I walked a marathon to get an eggplant parmesan (the kids made me do it)

The promised land of delicatessens on fire

Oh my gosh, you’re going to love New York. Everything is delicatessen on fire!

Do not pack any food when leaving Pennsylvania. You’ll be in New York in no time, deli on fire!

New York is famous among AT hikers for the simple fact that you can skip the late-night ramen bomb and eat real food. Because this section is located along an urban corridor, at least once a day the trail will cross a street where delis, ice cream shops, and breakfast sandwich shops are within walking distance. Instead of carrying 3-5 days worth of food, you can travel light. You can eat real food and even prepare a meal for later. What’s not to like?!

It’s not a picnic!

What no one mentioned to me is that the trail in New York is hard. For some reason, I imagined a cruise ship, rolling hills, and a leisurely culinary tour. On the other hand, New York was a challenge. On the second day, I texted my tram from the previous year: «WITH you guys?! New York is killing me.» While Pennsylvania’s sprawling rock fields are long gone (insert applause), you suddenly have huge rock formations to hike or climb. (If you don’t see a fire, just go up the steepest route; they didn’t cut any corners.) There are tons of short, steep, rocky PUDS every day. New York made the Virginia roller coaster section look like a kid’s ride. When I finished this section, two things were clear: I am easily influenced by others and will walk very long distances to eat an ice cream cone or a sandwich.

Map at Appalachian Market where we had a giant breakfast

A short walk turns into a long one

One night I was camping at the Pochuck Shelter in New Jersey, trying to plan the next day’s hike. The town of Warwick was 23 miles away and I was leaning towards walking two shorter days to get there. Warwick is something of an AT mecca: its drive-in theater allows hikers to camp and watch movies every night for a small fee. As I was packing up the next morning, I saw Frisbeer, a 23-year-old hiker I had met at Del Water Gap, leaving her tent. (His luxury item is a Frisbee. Did you know that a Frisbee can hold 4.5 beers?) He was headed to Warwick that day. When I left camp, I wished him well and explained that I was going on a shorter hike. A few kilometers later, Frisbeer caught up with me and we started walking together. Somehow she convinced me to accompany her to Warwick. Fris is a great hiker; She set a quick pace and I bravely followed her. That morning we stopped for coffee and ice cream at Heaven Hill, a garden center/bakery. (I have to lean towards the burning deli!)

Double ice cream day

About 15 miles later, we crossed from New Jersey into New York. It’s always exciting to reach a new state! The transition to New York was notable because we quickly encountered large rock formations, which offered a welcome change of terrain and great views from the top. If we continued at a fast pace, we could reach the Bellvale Dairy before it closed. This local creamery, located 15 minutes from Warwick, serves fresh ice cream. Hadn’t we already eaten ice cream that day? If you’re asking that question, you’re not familiar with the hiker diet, which is basically an inverted food pyramid.

22 miles to bowling alley food

We made it to the dairy and celebrated with more ice cream, but had a hard time getting a ride to Warwick. Typically in trail towns, the locals are used to hikers and will give them a ride into town or back to the trail. The dairy seemed to be full of visitors and tourists, and they were uneasy about our hitchhiking posture at the exit. Many of them looked away as they walked away. I futilely called a minivan: «I have a master’s degree!» After 40 minutes of frustration, a woman in a van rolled down her window. «Where do they have to go?» The Warwick Drive-In! we scream. She rolled her eyes a little. «Come in. I’m going in that direction.»

A chair on the road; I sat there for half an hour.

Drive or bust!

Jenna, our shuttle angel, dropped us off at the drive-in and we set up our tents as it got dark. It felt a little like a high school reunion: we saw hikers we hadn’t seen in several days. There were three movies projected on different screens, but we didn’t care because we were absolutely famished. By then it was 8:30 and the only place open serving food and beer was the bowling alley. We entered the bar area and toasted having arrived in Warwick. I had a cheeseburger that would have been right at home in a school cafeteria. He had walked 22 miles to eat at the bowling alley.

When 18 miles feel like a sprint

A few days later, one afternoon I stopped at the Bear Mountain Inn, a beautiful historic inn, to eat at the Hiker Cafe. (I felt virtuous ordering a salad.) Other hikers soon arrived: Frisbeer, Duck, and Lorax. Staying at the inn was prohibitively expensive, so we crossed the bridge over the windswept Hudson River and made the steep climb up the mountain to the Hemlock Spring campground. The next day’s hike looked manageable on the elevation map. What I didn’t take into account was the ferocious speed of Spreadsheet and Lorax, two hikers in their early 20s. If I had to pick a cross country team, these two guys would be at the top of the list. They didn’t walk but floated over the rocks, chatting happily the entire time. They made it look effortless and I couldn’t keep up with them on long climbs. We arrived at Canopus Beach State Park (which had a cafe serving food!) at 4:30, after walking 18 miles. The group decided to push on to the RPH shelter 5 miles away, but they were done for the day. Fatigue had won; I said goodbye to Frisbeer and the gang and said I hoped to see them again before I got off the trail.

Near Bear Mountain Inn

Coffee Secondary Quest

The birds woke me up at 5 a.m. the next morning at the Raymond Torrey Memorial Shelter, a beautiful new shelter nestled in a meadow. By 6 a.m. I was on the road and heading to the Telephone Pioneer shelter, 21.5 miles away. At 7am I met up with Denver, a hiker I hadn’t seen since I arrived. Denver was still in his store, but planned to walk to Tony’s Deli that day. «You should walk there, Five Lives. A group of us will go. I’ll drag you up the mountain if I have to.» I rolled my eyes and explained that the day before, chasing the youths, I had been wiped out; I wasn’t going to Tony’s house. At 10:30 am I reached a crossroads just as Denver caught up with me. He pointed out that there was a delicatessen just 0.5 away and that I should go with him. (Denver has a charming personality; he could probably convince a dog to abandon a meat truck.) I followed him to the deli, where he bought a gigantic chicken sandwich, a huge bag of chips, and a ginger ale. I settled for a large coffee and a fritter. Frisbeer was already there. «Five Lives! You already went 10 miles this morning! You could make it to Tony’s house.» Denver said it was 12 miles away, but when we returned to the trail, we discovered it was beyond Pawling and the hike would be longer. The side quest for coffee had added a mile and I had joined the kids once again.

We leave the magic of the trail for other hikers.

26 miles for an eggplant parmesan

Fortunately, the walk to Tony’s house was forgiving: hills, meadows, stretches of tall pines, and plank paths. Among the highlights were the largest oak tree on the trail (over 300 years old!) and the Appalachian Trail Railroad stop. We arrived at Tony’s house at night. In total, I walked 26 miles that day. Tony’s was a small roadside deli/convenience store with a grassy camping area. I ordered an eggplant parmesan wrap and bought some banana chips and a beer. The camping area was located between the railway and a busy road. Even with earplugs, it was a loud affair. That night in my tent, I couldn’t help but laugh to myself. He had run a marathon for a sandwich. The kids made me do it.

Tony’s Deli Gang

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