Day 82: (Sept 20) 4.4 mi

Up early for our flight from Bangor Maine  back to New York for the SOBO part of our Appalachian Trail thru-hike, we make our way to the ticket booth to drop our bags. Our packs are stuffed, each into a giant blue IKEA bag that we’ve been carrying since we started, for this very reason. Just as I am about to load my bag onto the scale, the bottom of the IKEA bag gives out. Now if we hadn’t of had to wait in an unusually long que, and our flight wasn’t to board in 30 minutes,  and we have yet to go through screening, this wouldn’t have been that stressful. Copious amounts of duct tape would have been applied, and all would be good. Problem. Not enough tape left on our trekking poles, and the airline attendant couldn’t find their tape. We hurriedly applied what tape we had, hoping it would hold and left our bags to be loaded onto the conveyor belt to our plane. 20 minutes to board. The security screening line seemed simple and short enough until it wasn’t.  The lady in front of me apparently hadn’t flown in a while and certainly wasn’t keen on what one could and couldn’t carry on board,  let alone wear through screening. Arguments ensued, all the while my simple tray of acceptable items sat stagnant on the belt. “Oh, please pull her aside and move her stuff,” I chanted internally, while Paul looked at me like what’s the problem and taped his watch. 10 minutes till boarding. TSA removed her belongings from the belt to the “uh oh” table where they go through your bag(s) with a fine tooth comb, questioning everything. This sends the poor, confused woman into a tizzy. I watch as the TSA guy is quite condescending.  I want to help, but know better. Finally, another TSA agent who speaks “confused woman” is able to communicate effectively to her. I think she’ll make her flight, minus a few bottles of beauty products.

We now sit calmly and patiently to be called for our boarding number. A gentleman across from us is wearing brand new Altras, and we had seen him earlier loading his pack and trying to tape up his trekking poles for transport. NOBO or SOBO on the AT, we ask. He looks at us, surprised. “I just finished yesterday,” he tells us with a great big smile. How’d you know?, he asks. We tell him we saw him taping up his poles, and the new shoes were a giveaway. We tell him we summited the day before him and are now headed back to Pawling New York to go SOBO  to Springer Mountain. We would have talked longer, but it was time for his flight to board, so he wishes us “safe travels”.

Our flight was uneventful, and we land at La Guardia to a sea of interlocked traffic on the roadways below us. It’s a Friday, of all days, so traffic is especially jammed in all directions. Down to the baggage area and we collect our bags.

Thankfully, my blue IKEA bag is still mostly intact. We unpack the bags. Repack our packs and hoist them onto our backs to head to the Q70 bus to head to the Metro station… like everyone else, it appears. When the Q70 bus arrives, it’s already mostly full. A few people squeeze their way off and even more squeeze their way onto the bus, including us. Packed like sardines, we smile and nod at those looking at us and our packs quizically.

The Metro is no different,  but we know the drill. Soon, we are at the Manhattan REI. As it is not open just yet, we try our hand at resuppling from a CVC next door.

Successful but expensive, we sit outside the REI, break down the packaging, and stuff our food bags. Apparently, this is not an “everyday ” event here in Manhattan,  and we get more than a few “looks.” Apparently,  “Hiker trash” is not well known, even in front of an REI. Strange.

Once the store opens, REI employees allow us to stow our bags inside while we shop. Peakfuel meals, fuel, sleeping bag liner, hat (forgot mine at in Millinocket), water filter replacement, new trekking poles (for Paul), and a new waterproof notepad.

Fully loaded, we head back down to the Metro and to Grand Central Station.  No touristy stops for us. We have a trail to hike! Amazingly, we get a train ticket that is to leave for Pawling with 20 minutes to burn. Finally, we get to eat something other than a Biscoff cookie and bitter airplane coffee. Luckily, the food court is just before our platform, and the lines are short. Food in hand, we board our train and settle in for Pawling.

Once we arrive at Pawling, we’re not really sure what we should do. Do we hike out? Do we eat and then hike out? Do we grab something and hike out with it? Do we even have enough to get to our next resupply? It’s been a whirlwind of the past few days, and frankly, I’m still a bit tired from that 11-hour workout the other day. And, not to mention, it is much warmer here than in Maine. After looking at FarOut and the topography,  we  feel comfortable with our current resupply, as it appears that we will be able to essentially “deli blaze” (duck into town or ontrail eateries fairly frequently. Thus, we decide to grab a burrito to go and hitch back to the trailhead to do as many miles as we feel so inclined. It is 3 pm. We’ve been up since 4 am. Once on trail, we hike till 6 pm after finding an exceptionally flat spot to pitch our tent. Satisfied, we eat our burrito and nod off to sleep.

We’re true SOBOS now.