Location: Doyle Hotel, Duncannon, PA
I woke up this morning with a mean hangover. No doubt last night’s tequila shots caused my throbbing headache. I started the day with bottles of water, but soon the vomiting commenced. The nauseas feelings that I experienced outside Rutland, VT returned, and I remembered why I decided that I would stop drinking alcohol. I had been so adamant about quitting while contemplating my life on Pico. It was easy to swear off alcohol then, and it would be easy now, because my abuse had turned my stomach inside out.
Not Bad and I went to Extreme PC again to check our email. He felt just as bad as I did, but he wasn’t physically sick. Several times I left my computer terminal and hustled to the bathroom to vomit. When we left the warm computer room, I decided that I could not leave town today. Not Bad and I walked around Duncannon and found a baseball field. We sat in the dugout while Not Bad made phone calls home. I continued to vomit. He decided that he would hike that afternoon and then through the night as far as he could so that he could catch up to Druid. He left me behind at my request.
I laid out my bed in the dugout and slept in the afternoon. Just like when I was on Pico, whenever I rolled in my sleeping bag and each time I woke my stomach turned until I threw up. It didn’t take long for me to empty the contents of my stomach until again I choked on bile. I stayed in my sleeping bag through the night. Cargo trains on the tracks adjacent to the baseball field passed constantly through the night. I never slept more than 20 minutes at a time. They blew their horns without fail as they passed, and the headlights shined in my face. If I hadn’t been so sick, I would have moved.