Day 26: A Shortcut is Never a Shortcut

The trail was starting to get the best of the Fool — the monotony of nine days on a canal towpath can get a bit tiresome. "I swear I passed this same rock two days ago," he was heard muttering. But things brightened up when he hit the small blip of a town called Little Orleans, that had, as promised, a small establishment to get food and supplies.

The Fool entered the rickety old building bearing a wooden sign that read, "BILL'S PLACE." Hunters and fisherman gazed upon the strange backpacking newcomer as he entered the dark room. He sat down on a creaky stool at the bar and got himself a hamburger sandwich with a root beer. He spent a good part of his lunch chatting with Bill himself, who was the shop's owner and operator and somewhat of a local celebrity. He's been interviewed by National Geographic Magazine – Twice! Just for being an old guy with the longest running establishment in Little Orleans. Go figure.

About a half hour later, after an inquisitive drunken fisherman in dark green waders started getting a little too much into the Fool's personal space, he figured it was time to depart. He exited Bill's Place and headed down the dirt driveway. However, the drunken fisherman kept following him, still slurring questions like, "Are you going to be camping alone tonight? Where ya gonna be?" followed by defensive, "Not as if I-- I wasn't gonna... I-I wouldn't..." The Fool didn't say anything. He just politely waved goodbye and dashed down the sloping road. Suddenly it dawned upon him that he gave this fishing fella his card earlier... with all his contact info on it. (This was before he got a little too creepy.) This was realized when the Fool bended the corner and he could hear the fisherman say, "I'm gonna EMAIL YOU!"

He has never heard that phrase sound more ominous in his entire life.

After escaping the patrons of Bill's Place, the Fool was soon back on the monotonous canal trail. Still bored with a continuous dirt path, the Fool saw an opportunity to take a shortcut and skip one of the loops of the Potomac River. This would shave several tedious miles from his trip. But when he reached the other side of the loop he came up against a wide and deep canal separating him from the trail. He was forced to shimmy along a marshy embankment at the canal's edge for about a half mile, scale the edge of a rocky cliff, and finally cross the watery canal on a log in order to get back to the towpath/trail. All this took way too long and, in retrospect, would have probably been the same time if he just stuck to the trail.

Next it was on to Paw Paw, WV which he reached through an old 4000-foot tunnel. In Paw Paw he settled down in a newly opened sub shop for a spaghetti dinner. The proprietor was keenly interested in what the Fool thought of his place. The conversation ended with the owner saying "Tell your hiker friends."