A surprising opportunity to return to Connecticut came during the final week of December in 2021—surprising because we couldn’t have planned it, but the last few weeks of the year had been less cold than usual, and snow had not yet accumulated in the most southern of the New England states. Since Maple and I were both now working at American University, our vacation times coincided. So, we quickly made travel arrangements, purchased winter-rated sleeping bags, and on the day after Christmas headed up to the Days Inn in Great Barrington, Massachusetts. Our plan was to hike as far as CN-41, near Salisbury. The AT crosses CN-41 less than a mile to the east of Salisbury, and a trail parking lot at this highway crossing is where we parked our car on the morning of Monday, the 27th.
“Big Lu” Young, the co-proprietor (along with Pat “Hudson”) of Bearded Woods B&D, picked us up promptly at 9:00 and dropped us off at the AT crossing at Old Sharon Road. Our previous venture in Connecticut ended at CN-4, and we were starting one-fifth of a mile from that position. The reason for this leap is that between CN-4 and Old Sharon Road runs Guinea Brook, which requires, at least, knee-deep fording, and Maple and I didn’t want to begin our hike by walking through winter’s water when the temperature outside was in the upper 20s. In fact, when Guinea Brook is running high, a blue-blazed trail guides hikers from CN-4 to Old Sharon Road. We simply opted not to do the road walk, but to let Lu drop us off where the AT dips back into the woods.
We were to rock-hop across many creeks and streams this day. Five miles into our hike, we crossed West Cornwall Road, and then had our lunch. Afterwards began the hike up to Rogers Ramp, two huge boulders between which the upward trail passes. We weren’t making great time; in fact, we were progressing at a much slower pace than we had made plans for. Our expectation was to stop and set up our tent at Sharon’s Mountain Campsite, 8.2 miles from our beginning point. But our last backpacking adventure had been in June, and although Maple and I, lately, had been regularly on the treadmill, our backpacking muscles had evidently gone soft on us. Plainly stated, we were out of shape. Six hours into our day we arrived exhausted at Pine Swamp Brook Shelter. We had hiked a measly 5.7 miles. Granted, the trail had been constantly up and down, and our path had not been smooth. Still, we were a bit stunned and embarrassed by our performance.
Since a winter’s advisory heralded sleet and snow during the night, Maple and I were already tempted to sleep in a shelter rather than in a tent, so we didn’t have to do much mutual arm-twisting to persuade ourselves to remain at Pine Swamp Brook. But we knew that, given our physical condition and average hiking speed, this meant that there was little hope of making it the following day to Limestone Spring Shelter. So, after we had coffee and talked it over, we decided that our best bet was to pull out of our hike at Falls Village. So, I texted our shuttle driver and successfully made plans for an afternoon pick-up at Falls Village Café.
Shortly after our arrival at Pine Swamp Brook Shelter, we were joined by “Tentpole,” a flip-flop thru-hiker, who was now southbound on her way to Harper’s Ferry. She was hiking with her canine companion, Beans. They were evidently used to unfavorable weather, since Tentpole declined our invitation to take half the shelter and set up her tent a couple hundred yards away. About half an hour later, we were joined by a man with his teen-aged daughter, Wayne and Althea. Althea was planning on doing a SoBo thru-hike in 2022, after graduating from high school, and this was her shakedown. They were pleasant company, but after finishing our dinner, Maple and I climbed into our new 15-degree sleeping bags and were quickly oblivious to the world around us.
When we awoke just before sunrise, we discovered a layer of ice covering everything outside the shelter. Surprisingly, Wayne had also decided to tent, leaving Althea with half of the shelter to herself. We all packed up together and left the shelter at about the same time. Knowing that they could not be as slow as ourselves, Maple and I bid them farewell, wished Althea the best, and hoped that our paths would cross again somewhere in New Hampshire or Maine the following summer.
During the day, when we came upon a brook crossing, where a blowdown obstructed the path, we discovered a directional note kindly left for us by Althea. Fortunately, when we finally arrived at the Falls Village Café, at 2:15, we found father and daughter there enjoying a lunch, and Maple and I were able to thank them for their thoughtfulness. Maple and I each grabbed a coffee and a BLT, while we awaited Lu, who arrived to pick us up right on time at 3:00. The trail had been hard, but we were thankful to have, once again, experienced a small part of it.
Sunday, June 13: Hanover to Moose Mountain Shelter.
Last night, Maple and I stayed at Hikers Welcome in Glencliff, where we finally, after two years of planning, met the owner, “Packrat.” This morning, the residential caretaker of the hostel, “Acadicus,” shuttled us to Hanover, dropping us off at the Circle K on Main Street. (Yesterday, Maple and I stopped at Hanover, and walked from the Vermont/New Hampshire border on the Connecticut River to the Circle K, so we weren’t missing any steps to complete the state of New Hampshire on the AT.) He took our photo and left, leaving us to begin our trip. We leaned our backpacks against the front of the store and entered to pick up breakfast sandwiches and coffee. On my way out, with my hands full, I propped open the door with my right elbow. The door swung open, I lost my balance, couldn’t regain it, flew off the concrete steps, and landed on the unforgiving asphalt. Fortunately, I suffered only bruises and abrasions. Maple assured me that I now had my big fall of the trip over with, but my confidence was shaken.
We had planned to go only as far as Mink Brook on our first day, but because of the forecast calling for rain all day tomorrow, we decided instead to push on up to Moose Mountain Shelter. We did, nevertheless, stop for nearly an hour at Mink Brook to procure several liters of water, since there is none at the shelter, and to cook our lunch—a bowl of Maple’s home-cooked trail chili.
Having left Hanover this morning at 6:30, we arrived at the shelter early, at 2:30, but we were exhausted. Maple and I both left Mink Brook carrying extra water, and thus the climb up Moose Mountain South was particularly tiring. At 3:45, as I wrote this, we still had the shelter to ourselves.
Monday, June 14: Moose Mountain Shelter to Trapper John Shelter.
Birch and I woke up by 5:00 and were on the trail an hour later. We were joined at the shelter last night by “Renegade” and “Faithful,” older hikers from Texas who had to stop their thru hike last year when Faithful suffered a bad break of her ankle in Vermont. They’re out to finish the trail this summer.
We managed to leave the shelter before it started to rain, but we soon experienced drops and got on our rain gear. The descent from the north peak of Moose Mountain was quite slippery.
After crossing Goose Pond Road we were excited to see a smooth and beautiful trail. This was not to last long. We navigated across a swampy area with bog boards in dire need of replacement. Then, we trudged up an unnamed mountain over 1,000 feet high, stopping to catch our breath along the way.
By the time we began down the mountain, the trail became easier and we were at Trapper John Shelter (.3 mile off trail) in no time.
The rain was intermittent all day, and at the shelter we wasted no time getting into dry clothes. Birch got soaked!
Tuesday, June 15: Trapper John Shelter to a stealth camp at South Jacobs Brook.
After Maple completed her blog entry last night, other hikers came into the shelter. First came “Saltlick,” an older flip-flop thru-hiker who began his journey at Harper’s Ferry. Then came a nice, young married couple, “Temper” and “Snacks,” who hail from the St. Paul area. Maple and I were glad to meet up with them again today at the top of Smarts Mountain.
From the Lyme-Dorchester Road, the hike up Smarts Mountain was 3.8 miles, with an elevation gain of 2,100 feet. What really made the climb difficult, however, was the wet granite slabs that we had to push ourselves up over.
South Jacobs Brook is at the very bottom of Smarts Mountain, on the north side. We were informed that there was a stealth campsite with a fire-ring across the bridge and to the left. Maple and I couldn’t find it, and it wasn’t until after we had set up our camp next to the trail that we discovered that, for NoBos, the stealth site is on the right, before you cross the bridge. Oh well!
After eating our Mountain House lasagna dinner, it began to rain for the second time this evening. So, we are now in the tent, listening to the sounds of the near brook and of rain hitting the leaves above us.
Wednesday, June 16: South Jacobs Brook to Ore Hill Campsite.
Birch and I got up a little later and moved a bit slower this morning. We had oatmeal for breakfast, then packed up the wet tent, since it had rained overnight.
After South Jacobs Brook, the trail ascends about 600 feet to Eastman Ledges, which afforded us some amazing views. We descended to Hexacuba Shelter and bypassed it to climb Mt. Cube. This was about 1,500 feet—a climbing over rocks, rock fields, and slabs of granite. The weather was perfect and the views were spectacular.
After summiting, the descent down the north side was more tedious than technical. We had a long break, with a hot lunch at Brackett Brook. There we first met “Aches” and “Pains,” a section-hiking couple from Vermont. We filled up with water, then hiked about four miles through lots of mud and muck to the Ore Hill campsite.
Well, we set up our tent and snuggled in for the night on a site that used to be the shelter area. We never saw the numbered tent sites, at which signs had urged us to set up our camp.
Thursday, June 17: Ore Hill Campsite to NH-25 (Glencliff).
The night passed without rain, and our tent had completely dried by the morning. Maple and I rose early, had our coffee and breakfast, and were on the trail by 6:15. We soon made it to the top of Ore Hill, descended, and then ascended Mist Mountain. The hill and the mountain were about equally difficult. The major obstacle for the day was mud. Bog boards and rocks helped. When coming down Mist Mountain, we were passed by thru-hiker “Gidget,” who was packing a fluffy white little dog trail-named “Sleeping Beauty.” Gidget had carried her dog ever since she was north of the Smoky Mountains.
Maple and I arrived at NH-25 at about 10:30 and from there walked to Hikers Welcome, where we checked in and picked up our car. We would be spending this and the following night in Plymouth, before tackling Mount Moosilauke.
Sunday, June 20: Kinsman Notch to NH-25.
After a couple of zero days, Birch and I were excited to get back on trail. We stayed overnight at Hikers Welcome, where we met up once again with Aches and Pains. In the morning, we had fun chatting with the early riser hikers (mostly on the 50-plus side!). We were then shuttled to Kinsman Notch so we could slack pack south to Glencliff, over Mount Moosilauke.
The first 1.5 miles were very steep, but steps and rebar made it very manageable. The Beaver Brook, with its tall waterfalls, gave us spectacular scenery as we hiked. In 3.9 miles we were at the summit. The views above the treeline were stunning! We stayed at or above treeline for about a mile, and then took a right turn and began a steep descent on a rocky trail. After a couple of miles the trail became more manageable, and the last two-to-three miles were more like a typical AT hike.
The adventure ended by crossing Oliverian Brook in our flip flops.
Tuesday, June 22: Kinsman Notch to Eliza Brook Shelter.
Acadicus picked up Maple and me at the Liberty Springs trailhead, where we had parked our car, at 6:00, and then shuttled us back to Kinsman Notch. About a half mile into our ascent, I realized that I didn’t have our car keys. Not knowing where I left or lost them, we had to have a spare key sent from our home to Hikers Welcome.
Maple and I were hardly able to keep up a mile-an-hour pace today. We had to very carefully select our footing, and we had to use our hands in climbing more often and more consistently than ever before. Maple tripped over a root this morning and had a good fall, but fortunately without notable injury.
As I write this, it is 4:30 p.m., and we are not alone at the shelter. There are three other hikers here, all residents of New Hampshire: “Crash,” situated to our left, has already thru-hiked the trail four times, and has section-hiked it twice. Situated to our right is an aunt and niece couple. The aunt has worked as a retail manager for Eastern Mountain Sports for a decade, while her niece has made her living as a veterinarian assistant and dog-sitter. They were not shy about sharing a pipe between them.
Wednesday, June 23: Eliza Brook Shelter to Lonesome Lake Hut.
Everyone was up early this morning, but it was tough to get out of our sleeping bags because it was so cold, in the 30s. Even so, by 6:45, Birch and I were finally ready to go.
Crash warned us that the Kinsmans were difficult, but I don’t think anything could have prepared us for the vertical climbs we did today. Lots of grabbing trees to pull ourselves up over sheer rock faces. At one point we had to pull ourselves up a vertical rock face, then swing our body around a tree, holding on for dear life, to get us to firm ground. And this type of “hiking” pretty much describes the day.
That said, the views from South Kinsman were stunning. We had bright blue skies and cold temperatures. As we approached North Kinsman peak we began to see some day hikers, who had come up an easier and more direct trail.
The descent down North Kinsman was tough, but made easier, by a few carefully placed stairs. Lonesome Lake Hut was a welcome sight!
It turns out that there are only two parties—five people total—staying here tonight. Covid has led to a very “soft” opening at the huts.
Thursday, June 24: Lonesome Lake Hut to Franconia Notch.
While Maple slept in till 6:00, I got up at 4:00, walked over to Lonesome Lake to watch the sunrise and take some photos, and anxiously awaited the brewing of the coffee. This took place just before six, so I brought a cup of steaming, fresh brew to Maple, hoping thereby to get her moving. We packed up as we drank our coffee, and then went to the hut to await breakfast–oatmeal with chocolate chips and craisins, scrambled eggs, sausage patties, and hot apple bread.
Immediately after breakfast, we took our leave of the “cru” and fellow guests, donned our packs, and walked over to the lake, looking for signs for the AT (or Cascade Brook Trail). We found our direction, and began our walk, waiting for the trail to become steep and technically difficult. It never did, although we did have to cross the Cascade Brook twice by rock hopping. We made excellent time, and soon arrived at the Pemi Trail, which took us under I-93 and, ultimately, to the Liberty Springs parking trail and lot.
I should preface what follows by saying that, on my way down on the Cascade Brook Trail, I got a message from Acadicus, saying that he had found our keys in the Hikers Welcome van. Good news! So, I expected to find our car still in the lot, and so it was. However, we found the trunk of our car completely empty—everything had been stolen: gear, clothing, electronics, . . . everything. We were devastated! We had nothing left but what was on our backs. Could we have continued our hike, if we were determined to do so? Yes. But our hearts were not in it. Our thoughts would have been with our loss, rather than with our gain. For, as I said, we were devastated. As a retail clerk, the loss amounted to a full year of savings. To the thieves, no doubt, little of what they stole was of value, but to Maple and me, it was very hurtful.
We stayed that night, as planned, in Gorham, but on the following day we began our drive home. During that drive, to revive our spirits, we discussed future hikes and our return to New Hampshire and Maine in the next June.
On Thursday night, October 3, 2019, Maple and I drove into New Milford, Connecticut, spent the night at the Rocky River Inn, and on the following morning drove north to Cornwall Bridge, where we hung out at the Country Store waiting for our taxi. The only shuttle we could find was the Pawling Taxi from New York. Our overworked driver got us to Hoyt Road, and we were on the trail by 9:20.
The rain of Thursday had been followed by a cold front, and the temperature had dropped a good twenty degrees. A chill was in the air, and it seemed that autumn had finally arrived. The leaves in Connecticut were changing color and were just beginning to fall from their trees. But we would have to watch out for the fallen acorns. Beware acorns! They are like marbles and will set your feet a-rolling out from underneath you. Karen and I were to slip numerous times during this trip, and Maple actually fell twice.
With just a few steps away from Hoyt Road, we were in Connecticut. We followed closely along the border until we got to Ten Mile River. Then, we followed the river north to its confluence with the much larger Housatonic. A bridge there allowed us to cross Ten Mile River and set us down on the southern bank of the Housatonic, which we walked along side of for about 1.5 miles, before coming to the border of Schaghticoke Reservation. This pushed us back toward and across the New York border, as we climbed our highest peak for this trip, Schaghticoke Mountain, a 1000-foot climb in three miles.
Maple and I hadn’t been exercising since our last AT outing, so by the time we reached Schaghticoke Mountain Campsite, at 8.3 miles, we were nearly exhausted. But it had been a particularly dry summer, and most of the water sources were dried up, including the source at the campsite. We pushed on. It was about this time that we ran into a flip-flop thru-hiker who was now SOBO, 140 miles from completing his trek. We wished him well, and inquired into the flow of Thayer Brook. One mile south of Mt. Algo Shelter, this brook was our last hope for water before making camp. We were assured that it was running, and indeed it was. Maple and I stopped there and filled up our dromedary.
It was 5:30 by the time we reached Mt. Algo Shelter. We were exhausted, but delighted to see that, although four tents were already up, there were still several tent sites available. By the time we set up camp and cooked our dinner, the light from the sky was quickly fading and the air was getting cold. During the night, the temperature would drop down into the mid-30s.
The reputation of St. John’s Ledges had preceded itself, and so, on Saturday, Maple and I measured our progress by how close we were getting to Caleb’s Peak and the beginning of this notoriously difficult descent. We arrived at about noon, and when we got there we found a group of day-hikers gathered at the top. They had just climbed up St. John’s Ledges, and part of the group had decided not to risk a descent. They were choosing rather to hike to the nearest road. The dubious consolation that the group included nurses and doctors was offered up as an incentive for them to make the descent, but they would have none of it. They were determined not to go back down.
Upon hearing this discussion, Maple and I both felt inclined to follow the cautious hikers to the road, two miles back. We walked up to what we presumed to be the beginning of the descent and looked down, and we could see neither path nor foothold. “How did you get up here?” I asked one of the group. “That’s the lookout, not the path. If you go that way, you are sure to hit hikers and climbers on your way down. The path is over this way.”
The path was, indeed, difficult, but at least it was not impossible. The key was to use hands and feet, and to keep three points of contact when descending step by step. It was more difficult than the Dragon’s Tooth, in Virginia, but not more so than certain parts of the White Mountains. Maple and I took our time, and before long we had completed the most treacherous section. Then, we came upon an REI-sponsored class of beginning mountain climbers, who were practicing on the sheer rock face of the mountain. One of them, a former thru-hiker, from back in the ’70s, talked with us briefly. It was clear that he had contracted a bit of nostalgia, for which there is no remedy but to get back on the trail.
When we got to the bottom of the mountain, we found ourselves, once again, on the bank of the Housatonic River. We would follow this level path for three miles, passing by dry Stewart Hollow Brook Shelter. We stopped, instead, at Stony Brook, which had a decent flow and, up on the mountainside, several designated tent sites. All were unoccupied, and so we set up camp nearest to the brook and rested awhile before collecting our water for the night and next day.
On our final day, as we again walked along the southern edge of the Housatonic, we came across five white-tailed deer standing in the river. Upon seeing us, they darted across to the other side. Shortly thereafter, we came upon a couple of fly fishermen. The AT directed us away from the river and through a couple of open fields. Then, we had an 800-ft. ascent up Silver Hill. As we approached the top, the trail became increasingly rocky and even required a bit of scrambling. Fortunately, the way down, to CN-4 and our car, wasn’t quite so challenging.
Autumn in New England is lovely, and we shall soon forget neither this adventure nor its setting.
This past weekend Birch and I went backpacking so that we could finish the New Jersey portion of the Appalachian Trail. Getting to NJ 94 wasn’t easy. There were very few shuttle options from our drop off point to the trail head. For this reason, we had to settle for a taxi service with a late pick up time.
As we waited for the taxi the wind began to blow and the flurries began to fly. This was not going to be a warm weekend! The first part of the trail is known as the “stairway to heaven”. It is a short (1.4 mile) but steep ascent up Wawayanda Mountain that is fortunate to have many sets of stairs that make the hike interesting. There were a ton of day hikers who went up to enjoy the beautiful views. We, however, had mileage to make!
Unfortunately, our late start and the early sunset made it impossible to get to Wawayanda Shelter as we had hoped. Instead, we filled up with water at a stream just south of Barrett Road, crossed Barrett Road, made our way into the woods, and resigned ourselves to setting up camp. The sun was low, so we only had time for a cup of coffee and a cold sandwich before hitting the sack.
In the morning, we quickly made our way past Wawayanda Shelter and through a beautiful wooded area. After lunch, we began our climb up to the ridge. This included several places where I had to scramble and one area that had a very cool ladder that took us up to the ridge and across Prospect Rock to the highest point on the AT in New York. Again, we saw some day hikers who had come up to the area from a side trail. Once on the ridge we came to the New Jersey – New York state line. Another state complete!
This section of the New Jersey/ New York AT was surprisingly challenging. Although there is very little change in elevation, the ridge requires lots of short climbs, up and down, over a series of rocks. This slowed us down considerably! Another challenge was that the leaves had recently fallen on the trail, making following the trail very difficult at times. Thank goodness for the great job that the New York New Jersey Trail Conference did with its blazes. It saved us!
Instead of making up time from the previous day, we resigned ourselves to stopping short of the next shelter. Given our time constraints, we agreed to end our hike at New York 17a the next day. Weather throughout our trip was cold. After a warm dinner we tucked ourselves in for the night and when we awoke our water bottles were frozen. However, we had plenty of warm weather clothing, sleeping bag liners, and other gear that made us able to enjoy the trip despite the cool temps. The last day we had a very short hike to make it to our destination. Once off the ridge, the hike was very easy. We look forward to coming back when the weather warms up a bit.
It is the last weekend in September and we were excited at the prospect of hiking in sunny weather! Our trusty shuttle driver, George, dropped us off at Culver Gap early in the morning and we were able to make quick progress from Culver Gap to the fire tower, about two miles away. The view from the top was basically non-existent, given that it was very foggy. But it was beautiful nonetheless.
This section of the AT is flat but rocky. The biggest challenge was not the trail itself, but the incredible amount of water that turned the AT into a swamp. There were places where we had to navigate way around the trail in order to avoid moats. The first day we had the pleasure of seeing the Sunrise Mountain pavilion, an enormous stone structure with beautiful wood beams and breathtaking views.
The highlight of the hike was an amazing encounter with “Maps.” We first met Maps at Guyot Shelter in New Hampshire, the day that Birch had terrible knee pain. As we turned the corner on the New Jersey trail, we saw him sitting on a rock taking a break. “Hey, I know you guys,” he said! What were the chances of us meeting up with him again? Maps had completed the northern part of the trail and had flip flopped in Connecticut. We wished him well and hope he makes a ton of progress this Fall.
We stayed overnight at Mashipacong Shelter. Built in the 1930s by the Conservation Corps, the shelter itself is kind of dark and low to the ground. It had a nice lawn in front of it and it is here that we decided to set up our tent (not realizing that we probably could have gone into the woods for more private tenting options.) This shelter does not have a water source, so Birch carried 6 liters of water with him so that we would be set. However, the shelter caretaker supplied the shelter with gallons of water, set in the bear box. We enjoyed a restful afternoon at our tent spot, reading and drinking coffee. We were amused to see many dogs, in all shapes and sizes. Two stayed at the shelter, including “Millie” (or Mildred when she was in trouble), an affectionate boxer with a bright blue coat that kept her warm.
It was a chilly night but we slept well and were up and out of camp before 8 am. The remaining part of the trail was just as wet but it offered some beautiful views. The mile just south of the High Point State Park office was about as muddy as it gets. All in all, it was a great fun and we look forward to completing New Jersey soon!
Day One: Millwood/Blairstown Road to Brink Road Shelter
Once again, Maple and I enjoyed the shuttle service provided by George Lightcap of Newton, NJ. He picked us up promptly at 8:30 at Culver’s Gap and transported us, together with a fellow hiker, Glenn, to Millwood/Blairstown Road. After a couple weeks of rain, it was fortuitous to have a day of sunshine, with clouds—even though the humidity was rather high.
There were a couple of places requiring scrambling and hiking over a rock field, but overall, I’d say that the 10.9 mile hike to Brink Road Shelter was easier than the average AT hike. What made it more difficult for Maple was that one of her hiking poles broke during the first mile. It snapped in two where the sections joined together. We tried using duct tape, but that solution failed miserably.
I saw several salamanders and frogs on the trail during this trip—perhaps, because of all the rain we’ve had recently.
Just before leaving on this trip, I purchased a second Helinox Chair Zero—an excellent chair to bring backpacking, weighing only 1 pound each. I carried both, and Maple and I were able to enjoy a nice lunch break at a place that had no convenient rocks or logs to sit on.
Just before climbing Rattlesnake Mountain, we came to a nicely constructed bridge over a brook, compliments of the Boy Scouts. Rattlesnake Mountain was, I think, the most precipitous and rocky ascent that we had this day, but the view to the north from the top was certainly worth it. There we stopped and took a short break.
When we got to Brink Road Shelter, we found that the ground in front of it was under water. The water stretched out over the road, and most of the way toward the spring—so it was no simple task to make our way to the spring to fill up our dromedary. Once we got there, we found that our water filter would not pump. Ultimately, we decided to take our chances, and take our water directly from the source of the spring, without filtering.
Day Two: Brink Road Shelter to Culver’s Gap
We awoke in our tent on day two to the sound of light rainfall. This was not in the forecast. In fact, the weather report said there was no chance of rain in Newton, just ten miles to the south. Even so, the sprinkling was not bad, and Maple and I got out of our tent and enjoyed a cup of coffee and oatmeal for breakfast.
We didn’t get far on our second day’s journey, without noticing the saturation of the forest with spider webs. Webs crossed the trail, and we both had to use our trekking poles to clear the way before us.
After about an hour, we were out of the spider infested forest. Soon we had to make our steep descent from Kittatinny Mountain to Culver’s Gap.
We had fun, and look forward to continuing our journey in two weeks.
Last weekend Birch and I resumed our northbound progress on the Appalachian Trail. After so much time going south to complete Virginia, we were happy to be back in New Jersey.
We dropped our car off at a parking area on Millbrook-Blairstown Rd. and were shuttled to the Dunnfield parking area by a shuttle driver named George Lightcap. George was a wealth of information, super helpful, and very encouraging.
The trail starts near a stream and then winds up a gradual incline for about 3 miles before reaching the top of a cliff and the Campground #2 tentsite. There are a ton of tent spots here, many with impressive views of the the Worthington State Forest, the river, and the New Jersey/Pennsylvania border. The site includes bear boxes and a couple of privys.
Birch and I set up our tent under a tree and had the entire afternoon to relax. Each of us brought our Nooks so that we could read and we even brought a luxury item – a camp chair! As you can tell, this wasn’t a heavy hiking day. This was a day to just enjoy the trail and the outdoors.
The next morning we broke camp and continued north on the AT. It was flat and not too rocky. Before long, we reached the south side of Sunfish Pond. It was designated a National Natural Landmark in 1970. The trail around the pond was very rocky but it was fun to be by the lake and to see the frogs jumping into the water as we approached. About halfway around the lake there are sets of really cool rock sculptures.
After leaving the lake we hiked onto Raccoon Ridge. Here, we came to the Herb Hiller Overlook for hawk observation. Two men had binoculars glued to their faces. What were they looking at? A broad-winged hawk, we were told. This area is an ideal spot to watch the migration of hawks, we learned. This will happen mostly in September. One neat thing about this area is that it has an owl decoy perched on a long pole. Why? Who knows!
About 11 miles into our overall hike we passed the road to the Mohican Outdoor Center where there is a beautiful stream. Then, we ascended up to a ridge where we stopped for lunch and had some incredible views. After a few miles we reached the Catfish Outlook Tower. Here, the trail becomes more like a fire road. It wasn’t long before we were back to our car.
It has been a very wet spring and summer in Maryland! Birch and I decided we couldn’t wait for nice weather to hit the trail so we planned a short hike from Harpers Ferry to Gathland State Park. We had done this hike before, only in the opposite direction.
Just as we got to the Harpers Ferry parking lot it began to rain. It was a gentle mist but we were ready with our full rain gear. As we crossed the bridge next to the railroad tracks, it was interesting to see just how fast the river was flowing. The heavy rainfall this spring definitely shows itself in the water below.
Before long we were on the smooth, wide C&O canal path that is also the AT. It was a very easy hike for the first couple of miles but the rain didn’t make it easy. It POURED! We heard thunder in the distance but never worried that it was dangerous. The real challenge was navigating all the huge puddles that formed. We zig-zagged along until we got to the point where we crossed the railroad tracks and began ascending the mountain.
I remembered this section of the trail as being very steep. I was really glad to see that our latest workouts seem to be paying off because Birch and I never even had to stop to catch our breath. We just scurried up the hill! Once on “top” we still had to contend with areas of puddles but it didn’t take long before we were at the Ed Garvey shelter – the only ones there!
Before long, folks started gathering at the shelter. By the end of the evening, there were probably 40 people staying either in the shelter or in a their tents or hammocks. Wow! I think we’re in the “bubble”. We met many nice people, including Pac Man, a thru-hiker. When I mentioned to someone that we were going to have to go without coffee because we didn’t pack it, a nice young man immediately dug through his 55 pound pack and offered us some of his. (Not surprisingly, at 55 pounds he had a lot of extra stuff!) For dinner, we had kung pao chicken. (I was testing my recipes for our next long hiking trip.)
Our tent, among a sea of others!
One feature of this location that is a real bummer is the water access. The guides put the spring at .4 or .5 miles away from the shelter. This is true. The tough part is that it is a very steep trek down to the water source. Many people decided that it was easier to wait until they got to Gathland than to load up with water here. The water source was really good, though.
The next day we packed up and quickly traversed the 4 miles back to our car at Gathland State Park. I really like this part of the AT. It may not be super strenuous, but it provides an excellent opportunity to get outside.
Birch and I were shuttled to Elk Garden this morning, starting a three day backpack trip to Damascus. Throughout the week, the weather forecasts were dismal. Tons of rain! Thus, we were pleased to be able to start our ascent up White Mountain in dry weather. The trail leading up to White Mountain was very icy and – in some places – covered with snow. The crampons that we left in the car would have come in handy. Once on the top of the mountain we were quite pleased with ourselves because we assumed we had experienced the worst of the weather. Then….the wind! The area near Buzzard Rock was exposed to the elements and practically blew us over.
As we began the 200+ ft. descent we found the south side of the mountain to be warm and gorgeous. There were a few showers here and there but it wasn’t a challenge. The last mile before the shelter was not difficult but we have not hiked in 3 months so my body was complaining all the way.
Lost Mountain Shelter is huge. The water supply was great. It had a big overhang which sheltered us as the rain finally came.
Lost Mountain Shelter
Day Two: Lost Mountain Shelter to Saunders Shelter
Wow! It poured last night! By morning it was drizzling. Birch and I made quick work of the first part of the trail but, once again, I complained about all the ascents. At times it was pouring but it was fairly warm out (for February) and we were sweating in no time. I’m not sure if the inside or the outside of my rain gear was more wet!
Saunders Shelter is 1/4 mile off the trail. It is not as big as Lost Mountain but well built, with a nice large overhang to protect us from the rain. By late afternoon it stopped raining and we slowly dried out. But it took a while! By the way, we have not seen a single person on the trail so far. I guess the weather isn’t for everyone.
View from Saunders Shelter
Day Three: Saunders Shelter to Damascus, VA
By our third day, it was drizzling just enough to convince us to wear our rain gear. Fortunately, we really didn’t need it. it was a cloudy and foggy day but relatively dry. A two mile, 1000 ft descent brought us near Whitetop Laurel Creek and the Creeper Trail, a nice bike trail that paralleled much of AT in the area. This is a beautiful area worthy of a day hike. The creek is beautiful.
We were told that a brand new bridge opened near the Rt 58 crossing and so we were excited to be one of the first to use it. After crossing it and Rt 58 we were surprised to find a swollen creek that had water running well above the rocks. We were disappointed to realize that we were going to have to remove our boots, take off our rain pants, and hike up our pants in the cold weather. Birch crossed then realized that his boots were still on the other side. Thus, he had the joy of crossing three times.
We hiked up to Cuckoo Knob (about 700ft in 2.5 miles) then came down into Damascus. The Creeper Trail, the AT and Rt 58 all merged together for the last leg of our journey. How sweet it is, after 550+ miles in Virginia, to walk into the ultimate hiker town and the southern most part of Virginia!
October is a beautiful month for hiking. Birch and I met up with Sabrina from Eller Taxi Service early Saturday morning. Sabrina is friendly and knowledgeable. She helped us to drop off our car at our destination (that had a very nice parking lot) and take us to Mt. Rogers Visitors Center for our start.
Birch and I breezed through the first four miles. The trail is level and easy. We stopped for a snack at VA-601 and continued on. Both of us carried extra water. This area has been pretty dry and we were worried that the spring at Trimpi Shelter would be dry. There were promising signs along the way, however. A stream listed as “intermittent” in AWOL was running just fine.
About 3 miles before Trimpi Shelter we walked across a field. By now, the day had warmed up and Birch and I were soaked with sweat! Luckily, it was only another mile to the shelter. Up we climbed until we reached the turn off to Trimpi.
Trimpi is a solid stone shelter with a fireplace. We set up our tent and ended up having the place all to ourselves. Although the day had started off cool, there was no need to make a fire so the beautiful shelter went unused. One of the best things? The spring was running (yay!) so we didn’t need to worry about water. We relaxed, read (using our Nooks), drank coffee, and enjoyed watching the falling leaves.
The next day, we had a 4 mile hike back to our car. The first 2.5 of it was a steep 1,000+ ascent. It was a perfect day, with cool weather, a nice breeze, and plenty of sun. The leaves were dropping like crazy so I don’t expect us to see these beautiful colors again for another year.