Diablo's Tombstone Campground, NY

On July 10, I made it to the Catskill Mountains in eastern New York, and camped at a place called Diablo's Tombstone. That's a pretty awesome name, eh? I checked in at the campground office, and the park ranger reminded me just a little too much of Jame Gumb. He turned out to be a fairly nice guy, if a little quiet.

This part of New York was extremely wooded, and incredibly humid.

After settling in, I hiked a trail up to a lookout area. The trail was one of those where the rangers must have said, "Screw it, let's just build this thing straight up the hill, switchbacks be damned."

After hiking straight up the hill for an hour, I was covered with sweat and flies. Have I mentioned how much I love humidity? However, the view at the top was magnificent.

After getting back down, I noticed a guy checking out my campsite. His name was Charlie, from New York City, and he wanted to know if I wanted to eat dinner with him. I declined because I was a bit tired, but we talked a bit about camping and getting out of the hustle and the bustle and all that.

The next morning, my neighbors in the campground offered to share breakfast with me. Apparently I must look hungry to these people. This time I agreed, and they made me some coffee, eggs, toast, and bacon. We talked for a while about camping, and jobs, and my trip, and their nephew who plays in a band called Envy on the Coast. After 10 days of near isolation on the road, it was nice to engage in some extended social contact.