Inn at the Long Trail
We came through Pico and into the Inn at the Long Trail for the famous Long Trail Ale. And food. If I timed things right, I could hike on and make Hanover for a mail drop by Friday. But Tupelo, Stumpy and I have a chance to stay the night with Shelterboy's friend in town.
In this bar now, reflecting a bit. I didn't think I'd be this far - through the rain and mud and beers and bugs and smiles from dozens of different faces I've met on trail - so many walks of life.
Anna the barmaid has been sharing stories of her existance; a seven year old daughter from her first marriage. She has a business degree from Newbury College in management. There's a house with her boyfriend in the near future, where the closing is on Labor Day -- just a few weeks away. They have redecorating plans to raze the ceiling to create a cathedral ceiling, repaint the Royal Blue walls something a bit less Royal -- or Blue. He's a musician working on his own L.P. Tup, Anna and I played ton-80 to pass the time for our ride.
In come a couple, getting to know each other slowly; telling tales of a fella from the night before who fell under their table. He was gasping, but said he was OK. Out in the parking lot, he saw them again only to say 'hi', and promptly fell over in the lot in the gravel. He had come in to use the phone due to a flat tire.
People watching leaves as many mysteries as it reveals discoveries. Maybe this hike does the same.