Our list of amazingly generous personal Trail Angels grew by one as we approached York, PA, and the Cumberland Valley. Francis Velazquez, Manager of Education at York County Department of Parks and Recreation, serves with X on the board of the Association of Nature Center Administrators. He has been excited about our hike since he first heard about it, but his offers of help have become more insistent as we have gotten closer, even more so as today’s predicted high temperature rose to 99°. (Even higher with the heat index.) He has been concerned about the impact of the record heat on the average AT hiker. The upshot is that Francis picked us up off the trail yesterday afternoon (“I live an hour from any place in York!”), brought us to his place for the evening, and had us back at the same spot at 6:00 this morning. After staying on South Mountain ever since the Potomac River, today around Boiling Springs, the AT would be very flat, but very exposed, as it headed north across the Great Valley. Francis provided us with a pair of umbrellas which he said would be invaluable for that part of the trek.

But first we had to get to Boiling Springs. Just as we woke up, a line of thunderstorms lit up the sky to the north, but the rain from these storms was short lived, and mostly served to make the air very humid as we started the day’s walk. Within the first mile we ran into the Charons, breaking camp for a short day going only as far as Boiling Springs. We were so surprised to see them again, that we were slow to wish Manula a Happy Birthday, but we’re glad she had an easy day planned to enjoy it! Happy Birthday, Mary Ann, and we hope the next 62 years are even better than the first!!!

Our AWOL guide showed a short climb to two “rock mazes,” but they proved to be more fun than killer scrambles. We also climbed over Center Point Knob, so named as the AT’s original midpoint. We liked it as a half way marker better than the two such points we passed yesterday. As we started down, a sign informed us we had 17 miles to go across the Cumberland Valley.

At the bottom of the hill we broke into the open, at first skirting a corn field and then making a series of right angle turns as we crossed large sections of agricultural land with hay bales still scattered around. If the key phrase for corn is “knee high by the 4th of July,” it looks like local farmers are in good shape.

The small town of Boiling Springs is even prettier than we expected. The man-made spring-fed lake at its center is crystal clear, and many kids were around, some feeding the ducks with their families, others involved in day camp activities. A large number of thru hikers were lounging on the lawn when we stopped in at the ATC regional office. (A treat was running into Keystone again, the first time we’ve seen him since the Smokys!) The young lady at the desk recommended the Caffe 101 for lunch, and we had a light lunch out of respect for the building heat. The turkey wraps and cold drinks were tasty, and we lingered at a table outside in the shade…

Not half way done with today’s mileage and behind schedule as we left town, we found the trail as advertised – smooth and flat. It was hot, but every time we found ourselves out in the broiling sun, we pulled out our secret weapon umbrellas and became the envy of the local hiking bubble. The fields had more breeze than the woods and our parasols kept us cool: we were “The Bomb”!

Our after-lunch pace was right at three mph, and the distance between the landmark road crossings flew by. For about a mile around US 11, we stayed in lock step with five young machos (Sasquatch, Boomer, Pops, Yukon, & Joe Fore) to form a very impressive train of hikers taking full advantage of a section of trail unlike any we’ve seen since Springer. Most of this group was last seen swimming in Conodoguinet Creek as we pushed on for our last mile of the day. We met One again, just as we reached our stopping point, and told him if he’d wait a few minutes, Francis would have a cold birch beer for him as well, when he arrived to pick us up. Francis pulled in before we had a chance to sit down, and his cooler of splendid cold drinks was much appreciated. One took one more can for the road or in this case the miles to the next shelter, and we headed off for a dip in a stream on the way home. With Francis’s help, what could have been a very rough day had turned out to be one of our more pleasant.