunderclap in a gloomy storm.

In this new grievance, solitude clamors that out there in the distance, beyond the fog and gloom is the rest of the world and that my existence has been kept on hold day after day while agonizing to achieve this altogether unrealistic journey′s end.

Next, solitude bewails to this transient to bethink back to the long past sign seen in Indian Grave Gap. Yes, he calls to my attention it has been three and a half months since the time when this sign informed me that Katahdin was still 1955 miles further north and that even now there is still almost a thousand miles left before seeing the end to this relentless struggle. Much like in the weeks past when solitude did persistently beseech this jaded footslogger for a rational reason for abiding on this rock strewn path, now, again solitude breaches the silence to ask pointedly why this journey has come to have a mien totally bereft of zeal.

In defense, my feeble reply to solitude is, We should be happy to be alive, why this is a beautiful day and everything necessary for this journey, no, this life, is light enough to carry and right here within my burden. Upon turning to point at the burden, suddenly realize that only my day pack is here. Then in trying to conceal my own uncertainty say to solitude, Why, today is even easier than most because of having stashed my burden at the fire station and having to bear only my day pack!

Besides, did we not only this morning enjoy a chocolate bar? Now as the mist begins to burn off, this grand view of the valley expanse below treats my eyes as well. Enough with you, O, solitude, and these constant arguments with you! The day is very warm and there are a lot of bugs to contend with, so therefore, the time has come to continue upon this path in search of some better companions.