I’m embarrassed to say this is my last entry. I crashed and burned on my first day out. I’m a loser, but the people who rescued me are winners, and here is a copy of my letter to them. They are remarkable people.

To: Delaware Water Gap Fire Department

Borough of Delaware Water Gap

Delaware Water Gap National Recreation Area

Hi to my Trail Angels:

On March 11, 2023 I started a hike on the Appalachian Trail at Delaware Water Gap. Over the years I’ve hiked 1,095 miles on the AT and my plan was to add PA & MD to my log, ending at Harpers Ferry.

About 4 hours into my hike I experienced severe chest pains and unusual fatigue. I took my pack off and tried to get comfortable, but nothing seemed to help. Eventually another hiker came along and noticed my condition. I told him what had happened and he offered to help me walk down the mountain, but I felt too weak to walk even downhill.

Then he offered to call someone. I rejected that, but he called anyway. A true trail angel. I am sorry to say that in my confused state I did not get his name. I would love to know it.

A remarkably short time later I was surrounded by a swarm of people, including, I believe, DWG local firemen, NPS park rangers, maybe others, and a medic who insisted that I be taken to a hospital. They physically carried me down the mountain on a stretcher, no doubt a heart-thumping, back-breaking effort. I couldn’t believe it.

I was strapped in the stretcher and could not reach my phone, consequently I could not record their names. But a few days later, on my way home, I bumped into one of my trail angels in the NYC Port Authority Bus Terminal and learned that he is with the DWG fire department. I’m sorry to say that I forgot his name before I could find something to save it on. (My 84 year-old brain does not remember anything it learned 5 minutes ago. 50 years ago? No problem.)

I hope you will pass this on to everyone. I would love for all of those people to know that I am forever grateful…and impressed with their dedication and physical effort. Because of them, I’m OK today.

Thanks to all,

Marvin Venable

Will I try again? The dream never dies.

Temp. 34 degrees, No wind, Light snow last night but melting away.

For me, the first day of a long distance hike is a stomach-churning event. What did I forget? What did I leave behind? Am I walking in the right direction? Why is this backpack so heavy?

On and on my brain cycles through that kind of stuff. Not unlike an athlete at the kickoff, the tipoff, or other challenging events for which we carefully prepare ourselves, but still have last-minute doubts.

I walked out of the hotel this morning onto a thin, melting snow cover—maybe an inch. The trail is about a half-mile from my hotel. Soon my feet will be walking on dirt. It begins.

I did not plan to write again until I hit the trail, but what do you do when stuck on a train for 27 hours?

I’ve learned some things about rail travel in general and specifically about traveling from Sarasota to NYC by train. First of all, do not do it! FYI there is no Amtrak station in Sarasota, and so they trek you to the Orlando train station by bus. Their bus. And very convenient—I boarded the Amtrak bus 5 minutes from the house and arrived in Orlando with an hour to spare. I will post a photo of the train station and another photo depicting its rich heritage when I learn how to do that.

If you live on Florida‘s west coast, you might be wondering why I did not skip north for 60 miles and catch the train in Tampa. Well, there is an Amtrak station there, but there was no train in Tampa that day. How do I know this? Because our bus stopped at the Tampa Amtrak station and collected more passengers for Orlando. Is this a permanent arrangement, or temporary? I don’t know.

A sad state for Amtrak…and America. When Annice and I lived in Philadelphia, we always took the Metroliner (pre Acela) to NYC and DC.

I fear we will never enjoy a European or Japanese level of train service in the U.S. The freight trains own most of the tracks and the airlines own most of the politicians. Amtrak is like a stepchild begging for leftovers. OK, enough politics. The pit boss will slap me silly if I go on.

Other Amtrak observations: 1) The noticeable range in speed. The Washington to NYC segment was very fast, but the Orlando to DC segment was significantly slower overall and the train went thru many towns that required slowing down even more. 2) The Food car hours of operation were a mystery and my grilled cheese sandwich was spongy and chewy. 3) Restrooms were often, but not always found to be like a gas station restroom.

For a trip that long, the sleeper car is the way to go. Imagine sitting on an airplane for a whole day. I know now that I will never fly non-stop to New Zealand. And so, my Amtrak experience was not for naught. Do you know how much moola Annice and I will save by not flying non-stop to New Zealand?

I was curious to see the new NYC Amtrak home at Moynihan Hall, but when I came up the ramp from the tracks, the spacious room looked familiar. It should have looked familiar, because we debarked in Penn Station. I found an employee and asked where I could retrieve my luggage. She said, “Across the street in Moynihan Hall.” I am not making this up.

I trekked over to Moynihan Hall and I discovered why we landed in Penn Station. Moynihan Hall is too friggin beautiful to muck up with dirty ole trains. It’s like a modern airport, but more open, more spacious. Very nice. I retrieved my luggage and headed to the next connection.

I chose to make this trip by train, because the NYC train station(s) are only 8 short blocks from the NY Port Authority bus station where I caught a commuter bus to Delaware Water Gap and the Appalachian Trail. I checked into a motel to go over my inventory one last time, before I hit the trail.