Passed through Lehigh Gap and over the Palmerton Superfund site by mid-morning. Thanks to an industrial accident a few decades back the water sources here are periodically titrated with zinc, so I was humping three liters of water for the hike today.

Cosmo (left) and Waterproof (right)

There was sun for a bit, then the clouds rolled in and with them a few bite-sized grains of hail. Nothing else of note though. The trail is still seeded with rocks.
Cosmo and I hike quietly. Waterproof walks with us and talks a lot.
He’s an odd guy. After meeting him the night before I’ve learned that he has 4 technical degrees and is master of a variety of different tradecraft, but lives in a hammock and only buys cheap cars that are spitting smoke and have been diagnosed as terminally ill locomotives.
You’d think an electrical engineer who repairs hydroelectric turbines for a living would pay that extra two grand for a vehicle with a reliable engine, but not Waterproof. “Paradox” would be a better trail name.
Seems like he’s spent so much time fixing things that are broken that I guess in a way he’s fallen in love with the flaws themselves. I can respect that. Can’t imagine the kind of patience it must take though to be able to smile when a tire goes flat.
There’s something to be learned from that.
If it’s true that we all want what we don’t have then his obsession makes sense in a way. The mechanic is hard wired to always think about the internal logistics of a thing — cause and effect, if this, then that, lever-pulley relationships — but some part of him I’m sure craves the chaos of when the system collapses. Thus his grin when he hears the rotator belt in his beater go SNAP.
Some people are reassured when things fall apart, whether it’s a car breaking down or a kid’s Lego tower smashing against the ground or the medieval Catholic Church admitting that the Earth isn’t flat. When one thing breaks you’ve got room to make something new.

Creation through destruction. It might be hard to see but they’re one and the same.

Cosmo taking on the Superfund

We’re close to the edge now — Nomad