[at-l] To change the subject... The Half Gallon Club.

[infpeace@yahoo.com (Nina Baxley)]

Hi all,

All this talk of the half-gallon challenge, and I just
had to go back and read Datto's hilarious account of
the day he did the half-gallon challenge last year. I
know most of y'all have probably already read it, but
it's definitely worth a second (and third, and fourth
...) read! So, I've included it in its entirety below.

Waterfall

*****************************
July 14, Tagg Run Shelter
(from Datto's Trailplace Journal)
*****************************

I'd woken up late on that Saturday morning. And having
grown a foot in height during the last 18 months of my
life, I was hungry. 

Opening the refrigerator door in the kitchen, I
discovered a plate of tiny little square sandwiches
with toothpicks in them. Perfect! That and a full
glass of milk -- what a breakfast feast!

Just as the last little sandwich went down the hatch,
I'd heard my mom and dad come into the house at the
front door. 

All of a sudden there was a scream. My mom had
screamed. 

"You didn't eat the hors d'oeuvres I made for my
bridge club today did you?"

Gulp.

More screaming and then followed by crying. Oh God,
the bridge club was arriving in a half and hour. 

My mom was yelling at me and crying from the bedroom
-- the bridge club rotated to everyone's house once a
year and this was the day they were coming to our
house. 

An idea. I ran to the kitchen, opened one of the lower
cabinet doors, rummaged through some pans to uncover
that waffle type sandwich maker our family had bought
one time from a television commercial. I took it into
where my mom was laying on the bed.

"Mom, I'll make some jelly sandwiches with the waffle
iron. They'll never know the difference."

Oh the crying got louder. 

"Get out. Get OUT!". The door slammed behind me.

I walked into the kitchen where my dad said, "Boy,
you've really done it this time."

But my dad came up with a better idea. He told me to
go to the garage and remain there while he went down
to the deli to see what they might have available on
short notice. My dad, always the thinker.

I hung out in the garage until my dad returned with a
plate of crab puffs or something like that. It was
going to be good enough to get my mom to stop crying
and probably good enough so the ladies in the bridge
club wouldn't know the difference. Hey, I guess it was
better than jelly sandwiches made with a waffle iron.

When I was growing up, I'd always had the problem with
food -- the consumption of which made my mom think I
was a bottomless pit and my dad to put my food budget
into it's own separate financial category.

My mom said she couldn't ever keep anything in the
house -- that I'd eat it before anyone could get the
chance to have some. So she sometimes hid the food she
really liked. 

One day a new chest freezer arrived at the house. It
was located in the garage and had a lock on it. But
the lock wasn't ever used until one day I came home
and discovered the freezer door out in the garage
wouldn't open. No one else was home but my sister so I
asked her what was going on.

My sister said, "There's chocolate ice cream and
strawberries in there and mom doesn't want you eating
it all."

I was stunned. Food being blatantly hidden from me. I
was not only shocked that my own family would do such
a thing but I was hungry for ice cream as well.

No problem. With the freezer located in the garage
with the handy tool rack waiting nearby, I removed the
hinges from the freezer door, removed the chocolate
ice cream and strawberries from the freezer and then
replaced the freezer door as if nothing had happened. 

As a lesson to the rest of the family, I proceeded to
eat the entire half-gallon of chocolate ice cream and
all the ripe strawberries. Then I left to visit
friends down the street.

According to my sister who was a witness to when my
mom and dad returned to the house, it seems it was at
that time my mom and dad had given up all hope. 

But it wasn't until a few months later my mom
discovered I didn't like Butter Pecan ice cream at
all. Hallaleuya! We have found something the boy won't
eat!

>From that point forward, my mom enjoyed copious
amounts of Butter Pecan ice cream. I couldn't even
stand the smell of it either. My mom would rub it in
too -- if I'd ask if there was anything to eat in the
refrigerator, my mom would say, "there's always Butter
Pecan ice cream...why don't you have a bowl of that?"
Ugh. I liked the pecans -- it was the butter part of
the equation that just turned my stomach.

Today I walked from Ironmaster's Mansion down to the
Pine Grove General Store to perform the "Half Gallon
Challenge". A tradition among thru-hikers where the
thru-hiker is tasked with eating an entire half-gallon
of any flavor of ice cream.

Walking into the Pine Grove General Store, I told the
girl at the cash register that I was there to do the
Half-Gallon Challenge. She smiled and pointed over to
the freezer where the half-gallon ice cream boxes were
kept at the ready for waiting thru-hikers.

Looking through the top glass of the freezer I spied
several half gallon containers of ice cream. My mouth
was watering -- I had a hankering for chocolate ice
cream and the morning had already started as a hot,
humid day. I was ready. I was willing. I was able.

Box after box of ice cream in one flavor. All I could
see was Butter Pecan flavored ice cream.

You know, there is someone up there laughing out loud
right now. This could not possibly have happened
without divine influence.

Wait...there was a box of Peanut Butter flavored ice
cream and another of Cherry Jubilee, neither of which
sounded all that good to me. I asked the girl at the
cash register if there was any other flavors that
might be available. She said no, everything was right
in that freezer over there. And the truck wasn't going
to be arriving until tomorrow to restock the freezer.

This was Hershey land around here -- Hershey ice cream
near Hershey, Pennsylvania! And all this Butter Pecan
flavored ice cream...such a disappointment.

I left without so much as a taste of ice cream and
returned to Ironmaster's Mansion to pack up my
backpack. It was time to hit the trail and head
northward again. 

But already I was sweating like a pig while just
getting my stuff ready to start hiking. 

I guess Cherry Jubilee didn't sound all that bad -- I
returned to the Pine Grove General Store and purchased
the half-gallon of Cherry Jubilee ice cream and with a
swipe of my Lexan spoon and a gobble of my lips across
the cold frosty substance, successfully completed my
Half Gallon Challenge.

You know, I don't think I'll be able to eat Cherry
Jubilee ice cream for a while. At least a week I'd
imagine.



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