Connecticut Land of the Super Pretentious

Arriving in Kent, Connecticut everything seemed great, there were even outlets in public areas where a hiker could charge their electronics. A cyclist with a smile on his face, riding a pastel yellow cruiser with a brown basket on the handlebars, pedaled across the bridge to welcome me to Kent. There was even a place offering a free first slice of pizza to AT Thru Hikers. I passed up the pizza as I was on a mission to do laundry, thinking I would stop back for a slice later on that day.

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Well that’s where the friendliness ended. Even the local users of the laundromat seemed pompous. Yes the frequent users of the laundromat were above me, their importance lingering in the air mixed with the aroma of detergent. Should I be so presumptuous as to use the front loading washer like I belong to this aristocracy of local users or take my place with the proletariat of the top load users? I make my mind up as I notice people scrunching up their noses at me and scooting away as I go to redeem my bills for coins and yes to purchase soap from the dispenser at the laundromat. Fuck’em I am using the front loader! Waiting for my laundry, sweating, because I am wearing my rain jacket and pants since all my other laundry is in the FRONT LOADING machine becoming clean, I am approached by a gentleman wondering, “What are all you people doing here?” Is he referring to the hierarchical system I perceive to be in the laundry mat? Doesn’t he not know I declared myself one of his own by my choice of washing machine? “You people?”, I ask in reply. “Yes the dirty ones with the packs on.” Oh those people. Ha, he hasn’t discovered I am of the top load class. How does he not know who we are? The trail goes right through town. “I am assuming the other ones you are referring to are Appalachian Thru Hikers, also.” At that moment I blew my cover by saying Appalachian with a West Virginian sociolect! He knew immediately I did not belong in the front load group. After correcting my pronunciation, he immediately turned on his heels and walked away. I was not in the mood to hangout in town longer, not even for the free pizza!

This was not the same carefree beer drinking Laundry Mat as down south!

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Later after hiking up a steep incline weighed down with my recent resupply and feeling miserable in general, I approach the top greeted by people. I survey the area seeing a bench with an amazing view of the valley below. Spinning back 180 degrees I say hi back to the greeters and head for a picnic table to unshoulder my load feeling better already. As I sit, my pack sliding from my shoulders, I am aware of a sharp pain in my right butt cheek. I stand up thinking I sat on a nail and bam another sharp pain. I had in actuality sat on a yellow jacket. That brief instant of feeling better vanished. I felt defeated and if I wasn’t already 2/3 the way done I probably would have quit right then and there I felt so miserable. A couple, who were doing an overnight hike on the trail came to my aid with sting relief and Benadryl. As I fell asleep in my hammock overlooking the valley below I am reminded of the kindness of strangers and the earlier advice I received to give it a couple days before you quit.

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