Crossed the New River on a big highway bridge, which is a weird feeling after weeks in the woods, trucks going by a few feet away. Did a twenty-mile day on Tuesday, my first one ever! Then did an eight-mile day Wednesday because I could barely walk. Biscuit says that's called balance. Two Socks caught up with us! The family is back together, minus Crayon. — Slowpoke

Best three days of the whole trip, I think. First Dragon's Tooth, which is a big rock spike sticking up on top of a ridge, and you climb down the other side holding onto iron rungs. Then McAfee Knob, which is a big flat ledge of rock that sticks out over the valley like a diving board. Supposedly it's the most photographed spot on the whole trail and I can see why. We got there at sunset and sat out on the edge and ate our dinner, and nobody said anything for about half an hour. Then Tinker Cliffs the next morning. Now we're in Daleville, which is a motel and a truck stop and a grocery store and a lot of very happy hikers. Seven hundred miles, give or take. (He sounded so happy, you guys.)

Dear Anita,

The trail and the Blue Ridge Parkway keep crossing each other through here, so every few hours you pop out of the woods onto this pretty road with people in cars looking at the view, and they look at you like you're a bear. A man and his wife in a big motor home gave us each a cold Coke at an overlook and asked a hundred questions. That's called trail magic, when somebody just does something nice for a hiker for no reason. It happens more than you'd think. Somebody left a cooler of apples and Little Debbies by a road crossing last week with a note that said "Hike on!" and no name.

I'm going into Shenandoah National Park tomorrow. Everybody says the trail's easier there and there are places right by the trail where you can get a hamburger and a blackberry milkshake. If that's true I may never come out.

Tell Mom thank you for the new socks, and tell Dad the boots are holding up but just barely. I may need new ones in Harpers Ferry. I'm sending this with my old ones' insoles so you can see what 860 miles looks like. Sorry. (He actually did put them in the envelope. I threw them away. — A.)

Love, S.

It's true about the milkshakes. I had one at every wayside we came to, and two at one of them. Saw three bears in Shenandoah, one with two cubs that went up a tree, and about a thousand deer that act like they own the place, which I guess they do. The deer will walk right up to your campsite. Biscuit had one steal her bandanna off a branch. The park was easy walking compared to the south, and we did some big days, so now we're out the north end and a few days from Harpers Ferry. My knee is fine. My feet are fine. I can't stop eating. (He says he's lost twenty pounds but Mom shouldn't worry because he is "putting it back on one milkshake at a time.")

Harpers Ferry! About a thousand miles, roughly. Everybody calls this the psychological halfway point, because it isn't really the middle, but it feels like it. The Appalachian Trail Conference has its office here, and when you walk in they take your picture out front and put it in a big album with all the other thru-hikers from this year, and you can look through and find everybody you've met. I found Crayon's picture from before he got off, which made me sad and happy. The lady at the desk asked where I started and when, and when I said March 13 she said "oh, you're right on schedule," which nobody has ever said to me in my life. Bought new boots at the outfitter. Tomorrow I'll walk across the footbridge over the Potomac into Maryland, and then it's Pennsylvania.

I did it. I ate the half gallon. (OK, I have to explain this one. Near the halfway point of the whole trail there's a state park with a little store, and the tradition is that when you get there you buy a half gallon of ice cream and try to eat the entire thing in one sitting. Shane has been talking about this since Georgia.) I got Neapolitan so I'd have variety. It took me 41 minutes. Two Socks timed it. The last part was the strawberry and I don't want to talk about the last part. Biscuit did it in 29 and then ate a hot dog. She is my hero. Half done with the whole trail now. That's the part I keep thinking about. Half. Every step from here on, I'm closer to Katahdin than I am to Springer.

Dear everybody,

Everything they say about the Pennsylvania rocks is true. For days now the trail has been nothing but rocks, sharp ones, sticking up every which way, so you can't ever just walk, you have to look down and pick every single step. My new boots already look a year old. Biscuit says Pennsylvania is where boots go to die. Two Socks rolled his ankle and is resting it in town for a couple of days.

And it's hot. Real hot, and hardly any rain. Everybody's talking about the drought. Half the springs listed in the guidebook are dry, and you have to carry a lot more water, which is heavy. We've been getting water from people's spigots in the little towns. One lady filled all our bottles from her garden hose and then brought out a plate of sandwiches. I'd like to send her a thank you note but I didn't get her name. If anybody from around here reads this: the white house with the blue shutters and the tomato plants. Thank you.

On the Fourth of July we were in a little town where they had fireworks over the river, and we watched from a hill, and I thought about how last year I spent the Fourth working inventory at the store. I wouldn't trade.

Love, Shane

Done with Pennsylvania! Walked across the big bridge over the Delaware River into New Jersey this afternoon. Had a ham sandwich in the town on the Pennsylvania side and threw my last Pennsylvania rock into the river. It did not seem sorry. On to New Jersey, where I'm told there are a lot of bears. — S.

They weren't kidding about the bears. I've seen more bears in New Jersey in four days than I saw in the Smokies and Shenandoah together. One walked right across the trail in front of me, about twenty feet away, and stopped and looked at me, and I stood there and talked to it in my calmest voice, and it went on about its business. Who knew? New Jersey isn't what I thought. It's all ridges and lakes and woods. Went up to the monument at High Point yesterday, which is the highest point in the state, and you could see three states from there. Biscuit's husband is meeting her in New York this weekend and she might take a few days off. Two Socks is back on the trail, ankle taped up, slower than me now, which nobody can believe. (Next update is Part 3. Only five states to go after New York! — A.)