Duncannon Redux

Post date: Jul 05, 2016 12:6:23 AM

More on Duncannon. As I said in the previous post, it was an unusual place to say the least. When I was approaching the town, I called the Doyle Hostel to ask if a room was available. Vicki answered- "I'm not sure"...a long pause..."we don't take reservations". OK I said, I'm about 4 miles out over rocky terrain so it will about two hours. What chance do you think I have for a room? Pause. "What's your name?" Birdman. "Well, Birdman, I'll take care of you." You mean I'll get a room? "I'll take care of you." So, I hustled into town, arrived at the Doyle. There I met the owners Pat and Vicki, got a fourth floor room from Pat who gave me the key and instructions, then, as Pat turned his back, Vicki came over and took the key from my hand, #32, and changed it to #33, saying in a furtive way that it was a better room on the corner with two windows and nice cross ventilation. Thanks said the Birdman. I then sat at the bar to get something to eat and a beer. And waited and waited. Pat gave me no eye contact and seemed to ignore me. Was it the Vicki incident? No, he was pretty much ignoring most of those who had just sat down. Like he was taking a break, talking to a local guy for 10 minutes while 4-5 people were sitting trying to get an order in. Weird. I did finally order, ate, and went up to my penthouse suite with nice cross ventilation. As I opened the door, I was amazed at the sight of the room. It was filthy, looking like it hadn't been vacuumed for a long time, the sheets looked like they were dirty, walls were peeling, and the smell was nauseating, like a mixture of Noxema and turpentine, all lit up by one 40 watt incandescent bulb high on the ceiling turned on by pulling what looked like an old shoe string. Over the entry door, there was a window tilting into the room stuck open. Wow. Well, I thought, it's bad but will have to fit it into my wide comfort zone. The bathroom was worse, but even so, I took a shower. Then laid down on the Noxema/turpentine bed and tried to fall asleep. Shortly thereafter, the occupants of #32 arrived. A man and woman who I assume were hikers, but not sure. They sounded intoxicated. And they began to argue, yell, throw things, cry hysterically, and fight physically. Their window above the door was also open, so it was as if we were in the same room. And this went on in ebbs and flows for hours, at least until 1-2 am. It turned a bad room situation into a horrendous overall experience. I was never so glad to leave the next morning. I had heard, along with some other hikers, that the diner across the street served a good breakfast, so headed there. It was 7:20, and the sign said it should have opened at 7:00. Two other hikers had already been there for 5-10 minutes and we all waited until 7:30, then gave up and left town hungry. On the way out at the edge of town there was a pick up truck that had a prominent decal in the back window the said, "I'd rather be comin than strokin". Classy, right? I only include it here because it really sums up my impression of Duncannon. As I took my last steps out of town, I thought, "I'd rather be LEAVIN than comin".