Well, Mark's right ankle doesn't hurt as much now - but the left one hurts quite a bit! But as Mark always says, "Life's funny that way. I just think of all the folks pulling for me, and then the pain just keeps hurting." (He doesn't really say that.)
He left the campground near Lewsiburg on Monday, and headed through Mifflinburg and Hartleton, on his way to the glorious middle-PA mecca of STATE COLLEGE, home of Penn State! Mark was able to get some special hiking socks (to reduce blisters) in a camping goods store in State College (although they only had XL). The clerks all dropped everything and rushed over to help him, as soon as he stepped into the store - one benefit of being a grizzled-looking guy with a big heavy backpack. The guys at the store encouraged Mark to join them at a bar later that night, and he had visions of admiring college kids sitting at his feet, buying him drinks, listening to the tales of his journey, wiping his brow, feeding him grapes, etc., but it wasn't to be. By the time he got to his motel, a mile outside of town, it was really late, and he collapsed in bed, instead of doing any more hiking that day.
Upon leaving State College, he headed towards Black Moshannon State Park, which proved to be very remote, and picturesque.
One gentleman slowed his car down to ask Mark where the heck he was headed, and just laughed when Mark named the park. When Mark finally reached the reservoir in the middle of the park, wherre he was going to camp, he was surprised by a guy who popped out of nowhere, taking "nature pictures." He made Mark a litle nervous, but he eventually left. (Don't worry - the guy doesn't come back and cook Mark and eat him. I'm just trying to put together some sort of story from the brief details he gives me and so I've gotta include everything he gives me.)Getting out of the park proved to be a pretty hard trip - lots of those hills discussed earlier. He made it out, and to Phillipsburg, where he was greeted by a brass band and a crowd, given the key to the city, and offered his pick of any maiden in the town. (Because his last name is Phillips, get it? Actually nothing like that happened in Phillipsburg.) Anyway, he then pushed on to Clearfield, where an old truck full of hunters hooted and hollered at him as they drove by. He said it brought a tear to his eye, as it made him think back being picked on in high school gym class.
FOOD REPORT: While in hunting country, he stopped at some vending machines outside a bar, and the machine stole his money. He decided not to go inside and ask for his money back, due to the large number of hooligans he suspected were inside. One of his main staples has been pita bread, stuffed with cheese and some sort of cross between salami and bologna (apparently available only in PA). He tries to eat an orange a day, to keep away the scurvy, and for vegetables he thought he'd eat a lot of those baby carrots, until he realized that he doesn't like baby carrots. The Burger Kings have become fewer and further between, though he did have some Taco Bell in State College. When he does stop for fast food, he goes for the "healthy stuff."
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