7 hrs, 17 kms
Day Totals: 14 hr, 36 kms

Dusk is approaching as I reach the border of Pennsylvania and Maryland . This isn't even the halfway mark, so it looks like I'm going to be hiking late into the night. I'm not concerned--as long as I've got a trail I can follow I'll be find. And luckily I stuck my bicycle light in my pocket to help me out a bit.

I do pause to chat with a couple of thru-hikers that are doing the hike from Maine to Georgia all in one trip. I know I'm not going to impress them with my little one day hike. So I do have to mention my across-the-Alps hike last summer...

Not that this is a competition or anything....

Here on the border is the village of PenMar. I actually parkbenched this village back in January 2008. Basically I just trudged through the snow to where there's a nice lookout on the Cumberland Valley, took my video clip, sang my five songs and left. I remember looking wistfully at the "Appalachian Trail" sign, but thinking "it'd be impossible to combine playing music and long distance hiking ..."

Well... after doing some 29 Superhike in 17 countries--including an 800 km hike across the Alps last summer, I can honestly look at my guitar and say "we've come a long ways since 2008, baby"

Actually, I've been through 4 guitars since then... but you get the point.

Nearby is a little marker in the middle of the forest that says "You are now walking along an old trolley line, just behind was Jim's popcorn and ice cream stand". It feels kind of weird to realize that this area might actually be less urbanized than it was a hundred years ago!

The Mason Dixon line

The Mason Dixon line, which divide the states of Maryland and Pennsylvania, is much more than just a state boundary. Before the Civil War, this was the dividing line between "Free States" in the North and "Slave States" in the South. In Pennsylvania slavery was prohibited, in Maryland it was allowed .

So the how was it that Maryland ended up being with the North during the Civil War? Well, this is one of the underreported ironic moments of American democracy.

See, Washington DC, is south of Maryland, so if Maryland had sided with the South, Washington would have been trapped in enemy territory, and Lincolnd definitely didn't want that. So when the Maryland congress came together to decide if they wanted to be with the north or south, the pro-slavery congressmen didn't show up... why? Well... they'd been arrested!

Oh, and just as a little extra motivation to vote in the way the federal government wanted, artillery guns were placed on Federal Hill and pointed at Baltimore. Now THAT'S democracy for ya'll!

Now I'm certainly not siding with the South in this epic conflict--the wounds of which still haven't completely healed to this day. .. I'm just pointing out how un-democratic this "Heralder of Democracy" has been from time to time...

Anyways... however it happened, I don't really feel that crossing the Mason-Dixon line constitutes entering the South. Maryland just doesn't feel like a Southern state--as nowadays most of it is just Baltimore-Washington sprawl (it's one of the most crowded states in the US). So I'll save my "Entering the South" moment for when I cross the Virginia border.

Regardless, crossing from state to state here in the US is...kind of... a new discovery. Unlike in much of the world where the national government makes all the rules, here the states do have some autonomy... make their own laws... collect their own taxes. So let's see what'll be my Maryland experience.

For now, nothing changes except that it's getting darker and darker. For the most part I manage to walk without using my bicycle light, using sound to guide me (once I get off the path, the sound of the leaves get crunchier) But their are a lot of rocks and this does seems like a good way to sprain an ankle . It's worth the risk--there's something magical about walking through the forest in pitch darkness.

Finally, I decide to take a rest, sit on a log, and play some music...

Reaching Smithsburg

Finally the trail zigzags down the hill to a road that leads to the town of Smithsburg. A very small town, but cozy, with houses pressed right up against the street, the way things used to be--unlike the houses of nowadays that stand aloof as far from the street as they can. It feels so much more welcoming this way--especially after walking alone in a dark forest for 2 hours.

There's only a pizzeria and a bar open (which strangely only advertises Coca Cola--maybe it's illegal to advertise beer here in Smithsburg...) I relish me reconnection with civilization... reach my car at about 10 pm... drive up to Waynesboro to pick up my bicycle... drive home...

36 kilometers were walked it turns out. Not bad, all things considered.