Pennsylvania Appalachian Trail Journal

[Free Spirit]

Dates ........ Saturday April 22, 2000
Miles ........ 20.1 miles
From ........ VA- Shenandoah NP at Rockfish Gap
To ............. Black Rock Hut.
Weather ... Mostly cloudy but dry day, 50's

Shenandoah Nat'l Park (SNP )

We started the day with a hearty breakfast and said good-bye to Granddad, then shouldered our packs and hit the trail. Just over the highway the trail entered the woods and climbed. We were greeted with a huge sign that told us we had to hike down (and back up) ј mile to get self-service permits for Shenandoah. Why couldn't they locate the self-service permits on the trail? That done, we proceeded along the trail to Bear Den Mtn. (2885') with its array of antennae. The trail very closely parallels Skyline Drive (SD ) and crosses it frequently throughout the entire Shenandoah National Park (SNP ).

We hiked past Calf Mtn. Shelter because of the 0.6 mi in/out and lunched on a big rock overlooking SD. It wasn't long before we realized something was amiss. The sign informing us of the need to hike down for permits also hinted at damaged forests - it just didn't tell us HOW DEVASTED they were. Crossing from Rockfish Gap to SNP was like getting on another planet. Gone was the lush green undergrowth and the developing green canopy of the central VA forest. It was replaced with the dead brown of mid winter - only things were really DEAD. There was almost no green to be seen, save a few pine trees here and there. And the number of trees lying dead on the forest floor, or standing / leaning dead was staggering. No wonder they warned you NOT to be in the woods during periods of high wind. It was all too obvious that there was a real danger from falling branches and trees. We were dumfounded at the devastation of the forest.

Shenandoah National Park hillside; a dead forest

Back on the trail, Brett and I were both hurting badly. Our pack weight was at maximum, near 42 pounds since we re-supplied. And, we were still not "broken in" to day long hiking. (Through hikers always say the first 3 weeks are the toughest - as the body gets used to the rugged regimen.) At one of the road crossings we accepted a ride for 4 miles then got back on the trail. Blackrock Hut (in SNP shelters are called huts) had three guys in it: Beetle, Ridge and Beetle's dad. Dad was meeting the through hikers for Easter and brought them steak and veggies in foil which they cooked on the open fire. They shared their Easter candy with us. We had supper, hung our food bags on the bear pole and turned in for the night.

"Free Spirit, Firefly, Beetle, his dad, Ridge" at Blackrock Hut.

Dates ........ Easter Sunday April 23, 2000

Miles ........ 13.1 miles
From ........ VA- Blackrock Hut SNP
To ............. Pinefield Hut SNP
Weather ... Cool (mid 30's), cloudy, breezy, somewhat clearing in the afternoon.

Blackrock Mtn. (3092'), devastated forest in SNP. Pileated woodpeckers.

A Whippoorwill's shrill singing at 5 A.M was our wake up call. Their song is shrill, beautiful - and loud when they are close. It was another cool, cloudy morning. We climbed Blackrock Mtn. (3092'), a rock top mountain that, on a clear day, would provide outstanding views.

"Firefly" starts his descent from Blackrock Mountain

Then we hiked out to Loft Mtn. Wayside for a treat - Hot dogs, BBQ pork sandwiches and French fries and chocolate haystacks (chocolate and toasted coconut.). We called home and sent some postcards out. Then we passed Loft Mtn (3320') and an unnamed summit (3080'), then begin descending - the trail at times crossing and very close to SD - down to Pinefield Hut.

Pinefield Hut (shelter)

I saw five pileated woodpeckers. It is unusual to get close to these huge birds, but evidently the dead trees attract huge numbers of them so they can be seen from time to time. The air is also filled with the song of all kinds of birds. Wildflowers are not as abundant here as in the previous (George Washington Forest) sections.

At first we were alone, did trail laundry and cooked supper. Then Barry Stevens a section hiker just starting out, joined us. Previous hut occupants had left behind three new, clean pair of underwear and some nice aluminum tent stakes in a bid to lighten their pack. You never know what you will find abandoned in a shelter (hut).

Sound asleep at 10:30 P.M I was awakened by the sound of footsteps in the gravel, and then I saw a hiker and his dog checking out the hut. Evidently, they set up behind the hut, unknown to the other hut occupants. Later (just after I fell asleep again), Barry went outside to relieve himself and came running back in, being chased by a big barking dog. That scared the hell out of all of us. In SNP, dogs are allowed only if they are leashed at all times. A rule always ignored in the backwoods areas. Another vote against bringing Fido on the trail. AT Shelters are built for hikers, not dogs.

Dates ........ Monday April 24, 2000
Miles ........ 20.8 miles
From ........ VA - SNP Pinefield Hut
To ............. Bearfence Hut
Weather ... Cloudy, cool (mid 30's-low40's), windy A.M., then windy, misty, rain.

Black Bear near Saddleback Mtn.

We got an early start, leaving Pinefield hut at 8 A.M. intending to cover lots of territory. We pushed hard over Weaver Mtn., through Simmons Gap, and up Flattop Mtn. with its views of the pretty little Roach River Valley and quaint Bacon Hollow.

Flattop Mountain view of Bacon Hollow.

It was getting quite windy so we decided it would be safer and give our aching feet a break if we followed SD, which parallels and crosses the trail in this area. (In many places the roadway is the "old AT" and in some places it is the current AT.)

Near the old road over Saddleback Mtn. Brett spotted a BLACK BEAR foraging in the brush. He ambled off as soon as I started taking pictures.

Black bear in the brush near Saddleback Mountain.

Most of the AT and Skyline Drive (SD ) in this area averages around the 3200-3400 foot elevation level. It wasn't raining hard yet, just windy, cloudy and very humid - but we felt rain was coming. We pushed hard to get to the relative cover of a shelter before it really rained. And, just after arriving at the shelter, it rained hard. We were now a full day ahead of schedule.

A woman with a dog arrived. She intended to stay in the shelter (and did for several days, we found out later) with her dog. She cautioned us not to make any quick moves and stay away from her dog because it "was a little snappy" toward strangers. GREAT! How do you stay away from a snappy dog in a 10 x 16 foot shelter? We had moved the picnic table under the roof overhang and had our cookware, stove and eating utensils there - and guess where she decided to lay her dog's wet, smelly hair covered pack? Yep. Right on the picnic table. After she let the dog run (no leash even though required by SNP ) she advised us we had better move our gear off the floor so that when HER DOG came in and SHOOK it would not get it all wet. And of course her wet smelly dog came in the shelter and shook all over everything. (Where were we supposed to move our gear - out into the rain?)

Let me repeat. SHELTERS ARE BUILT FOR HIKERS. NOT DOGS.

I was glad to have the shelter but not happy to have to share it with dogs.

Dates ........ Tuesday April 25, 2000

Miles ........ 11.4 miles
From ........ VA- Bearfence Hut SNP
To ............. Rock Spring Hut
Weather ... Rain. Fog, mist, 37-40 degrees, SLEET, wind,

Big Meadows Wayside, Tame Deer.

Knowing we had a short (mileage) day ahead of us and being so damn cold and wet, we slept in until 7:30 A.M. We did not hit the trail until nearly 10. We were still in the clouds, around 3200-3400 ft. We wore plastic gloves on our hands to keep the wind chill and wetness off.

We saw lots of deer in and around SNP. They paid no attention to people (most deer and other animals run like hell when they see, hear or smell a person.) and were almost tame.

Deer foraging near Rock Spring hut fireplace.

Big Meadows Wayside was the highlight of this wet, cold, dreary day. We treated ourselves to a hot bowl of chili, a Reuben sandwich, some fries and coffee. We called home, topped off our stove fuel, warmed up and dried out for a moment, then returned to the wet foggy trail.

Dates ........ Wednesday April 26, 2000

Miles ........ 15.1 miles
From ........ VA - Rock Spring Hut SNP
To ............. Pass Mtn. Hut
Weather ... Cold. Extremely thick FOG, 70 foot visibility A.M., clearing and cold Midday (35 degF at 2 P.M.)

SKYLAND breakfast buffet, Stony Mtn (4011') Mary's Rocks (3514') , the Pinnacle (3730'), Thornton Gap 2307', Pass Mtn. (3052')

Unbelievable fog. We passed the side trail to Hawksbill Mtn, where there was no view from the 4050' summit that was renowned for its scenic vistas. We had little difficulty following the worn AT trail and its markers. But it was another story when we got to Skyland parking lot (~3600'). We could see NOTHING but fog - at 11 A.M. we could see across 7 parking spaces and that was all. We could not even see the illuminated restaurant building from the parking lot, but followed the pavement markers to find it. There we had a wonderful (to a hiker) breakfast buffet. We left just before noon and the fog was not quite as dense but it was still very cold.

Looking down form Stony Mountain cliffs.

We descended to Stony Man Mtn. Cliffs, where the trail follows perilously close to the drop-off edge, and proceeded hiking to the Pinnacles (3730') before taking a break at the Byrds Nest #3 shelter. We then followed the ridge crest and side trail to Mary's Rock Summit 3514' where we were treated to a panoramic but rather hazy view. We could clearly see our next point on the trail - Thornton gap and the SD entrance station there. It was a rugged 1200' descent from Mary's Rocks to Thornton Gap. .

The Panorama Wayside was closed. Through the gap and into the woods - what a tangled mess of dead, leaning and downed trees going up Pass Mtn. We got to the shelter at 5:15 P.M and two circuit hikers (Frank and Mark) were there with a nice warm campfire going. Chieftain came by, said hello, checked the register and moved on. There were several deer that hung around the hut, within 20 feet of us. I think they were looking for handouts.

It rained shortly after we reached the hut. We had a hot supper, talked with Frank and Mark for a while and turned in.

Dates ........ Thursday April 27, 2000
Miles ........ 13.3 miles
From ........ Pass Mtn Hut SNP
To ............. Gravel Springs Hut
Weather ... Very Thick Fog, COLD 34 degF

Hogback Mtns - (4 peaks 3420 to 3475'), Elkwallow Wayside (eats), Chieftain, Fannypack, ElWolfe, Billy Goat.

Frank and Mark left the hut before we did but we overtook them later in the morning then had lunch with them at Elkwallow Wayside (overcooked burgers are still better than trail food). It was not a pleasant day outside. After lunch they went off in a different direction and we proceeded on the AT.

There were several summits and overlooks as well as a hang glider launch site but none provided even a limited view in the dense fog. Also, it was cold enough that we had to keep moving to stay warm.

My knees were not getting any better - I was surviving on Ibuprofen and determination. I suspect part of the problem is the lack of insoles in my hiking boots (they kept working out of the boot so I removed then days ago). Descending Hogback Mountain I acquired another nice hiking stick and developed the two-stick rhythm. It was faster and much easier on my knees, the trade-off being that it put demands on my upper torso and arms. I'll try two-sticking for a few days and see what happens.

It was a lively and interesting evening at Gravel Springs Hut. When we arrived around 4 P.M., Chieftain, who had left his wife running their limo business in Cambridge, England, was the only one there. He had always wanted to hike the great American AT and the book A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson, and other personal factors had made him decide to make the break and do it. He was hiking with an archaic British military issue backpack and cook kit and cooking over a fire but it seemed to do the job just fine for him. He was a very rugged, interesting and enlightening fellow.

Trail Angel "Fannypack and Chieftain" (from the UK) at Gravel Springs Hut

Fannypack was truly one of a kind, a trail angel of the highest magnitude. He popped into the shelter carrying a case of grape soda, boxes of cookies, toilet paper, supplies, and a huge sack of warm sandwiches from McDonalds that he passed out to our group. He was trying to hook up with two other hikers that were somewhere between the last shelter, and ours so he got into his truck to try to catch up to them. Later, unsuccessful, he returned to stay in the shelter with us. It was a continuation of his efforts to work his TRAIL MAGIC on this particular group of hikers and, for us, the beginning of his trail magic for a long way into MD. He worked for a living but managed to take lots of time off to work his generous trail magic his hiker buddies and cover hundreds of miles of trail doing so. More on this saint of a trail angel later.

ElWolfe and Billy Goat joined us, late arrivals at 8 PM. ElWolfe was a little guy from Canada that spoke primarily French but was speaking excellent English as a result of his being on the AT since Springer Mtn, GA. He was charming and a lot of fun. Billy Goat's feet were holding up and he was making good time.

Meeting and sharing time with all these fascinating hikers was one of the rewards of my hiking experience that make all the hardships worthwhile. Hikers, as a group, are some of the nicest, most down-to-earth (no pun intended), ingenious people I have the fortune to know. Through hikers, in particular, endure the most hardship for they must push on regardless of weather, terrain, aches, pain, insects or whatever else the trail may throw at them. They are amazing people and must be admired for their feats.

Dates ........ Friday April 28, 2000

Miles ........ 10.2 miles
From ........ VA - Gravel Springs Hut SNP
To ............. Tom Floyd Shelter
Weather ... Foggy morning, gradually clearing to partly sunny, mid 40's to 60's.

South Marshall Mtn. (3212'), North Marshall Mtn.(3368'), Leaving Shenandoah National Park (SNP )

Brett and I left camp at 8:45 A.M. It was cool and very foggy as it had been so many mornings. We climbed to the summits of North and South Marshall Mountains which were supposed to offer spectacular views in all directions but could not see much beyond 20 feet. About halfway through the hike ElWolfe caught up and hiked with us. He had made arrangements with Fannypack to pick him up in Harpers Ferry and take him to Washington, DC to meet his incoming hiking partner at midnight, then drive the two of them back to Harper's Ferry and the AT. It is simply amazing what Fannypack will do to help out his fellow hikers.

Chainsaw cut trail through dead trees in Shenandoah National Park. ("ElWolfe" ahead, on trail.)

Note the photo of the trail with all the downed trees. This has been more typical than not with SNP. It was amazing to us the difference in the condition of the forest and it's under story as soon as we left SNP. Less than two miles from the park we noticed healthier trees and a healthy growth of young trees and underbrush. We could not explain or understand it.

One nice thing about SNP that we will miss is the concrete post at trail junctions and significant points. The posts were fitted with metal bands, which pointed in the direction of and gave the mileage to points of reference. They helped a lot in the fog. Another difference: In SNP, they did not allow tent camping near the huts. Elsewhere, they encouraged it. If a hut was full and you were a late arrival, technically, in SNP, you were out of luck. Because of the dead and leaning trees everywhere, safe tentsights were few and far between.

We were the first arrivals at the Tom Floyd Shelter, a nice shelter with a big porch deck and roof overhang that would sleep two. We were early, so we took advantage of the nicer weather to relax and air out our sleeping bags. It was a long trek to get water. I gathered firewood while Brett and ElWolfe got water. AuSable Mike, Medicine Man (his nephew), Old Spice, and Southern Comfort joined us. Seven people filled the shelter and its overhang. The conversation was lively and interesting. Everyone wondered at the difference in the forest since leaving SNP. It was also the consensus that there were many more wildflowers growing outside SNP and very few in the park.

Clockwise from "Firefly" (black cap): "AuSable Mike, ElWolfe, Medicine Man, Old Spice, and Southern Comfort" at Tom Floyd shelter.

[Free Spirit]

Dates ........ Saturday April 29, 2000
Miles ........ 13.6 miles
From ........ VA - Tom Floyd Shelter
To ............. Firefly - Brett - to meet his ride at Linden, VA trailhead parking lot....... FreeSpirit - Al - to Manassas Gap Shelter
Weather ... Cool but clear blue sky in morning, warming to mid 60's.

An old AT blaze meets new on a branch near US government breeding farm.

Jim and Molly Denton Shelter - the Hiker's Hilton, 1000 foot High Knob climb.

It was with mixed emotions that Firefly was finishing his hike today and leaving the trail. He was sorry to see the hike end but was anxious to get back home. I was sorry to see him go, anxious to get home myself, and at the same tome looking forward to continuing my hike on to the PA border. It was a decent day for a change with sunshine the better part of the day. I debated whether to stay with the original plan, stay at the Jim and Molly Denton shelter (backtrack) or push ahead to Manassas Gap shelter after Brett's departure. I decided on the latter.

We hiked past a huge US Government breeding farm and through lush green woods, and up over a knob. I found another tick and removed it; this one a deer tick in my right inner elbow joint despite my long sleeved shirt. I have not been wearing insect repellant, though, because the bugs have not been bad with the cold wet weather.

The Jim and Molly Denton shelter - aka the Hiker's Hilton.

We took a break at the Jim and Molly Denton Shelter - also called the Hiker's Hilton. It was nice shelter set amid a field of flowering dogwoods with a big porch, windows, SHOWER, flowers, brick walkways, and an Adirondack bench on the porch. I was tempted to stay , but wanted to get a few miles ahead of plan. We met Billy Goat and a couple of southbound women there. The air was rich with the heavenly scents of wildflowers, dogwoods in bloom, and a profusion of honeysuckle. We saw a lot of day hikers today. It is hard to believe this wilderness beauty is only 65 miles from Washington DC.

While waiting for Brett's ride, I shaved and cleaned up a bit. Brett's ride came, took me into a convenience store in Linden where I called home, had two delicious hot dogs, two ice cream sandwiches, and a bottle of Pepsi. Brett's ride had brought my re-supply package and a spare pare of boots in case I needed them. I took their insoles because my boots and feet had been no problem other than the insoles working out of the boot. Re-supplied, my pack weighed a ton - because now I was carrying a tent in addition to a full week of food and gear. Nonetheless I stuffed a bag of corn chips into a side pocket, said goodbye to Brett and his buddy and headed up the hill to Manassas gap shelter. Boy, could I feel those 11 additional pounds (8.5 food, 2.5 tent.) on my back. I was dragging up that 1000-foot climb.

Boy Scouts at Manassas Gap shelter (they stayed in tents, leaving the shelter for hikers.)

When I finally dragged myself into the shelter, there was a troop of boy scouts and a couple of weekenders tenting nearby. Shortly after I got there ElWolfe arrived. Then Old Spice and Southern Comfort showed up. They had brought BEER up from Linden and that went so well with my Fritos corn ships. The scouts were extremely well behaved, polite, quiet, and even took our trash out for us. It was nice having them there. I had my usual supper in addition to my huge off-trail lunch, beer and chips. I either had to eat it or carry it.

Dates ........ Sunday April 30, 2000
Miles ........ 20.3 miles
From ........ VA- Manassas Gap Shelter
To ............. Sam Moore Shelter
Weather ... Sunny, Blue sky, breezy, 50 to75 degF

Sea of trillium covers the forest floor on a nice sunny morning.

RATTLESNAKE on "Roller Coaster".

It was a beautiful day - sunny, clear and nice - for a change. ElWolfe, Old Spice, Southern Comfort and I planned to hike 20 + miles today, to the Sam Moore Shelter. That was a typical day's distance for a through hiker but a big push for me - especially with my heavy pack over this rugged terrain. We started out crossing a hilltop covered with trillium.

The trail was a section known as the Roller Coaster. There was a series of "bumps" with very little moderate or level terrain, the trail either steep up or steep down. The elevations were not extreme, ranging only from 1000 to 2000 feet but the constant climbing or descending was very tiring. It was also quite rocky in many places. In the valleys, streams were usually found.

Climbing the second sharp bump, Piney Ridge, my hiking stick hit a log that was lying across the trail. As I went to step over the log I heard a distinct buzzing-rattling sound, looked toward the noise and saw a coiled RATTLESNAKE six feet away. I went to step back, lost my balance, stumbled, and nearly fell off the ridge. My hiking stick kept me from going over the edge. I tried to get my camera out, but by the time I regained my composure, the snake had slithered off into the rocks and I wasn't about to go looking for him.

My knees were much better and I was almost pain free. The combination of two-stick hiking with the proper shock absorbing insoles in my boots were paying off, and, after more than two weeks, my body was getting used to the daily rigors I was forcing upon it. .

I passed by two shelter side trails, Dick's Dome and Rod Hollow, without visiting them, saving over Ѕ mile of extra hiking. I expected to see the guys at Sam Moore shelter but I had the place all to myself. I found out later they pushed on four more miles to the Bears Den Hostel. Sam Moore was very nice shelter with a stream running in front of it and a covered picnic area. I arrived very thirsty around 5 P.M., did a little trail laundry, cooked supper and turned in.

Sam Moore shelter and its covered picnic area.

The weekend and nice weather brought out many day hikers and weekenders. I met a trail maintainer fixing a bridge. At Ashby Gap, just before the AT crosses US 50, I came across more of Fannypack's trail magic, a half case of grape soda in a trailside stream. Thank you Fannypack. I enjoyed a soda break and I knew that other hikers coming along would enjoy Fannypack's Trail Magic.

Dates ........ Monday May 1, 2000
Miles ........ 14.1 miles
From ........ VA - Sam Moore Shelter
To ............. David Lesser Shelter
Weather ... Sunny, pleasant 50 to 75 deg

BEARS DEN Rocks and HOSTEL, Crescent Rocks and Cliffs

I enjoyed a very good nights sleep with no snoring and no critters to disrupt my sleep. It was a sunny, beautiful, fog free morning - one of the first on this hike. I had breakfast, packed up and hit the trail. Topping the hill across the stream from the shelter I came upon a large burned out area of the forest that was recovering nicely. I was treated to a pretty view of the nearby hillsides and valley. A hiker earns good views and vistas as his reward for his effort. But the clouds, rain, fog, haze, - and now the leaves coming out - make the scarce good views an event to be truly cherished and appreciated. It was so sunny that I had to put sunscreen on to prevent sunburn; another rare event, at least on this hike. There was no shortage of water on this hike. It seemed all the springs were running well and there were frequent stream crossings.

Surveying the view from Bears Den Rocks.

I climbed to Bears Den Rocks and enjoyed the views then hid my pack in the brush and walked up to Bears Den Hostel. Wow. What a grand setting for a hostel. It was after 10:30 and the building was locked up, there was a car there but no one answered the door. Fannypack had told us how to get in and there was a note on the back door indicating how a hiker could make entry after hours. I needed water and the phone. Water was easy, but finding my way to the telephone took a little more exploring. I called home and moved my pickup date ahead from Saturday to Friday. I hated to leave this beautiful place and was sorely tempted to relax in a chair on the beautiful grounds, but I had to move on. Harpers Ferry, West Virginia and Maryland still lie ahead.

Bears Den Hostel.

Returning to my pack at Bears Den Rocks another hiker took my photo overlooking Shenandoah Valley. I descended and crossed the divided highway at Snicker's Gap (the gap named after a ferry operator, Edward Snicker, 1874, not the candy bar.) and began climbing and hiking the ridge dividing West Virginia and Virginia, with the trail running right along the border. It was a rocky switchback climb north from Snickers gap. The trail crossed a boulder lined stream where most of the water bubbles and runs beneath the rocks. I filtered water and had a lunch break there, then continued my steep climb through another burned out area.

A cute lizard scurried among the charred logs. At the cliff on top of Crescent Rocks were beautiful panoramic views of the area I had just hiked. Climbers are advised to avoid the cliffs in warm weather because of snakes. Good advice. There were lots of azaleas and wildflowers along the trail, despite the forest fire. Briefly descending, the trail crossed Devils Racecourse, an even larger boulder field with a stream running beneath it.

I bypassed the trail to Blackburn trail Center, another hiker advising me that the center was not yet open and the water was not turned on. It was a long and mostly pleasant walk along the ridge to the David Lesser Shelter. I picked up my pace in the last two miles, sensing that a change in the weather was imminent.

The shelter was very nice, almost equaling the famed hiker's Hilton, and I had it all to myself. It had one drawback, though - it was a terrible trudge ј mile steeply down the mountain for water. Here, my 2Ѕ-gallon Stearns water sack earned its keep. One filling would be enough for supper, a sponge bath, dishes, breakfast, and enough left to fill my quart Nalgene bottle. I enjoyed another good nights sleep, only interrupted by a brief thundershower overnight.

David Lesser Shelter

Dates ........ Tuesday May 2, 2000

Miles ........ 19.7 miles
From ........ VA - David Lesser Shelter
To ............. MD - Crampton Gap Shelter
Weather ... Foggy morning, mild, calm, then clearing and warmer, 75 degF

HARPERS FERRY WV, Shenandoah and Potomac Rivers, Civil War Historic markers and sites, ATC HQ, Baltimore & Ohio (B & O) RR trestle (Goodloe Byron Memorial Footbridge) and Chesapeake & Ohio (C & O) Canal Towpath.

A foggy but mild morning greeted me as I made breakfast and packed up. The day cleared quickly becoming sunny, breezy and mild in the 70's. By 8:45 I was crossing WV rt. 9 at Keys Gap, just inside WV with both border signs visible. The trail covers about 7 miles of WV, including Harpers Ferry. I passed the (Federal) Civil War rock redoubts on the ridge above Harpers Ferry and entered Harpers Ferry National Park. An interesting boulder was engraved with "US" . Also along the trail were several monuments, plaques, memorials and graveyards relating to the intense Civil War battles that took place in this area.

I descended, steeply at times, down the hillside to the bridge crossing the Shenandoah River at Harpers Ferry, crossed the beautiful river and followed the trail to AT Headquarters where I got my mug shot for posterity, signed the register, called home, and then went out to a nice cafй for lunch with one of the AT employees, Old Spice, ElWolfe, and Southern Comfort. After a quick stop at the post office, I resumed my hike through the quaint and historic Harpers Ferry, crossed the Shenandoah River on the Railroad Trestle footbridge.

Harpers Ferry railroad tunnel entrance

Looking back along the AT footbridge and RR trestle across the Potomac to Harpers Ferry.

One train was waiting on the trestle at the Harpers Ferry Tunnel opening at a signal as another train moved along the tracks adjacent to the towpath. This had to be a railroad buff's dream come true. A stairway takes the AT off the B & O train trestle down to the C & O Canal Towpath. The three miles the AT followed the towpath and Potomac River was teeming with ducks, geese, and turtles. It was a far more interesting portion of the AT than I expected and very pleasant, easy walking.

Turtles bask in the sun in the old C & O canal bed.

I crossed the RR tracks and highway and climbed the nose of South Mountain, entering the state park there and hiked on to Gathland State Park, Crampton Gap, and Crampton Gap Shelter, where I spent the night. Gathland State Park and its War Correspondent's Memorial were interesting. South Mountain runs through all of Maryland and deep into Pennsylvania with the AT on top of its ridge most of the way.

I hiked past the correspondent's monument up the hill to the Crampton Gap Shelter. AuSable Mike, his wife and Medicine Man were there. Old Spice and Southern Comfort came along shortly. ElWolfe stayed in Harpers Ferry to meet Fannypack for his ride into Washington DC to pick up Annie, his hiking partner. I took a sponge bath, did some trail laundry, and cooked supper. Mikes wife was joining him for a couple of weeks.

The big push to Crampton Gap put me ahead one full day. When I called home, I told my ride to meet me Friday at noon instead of Friday evening. I had less than 30 miles to my hike's end at PenMar Park, PA and 2 Ѕ days to cover the relatively easy trail. I am getting anxious to be home again.


Dates ........ Wednesday May 3, 2000
Miles ........ 12.2 miles
From ........ MD- Crampton Gap
To ............. Pine Knob Shelter
Weather ... Warm hazy and humid, 60's to upper 70's.

White Rocks overlook, Civil War sites, Original Washington Monument

Last night at the shelter was more like spending a night on a back porch in suburbia. There were barking dogs, mooing cattle, traffic noises, crowing roosters, cackling chickens and noisy kids. But I slept fairly well in the cramped little shelter and started the day off with very high spirits.

"Old Spice and Southern Comfort" look back on the South Mountain ridge we just hiked.

STONEWALL REGIMENT historic Civil War battlefield marker.

The South mountain ridge is relatively smooth and pretty at first. Hiking more or less with Old Spice and Medicine Man, we passed up the Rocky Run Shelter and took a break at its side trail as AuSable Mike, his wife and Medicine Man caught up. We stopped in at the Dahlgren trailside campground and found a sink full of grape soda - Fannypack was still working his magic all the way up here! We ascend to Dahlgren Chapel, cross the road and climb the hill. Descending the other side, we reach Washington Monument State Park, call home, take a lunch break, and visit the monument before moving on. (It was the first monument to George; not THE Washington monument in DC.) A large group of girls (Outward Bound) is out for a backpacking excursion. (YAY!). We rush to stay ahead of them.

We cross I 70 just as the state police are cleaning up a serious wreck there and enter the woods where another large group of girls is gathered at the side trail to the Pine Knob Shelter. They are going to be camping near the shelter (YAY! YAY!).

Pine Knob shelter.

The shelter itself is a real sad affair. It is filthy, black with soot from the too-close fireplace, generally old and decrepit, full of trash and litter, bearing much evidence of being a party gathering spot, and being without a register. And there was a large fire going in the fireplace - totally unattended. But - it was a roof over our heads. Mikes wife is having real problems with (lack of) conditioning and blisters but she is hanging in there. We passed a beer joint back by the I 70 crossing. Medicine Man makes a burger and beer run after the appropriate incentive (2 beers) is offered up. A young at heart senior couple, very neat and tidy, joins us at the shelter. They hiked in from PenMar. They were such nice people, gentle and fun to talk to. They were enjoying section hikes of the AT. The girls were amazing. They were so well behaved and quiet, especially after dark that we hardly knew they were there. The line formed at the privy door brought us back to reality, however.

Dates ........ Thursday May 4, 2000
Miles ........ 12.5 miles
From ........ MD - Pine Knob Shelter
To ............. Devils Race Course Shelter
Weather ... Warm morning turned hot, hazy and humid, 62 to 80 degF, very light evening rain shower.

Black Rock Cliffs along South Mountain Ridge, Devil's Racecourse rockslide, Quirauk Mtn and Raven Rock

I left the shelter and climbed to the ridge. The views from Black Rock Cliffs were mottled by haze but were inspirational nonetheless. The trail was relocated in this area and my trail guide was useless. Looking for the (old) Hemlock hill Shelter (now closed) I found the new Phillip Cowall shelter unoccupied with a large fire going full blaze in its fireplace and the new floor littered with cigarette butts. I cannot believe serious hikers did this but it is so close to the road I believe irresponsible partying kids left this beautiful new shelter this way. Such behavior leads to rules and regulations which hurt the good, responsible hikers; rules such as fire bans. Of course, just like well intended gun control, the rules or laws brought on by the irresponsible jerks punish the responsible majority. The jerk that left that (and other) shelter fires unattended probably will not abide by any fire ban rules anyway

Phillip Cowell shelter.

I put the fire out before returning to the trail. I followed the blazes over the hill, across a powerline clearing and through the woods to a valley stream. There I found a cooler full of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and chocolate chip cookies, a register, and a note directing hikers to the stream for - what else - Grape Soda! Fannypack's MAGIC works well into Maryland, and probably beyond. It went back to Bearfence Mtn. Shelter, where I met him - that is over 142 trail miles - many more by car. And, probably back further, from what I heard from other hikers. THANK YOU FANNYPACK FOR ALL YOUR TRULY APPRECIATED TRAIL MAGIC.

It was just what I needed for the grueling climb ahead of me. Now, the map only shows a 500 foot climb. What is fails to show is that it is extremely steep. The hot 80 degF day did not help, but the P/J fuel sure did. The relocated trail switchbacks alongside a huge rock formation (Raven Rocks) jutting lengthwise out of and down the middle of Quirauk Mountain. On top, you can see where the old AT comes in. It levels of on top of the ridge

Raven Rocks divide the face of Quirauk Mountain.

I got to the Devils Racecourse Shelter side trail and followed IT down its 0.3 miles damn-near-straight-downhill from the ridge to the shelter. Alone, I washed myself and shaved. Medicine man came in, set his pack down, and went back to help AuSable Mike's wife up the hill by carrying her pack. She was having a rough go of it, especially with blisters on her blisters and the heat. AuSable Mike, his wife and Medicine Man arrived at the shelter, followed by Duck Crossing and CruisinCanuk.

Devils Racecourse shelter.

"Duck Crossing and Cruisin Canuk".

As we sat out a short, light rain shower in the shelter, five young men with no gear headed up the trail from a nearby road. Intent on doing their drugs , they pretended to be looking for a campsite. Yeah! Right! Mike laughingly offered to "bring the papers". After the surprise of seeing us in the shelter, they just went up the trail, did their thing, and went back where they came.

The Devils Racecourse here was serious. You could hear water running beneath its boulders but there was no water to be seen. AuSable Mike, herewith holder of the AT record of 28 mice trapped and killed in one shelter, trapped two at this one, properly administering the coup de grace to one of them with his hiking boot at precisely midnight.

This was to be my final night on the trail. Though most anxious to get back home and to my loved ones, I have really enjoyed this hike, despite its challenges and hardships.

Dates ........ Friday May 5, 2000
Miles ........ 4.9 miles
From ........ MD - Devil's racecourse Shelter
To ............. PA / MD State line at PenMar Park (PA)
Weather ... Very warm, humid, upper 70's to 80 by noon.

Quirauk Mountain (~1800'), Hang glider launch site, PenMar Pavilion, PA/MD line - end of this hike.

I enjoyed a gentle climb from the shelter to the top of Quirauk Mountain and took the short side trail to the High Rock hang glider launch point. It was a grand view, even if somewhat limited by haze. I was a bit disappointed by all the litter nearby, but what was one to expect from an area directly accessible by auto. At least the socially irresponsible and immature little brats are too lazy to get away from their cars, and thus are limited to making roadside messes.

It was a beautiful day, though a bit warm, but who's going to complain about a sunny day on the trail? Again I was blessed with beautiful forest, fabulous woodland and wildflower scents. The very steep hike down around the rip rap face of High Rock reminded me to be careful - I did not want any injury on this, the final leg of my journey.

At the PenMar pavilion overlooking the Waynesboro PA valley I met two British hikers - Satcom and Buff. They too had read Bryson's A Walk in the Woods and decided they had to come all the way over here to do it themselves. Fabulous! We had a great conversation while waiting for my ride. (I finished at 9:30; my ride was due at noon). Then, out of the woods came ElWolfe, Annie, AuSable Mike and his wife, Medicine Man, Cruisin Canuk, Duck Crossing. Why, it was a regular reunion of sorts. We all posed for group photos, posterity and all that. What a great end to a wonderful adventure.

"Cruisin Canuk, Satcom, and Buff" at PenMar overlook

International cast of characters (and hikers) meet at PenMar Park (PA-MD border) Left to Right: " Buff ( from UK), Annie and ElWolfe (from Canada), Free Spirit, Cruisin Canuk (Canada), Ausable Mike, Medicine man, Duck Crossing. (Satcom, UK, took the photo).

AuSable Mike's wife was holding up and decided to continue with her hike though this was a bail out opportunity. She was one tough, determined hiker! Annie had to leave the trail again due to family problems and we were able to offer her a ride into Harrisburg to catch a bus home to Canada, which she graciously accepted. We were giving Satcom and Buff a ride to nearby Caledonia where they had mail re-supply packages waiting. From there, they would pick up the trail at Caledonia State Park.

Noon and my ride arrived. We piled the four backpacks and hikers into the car and off we went, thus ending a wonderful journey of nearly 300 wilderness miles and meeting countless wonderful people along the great Appalachian Trail.

[Free Spirit]

This hike in memory of

Dug Brink

Steve Brown

Bob Stoegbauer

Three fine young men whose lives were cut tragically short.

Dates .... Sunday September 10 through Saturday, Sept. 30, 2000
Miles .... 302.6 miles total
From .... Mount Washington, NH ( Southbound through VT and MASS )
To ......... Mass Turnpike

Overview

This adventure was a southbound trek on the Appalachian Trail as it ran through the White Mountains of New Hampshire, the Green Mountains of Vermont, ending in Massachusetts' northern Berkshires. Somewhere in the middle of Vermont, near Sherburne Pass where the Appalachian Trail (AT) and Vermont's Long Trail (LT) run together, I attained my 1000th trail mile, somewhat less that half the total AT trail length of 2160 miles, more or less.

I hiked over Mt. Washington (6288'- descent only), Mounts Monroe (5385'), Franklin (5004'), Eisenhower (4761'), Pierce (4310'), Tom (4047'), Guyot (4560'), So. Twin (4902'), Kinsman North (4293), Kinsman South (4358'), Wolf (3478'), Blue (4530'), Moosilauke (4802'), Cube (2911'), Smarts (3240'), White Rocks (2680') and Moose (2300') in New Hampshire, Mounts (or peaks as they are often called in VT.) Pico (3957'), Killington (4235'), Baker (2850'), Bear (2210'), Peru (3429'), Styles (3394'), Bromley (3260'), Spruce (2060'), Stratton (3936'), and Glastenbury (3748'), in Vermont, and over Mounts East, Williams (2951'), Fitch (3110'), and Greylock (3491') in Massachusetts. I climbed a lot of mountains.

I hiked, and hiked some more, putting in mile after mile after mile. Hiking is what you do on a long distance AT backpacking trip. Hike mile after mile until you reach shelter or can hike no more.

I tried some radically different approaches to make my pack lighter and, hence, my journey easier, while still being prepared for "the worlds worst weather" on top of Mount Washington. To lighten my pack I did not carry a stove, fuel or cook gear except for one very lightweight 3-liter aluminum pot. For food I depended on power bars and pop tarts for breakfast, powerful trail mix, granola bars and candy bars for daytime body fuel, and nuts, cookies and candy bars for an evening meal. And, whatever I could get "off trail" along the way. If I hit on a good food source, such as a restaurant, hot dog cart or sub shop, I would eat my fill and get two or three meals worth of sandwiches or food "to go". This worked great, giving me a variety of foods. Surplus "trail food" that I then had in my pack would be left hanging at the next shelter or donated to other hikers. To further my minimalist approach, I left my 2 pound water filter home in favor of a four ounce bottle of Polar Pure crystals which purified water with an iodine solution and worked very well. I did not skimp on clothing but focused on maximum warmth for minimum weight - quick drying nylon and fleece that could be worn in layers. In fact, I had more and warmer clothes than I had ever carried before. This approach saved my sorry ass on top of Mount Moosilauke (details to follow.) I purchased a new internal frame pack, selecting carefully the Camp Trails Shasta 65 for its good fit, adjustability, capacity and light four pound weight. I shed even more gear that I did not use/need on previous treks (flare gun & flares, etc.) and got my pack weight down to a very respectable 32 pounds with one week's food and one quart of water. I pared that even more by arranging a resupply in the middle of the first week thereby reducing the food weight by three pounds and total pack weight to 29 pounds. The minimalist pack worked fine; I had all the gear and food I needed.

I preceded my journey with a decadent vacation stay at New Hampshire's finest oceanfront B&B, The Oceanside Inn in Hampton Beach. From there, a very early morning ride to Mount Washington's Cog Railway Base Station. I was first in line waiting for the ticket window to open, full of as much anticipation as a little boy facing his first horseback ride. It was a crisp, cold mountain morning. A couple of days ago the mountain's temperature plummeted to the lower 20's.

Waiting for the ticket window to open

Let me digress back 20 years to my first trip to Mount Washington. I wanted very badly then to take the Cog rail to the summit but could afford neither the ticket price (for two) nor the time. I always had a fascination with mechanical devices and this little coal fired marvel that climbed mountains grabbed my attention from the first time I ever saw or heard of it. Subsequent trips found me wanting but not able to take the Cog. I did drive to Mount Washington's summit at least twice, though. Even in summer, it was always cold, windy, and usually foggy, damp or wet. I never saw a clear view from the summit in my several trips there. But I did hear and read of the many horror stories of sudden changes to bad weather on its summit. So, I was prepared for winter conditions in September.

I decided that this was the time to take the Cog to the mountaintop. No matter what the weather, I was going to make it part of my hike. So, I'd just take whatever Mother Nature and New England's highest mountain had in store for me. I was fully prepared for the worst, and in fact expected it. For two weeks prior to my vacation I had been monitoring conditions at the top. They had fog and temperatures in the 20's and 30's every day - usually some hefty wind, rain, and snow thrown in. I was prepared to be miserably cold and wet. It was nothing new to me, quite possibly just colder and wetter. So imagine my surprise and pleasure as I stood on the platform, the hissing of steam and rushing of a mountain stream in the background, amidst calm, clear blue skies and an absolutely rare unobstructed view of the summit. I hoped the weather held until we reached the top. I was literally shaking with excitement and anticipation. The little kid in me was trying to burst out all over. We boarded and I got the best seat in the house - front corner window. At precisely 9:00 A.M. the whistle blew, the brakeman hopped aboard and the cog lurched into motion, chugging its way up the mountain. I was thrilled beyond description for every one of the 75 minutes this truly unique little mechanical wonder, this marvelously traditional piece of antiquity and historic technology, took to deliver me to the 6288 foot summit of Mount Washington. And I was embarking on an exciting, long awaited journey of my own, too - another AT backpacking adventure.

The beginning of an adventure: With Free Spirit on board, the Cog Rail chugs its way up Mount Washington.

Delivered to the northeast's highest point in incredible style, I quickly mounted the summit and stood for moments in breathless awe at the view which was absolutely clear and haze free all the way to the Atlantic Ocean. It was in the 50's with just a hint of a breeze. I couldn't ask for better weather. I quickly toured the summit building, sent a few postcards, grabbed a couple hot dogs, and hit the trail. This was my first ever hiking experience above tree line and it was so nice - much nicer in fact than many miles I had put in at elevations many thousands of feet lower.

The nice weather notwithstanding, New Hampshire's White Mountains put me in my place in a hurry. I knew that the steep climbs and descents to the higher mountain elevations would cut down on my daily trail mileage so I pared my expectations from 15 to 12 miles a day. In most cases it was a real challenge to make anywhere near those miles in the Whites. I learned that it takes me about an hour to climb or descend 1000 rocky feet of steep elevation. In the Whites, you spend more time climbing or descending steeply than normal and it is far more strenuous than the usual woods trail. And the rocks - oh my God, the rocks! Take the worst Pennsylvania rocky trail, make the rocks bigger and rounder, and run the trail steeply up and down both sides of a 4000 to 6000 foot mountain and you have the Whites. Add wind and rain to the experience, making the rocks very slippery. I was so thankful for my lighter pack and new trekking poles.

While the challenge, effort and exertion were far greater, then too were the rewards. When the weather permitted, the views from the mountaintops were phenomenal, unforgettable, and awe inspiring. Even when the weather was bad, it was not everyday you could stand on a mountaintop and be in a cloud. THAT was an experience not to be forgotten. There were no man made sounds on the mountains - just the wind whistling through the trees, birds and sounds of nature. The air was fresh and clean, laden with the heavenly scent of balsam fir trees that grew in the higher elevations below treeline.

Along with he climbing and challenges came another new experience - the Appalachian Mountain Club (AMC) hut experience. Huts are strategically located through the Whites by AMC to lodge hikers, for a fee, minimize environmental impact by focusing hiker concentration in certain areas and restrict camping. I stayed at two huts - Galehead and Lonesome Lake, and visited three others - Lake of the Clouds, Mizpah Spring, and Zealand Falls. Huts provide water, a slab bunk, a couple of blankets and a pillow, toilet facilities (no showers) , and hearty family style dinner and breakfast. Food and supplies are carried in (backpacked for miles) by hut personnel to the huts remote locations. Bigger supplies like propane and bulk food supplies are helicoptered in.

Family style means just that - everyone there is "family" - all hikers, for that is the only way in. The social atmosphere is just like a trail shelter but cozier. Each hut is unique. Galehead had a wind and solar power system, Zealand Falls had the neatest water supply system I ever saw, using water from the nearby Zealand Falls and stream to power a modified hand type well pump. Waterpower transmits through a series of belts and pulleys to raise and lower the counter weighted pump handle, and pump water from the well to the hut. It looks like Rube Goldburg but works great. Lonesome Lakes hut uses propane gas lights and solar power for its minimal electric requirements. All the huts are very functional, rustic, charming and comfortable.

Mount Moosilauke (4802'), Indian for "high bald place", is really made up of two mountain summits - the namesake and the lesser-known Mt. Blue (4530'). Together they make up three miles of trail above treeline and they nearly proved my undoing. I climbed Moosilauke in two stages. The lower north trail along Beaver Brook gorge is a series of spectacular cascades, extremely steep, challenging and treacherous. It was equipped in many places with ladder steps imbedded in the rock face and iron grab bars to keep hikers from falling into the gorge and to make the sheer, at times near vertical rock face climbable. It leads to Beaver Brook Shelter about halfway up, where I spent the night. The upper half to the summit, which I climbed the following day, is not terribly steep, just rocky. The summit itself is a mild incline.

Overnight a storm moved in and I chose to continue the climb over the summit the next morning despite the bad weather. Others waited out the storm while some headed north and tackled the fearsome lower trail along the gorge. No one went over the summit with me. It was just me, the mountain, and the storm.

Quote from AT NH-VT Guidebook, which I evidently passed over: "Use caution when traversing the Cliffside section of the Beaver Brook Trail. Mt. Moosilauke is above treeline and subject to the full force of violent storms. "

Judging form the maps and elevation profiles, I thought had the worst of the climb, the Cliffside section along Beaver Brook, behind me. Indeed, as far as steep climbing, I did. But for some stupid and nearly disastrous reason I thought Mt. Washington was the only mountain in the region that had killer weather on its summit. I was terribly, terribly wrong. The ascent from the Beaver Brook shelter to treeline, at 4200 feet in most places, was wet and moderately windy with gusts in the 40 MPH range. I was thoroughly soaked and sweating profusely when I reached the scrub treeline at Mt Blue. Rain was blowing sideways in huge drops.

As soon as I stepped out of the cover of the trees the wind blew fiercely and steadily at 70 to 80 MPH across the trail. Visibility was less than 50 feet as the rain changed to icy cloud mist. To make matters worse, I had to remove my eyeglasses, as they were useless in these conditions. All the heat my body had built up from the climb was instantly sucked away as I was hit with the frigid chilling blast. I had to fight and struggle to keep upright and stay on the trail, now marked by rock scree and cairns. The exposed skin on my hands and face numbed quickly. If I did not have my trekking poles to stabilize me in the wind, I would have had to crawl over the two-mile long bald and inhospitable summit on my hands and knees.

I knew I had to put on more clothes or risk severe hypothermia as I was already shivering violently. I ducked behind a large rock cairn to cut the wind. As soon as I opened my pack the water poured in. Things inside stayed mostly dry because of the plastic bags I kept things in but the clothes I took out to put on were soaked before I could get them on. Crouching low behind the rocks, I put my waterproof chaps over my soaked pants, put gloves and a heavy fleece jacket on to help cut the wind and retain my body heat. I put my rain jacket and pack back on and stepped from behind the rocks and was immediately blown over, face down onto the rocks.

I struggled to my feet and leaning 45 degrees into the wind fought my way across the rest of the summit. The wind kept trying to blow me over and rip the pack off my back. The scree trail led to a large rock pile on the very top where three trails converged and the AT changed direction. As the wind howled and pelted me with icy mist, I tried to read the signs that were there to keep me on the right trail, the AT. I struggled over the summit to treeline on the south side of the mountain after enduring the frigid blast for 45 minutes. I descended for an hour before I regained my body heat. Then I stopped and poured the water out of my boots, wrung out my socks, clothes and gloves, ate a couple of candy bars and continued on to a most welcome hostel in Glencliff, NH - my first mail resupply point.

The hostel was an airy barn/shed with mattresses on the floor, a clothes dryer and showers. It was full - full of hikers waiting for the weather to clear before they climbed Mt. Moosilauke. Smart hikers. All in all it was a good time and a nice place to dry out, call home, do laundry, and organize my mail resupply. Late afternoon thunder and lightning ushered in a cold front and clearing weather. The next morning I headed for Mt. Cube and the Hexacuba Shelter; the others headed north, up and over Mt. Moosilauke.

If you read my journal from last fall's hike you may recall the ordeal of Hurricane Floyd's remnants (9/15 through 9/17/99) when I was stranded in Glen Brook shelter on Mt. Everett, MA. One year later TO THE DAY I met Panama Red and his dog Elvis at the Hexacuba Shelter. He had been with the group I met just before climbing Mt. Everett and storm Floyd hit. He chose to wade out and was stranded in an Irish bar for four days. I never saw him after the storm until now and here he and Elvis are at Hexacuba. Amazing coincidence. We had lots to talk about around the warm campfire.

Hanover NH is a popular trail town. The AT runs right through its main street. It is also a college town and for many weary hikers a required rest and beer stop. I planned to shop at the outfitters and get a good meal and some food to go, and call home. Having done just that on a nice sunny afternoon, I walked out of town toward Vermont. Making a long story short, I took a wrong turn in town and walked about 4 miles before a very nice NH State Trooper came along, straightened me out and gave me a ride back to where I missed the trail. Duh! See? I do belong in the woods. I get lost in civilization!

I hiked to the Happy Hill Shelter in Vermont, just over the line from NH with four sauerkraut hot dogs in my pack - two for dinner and two for breakfast. I cannot say for sure, but the scent of kraut dogs may have drawn the pack of coyotes that circled and howled all night long. At any rate, they didn't bother me - I actually found it interesting listing to the distant and near by howling and the yipping of the kits. I dozed off to sleep but was awakened from time to time by the hooting of a nearby barred owl or the coyote's howls when they were real close. Vermont has so many coyotes in its northern mountains that they are a real problem for residents and farmers.

One of the many high points of this adventure was a stay at privately owned Lookout Cabin, of Lookout Farm, VT. It is a rustic simple little cabin built on top of a mountain where a fire tower once stood. It reminded me very much of my own log cabin in the woods. Lookout Cabin has a rooftop observation deck and is open to hikers as long as the farm's owners or guests are not using it. I was treated to a gorgeous sunset from its deck just before I went to bed. I could see 330 degrees of mountain horizon. It was a breathtaking location. It rained that night and I was awakened to the thump - thump - thump of large drops of water leaking through the roof onto the floor below. On the edge of the trees outside the front entrance it had a huge wasp nest - bigger than a basketball. I decided to relieve myself elsewhere.

Sherburne Pass VT. was my second resupply stop, about halfway through my adventure. The Inn at Long Trail, near Killington, was hiker friendly and had everything a weary hiker needed - shower, pub and dining room, laundry and a soft bed. I had a nice time socializing with a pair of hikers from France over an excellent meal of shepherds pie, mashed potatoes, wine and apple crisp. I ate a hearty breakfast during a rain squall, mailed my broken trekking pole back from the very unfriendly Killington Post Office, and took on Pico and Killington peaks. Much of the trail in Vermont parallels or crosses beautiful mountain streams and rivers and many ponds. And much of it is a sea of mud, especially southern VT, even in the higher elevations. It must have been a very wet, late summer in VT.

Moose evidence was everywhere along this whole hike, especially heavy in eastern Vermont. I saw lots of tracks and piles of dung, even at the higher elevations, but no moose. I also saw lots of bear sign and heard a bear trying unsuccessfully to get into our food bags, which were hung high in the trees, but saw no bear. I only caught the fleeting glimpse of two whitetail deer flags as they bounded away in VT., but I saw lots of snakes this trip. The rat snake was the largest; I saw two of them, several garter snakes, and two Eastern Smooth Green snakes, all harmless and cute.

Besides the couple from France, there was an older man from Lithuania, a young woman from Israel hiking the trail alone, two Germans, and two pair of hikers from the UK. Our AT is unique and our country is unique in the amount of wilderness it offers along a relatively developed trail. Almost all the foreign hikers I came across had read extensively about the AT on the Internet or books and almost all had read Bryson's A walk in the Woods. The AT is an American gem.

I also encountered two "trail bums" (for lack of a better term) that were hiking and scrounging their way along the trail, living off the generosity of other hikers and whatever they could cadge along the way. One was an extremely interesting character, a former bicycle messenger from NYC. The other an ill equipped young lad trying, and failing, to make it south before the bad weather set in. The young man was really just using the AT as a path to get away but I think he did not even know from what or to where he was traveling. I was happy to meet them and be able to help them both out. It was a never ending challenge and adventure from the moment I stepped aboard the Cog Railway at Mount Washington, NH until I met up with Jim Yeich over 300 trail miles later at the end of my hike near the Massachusetts Turnpike. Many thanks to Jim, my trail mentor and a fine friend, for giving me a ride home.

If you really want to understand what drives someone like me to leave all the comforts of home and loved ones behind and head for the trail, you simply must experience the joys and challenges of long distance wilderness backpacking and being an integral part of nature for yourself. Lace up your boots, shoulder your pack and hit the trail.

I have hundreds of color photographs taken on my Appalachian Trail adventures; each backpacking trip resulting in a detailed journal with hundreds of photos. My appendices are summaries of experience and learning derived from the refinement of my backpacking experiences. Perhaps, after I complete the Appalachian Trail, an AT Backpacker's manual will follow.

[Free Spirit]

Dates ........ Sunday Sept 10, 2000
Miles ........ 8.8 miles
From ........ Summit Mount Washington, NH (6288')
To ............. Crawford Notch hostel via Crawford Path
Weather ... Phenomenally clear, 60 deg F at base, 50's at summit, blue sky

Mt. Washington & Cog Railway, Lake of the Clouds and Mizpa Huts, Mounts Monroe (5385'), Franklin (5004'), Eisenhower (4761'), and Pierce (4310')

Up at 4 A.M., I drive from The Oceanside Inn at Hampton Beach NH to the Mt. Washington Cog Railroad Base Station. Finally, at 9:00 A.M., after wanting to for over 20 years, I ride the Cog Rail up to the summit of Mount Washington to start my adventure. What a unique, fantastic experience. The Cog Railroad is the only steam powered mountain climbing railroad in the world. The weather could not be better; it is a very rare, clear day. My spirits soar as I pose on the summit, about to start my trek. I visit the summit building briefly, send off a couple of postcards and grab a couple of hot dogs. Then I find the trail, get my bearings and start down. The summit is crawling with day hikers, tourists and people walking their dogs. Soon the rocky trail separates me from the crowds and my first landmark appears - Lake of the Clouds and the AMC Hut. The trail is steep and rock covered, well above treeline, which I will not see again for many miles. In rare places where there are few rocks, the trail is a clear path worn 4 to 8 inches deep into the gravel and soil. Due to the lack of trees for blazing, most of the trail along mountain ridges and the higher elevations is marked with rock scree and cairns.

Mount Washington, NH. Rock cairns and scree mark the trail to Lake of the Clouds and the AMC Hut.

In much of NH and VT, especially near the more popular mountains and ridges, the AT and other hiking trails run together. The standard white blazes and or rock markings of the AT are maintained in these areas but the name may change, for example, to Crawford Path where they run together. Throughout NH and VT, care must be taken to stay on the right trail; trail guides, maps, and paying close attention to trail signs is essential.

Rock cairns and scree lead the way down off Mount Washington along Crawford Path, past Lake of the Clouds where I stop at the hut briefly for water and sign the register, over Mt Franklin (5004'), Mt. Eisenhower (4761') and Mt. Pierce (4310'). All are above treeline. I make another quick stop at Mizpah Hut, just below treeline. There Crawford Path breaks from the AT and leads to Crawford Notch and the hostel where I am booked for the night. Being booked with reservations into the AMC hut and Hostel system is expensive and puts time constraints on the hike. AMC is not at all flexible on cancellations, rescheduling or no-shows except in extreme weather circumstances when the trails are closed. You make a reservation, you'd better be there . The huts are nice, though, the food good and the atmosphere rustic, warm, and charming. On my way down to the hostel I meet one of the hut personnel on the way up to Mizpah Hut with a heavy pack full of food and supplies. I don't envy that part of her job.

Pine forest at the base of Mount Washington, near Crawford Notch, NH

Tired but feeling ecstatic, I arrive at the Crawford Notch AMC Hostel, cook supper in their kitchen - my only "cooked" meal on this hike - shower, and chat with two college age brothers doing a section hike. The hostel is a series of little bunkhouses near a central kitchen and bathroom with shower. Some previous occupant had thoughtfully left behind a box of donuts and part of a jug of red wine. God bless him. After dessert I turn in for a very good nights sleep.

Crawford Notch AMC Hostel - Main Building

Dates ........ Monday Sept 11, 2000

Miles ........ 13.4 miles
From ........ Crawford Notch Hostel to Galehead Hut via Avalon and A-Z trail.
To ............. AT
Weather ... Cloudy, hazy, damp and mild, 55 degF, Windy.

3650' climb, Mt. Tom (4047'), Mt Guyot (4560'), South Twin Mt. (4902'), Zealand Notch, Pond, Falls and Hut, 1100' drop in 5/8 mile to Galehead Hut (3820')

On the trail by 7:30 A.M., I had a long climb ahead of me, gaining 3650 feet in elevation from 1250' Crawford Notch to the summit of South Twin Mountain (4902'). The Avalon and A-Z trail was the most direct route to link up with the AT at Zealand Pond. I saw lots of moose tracks, but no moose. The hut at Zealand Falls was empty except for staff making dinner. It was a steady, steep and rocky climb past the ingenious water pump, Zealand falls and stream, up to Zealand Ridge where the Twinway Trail and the AT run concurrently. I took a short side trail to an overlook and was rewarded with a spectacular though somewhat hazy view of Zealand Notch and the Zeacliff trail as it traversed the near vertical mountainside. There I met a pot-smoking hiker that thought the place so beautiful that he was going to stay there forever. I was content to take pictures and move on.

The steep, all rock trail climbed Zealand Ridge to Mt Guyot and South Twin Mountain. In some places the boulders or rock faces were so big they had ladders going up them. Near the summits, above treeline, the trail became a jumble of rocks and boulders. Every step had to be taken carefully. Both mountaintops were in the clouds. It was foggy and chilly damp with winds in the 40 to 50 MPH range, producing a significant wind chill factor. The clouds were not dense storm clouds and were more of a fog than the heavy mist I would (later) encounter on Mt. Moosilauke The extremely steep, treacherous and rocky climb up South Twin Mt., followed by a 5/8 mile section of trail from the peak down to Galehead Hut was the next thing to hell, dropping 1100'. It was just plain exhausting and dangerous and wore me out, sapping every last bit of energy I had left at the end of the day. The rocks were wet and slippery. Many times I had to "step" down 3 or 4 feet, some times I had to lower myself over 5 feet, trying desperately not to fall or hurt myself. Such was the trail - the only way to get there. It made the adventure. The torturous descent took over an hour.

Steep section of rocky trail leading to AMC Galehead Hut.

It was suppertime when I arrived at the hut and a warm roomful of hikers waiting to be served the hot meal of barley vegetable soup, pasta and sauce, white whole-wheat pizza, green beans and hot coffee. The din of trail talk and clattering dishes charged the atmosphere with civility and warmth. Most were eager to tell of their hair raising experiences getting to the hut. For many, not long-distance AT hikers, that was as far as they were going. After dinner, I was asleep before "lights out" at 9:30 P.M.

Hikers ready for dinner at Galehead Hut.

Dates ........ Tuesday Sept 12, 2000

Miles ........ 15.9 trail miles (8 hiked, 8 shuttle)
From ........ NH AMC Galehead Hut
To ............. Lonesome Lake Hut
Weather ... Heavy rain, high winds, warm and humid. Thunderstorms, heavy fog.

Gale River NH, Lonesome Lake

Breakfast at Galehead Hut was pancakes, eggs and sausage, oatmeal and coffee. The morning weather report carried a warning against hiking on Franconia Ridge because a storm was moving in. I took the hutkeepers advice and bypassed the dangerous (all above treeline and known for violent storms) ridge. He suggested I hike an alternate route into the valley, around the mountain base via shuttle and then hike up to Lonesome Lake, my planned (and reserved) destination. Since it was already raining heavily with a strong wind, I took his advice.

Garfield Ridge trail and upper Gale River trail started out very steep, wet, slippery, rocky and treacherous. My damn glasses kept fogging up, causing me to lose depth perception and vision. I took them off - can't see with them or without them. As I descended the mountain, the trail became more boulders and dirt then turned into a nice path in its lower section. You could see and hear the beautiful boulder strewn, fast running Gale River along most of the trail. The shuttle took a group of us around the base of the mountain and dropped us off at Lafayette State Park.

I met some nice people today - despite the rotten weather. A nice young couple from Connecticut, then a couple from Germany and a couple from Texas. The Texans were looking forward to a Cog Railroad ride up Mount Washington. The hike up to Lonesome Lake was in heavy fog, visibility less than 30 feet. You could not even see the treetops in the forest. I made it to the hut by early afternoon with time to take a sponge bath and relax. Dinner was great - homemade herb bread, beef stew of sorts, mashed potatoes, hot coffee and dessert. The hut was empty except for Sharkbait and Bill, hikers that had been taking "zero days" there, with hut keepers Kateland and Emanuel and a male hutkeeper. I had a little cabin all to myself and turned in right after supper, around dark.

Footbridge over Lonesome Lake outlet leads off into the fog, near Lonesome Lake Hut.

Dates ........ Wednesday Sept 13, 2000

Miles ........ 5.9 miles
From ........ NH AMC Lonesome Lake Hut
To ............. Eliza Brook Shelter
Weather ... Partly cloudy, breezy

In the CLOUDS, awesome woods and streams, North and South Kinsman Mountains (4293 and 4358"), Kinsman Ridge and Cliffs, Eliza Brook

There are days when you have to force yourself to hike; literally make yourself go on, put one foot in front of the other - sluggish. And there are days you are so happy and feeling so good that your spirits soar and you feel like screaming with joy. So good, you just can't describe it. Today was one of the feel good days. Long distance backpacking is fun as long as you have more feel good days than sluggish days. The morning started out with a hearty breakfast of cream of wheat, eggs, home fries, pastry, juice and coffee.

I had a very steep 2100-foot climb and even steeper 2200-foot descent ahead of me, and about a mile above treeline. I planned on hiking 15 miles, to the Beaver Brook shelter on Moosilauke but talking to some northbound hikers that had just come from there I was advised that was not sensible. They all agreed the lower trail section I would have to climb was not something to be attempted at days end when tired. Also, I had the formidable Kinsman Mountain and Ridge ahead of me. From this point on it didn't matter that much - I was not locked in to any reservations and my mail drops were all mid-week pickups. The climb up the Kinsman Mountains and ridge was rugged and challenging - typical of the White Mountains of NH. And, as the photos show, it was incredibly beautiful, unspoiled, peaceful and serene. I did sweat and huff and puff, but oh how it was worth it. About halfway up North Kinsman I met and elderly couple, both in their 70's, coming down. He was having a great time but she was scared of falling and didn't like the steep rocks. Though they had come all the way from Georgia and were doing fine, they were concerned about what was ahead of them. They were such sweet folks - and gutsy. I gave them all the encouragement I could - and they inspired me greatly.

Mountain stream trickles through forest, moss and rocks on Kinsman Mountain.

There were lots of places where steps were built into the rocks on the trail. A section of railroad tie was cut to about 18 inches long, then cut diagonally to make a step. The rock was drilled and ѕ inch steel rods were imbedded in the rock and step. In a few places there were ladders going up or down the rock face. Without these steps and ladders, ropes and rock climbing gear would be required. In other places where the rock was not quite as steep, hand and toeholds had been drilled and blasted into the rock face. This was challenging, rugged going. It was at least equal to the climb on South Twin Mountain, but far prettier.

Wood steps on a rock face

Kinsman Ridge was in and out of the clouds, windy, at times clear, at times foggy and always quite cool.

Did you ever look at those puffy white clouds in a blue sky and wonder what it was like to be up there in them, to be a part of them? Climb to a mountaintop that is in the clouds. You will see the clouds coming - and going - and you will be part of them. And you will be blessed with the freshest, cleanest balsam scented air. Truly as near Heaven as one can get on this mortal earth.

In the clouds on Kinsman Ridge. Lonesome Lake appears in left center of picture, nestled in a wooded mountain plateau.

It was so beautiful, so refreshing - and so rewarding. I screamed with happiness and joy. Looking back at Lonesome Lake from Kinsman Mountain was rewarding. Even though you KNOW you've just done it, it seems so impossible that you've just hiked through and up these mountains, that only three hours ago you were down there having breakfast.

More challenges were only footsteps away. It was a fairly mild descent off Kinsman Summit for a half-mile or so, then the trail seemed to stop at the edge of a cliff. Surely, it can't go down there - that's a cliff. But it does. Boulder hopping, lowering myself frontward and backwards, sliding, grabbing anything I can, I work my way down the cliff face of the mountain. No steps or handholds here. Sometimes it was 6 feet down to the next ledge or rock. It was a vertical descent, switchbacking and traversing 800 feet down from the top of Kinsman Mountain. Harrington Pond was at the bottom of this descent, still well up the mountain at 3400 feet elevation. Then a steep descent through the woods took me to the crystal clear waters of Eliza Brook. The trail turned and followed the watershed as its stream tumbled and carved a beautiful gorge in the mountainside.

I reached Eliza Brook Shelter about 2:30. The elevations had cut my hiking rate down to just under one mile per hour and made me reduce the expectations I had for my daily hiking mileage. I decided to stay there, do trail laundry and relax, rather than push on to the next shelter, as I probably wouldn't be able to make it before dark. As the afternoon wore on, more and more hikers came in. Sharkbait came in and left, Flavien came in all sweaty - and only wearing his briefs (underwear), Animal arrived - shirtless. It was only 55 degrees out - but it was humid and they were dripping sweat. The shelter filled with smelly through hikers and four tents were pitched in the immediate area. A NH State Arson investigator held everyone's attention with his interesting tales of how arsonists got caught - and a few of those that got away with it because of a lack of evidence or technicality. Funny, no one lit up any pot around the shelter. Animal tried his damndest to get a fire going and couldn't. I got some birch bark and dry twigs and showed him how boy scouts did it.

Tomorrow it was on to Mt. Moosilauke - the last big mountain above treeline southbound on the AT in NH's White Mountains. I didn't think I could do the 16 miles from Eliza Brook Shelter, over Moosilauke to the Jeffers Brook Shelter on the other side. There was too much climbing and "elevations" to make that kind of mileage.


Dates ........ Thursday Sept 14, 2000
Miles ........ 9.1 miles
From ........ NH Eliza Brook Shelter
To ............. Moosilauke's north slope Beaver Brook Shelter
Weather ... 48 degF, Sunny and hazy AM, cloudy upper 60's humid, muggy PM

Awesome Beaver Brook Cascades, Mt Moosilauke north slope base climb

I was first up and out of the shelter, on the trail at 7:45 as others were still sleeping, but feeling sluggish as I crossed the saddle between Kinsman and Wolf Mountains, then started the ascent of Mt. Wolf's 3478' east peak. Looking back (north) from the summit was the perfect view of the Presidential Range and Franconia Ridge. Descending Mt. Wolf. I disturbed a large Rat snake basking in the sun on the trail. He moved slowly away, his just eaten dinner resulting in a large bulge about 1/3 the way down his 5 foot length.

At Kinsman Notch, NH route 112, I satisfied my incessant urge to eat at Lost River Gorge- a tourist trap based on a river that disappears underground into a huge cavern. I fueled up on pizza, orange juice, two sauerkraut hot dogs and a Mounds bar and ordered a couple of subs to go - one for dinner, the other for tomorrow's breakfast. They gave a generous discount to through hikers. I talked to three northbounders that had just come over Moosilauke and they said the summit was a piece of cake but the section from the (Beaver Brook) shelter to NH 112 was a real treat. Energized with a full belly I headed back up route 112 to the trailhead. There a sign warned of a steep, dangerous trail - especially hazardous when wet. The inexperienced were advised to consider other trails and the experienced were admonished to proceed with caution. The signs said nothing of the raw natural beauty of the tumbling cascades and waterfalls Beaver Brook made as it raced nearly straight down the mountainside gorge.

Part of Beaver Brook cascade on Mount Moosilauke

It was a tough climb with treacherous footing. I had that point driven home to me when I met a lone hiker on his way down with a badly bruised and swollen - probably fractured- forearm in a sling. He had stepped off the trail to take a photo of a waterfall, lost his balance, fell and tumbled until being stopped by a boulder. His clothes and backpack tattered, his camera smashed, he declined my offer of assistance and headed for the nearby Lost River Gorge and medical assistance. His hike was over. The sweat poured off me as I pushed and pulled myself up the trail. Rock and wood steps, iron grab bars, tree branches, trunks and roots were all enlisted to get me there. There were spots where only a 12 inch wide ledge of rock was between you and the water filled gorge twenty feet below. I spent two sweaty hours climbing one mile and 1800 feet up to the shelter. But the Beaver Brook cascades and gorge made every agonizing foot worth it. They had plenty of water and were beautiful beyond description. The sound of the cascading water was so refreshing on this muggy day.

Another part of beaver Brook cascade on Mount Moosilauke, NH

My reward - besides the beauty of the gorge and a much-needed rest - was a glorious though somewhat haze obscured view of the Presidentials and Franconia Ridge. A few other northbound hikers stopped in for rest and water and pushed on. Later, a few more stopped and decided to stay, not wanting to risk the lower cascade trail in the dark. A very wise move I thought.

The weather forecast was not good. Another storm was coming - windy with heavy rain and thundershowers for the area, beginning early tomorrow morning. The way I was sweating and my minimalist clothing required that I do trail laundry often or smell like a black bear just out of hibernation. I did laundry, ate supper and was in bed asleep before 9 P.M. in the full shelter. Tomorrow, I conquered the last of the NH's White Mountains on the AT - Mount Moosilauke. Vermont, everyone promised, would be easier.


Dates ........ Friday Sept 15, 2000
Miles ........ 8 miles
From ........ Beaver Brook Shelter, over Mt Moosilauke
To ............. Glencliff, NH
Weather ... STORMY heavy downpours and high wind, 50 degF valleys, 35 degF elevations

Mt. Blue (4530'), Mt. Moosilauke (4802'), Glencliff Hostel

The rain began at 5 AM, just as the weatherman had promised. Steady, heavy rain in large drops, blown around by gusty wind at the lower elevations. I put on my usual hiking gear, still damp from washing it last night, knowing that it would only get wetter. The nylon shirt and pants were quite wind resistant. I put on my waterproof parka, hood up and baseball cap on to shield my glasses from the rain, strapped my pack on and began the trudge up the mountain. It was not bad going - not as steep as yesterday's grueling climb, but enough to make me overheat in the raingear and sweat buckets.

The going was slow because of the wet rocks, large puddles and steamed up glasses which caused me to lose either my essential depth perception when only one lens steamed up - or go blind entirely when they both steamed up. With my soaking wet hands, I could not clear them. There was no winning. Ever upward and onward. I was really disappointed at the weather because it was denying me the much ballyhooed and must-see views from Moosilauke's summit. And, it was making me hot and clammy.

The summit of Moosilauke is really two mountains, though the other, Mt. Blue, 4530' elevation, is rarely mentioned. It is a long summit. I broke treeline about half a mile before Mt. Blue's summit, then descended briefly before ascending Moosilauke's 4802' summit. From treeline, over the summits and back to treeline was three miles. Three miles with no trees to break the wind. On a nice, partly sunny day being in and out of the clouds is a fantastic experience. Oh how that contrasts with being in storm clouds. The difference is night and day - or, life and death.

Two minutes after I climbed above treeline the wind doubled from its gusty 30 to 40 MPH and just screamed, trying its damndest to blow me over. I went from warm and clammy to icy cold and shivering. The crosswind was blasting right through my wind resistant pants and making my gloveless hands numb and lifting my pack off my back - an area that had always stayed warm. I could not have been wetter if I had jumped fully clothed into a lake. I realized the danger. The extreme wind and wet were chilling my body faster than it could produce heat: hypothermia required fast action. The awful conditionds on the long summit were complicated by the fact I could hardly see. Glasses on or off, visibility was less than 50 feet in the heavy clouds

When I entered the clouds the rain became a dense but equally wet heavy cloud mist blown by gale force winds. I can't even see from cairn to cairn (trail markers) and can barely stay upright and follow the rock scree along the trail. On the actual summit, three trails came together in a confusing jumble of rocks.

After a few tense moments, when I thought about turning back, I saw a large mound of rocks - an oversize cairn or some kind of crude shelter or windbreak looming in the fog ahead. I ducked behind it. It cut the wind to a tolerable level. The whistling and screaming of the wind hitting the rocks was a sound I never heard before and will never forget. Water condensed and ran in streams down the back side of the rock pile. I had to get more clothes on, hold in my body heat and stave off that icy chill and creaming wind. Inside my pack, everything was stored in thin plastic trash bags. I was able to get out my wind and waterproof chaps, gloves, knit wool hat, and fleece jacket without soaking everything else in the pack. But the clothes I was putting on were soaked as soon as they came out of the plastic bag. I put them on, summoned all the determination I had and pushed out from behind the rock pile.

Wham. The wind blew me right over, plunging my face into the wet, cold rocks. It must have been comical - but I was too scared to laugh. I needed to focus on getting the hell pout of here. I crawled and struggled up, planted my poles and pushed on. Each time I lifted one of my poles to move it ahead the wind blew it sideways. If I relaxed my grip even for a second, my trekking pole would blow into a near horizontal position. It took a concentrated, firm grip to correct it and plant it where it would stabilize me. I was leaning heavily into the left pole and using the right to keep me from blowing over again. To imagine what this is like, try holding your arm straight out a car window at 70 MPH. My pack cover was acting like a parasail, collecting the wind, ballooning out and trying to pull the pack off my back or pull me over. I don't know how it managed to stay on.

With more clothes on it became a matter of pushing on and getting there. I no longer felt as though all my body heat was being sucked away. I still had to fight the wind and lack of visibility and keep from losing the trail. This experience taught me - fleece and wool ARE still warm when wet - as long as the wind does not get through them.

At the summit I saw a big rock pile with wooden signs sticking out of it, barely visible in the fog. When I struggled close enough to read them, I could see they pointed out a change in direction of the AT. I turned and followed the scree path. Soon I saw treeline on the other side. I hiked down, quite steeply for about an hour before I regained enough body heat to stop and wring my clothes out and pour the water from my hiking boots. It seemed to make little sense, really, now back in the pouring rain. But I was out of that fierce wind. I ate a couple of candy bars for energy and pushed on. The Moosilauke ordeal was over. It sure reinforced my appreciation of the comforts of home.

I bypassed the Jeffers Brook Shelter at the base of the mountain's southern slope and went right into Glencliff for my resupply. The post office was all set up for hikers with an outdoor packing and receiving area, including tools and supplies under a porch roof. And they were very nice, hiker friendly people.

Right across from the post office was a hostel. It was a very casual, laid back operation. I checked in, more or less. They had an outdoor, open-air shower, a washer and dryer and a roof over my head. The hostel was full of (smart) hikers waiting out the storm. I called home, reorganized my pack with my fresh supplies and dried out. It felt so good to be out of the rain and dry again. About 6 PM there was lots of thunder and lightning as the tail end of the storm front came through and cleared the clouds away. Many of the hikers rode into town for supplies, beer and entertainment. I got my gear ready for the next day. I met a lot of other nice hikers there, and some real characters. I met "BO", aka Screamer. He was a penniless, unemployed, ill equipped hiker that somehow was working his way northbound on the AT. A former NY City bike messenger turned trail bum, he lived from hiker box to hiker box, on the generosity of other hikers, and dumpster diving. He acted like he dropped one acid tab too many but was a harmless and likeable sort of fellow. I was happy to give him my surplus food and trail mix. He livened up the evening, to be sure. Soleman, a nice hiker about my age, shared a meat loaf with me and bought some bread and butter for Screamer. Soleman and I reflected on the generation gap present at the shelter as we listened to music and observed partying that was not of our choosing. Now warm and dry, my hunger satisfied, I turned in early while most of the others stayed up and talked, played music and drank beer.

Drying out at Glencliff "Hikers Welcome" hostel.

Dates ........ Saturday Sept 16, 2000

Miles ........ 14.7 miles
From ........ Glencliff NH hostel
To ............. Hexacuba Shelter (MT Cube NH)
Weather ... Mostly cloudy, 50 degF

Wachipauka Pond, Mt. Mist (2220'), Mt Cube (2911')

It was cool, at times chilly hiking today, never getting above 50 degrees, and it was windy - but nothing like yesterday. I had my hiking rhythm going strong and was feeling good - all dried out and rested. My pack was heavier with the resupply of food but still very comfortable. Even though the major mountains of the NH Whites were now behind me, I still had some good climbs ahead - 1200' coming out of the Glencliff NH valley, then dropping back down 1200'with a couple of 500'ascents, then climbing nearly 2000'to Mt. Cube, ascending 3300' in all.

Wachipauka Pond was beautiful - a little gem of sparkling water nestled in a valley, surrounded by lush green hillsides and completely undeveloped - no roads or houses. Mount Mist proved to be not nearly as challenging as the elevation profile on the map showed. It was a pleasant, gradual climb rather than the steep vertical shown. At the summit was a sign " Mt. Mist Summit - No Summit Sex" with the "No" crossed out. From there it was a fast glide to the brand new Ore Hill Shelter where I stopped for a break.

I hiked down into the Rt 25A valley, where I met several nice day hikers, one of them offering me fresh green beans, and up again to Mt. Cube. Mt Cube was mostly a bald rock top, not because it was above treeline but because of the masses of solid impenetrable and super hard granite on its top. My hiking stick's carbide tip just slid along, failing completely to get a bite on the smooth rock.

View from top of Mount Cube, NH

Its about 1.25 miles from the summit to the hexagonally shaped shelter, nestled on a hillside. There I saw Sharkbait - he had passed me on the way up - and two other hikers sitting around a roaring blaze of a campfire. I was greeted by a barking dog that looked strangely familiar. I joined the others by the fire, which was fueled by fresh chopped 4-inch maple logs. It felt good. Introductions were made - Bellows and Panama and the dog Elvis - as soon as I heard Panama and Elvis it Clicked - Panama and Elvis were none other than the Panama Red and Elvis I had met exactly one year ago near the Tom Leonard Shelter in Mass. I was hiking up to Mt Bushnell with Quick Beam and they warned us of a big storm coming our way. Panama Red and Elvis waded and swam out to an Irish pub where they were stranded for 3 or 4 days and I continued to the Glen Brook Shelter where I was stranded for 2 days by Hurricane Floyd's remnants. WHAT A COINCIDENCE meeting them again HERE, a year later!

We sat around the fire, talked, ate supper and went to bed. No hurricanes or big storms tonight.

[Free Spirit]

Dates ........ Sunday Sept 17, 2000
Miles ........ 17.9 miles
From ........ NH Mt Cube - Hexacuba Shelter
To ............. Moose Mountain Shelter
Weather ... Cold, cloudy, snow flurries AM, partly cloudy to clearing, near 50 degF PM.

Smarts Mountain (3240') and Firewardens Cabin - first snowflakes - Holt's Ledges, Moose Mountain North peak and ridge (2300 and 1987')

I slept well but started out sluggish on this very chilly morning. As I crossed the swaying bridge over the creek I could hear the sound of an axe biting into a log. A NPS Forest Ranger worked on clearing a large blowdown from the trail. I thanked him, and asked why so many of the trees along this part of the trail were axe cut instead of chain saw cut. He explained that Forest Service rules require at least two people be present when a chain saw is used. Besides, he loved being in the woods and was in no hurry.

Bridge over South Jacobs Brook at the base of Mt Cube NH.

I climbed steadily and gently to Smarts Mountain's 3240' summit where it started to sleet and spit snow flurries. I took a break in the fire wardens cabin/hiker's shelter and pushed on down the other side of the mountain. I met a father son hiking team, dad was dropping his son off at Hanover for college and they were enjoying a hike together.

Climbing the hill after the Dartmouth Skiway, just before the Trapper John Shelter, I came upon a most unusual hiker. He had his sleeping bag rolled around a stick and covered with a plastic bag, and slung over his shoulder, much like a hobo. He was carrying two large plastic bags of what appeared to be groceries in his free hand as he struggled up the hill without a backpack. His pants, regular street clothes, were filthy and tattered and what remained of his sneakers barely covered his feet.

He was a young kid - just out of high school, maybe, with a sad story to tell; of wanting to hike the AT but failing, of not being prepared or properly equipped, and not having the means (money). He had just come from a local church that helped him contact his parents, arrange a bus ticket home, and had just bought him some food. He had no money. He was heading to the Trapper John Shelter to wait a few days for the bus. His dream of hiking the AT was over - for now. But with a glint of hope in his sparkling eyes, he said he would get the right gear and start again - someday. He was disappointed but not broken. I liked his spirit. I wished him well and gave him some money for his journey home.

I passed up the Trapper John Shelter and its 0.2-mile side trail in the interest of making more miles - before dark. I still had to climb to Holt's Ledge, descend to Goose Pond Road and climb Moose Mountain and its long ridge. Holts Ledge was a vertical cliff face of solid rock 500 feet high. The AT came to it and turned abruptly south. It's one turn you did not want to miss and it could be fatal in the dark. The trail goes right along the edge and top of the ledges then drops through a beautiful pine forest, into some hardwoods and the valley.

I saw a note stuck on a branch - WARNING - BEES on RIGHT. I saw the nest and ran by, stopping a safe distance away. I felt something under my foot and I was standing on a little rat snake. He was squirming feverishly, trying to get out from under my boot. I immediately lifted the oppressing weight off him, apologized and hoped he wasn't hurt. He gave me a dirty look then slithered off into the brush. I felt so bad - poor little thing.

I was tired and low on water - not conditions favorable for climbing with a pack on your back- when I arrived at the base of Moose Mountain. It was about 4:20 PM and still had 4 miles to go - half of it up the mountain. I pushed on. The climb wasn't bad - just tiring. At 5:15 PM I reached the North Peak. At least it was level or downhill from here, but I worried that it was getting dark soon. Hiking after dark is not my style; neither is sleeping under the stars without water. Along the ridge I saw lots of moose tracks and a fresh pile of dung. I wondered aloud (somebody hearing me would have sent for the guys in the white coats) what the hell is a lowland inhabiting, water-plant eating creature doing at this elevation?

Spine of the Appalachian Mountains - ridge trail between North and South Moose Mountain.

Finally I reached the side trail to the shelter - another half mile to go. Out of water and out of energy and daylight, I needed that shelter. When I arrived I found I had the decrepit old place to myself. I could see why. The shelter floor was sagging badly toward center and it was filthy and in a general state of disrepair. Hikers spread the word very effectively about this sort of thing. The shelter register entries were disparaging and sparse. Oh well, it was a rusty roof over my head and a welcome water source. I filled up on water from the stream in the valley below the shelter. It was nearly dark and the trail was very muddy. As I retuned to the shelter I noticed that my tracks in front of the shelter had been covered over by fresh moose tracks. My hope for a sighting was kindled but diminished by the darkness that fell rapidly. I was so close yet so far. I set about my evening priorities: bathe, eat and sleep. Surrounded by abundant firewood, I allowed myself the luxury of a campfire to heat enough water for my bath and a couple cups of hot tea. I took my sponge bath by flashlight in a chilly drizzle of light rain. My lightweight aluminum pot, carried for just such a purpose, served me well.

I felt very weary and lonesome but good about the distance I had hiked. I fell asleep quickly knowing that tomorrow I would be in Hanover where I could fill my belly with good food and call home.


Dates ........ Monday Sept 18, 2000
Miles ........ 16.6 miles
From ........ NH Moose Mountain Shelter
To ............. VT Happy Hill Shelter
Weather ... Sunny, 42 degF AM. Clearing, nice warm afternoon

Moose Mt. South Peak (2222'), Dartmouth College and Hanover NH, NH-VT State Line,

Anxious to get to Hanover and some civilization and all its fineries, and cross from New Hampshire into Vermont, I was out of the shelter and on the trail by 7:30 AM. It was a beautiful sunrise and I felt full of energy; a great way to start a day. Trail bike ruts marred the old logging road into the shelter and continued onto South Peak and down the AT. The one or two trail bikes that had recently torn through here, despite clear postings indicating the only legal use of the AT was as a foot trail, had done considerable damage, especially the erosion control diversions. No doubt testosterone filled adolescents being inconsiderate jerks - a common affliction for the male species. Otherwise, the trail was beautiful and invigorating as it descended the mountain. In less than 11 miles, I'd be in Hanover.

Autumn meadow and trail just before Hanover, NH.

I diverted to the old AT as it went along Hanover's water supply and some ponds. It was a beautiful area and loaded with fresh moose tracks. The AT goes right into Hanover, straight past the beautiful Dartmouth College campus and right across the Connecticut River into Vermont. I diverted mid town for some fine eating in the oft mentioned and much revered EBA (Everything But Anchovies) restaurant. There I had a splendid bowl of New England clam chowder, a grand and great burger smothered with sautйed onions and mushrooms and a giant orange juice. Outside, I got six kraut dogs from a street vendor (two I ate and four I saved for dinner and breakfast) before I called home. I mailed back the trail guide and map sections that I no longer needed, along with a small chunk of Cube Mountain. I reveled in the civilization - school was just starting and the streets and shops were bustling with college kids and their parents. Had I stayed another day I could have attended a book signing appearance by Bill Bryson, local resident and author of the infamous A Walk in the Woods. But I had to hike a full day to make up for what I lost in NH's Whites.

I continued out of town on Hanover's South Main Street, assured by several residents that I was headed toward Vermont. After walking about three miles and not crossing the Connecticut River, I knew something was wrong. A NH State Trooper happened by, I flagged him down, and we looked at the map and decided I was not in the right place. He very kindly gave me a ride back into town, over the bridge into Vermont. He was very nice fellow. I was headed to Vermont all right, but at a point 10 miles below the AT. Don't it figure - I get lost in town - not the wilderness. Guess I'm not cut out for civilization.

I hiked up the road to Norwich Vermont, a cute little town with a school and playground on the trail and its main street. It was such a quaint, picturesque scene right out of Courier and Ives with little children playing noisily in the crisp autumn air. I filled my water bottle and drank up at the fountain alongside the gazebo.

The trail turned off Main Street and headed up a side street that went steeply into the mountains. As I hiked steadily, I shared a pleasant conversation with a nice young lady, out for her daily walk. I hike up the hill past real nice homes into the forest of mixed hardwoods.

I got to Happy Hill Shelter, a real neat two-story stone and log shelter, quite new. I have it all to myself. The first order of business, as usual, is to get water. I go to the designated place, a stream behind the shelter and it is dry, save for a few damp spots. I head upstream until I find a pocket deep enough to provide wash, laundry and drinking water. I wash a few items of clothing, take my sponge bath and fill my water bottle by dipping small amounts of water from the pool. Mosquitoes are everywhere and for the first time on the trip I have to use bug repellant.

Happy Hill shelter near Norwich, VT.

I want a cup of tea with my kraut dogs so I build a small twig fire to burn trash and heat the water, as it gets dark. I laugh out loud as I read some of the register entries while having my delicious kraut dog supper. I have to copy these down and put them in my journal.

I hang my food - the pack reeks of hot dogs and sauerkraut - brush my teeth and turn in for the night. I sleep in the open lower deck, watching the flickering flames of the fire die. Just about asleep at 9:30 I hear a coyote howl - real close. Then another, and another, and some pups yipping. They are so close I can hear their feet rustling through the leaves as they circle the shelter. Must be they want my hot dogs too - but they can't have them. I know they are too timid to approach humans - once they realize a human is here along with the hot dogs, they will keep their distance - and they did. But the howling kept up all night. In the distance I also hear a barred owl calling. It's so wonderful to be out here and a part of nature.


Dates ........ Tuesday Sept 19, 2000
Miles ........ 23 miles
From ........ Vermont Happy Hill Shelter
To ............. The Lookout
Weather ... Cloudy, foggy AM 52degF, warm and humid afternoon, showers overnight

West Hartford NH, The Lookout

I hiked, and hiked some more, putting in mile after mile after mile. Hiking is what you do on a long distance AT backpacking trip. Hike mile after mile until you reach shelter or can hike no more.

I was up well before the crack of dawn, refreshed and eager to hit the trail. I ate breakfast, packed up and started hiking and get into the rhythm early. It's a pleasant day, just right for making the miles and there is a tremendous difference in the terrain, crossing the Connecticut River from New Hampshire's mountains into Vermont. Until Killington Mountain, for the next 43 miles, there are no elevations above 2800 feet and the ascents are gradual.

Before I know it I'm in West Hartford at a cute little country store that tries to sell everything from auto parts and diapers to food. I take time out for some chocolate milk (now, I'd never drink that at home - and I haven't had it since I was a kid), an egg salad sandwich and a pastry. While I'm eating the owner, manager and cook makes me a couple of subs to go. I try to call home but there is no answer. I push on, across the White river and up over Bunker Hill, past Thistle Hill Shelter. Past South Pomfret I climb the switchbacks leading to Dana Hill and descend to Route 12.

There I meet up with a day hiker that shares some fresh fruit and water with me and I meet "Hmmm" - a through hiker that is struggling with a grossly overweight pack. We discuss the merits of a light pack and push up over the hill. It is a gradual 1000 foot climb to the next shelter. It's hazy, humid and I am sweating profusely and drinking an awful lot of water. From a hilltop vista you can see the rich green rolling hills and farmland of Vermont - in sharp contrast to the craggy rugged mountains of New Hampshire. Its as if you've crossed into a different country. At Wintturi Shelter I decide to push on to The Lookout, a privately owned cabin and former fire tower site that is reportedly available to AT hikers. I'm only a little tired, really - more thirsty then tired. I treat some water from the stream, drink up, chat briefly with Hmmmm who has now caught up with me, and push on. After climbing most of the Pinnacle's 2558 feet, it is a long, mostly level walk along a woods road to the Lookout's side trail. At the lookout, I am in awe at the view. Even though hazy, it is spectacular beyond words. The cabin itself is a simple little wood frame one-story cabin with loft, fireplace and an observation deck built on its roof. There is no water, electric or privy. Hikers are welcome but admonished not to build any kind of fire and to leave it clean. I am the only soul here. It is very nice of the Pete's, owners of the Lookout Farm extending from here to the valley below, to make this beautiful spot available to hikers.

The Lookout - Lookout farm, VT

I hang my sweaty clothes on the porch to air out and enjoy the roast beef sub and orange/carrot juice I have carried since West Hartford. I look for a suitable location to tend to nature's call and nearly squat on a huge wasp nest in the brush. I find another location in a hurry. I take some panoramic photos from the deck and get ready to turn in, completely worn out, my feet aching. The sunset is phenomenally beautiful, so I put on some clothes - its much cooler now - and climb to the rooftop deck for a last photo.

Overnight there are showers. The roof leaks in several places and the water drops make a drumming sound as they fall to the floor. I check that my gear is in a dry spot and fall back to sleep.



Dates ........ Wednesday Sept 20, 2000
Miles ........ 14.9 miles
From ........ Vermont Lookout
To ............. Inn at Long Trail, Sherburne Pass, Rt 4, Killington VT
Weather ... Foggy, cool AM, Damp and humid, hazy, warm. 60's-70

Kent Pond, Gifford Woods State Park, Inn at Long Trail

Morning mist in Vermont's Green Mountains seen from the Lookout.

The morning fog and mist is hanging around, burning off very slowly and making the hiking uncomfortable. It almost like hiking in the tropics. Very muggy. There was no water at The Lookout so I was not able to take my sponge bath - which I needed badly.

When I came to the clear, cold rushing waters of Stony Brook I succumbed to their irresistible invitation. I took my clothes off and washed them and myself, relishing the cool, refreshing water - even if only for a few moments. Invigorated, and smelling much better, I pushed on. I met Fun Gal and Pepperhead, claiming to be the last of the AT Northbounders.

Small cascade on Kent Brook.

Vermont is a lot less rocky, in general, than New Hampshire. Still, there are places where the rocks will challenge you and even a few places where they put ladders. (Seriously - after coming down NH's South Kinsman Mountain without ladders, the ladders in Vermont are more of a luxury than necessity). Sometimes the trail was so smooth that I got carried away with myself and went faster than I should. Gliding along in a fast rhythmic stride, I was going down a gentle incline when I slipped on the soft dirt and pine needle trail. I put my weight on my trekking pole to break my fall and SNAP - THUD - the pole snapped in two and down I went. I cut a stick and proceeded with one high tech trekking pole and one of nature's finest.

So far on this trip I have not had any knee pain and I have not had to use Ibuprofen. I credit that mostly to using two hiking sticks, good boots, pre-hike conditioning, and long term use of glucosamine sulfate supplements. I love my trekking poles and have come to rely upon them. I am going to miss my broken stick.

I smelled food cooking long before I reached Route 4 and Sherburne Pass. Now Vermont's Long Trail and the AT are combined - one trail - until the Long Trail's southern terminus at the Massachusetts border.

The Inn at Long Trail was a much-needed oasis. Good food, a real bed, shower, laundry and a chance to call home. I showered, and then had shepherd pie, mashed potato, apple crisp and two large glasses of red wine for dinner, did my laundry, got my resupply package and reorganized my pack. I met several other hikers there, one form France and one from Belgium, hiking the AT north in sections. There were also several other Long Trail hikers there and some garden variety tourists. I put extra items in the hiker box; packed the maps, trail guides and exposed film, and my broken trekking pole to send home, and went to bed.


Dates ........ Thursday Sept 21, 2000
Miles ........ 15.7 miles
From ........ VT Inn at Long Trail, US4, Sherburne Pass
To ............. Clarendon Shelter
Weather ... Gusty wind and rain AM, 40-50's day, windy, cool. damp

Pico (3957') and Killington (4235') Peaks, VT's Coolidge range

The morning started out stormy with gloomy weather and a forecast for more of the same. I did not relish the prospect of starting out wet. I had a nice hearty breakfast at the inn and nursed some coffee until it cleared somewhat then donned my raingear and hiked 1.5 miles down Rt. 4 to the post office. There I got the absolute unfriendliest service - downright most un-helpful service - that I have ever gotten from any post office (and I even looked and smelled decent!). I mailed my parcel back and got a ride back to the inn from a local resident headed that way.

The AT had just been relocated west of Sherburne Pass but I took the old AT, now called the Sherburne Pass Trail. It is a direct route up Pico Mountain, steeper, but considerably shorter and much more convenient to my resupply and lodging. It links up with the new AT just past Pico Peak's summit. On the way up there were two huge sinkholes; one right on the trail that had evidently swallowed up a pole meant to mark its hazard and the other a few feet away where an entire stream disappeared and ran beneath the trail. At one point near the summit, the hiking trail joins the ski trail and I looked back into the valley and could see the inn and the area I hiked yesterday.

Looking down Pico Peak ski trail to Sherburne Pass, Vermont.

Pico Camp was an interesting porcupine eaten little shack on the mountain with bunks. It had a nice piped spring where I took water and drank it untreated. The view was great but it was cold and windy so I moved on quickly. From Pico it was a saddle and traverse to Killington and the stone and log Cooper Lodge on its summit.

It never warmed up during the day - in fact, it got cooler. Most of the day was in the 40's and that was OK for hiking as long as I kept moving. The trail was wet, muddy and slippery, but not real rocky.

The last few miles to the shelter seemed to take forever. I was traveling more or less with Graylock, whom I met at the inn. He was behind me, hiking the long Trail (LT), not able to keep my pace. He was 20 years younger than I but hiked without sticks. It was getting dark fast as I approached and finally found the airport beacon, its light not yet on. At the stream crossing there were no trail markers to the shelter. I found it only because I knew from the guidebook where to turn off the trail.

At the shelter was Brian, a college age hiker was preparing his dinner. It turned dark and Graylock was still out there somewhere. I put a sign at the trail crossing and returned to the shelter. Forty minutes later Graylock caught up. The three of us chatted, ate supper and turned in before 9 PM so the shelter mice could get an early start running all over us. Barred owls called to one another in the night.


Dates ........ Friday Sept 22, 2000
Miles ........ 13.1 miles
From ........ Clarenden (VT) Shelter
To ............. Little Rock Pond Shelter
Weather ... Upper 40's, breezy, cloudy

Clarendon Gorge, Bear Mtn (2210'), White Rocks Mtn (2680')

This was my first of many $5.00 FEES for shelters in Vermont. The fee is to cover GMC caretakers and associated costs. It is the only place on the trail so far I have paid a fee at a shelter. I think it is wrong. Other states - NH, MA, CT, NY, NJ, PA, WV, VA, to name a few - do not charge fees to AT hikers. It is the National Scenic Trail, operated by the National Park System, and it should be FREE to all long distance hikers that use it. A $5.00 donation I might give, but I strenuously object to a mandatory FEE. Especially when the shelters and trails are in no better condition than other (free) shelters and they(GMC) don't even put toilet paper in the privies.

Graylock and I got an early start. We skipped breakfast, packed and were on the trail by 7:45. As we got to the hillsides above Clarendon Gorge we could see the airfield and gorge clearly. Later, the trail would take us over the gorge on a suspension bridge. We stashed our packs in the brush along the trail, hiked out to VT 103 and walked down to the Whistle Stop restaurant - a cute little diner made out of a railroad car and caboose. We had a hearty breakfast and got some sandwiches to go, returned to our packs, crossed the impressive Mill River and Clarendon Gorge and continued on at 9:30 AM.

Looking down toward Clarendon Gorge from nearby hillside

Hiker crosses suspension bridge over Mill River at Clarendon Gorge

The next hilltop gave us an exiting panorama of the valley below. I noticed the maple leaves turning a funny, pale shade of yellow-brown instead of their usual fall colors. In fact, most of them should still be green now. Close examination revealed the maples, and some other trees, were suffering from some kind of infestation that ate many small round holes in the leaves causing them to die and drop early. The "holes" contained small larva or insects of some sort sandwiched in them, on the ground. It looked widespread and serious enough to have an impact on the fall foliage.

We took a break at the Minerva Hinchey Shelter, then ascended Bear Mountain (2210'), crossed VT 140 and Roaring Brook (on a brand new suspension bridge) , then began the climb up White Rocks Mountain. On the way up we met a Green Mountain Club (GMC) shelter caretaker and a couple of day hikers. White Rocks Mountain was a tedious climb. I took the side trail to the vista / overlook - and regretted it. Though the view was very nice, the trail there was marked by battleship gray paint blazes - the same color as the rocks and it was a difficult trail to follow.

When I returned to the AT, Graylock had just arrived. We ate lunch, had our pictures taken by some day hikers (good thing they don't have 'scratch-n-sniff) and went on, down the mountain to the Little Rock Pond Shelter. When I got there, Hoppin Hoosier and Slowfoot were there. Graylock came along later. Slow foot's pack was adorned with every kind of hiking patch and insignia imaginable, and some that weren't. He was a grand story teller - telling us of the day he hiked 75 miles in 24 hours, for example. He made his stories even more interesting with almost constant use of the "F" word. All kinds of characters on the trail. All kinds.

I enjoyed the sandwiches from the Whistle Stop and settled in for the night. Slowfoot built and maintained a big smoky fire, which kept the insects out of the shelter. After the pretty little caretaker came by to collect the GMC's fee, Slowfoot's topic of conversation became an overly avid description of what he imagined he'd like to do with a pretty girl like that. Sorry, but I managed to doze off before the final bell tolled on that story. It rained overnight, ensuring a damp and soggy trail tomorrow.


Dates ........ Saturday Sept 23, 2000
Miles ........ 12.5 miles
From ........ VT - Little Rock Pond Shelter
To ............. Peru Peak Shelter
Weather ... Rain overnight; cool hi 40's-lo 50's, cloudy- overcast, rainy

Little Rock Pond, Big Branch Creek, Lake Brook, Griffith Lake

After last night's rain, the trail was in bad shape - wet and muddy in most places. From the shelter I hiked to Little Rock Pond and visited the brand new Lula Tye Shelter, then along little Black Branch Brook and upstream along Big Branch to the shelter there where I met a hiker and his dog. Big branch is a beautiful rock and boulder strewn rushing stream. I crossed the suspension bridge - a most interesting piece of work itself - and decided to take the Old Job Trail along Lake Brook up to Griffith Lake.

Lake Brook along the old AT - now called the Old Job Trail.

I was rewarded for this by having a wider, drier but somewhat longer trail that ran along the most beautiful mountain stream for almost its entire length. As I hiked all I could hear was rushing water. Oh, it was beautiful beyond description. It was so beautiful that it lifted my spirits on this gloomy day. It was a very gradual but steady climb in elevation along the stream to Griffith Lake, where it was so boggy and muddy that most of the trail was on bog bridges (thank you!). I met some day hikers slogging about, hoping to get some early fall foliage pictures and avoid the crowds. Well, they were definitely accomplishing the latter. Bog bridging, incidentally, is not installed to save hikers feet or boots, it is installed to prevent erosion and wear on sensitive areas of the trail.

Griffith Lake showing early fall colors in Vermont.

The Peru Peak Shelter was another brand new shelter with no toilet paper in its privy and a $5.00 fee for the privilege of hiking to and using it. I arrived there about 1:00 PM and was going to lunch and move on to Bromley mountain, another 7 or so miles, where it was rumored that there was a warming hut on top of the ski center complete with microwave, running water, gas heat and a telephone. Nothing was said of this in my guidebook or the map so it was a bit of a gamble. The next shelter beyond Bromley was another 9 miles - I was not up to that - a total of 25 miles of mud, rock and a couple of mountains over 3000 feet high. No way.

I ate lunch, saddled up and started out when the skies opened up in a big way. I went back to the shelter to wait out the downpour. It rained hard for over an hour, then became a steady drizzle for another hour or so. I decided to stay there since I was a day ahead of schedule. I've had all the hiking in the rain that I need this year, thank you. A senior hiker, a Lithuanian named Pappy, Geoff, a hiker trying out some new gear, and Graylock came along. Shortly afterward the caretaker came for her money and brought a young female hiker to stay with us. A nice girl, the rude comments about fantasies of intimacy with the caretaker (caretakers are all young and pretty, somehow) were mercifully avoided. The trail talk was lively, with Geoff asking many questions about gear and technique and Pappy and I all too eager to give a willing ear the advice.

Pappy cooked me up some tea water, we all cooked and ate our suppers, after which Graylock lit up a joint and I insisted he take it outside. That ruffled his feathers a bit. It rained on and off all evening and overnight. It'll be another soggy day tomorrow.

[Free Spirit]

Dates ........ Sunday Sept 24, 2000
Miles ........ 15.5 miles
From ........ VT- Peru Peak Shelter
To ............. William B Douglass Shelter
Weather ... WET, cold, foggy, rain AM, 40's all day. Cloudy, overcast PM

Spruce Peak (2060'), Prospect Rock (2079')

Miserable, wet and sloppy sums it up nicely. And the trail is very poorly marked, especially on summits where many trails come together. So much for GMC's $5.00 fee supporting trail improvement. These are the worst trails I have been on in nearly 1,000 miles of the AT. I follow the most worn, the muddiest - the one with the deepest puddles. The climb over Peru and Styles Peaks was not bad except for the sloppy mud and water everywhere. No sense even trying to keep dry - trailside brush is just waiting to paint you with water. No views, heavy fog at elevations. Keep plugging along with thoughts of a warm, dry home at the end of this hike, now one week or less away. And I hope I still have some nice weather and enjoyable scenery ahead of me. I hike on hope.

At Mad Tom Notch (2446') I fill my water bottle from the pump. It is foggy and misting. I move on, beginning my ascent of Bromley Mountain, only about 750 feet higher than the notch. With these sloppy trail conditions, it is a much more difficult and miserable climb than it would normally be. The higher I get, the colder and foggier it gets.

Finally I reach the summit of Bromley and there, looming in the fog is the outline of a building. It is open; I go in. It has a register, table, sink - no plumbing, no electric (all turned off and lights removed), a gas hookup to nothing (there once was a stove and or heater) and a telephone on the wall. Not exactly as billed, but with trail conditions as they were, I'm glad I did not push on to here last night. I'm glad for the roof and four dry walls and I'm out of the cold, wet blowing mist. The phone works! I call home on a credit card - no answer. I leave a message and move on.

Inside the Bromley Warming hut.

Outside again, the visibility is 30 feet or so. I find the trail and head down one of the ski slopes and into the woods. There, at least the wind diminishes and it feels much warmer. Honestly - right about now, I'd rather be home. Warm, dry and home. But I am in the middle of Vermont and I must make the most of it.

I descend Bromley and head to Spruce Peak. The trail levels out with only minor elevation changes but plenty of mud puddles. I'm still seeing lots of moose track and sign - but no moose. After Spruce Peak I come to Prospect Rock where the trail turns and follows a woods road east. The view over Downer Glen into Manchester and Manchester Depot is gorgeous, albeit hazy. AT least it is starting to dry out a bit.

View from Prospect Rock - over Downer Glen into Manchester and Manchester Depot. Note clearing in far hillside just left of photo center.

At the shelter I get water - its dribbling in from a piped spring - and gather firewood. I use birch bark, pine twigs and Boy Scout ingenuity to start a fire with the wet wood. Having left my sneakers at the Glencliff hostel (dumb!), I have to hop around on the cold stones barefoot while I dry my boots and make tea over the fire. I have to be very careful - if I destroy my hiking boots while trying to dry them out, that will be the end of my hike. I have the shelter to myself - and the mice. I set the mousetrap near my pack, cook supper and snuggle into my warm, dry sleeping bag. It's the best I've felt all day. Tomorrow I mark my 1000th AT mile.

Dates ........ Monday Sept 25, 2000

Miles ........ 20.9 miles
From ........ VT- William B Douglas shelter
To ............. Caughnawaga Shelter via Stratton Pond Trail.
Weather ... Heavy frost 26 degF in AM, clear. Cool, 40's Am, 50's PM.

Winhall River, Stratton Pond (2555'), Stratton Mt. (3936'), Lost Pond (2620')

1,000 Appalachian Trail Miles will be behind me when I finish this day's hike. I'll celebrate at the next town.

COLD. My wet clothes were frozen and I had skim ice in my water bottle inside the shelter. A long-tailed brown mouse was in my trap. Better there than in my pack.

It was 26 degrees at sunrise. After breakfast and trying to pack up without leaving my warm sleeping bag, I put my cold, wet clothes on knowing that they, and I, will warm up as soon as I start hiking. It is nice to see blue sky again. There is very little elevation change as I hike to Stratton Pond - but the trail is a mass of mud. Yuk! The old beam and log footbridge over the Winhall River looks as if it will fall in at any moment. It bounces and sways as I gingerly cross it. Stratton pond is pretty, the leaves along its shore are showing the first tinges of fall color. I visit the brand new Vondell Shelter but cannot find the listed water source there so I treat water from a nearby stream.

The Stratton Pond Trail around the base of Stratton Mountain is dry and nearly level - I have my two stick rhythm thing going and I cover the nearly 4 miles in just over an hour. My spirits are high after the last two days of gloom. I meet another German couple on the trail.

Stratton Pond.

It's a bit of a climb to Story Spring Shelter. I get there about 3:30 PM and decide to push on to Caughnawaga or Kid Gore shelters after talking with a spry, good spirited one-eyed hiker. Near Lost Pond I meet a one-armed hiker, having a great time. Meeting these two hikers was an inspiration to me. Today is quite clear - and cool - and the change in foliage colors is noticeable.

Fall colors from a lookout near Caughnawaga Shelter. Prospect rock is on top of ridge in right; clearing on hillside are left of notch is same clearing seen in yesterday's photo. A days hike away.

At Caughnawaga shelter I can hear party animal noises - boisterous talking and laughter coming from the nearby Kid Gore Shelter, so I decide to stay in the old run-down, porcupine-eaten Caughnawaga shelter. It is near water, much more peaceful, and will serve my purpose.

Caughnawaga Shelter

I cut the calf of my leg on its worn sheet metal edging - put there to discourage hungry porcupines from eating the shelter completely. It was cold out - near sunset and only 40 degF but I took a much-needed sponge bath in the even colder stream, washed some hiking clothes and had supper. Big mistake - It got even colder out, dropping into the 20's . I never fully recovered from the chill of the sponge bath and could not get warm until, in the middle of the night, I unrolled my tent and pulled it over me.

Dates ........ Tuesday Sept 26, 2000

Miles ........ 14.4 miles
From ........ Caughnawaga Shelter to Rt. 9
To ............. Autumn Inn, Bennington, VT
Weather ... Cold AM, 28 degF, hazy, overcast. Hi near 50 during day.

Glastenbury Mtn (3748') & lookout tower, Little Pond Mt (3331'), Maple Hill (2690') Rt. 9 Bennington VT.

I was groggy and sluggish, not having slept well. I was also anxious to hear if all was OK at home so I focused on getting to Bennington to celebrate my 1000th AT Trail Mile.

The outstanding feature of the day was the old fire tower on top of Glastenbury Mountain which had been converted into a lookout tower. Sadly, fire towers are pretty much a thing of the past. Electronic communication towers are springing up all over the high elevations, unfortunately.

The view from the tower was astounding, even if somewhat hazy. I took a series of panoramic photos and climbed down. It was cold and windy up there. The Goddard Shelter, less than a mile down the trail, offered a nice view from its open front deck.

I hiked over Little Pond Mt (3331'), crossed Hell Hollow Brook on its wooden bridge, ascended Maple Hill (2690') and took the side trail into The Melville Nauheim Shelter. No one was there. I used the opportunity to celebrate the passing of my 1000th mile by shaving 16 days of beard growth off my face. Also, I figured, it would improve my chances of getting a hitch into Bennington, 5 miles off the trail.

Hell Hollow Brook and footbridge

It was getting heavy overcast and threatening rain, so I hurried to Route 9, A series of steep switchbacks and a beautiful iron arch bridge over the stream took me right to a parking lot and the highway. Just as it started to sprinkle I got a ride and was deposited at the Autumn Inn on Route 9. I took a room, showered, did laundry and had a chicken dumpling dinner and a couple glasses of red wine. I called home and helped straighten out some problems (all was not well) then went shopping at the corner market.

It was nice having a warm room and real bed. The TV weatherman promised more cold weather and the possibility of showers.


Dates ........ Wednesday Sept 27, 2000
Miles ........ 18.2 miles
From ........ Rt. 9 - Autumn Inn, Bennington, VT
To ............. North Adams MA
Weather ... AM in the 40's, clear, PM in the high 50's, mostly clear

Harmon Hill VT, Sucker Pond, VT - MA state line, Eph's Lookout, North Adams, Bridge over RR tracks and Hoosic River.

My night in Bennington was most enjoyable and refreshing, despite the bad news about problems at home. Fortunately, they are nothing that can't wait until I get back. I had a hard time getting a hitch back to the trail crossing - all the soccer moms and their kids did not want to give me a ride. I went back to the motel to inquire about a cab and the desk clerk closed up and gave me a ride up to the trail. How sweet of her; I appreciated it.

I started up 3300 foot Harmon Hill from Rt 9, at 2300 ft. It was a steep climb up rock steps much of the way. I focused on slow and steady and made the climb in about an hour. At the top there were nice views of Bennington from a clearing. I chatted briefly with another hiker.

View of Bennington VT from Harmon Hill

I have formed an opinion about the Long Trail and AT in southern Vermont: It is really a Vietnamese rice paddy training ground in disguise as a hiking trail. It is the wettest, sloppiest trail I have ever had the displeasure to be on. As soon as I hit a dry spot, it would turn sloppy and mucky again. It slowed me down. But, the scenery, marshes and beaver ponds, were very pretty.

Congdon Shelter was a rest point - I got up on the picnic table where there was no mud. But from here, it just got worse. Seems they routed the trail through the biggest swampland in the state. The Indians probably paid us to take this land off their hands.

Balanced rocks near VT-MA border

Free Spirit at the VT - MA Border

Near the border with Mass there were two big balanced boulders. I wonder if they were naturally occurring, or the handiwork of ambitious men. Maybe the early settlers put them there for a place to keep their feet dry. In any case, they were interesting enough to photograph. At the Vermont - Massachusetts border, clearly marked with several signs, I met up with a northbound section hiker just starting out. I posed for a photo and moved on to Eph's Lookout where I surprised a couple in the midst of lovemaking. Not wanting to disturb their romantic interlude, I quickly snapped my scenic photo and moved on without causing them to miss a beat.

In Massachusetts they call trails through big chunks of rock "cobbles". The cobbles just beyond the lookout were interesting and challenging. "Lets be careful here, I don't want to get hurt this close to the end of the trail", I said to myself. The steep, sharp rocks reminded me, for a moment, of New Hampshire - only in NH they would have gone steeply up a mountain for several miles instead of a few hundred feet.

The trail ran along the very pretty Sherman Brook and gorge, at one time the water supply for North Adams, into a back yard and on to MA route 2, then across an elaborate foot bridge over railroad tracks and the Hoosic river, past what was once the industrial area in North Adams. Beyond that it ran up to the base of Mt. Graylock but I turned off, heading toward the only motel in town besides the Holiday Inn.

I might have been better off at Holiday Inn. The motel charged an outrageous $69.00 a night for a room with a double bed, no telephone, not even a clock radio or alarm clock, and a rusty stall shower. It was clean and it was about the only game in town. I got a couple of sandwiches and breakfast food from the supermarket across the street, called home from a payphone, ate, and turned in early.


Dates ........ Thursday Sept 28, 2000
Miles ........ 18.6 miles
From ........ North Adams MA motel
To ............. Crystal Mountain Campsite
Weather ... Very foggy damp AM, clearing, sunny, cool rest of day, mid 50's

Mt Williams (2951'), Mt Fitch (2110'), Mt. Greylock (3491'), monument and Bascom Lodge, Cheshire MA, Cheshire Cobbles and Cliffs

I was up at 5 AM, waiting at the base of Greylock Mt. for daylight at 6AM. Began my ascent at dusk. I climbed endlessly 2800 feet up over Mts Williams and Fitch, both part of Mt. Greylock. It was a very steep, rugged climb going up 1800 feet in the first 1.5 miles. I sweated profusely and my heart pounded every foot of the way in the damp, foggy morning air. It was my last big mountain on this trip. I started early so I could climb the mountain, do the elevation and make some miles, getting me closer to home. I was very anxious to get home.

On top of Mt. Williams, I lost my bearings where two trails came in next to one another, both heading more or less SW from that summit. Even my map and compass did not give me sufficient confidence to take one trail over the other. I took what turned out to be the wrong trail, realizing I'd been "here" before, but in the other direction. Black Forest, a late through hiker from Germany came along and confirmed my bearings. He did not go out onto the foggy summit but continued on the hairpin turn and therefore did not have a concern which trail was southbound. There were no indicators on the summit; just a distracting register box.

The trail ran through a huge blackberry patch near the summit and I enjoyed several handfuls of the succulent berries. I came across lots of ripe blackberries in the elevations of NH and VT. They were long gone back home (PA). Mt. Greylock was in the clouds - windy, very foggy and very cold. Visibility was 100 feet, maybe, so there were no views. I kept moving to keep from getting chilled.

Going "down" Greylock southbound was quite and experience. It seemed as though I was going uphill more than downhill near the summit. Finally, the trail got serious about going downhill and I made good time. I stopped halfway down, had my roast beef sub for lunch and took a layer of clothes off - the clouds lifted and let the sun through at last.

Cheshire was a cute little town and my final resupply. Walking down the street I found two valid credit cards. I stopped at the police station and turned them in, then collected my parcel at their friendly post office. The postal clerk filled my water bottle and assured me it would make me "fly like an eagle!" I reorganized my pack, sent back my exposed film and unneeded maps and threw out my trash.

I hit the trail which went past a cute little bike, bait and rollerblade shop - the proprietress flagged me down, literally, to ask me to spread the word to other hikers that they had coffee, cold drinks, hot dogs and a bathroom. I needed the bathroom. It was a nice break - they were friendly people just starting out in business and thought perhaps they'd open a hostel or hikers campground of sorts. The nearby church was no longer going to operate its hostel for hikers.

From there, it was up over the hill to "The Cobbles" and a fine cliff top view of Cheshire Reservoir from North Mountain ridge. It was near sunset when I reached Gore Pond and enjoyed the beauty of the water reflecting fall colors and the rocks. On the other side of the pond a hiker had set up his tent and was resting, enjoying the view and peace and quiet. I moved on to Crystal Mountain, set up my tent, ate supper, hung my food bag, and turned in. It was getting cold quickly and my sleeping bag felt real warm and nice.

Cheshire reservoir from ridge of North Mountain

Gore Pond and autumn colors near sunset.

Dates ........ Friday Sept 29, 2000

Miles ........ 16.5 miles
From ........ MA Crystal Mountain Campsite
To ............. October Mountain Lean-to
Weather ... 26 degF AM, clear and cold - warmed in PM to 60's

Dalton, MA

On the trail at 8 AM, it was very cold. I warmed up quickly as I hiked through the woods with clear blue sky overhead. I came across a large blackberry patch heavily laden with fruit. Whenever I came across these succulent treats I could not resist them. I picked a handful and dropped them into my mouth - they were tasty and delicious, though they were frozen solid.

On the outskirts of Dalton I met a trail maintainer, his daughter and grandson. The old timer had the AT in his blood, you could tell. His pretty daughter was a nature lover and the little grandson had a sparkle in his eyes that said "future hiker here." Maintaining the trail was a family affair. I thanked him for his labor and told him how distinctly better the trail was in Massachusetts than it was in Southern Vermont, then went on my way.

I met a northbound hiker coming out of Dalton. He told me of a good bagel and coffee shop in town. I followed his advice and directions, ordered a bagel, bacon and egg sandwich and coffee to go. While that was cooking, I went next door and ordered a couple of subs; roast beef and tuna for dinner and tomorrow's breakfast. Then I called home and walked the rest of the way through town. Dalton is a quaint little town where everyone seems to know everyone else. They are friendly, many greeting me with a smile and wave. Over the river and to the end of Depot Street, the trail returned to woods and a steady but gradual climb up Day Mountain.

I met a northbound hiker coming out of Dalton. He told me of a good bagel and coffee shop in town. I followed his advice and directions, ordered a bagel, bacon and egg sandwich and coffee to go. While that was cooking, I went next door and ordered a couple of subs; roast beef and tuna for dinner and tomorrow's breakfast. Then I called home and walked the rest of the way through town. Dalton is a quaint little town where everyone seems to know everyone else. They are friendly, many greeting me with a smile and wave. Over the river and to the end of Depot Street, the trail returned to woods and a steady but gradual climb up Day Mountain.

Mt. Greylock MA (3491') , Mt Williams to right, Greylock's long ridge left.

On top of Warner Hill I ran into the girl again, along with two other women and an injured dog. It was a clear view back to Greylock Mountain. I took a picture of the mountain and its long ridge. As I prepared to resume hiking I spotted a green snake on the grass near a rock and photographed it. The ladies wanted no part of the cute little creature. When the trail came out on Pittsfield Road, I took advantage of a warm grassy spot in the sun to rest for a few moments, and then pushed on to the October Mountain Lean-to.

Making the October Mountain shelter would leave me a very short hike tomorrow. I could meet my ride home at mid-day. I hiked through a muddy forest of mixed hardwoods and pines. It felt good to be nearing my des-tination and a ride home. At the lean-to, I filtered water and hung my food bag from the steel bear-proof cable they had rigged between two large trees

Nitta, the girl I had met earlier came along. She became friendlier and more talkative as the evening wore on. She was from Israel and thought the AT beautiful, though she questioned her desires to continue in the face of colder weather. A trail runner happened by and took a few moments to chat with us before donning his headlamp and continuing, his bobbing yellow light fading off into the black of the forest night.

Nitta was hiking alone and expressed no fears of the trail or the people along it - after all, she was from the war-torn and terrorist prone Middle East. Nothing along the trail posed a threat to her, except bears. And this particular shelter had signs warning of Black Bear problems and the register was full of comments about sightings, raided packs and lost food. After I ate a filling and delicious tuna sub for supper I made sure there was no food left in my pack and clothes, burned the sub wrapper, and turned in for the night. We chose to sleep in the easier to defend upper roof overhang. Previous occupants had left a supply of large-sized throwing rocks there.

Nitta in front of October Mountain Lean-to.

It was a good thing we took every precaution. Just before the clear, cold dawn, a black bear tried to get our food. Through a dirty and hazy Plexiglas window I could make out his big black form moving about underneath the food storage cable and heard him and clawing the tree to which it was fastened. I debated whether to get dressed and try to get a picture and decided I did not want to get that cold and that close to him - I would take a picture if he came closer to the shelter. He did not. In the morning I saw the fresh paw prints in the dirt and claw marks in the tree bark. Nitta slept through it all. Just as well. I did not want her to worry needlessly. My last night on the trail, I was really disappointed that I did not see one single moose in three weeks and 300 miles of hiking through moose country.

Dates ........ Saturday Sept 30, 2000
Miles ........ 7.2 miles
From ........ October Mountain Lean-to
To ............. MA Route 20 near the Mass Turnpike.
Weather ... 28 degF clear, cold morning. Warming to hi 50's in PM.

My LAST DAY ON THE TRAIL for this hike.

I had dreams of a Burger King chicken sandwich when Jim came to pick me up. That, and getting home to all the lovely conveniences I'd done without, to a soft bed and warm house, spurred me to an early start. I packed up, ate a roast beef sub for breakfast, woke Nitta up and hit the trail. Nitta was still snuggled in her warm bag when I left. That girl could sleep through anything.

Finerty Pond was absolutely radiant on this clear sunny day, and the trail around it was covered with fresh moose and bear tracks - but I saw no moose. Last night was my second black bear sighting on the AT, the first being in Virginia's Shenandoah National Park near Saddleback mountain. Maybe when I hike the Maine section I'll see my moose. I was headed home and that is where my focus was today.

The trail headed up from Finerty Pond to Walling Mountain, a 350 to 400 foot climb perhaps. I breezed up the hill like it was level. That is always the way it is on my hikes - the last few days I am in really good shape - just in time to go home. I met a group of four day-hikers on Walling Mountain.

Finerty Pond

On top of Becket Mountain, I met up with Jim Yeich - a retired school teacher, neighbor, AT hiker, trail mentor and all around great guy. He is there to give me a ride home. He had hiked up from Route 20 to meet me and was enjoying a conversation with another hiker at the summit where the old fire tower used to be. It was great seeing him - I knew I really was headed home. He shared his satchel of fruit with us - God, that fresh banana and apple tasted good - then we headed down the hill to the car. Next stop - the nearest Burger King, please. This hike was over.

[Free Spirit]

April 14, 2001 (8 AM)... Morning fog on the road to Damascus along Rt 58.

Dates .... Saturday, April 14 through Friday, May 4, 2001 - 21 days on the trail

Miles .... 301 miles, total.
From .... Damascus Virginia
To ......... Petites Gap (North of Apple Orchard Mountain, VA)

Overview

With the completion of this section of trail - 301 miles from DAMASCUS VA to PETITE's GAP VA - I have hiked 1387 miles of the Appalachian Trail (AT) in section ranging from 227 to 313 miles long, from Mt. Washington, NH to Damascus VA. I have the two "ends" to do - Springer Mt. Ga to Damascus, about 455 miles, including the Great Smokie Mountains, and Katahdin Mt. Maine to Mt. Washington, NH, about 333 miles. Getting to the trail sections I have not hiked has become a major effort, now requiring a very long trip.

I refined and fine-tuned my pack for this my fifth Appalachian Trail adventure. Fully loaded before food and water it weighed a pleasantly amazing 22.75 pounds. That included all my gear and clothes, except what I wore or carried in my pocket. It included film, but not my small camera, which I carried in my front shirt pocket. Food weighed 1.1 pounds per day and I never carried more than 5 plus 1 days reserve of food due to frequent mail drops, so my maximum pack weight with food and 1 qt. of water was 22.75 + 6.6 + 2 = 31.35 pounds. That is a very light pack.,and as this journey would prove, had all the essentials I would need I carried nothing that was not absolutely essential to me. Halfway through my journey I sent back my sneakers, shaving off another 1.5 pounds.

April 14, 2001 (8:30 AM)... Free Spirit (Al) at the beginning of his spring 2001 hike.

Saturday April 14 was a summer day with blue skies, sunshine and temperatures in the upper 70's. The only clue that it was not summertime was the lack of leaves on the trees. John dropped me off at the trailhead and I started my adventure. Almost immediately after climbing away from the road I came across a Great Horned owl and managed to get a photograph. It was only the second owl I've seen in the wild in my lifetime of stomping the great outdoors. Later in the hike, on May 2, I came face to face with a mink, the first one of those sleek creatures I'd ever seen that wasn't wrapped around some fur-loving woman's body.

I had a challenging task ahead of me - I had planned a full 15.6 mile hike to the first shelter with 2500 feet of climbing on a hot day. I quickly realized that I had not conditioned myself adequately for this hike. I had too many distractions such as our late winter, the cow rescue, and too much to do around home and with family. I paid dearly for my lack of conditioning.

I had three major challenges on this hike: Extreme Winter weather (two record lows were recorded for that period), three of Virginia's highest mountains (over 5000 feet) and very warm days. It was summer, winter, summer - no spring weather.

Backpacking in southernmost Virginia in the middle of April I did not expect or pack for severe winter weather. I was prepared for cold weather, but not sustained temperatures in the upper teens and 20's with snow and high wind. I never dreamed I'd be pushing through knee-deep snowdrifts on the mountain ridges of the trail. The three days and nights of cold weather drove many hikers into town for shelter in a bar or motel. The winds were up to 60 MPH on the elevations. Of course my hike timed the coldest weather with the highest elevations in Virginia - Mounts Rogers, Whitetop and Pine - all over 5000 feet high. All in the first days of my hike. See April 16-19.

But luck and ingenuity were with me. Packing as light as I could, I left my gloves and an extra fleece shirt home to save weight. I regretted leaving my gloves. But, I had enough clothes to stay dry and warm and my 35-degree rated sleeping bag with fleece liner kept me warm enough to sleep well at night when I covered it with my tent. During the coldest days I wore a polyester T-shirt, long sleeve brushed nylon shirt, wool shirt and light nylon windbreaker/rain jacket, and a wool cap. I was warm as long as I kept moving. If I stopped I put on my heavier fleece jacket. I wore my extra socks on my hands to help keep them warm.

When I got to the Thomas Knob shelter near the top of Mt Rogers (5,500 ft. elevation) it was in the clouds with visibility limited to 50 yards and high winds. The shelter was empty except for a register and an old pair of ski gloves hanging on the back wall. Trail magic was at work. The gloves were far better than the spare socks I was wearing on my hands. The shelter shook in the wind as the mercury plunged, but I slept well, alone in its loft. In the morning, it was 20 degreesF and everything outside except the bare earth and large rocks were covered with a beautiful but chilling glass-clear ice.

The next morning I awoke to 18 degreesF and fresh snow. The snow made the woods so eerily silent. Gone were the singing birds, insects, and wildflowers. I had to keep my hood up all the time to prevent snow from falling down my neck as I brushed the snow-laden branches hanging low over the trail. Snow was blowing and drifting on the trail.

I hiked to the Partnership Shelter at Mt. Rogers Headquarters, the only shelter on the trail that is equipped with hot and cold running water and a shower. The shower was frozen but the faucets out back were still working. I washed a few items and myself, hanging my trail laundry on the line to dry in the breeze. It froze stiff and I had to pack it frozen the next day. I want to the HQ visitor center and called home, had some soda. They told me a local pizza shop delivered to the front gate. Another hiker, Harry Cary, came by and we ordered pizza. A hot meal on a cold day. What a treat. Along with the pizza, I ordered a tuna sub for breakfast. It was partially frozen in the morning - but I ate it anyway.

We had more snow overnight and it was snowing and 20 degreesF when we got up. The snow drifted on the ridges knee deep in places - making hiking difficult. I tied my pantlegs tightly around my ankles, keeping snow from getting inside my boots. As we trudged north, the snow diminished. Looking to the right of the ridge we saw snow covered forest and valleys. Looking to the left, we saw green fields and woods - no snow. We were headed left, into the valley where I 81 crossed the trail. We each got a motel room. I did laundry and put my sleeping bag in a dryer - it had accumulated a lot of moisture the last three nights because the tent over it trapped the moisture. It was so nice to dry out and warm up. As we hiked down the mountain into the valley, summer returned as fast as winter arrived and by evening we were running around in sunshine and upper 60's again. For the balance of my hike, another two weeks, it was summer weather with temperatures in the 70's and 80's every day and, in stark contrast to last year's spring hike, no rain.

My gear selection had been tested to its limits, as had I. My gear served me well. I had persevered under extreme, adverse conditions and survived, yes, even enjoyed the challenge. To me, that is the challenge of backpacking - taking on the unexpected and prevailing. See Appendix C of my online journal. It details my minimalist lightweight gear and trail food.

I hired a shuttle to take me to Ceres, a remote, very quiet post office buried in the Appalachian Mountains, to get another mail drop - then drop me off at the trail. The shuttle driver was in bad shape and could not keep the car on the road. After crossing the double yellow line and nearly hitting the guardrail several times, I insisted on driving. He slept as I drove up the steep, twisting mountain roads to Ceres then on to the trailhead. See April 18 - 19.

The majority of the hike was almost mundane. Hike up a mountain and follow its ridge, descend and climb its gaps, and follow the ridge. Unlike the White mountains of NH where there are no trees above 4,000 feet, the mountaintops and high ridges of Virginia's Appalachians are heavily wooded and views are limited to a few overlooks and clear rocky areas known as balds. The one challenge was making sure I had enough water. The warm weather and exertion required large amounts a drinking water. I found myself drinking 8 to 10 quarts of water daily. A lot of time was spent obtaining water, generally not available on the high ridges. But, I never experienced a shortage. When necessary, I could carry three quarts of water. I usually carried one quart and drank heavily when at the shelters or other water sources. It was much warmer than it should have been that time of year, and much warmer than I liked it for backpacking - but, I preferred it to rain or snow. A couple of times I was near a good sized stream, I took advantage of it to refresh myself with a very cold skinny-dip. Cold water and hot air - I dried very fast.

As I climbed Chestnut Knob (4409 feet) the clear air after the cold front came through, I was treated to a magnificent view of the Appalachian Mountains on one side and Burkes Garden, a fertile and beautiful valley below. The shelter on top, a former fire warden's stone cabin, had its roof strapped down with steel cables to keep it from blowing away. A small troop of Boy Scouts was there on a 50-mile hike. They were great kids and shared their bounty of baked goods with me - a welcome supplement to my trail food. See April 19-20.

The most extraordinary and unusual event of this trip, for that matter my entire AT hiking experience, took place on the 3,500 high ridge of Sinking Creek Mountain, a nearly solid rock ridge of sharply slanting stone the trail goes over. As I gingerly navigated the steeply sloping solid rock, I came unexpectedly face to face with three feral goats. Clearly, this was their turf - but I needed to go forward and they were blocking the only way. They came up to me and got what they wanted - the salt from my body. They licked every inch of exposed skin on my arms, legs and torso. After I got over my shock, I enjoyed petting and photographing them. I was at least 3 miles from the nearest farm, which would have been at least 1500 feet down in the valley below. Afterward, I learned that these goats were a regular feature of this section of trail, had been there for years, and had licked nearly every hiker that came by. Evidently they had a high need for salt and hikers had plenty to spare. That is adaptability. It was truly a unique experience. See April 27.

Excitement was also provided by the USAF along the ridges south of Roanoke. They were doing maneuvers or training of some sort - perhaps radar tests for offshore ships. They would fly their delta wing jets up to the ridge at about 500-1000 feet above the trees and turn and accelerate sharply as if on a bombing run. It was very exciting, impressive and noisy.

As always seems to be the case, the people I meet on and along the trail seem to be a major highlight of my adventure. I met a lovely enterprising family on a road crossing, in a red-roofed farmhouse adjacent to the trail that sold cold soda, candy, ice cream, canned goods and similar hiker needs off their front porch. They dished out large amounts of old-fashioned hospitality, even to smelly hikers, and bent over backwards to be nice to the hikers. At the Homeplace restaurant in Catawba, I enjoyed a great meal and spent the night under their gazebo, at the invitation of the owner. He invites any hiker to stay or camp there. See April 27-28. And the other hikers - what an interesting mix of people - all with a different reason for hiking the trail, all enjoying their own hike. I met three that were "early retirees", thanks in part to recent stock market successes. I met one couple that was to be married at the end of their hike and one couple on their honeymoon. I also met plenty of the usual "youngsters" that were finding direction in their lives or just having an adventure before settling into the workday world or similar rut. See Appendix D - Quoteworthy Shelter Register Entries. Two entries from this hike:

4/10/01 Lost Mountain Shelter entry: Water……Water……I'm going to have to get used to this heat! The first thing I learned on this wonderful 80 degree + day is not to take water for granted. …..At one point I was wondering if my water filter worked on urine. Luckily, that was about the time I stumbled upon this fine shelter. Off to find the spring. PURTON MAGIG

4/11/01 - Lost Mountain Shelter entry: Suddenly its that time of year when thoughts turn from " I wonder how cold body parts can get before they fall off" to "Boy, my ass sure sweats a lot." Usually there's a season between winter and summer, not this year. CITRUSNote that through hikers coming north from Springer Mountain GA experienced severe winter weather in the Smokies in March with lots of heavy snow, then hot summer weather in early April. There were dozens of shelter register comments on the extreme weather. Many sent cold weather gear home in early April only to get caught again in VA with winter weather in mid month and no cold weather gear. FreeSpirit

Cast of Characters - only a partial list - and boy, were they characters! Ox (UK), Harold/Harry Carey, Corndog, Grunt, Pugh family, Moto, Silver Nipples, Midoman, Coach, Sugar Bear, Dusty, Zach, Kineo, Big Bird, Bookworm, Caboose, Mailman, Brian and Michelle, Alan (DDS) and wife (ME), Bishop, Jeff (teacher) & GF, Night Train, Charley, lucky ted and Nature Girl, Old men of the Cloth (6 guys), Mr. Pat, Spur, Jamie Dolan and wife, Linde, Skid, Curt, Wrong Way, and lots more whose names have escaped me.

GREAT PLACES - along the trail: Troutdale bank, trading post. Catawba Homeplace Restaurant and very friendly Catawba post office, Red Roof farmhouse and family at the Route 42 trail crossing, near Huffman VA, friendly Post office at Pearisburg.

The most exhilarating experience was 3,250 foot McAfee Knob and 3000 foot Tinkers Cliffs overlooks. From McAfee knob, I stood atop a rock platform and looked out over an unforgettable expanse of mountain and valley. A local hiker pointed out the route of my next two days hikes - along the ridge, across the edge and tops of Tinker's Cliffs, into the shelter in the gap, and along the ridge into Daleville and Troutville. It was awesome - seeing the trail laid out before you, comparing it to the map and knowing you will walk those cliffs and ridges later today and tomorrow. The trail went right along tinker's Cliffs and their sometimes 100 foot straight-down edges. At times narrow, it was no place for someone with a fear of heights or unsteady legs. There were places I had to cross crevasses in the rock or venture out onto a table rock. The views there were so magnificent they nearly made me cry. And I had the great fortune to be there on a clear, crisp, sunny day. Looking back to McAfee knob from Tinker's Cliffs was equally rewarding - I had been there - on top of that knob's rock face - just hours ago. The whole experience puts long distance backpacking in perspective and is adequate reward for all your toils, inconveniences, sweat, and hardships. See April 28-29.

Yet another reward was the profusion of wildflowers in bloom along the trail. The showiest were the pink lady slippers and pink and white trilliums and the Pinxter and white azaleas. Violets grew profusely along the trail, along with hundreds of other species of wildflowers and tree blossoms. The air was rich with their mingled scents, an absolutely heavenly aroma - the scent of Spring and earth. I am fortunate to have many photographs of the beautiful flowers. I saw and photographed lots of the wildflowers and I am putting them in a separate section in my photo journal.

All in all it was a challenging, successful, rewarding backpacking trip. These adventures always accomplish one thing. They make me realize THERE IS NOPLACE AS SWEET AS HOME. Home, sweet home. Many thanks to Jim Yeich - an AT veteran, good neighbor and friend - for the ride home from Virginia.

[Free Spirit]

Dates ........ Saturday, April 14, 2001
Miles ........ 15.8 miles
From ........ Damascus VA
To ............. Lost Mountain Shelter
Weather ... Sunny, low 70's

Damascus VA (Hikertown USA), Iron(2900'el), Straight (3500'el), and Lost (3400') Mtns., Great Horned Owl, Taylor's Valley views.

Up before 6 A.M., breakfast at Cracker Barrel, check out of our motel in Abingdon VA, John and I drove into DAMASCUS VA and picked up the trail where it headed up the mountain out of town. It was easy to find - a set of steps on the edge of Route 58, next to a piped spring. I strapped on my backpack, waved good-bye and the journey into the unknowns and adventures of the Appalachian Mountains along the Appalachian Trail (AT) of Southwestern Virginia began. I was eager to meet the challenges of the 301 miles of trail ahead of me.

I refined and fine-tuned my pack for this my fifth Appalachian Trail adventure. Fully loaded before food and water it weighed a pleasantly amazing 22.75 pounds. That included all my gear and clothes, except what I wore or carried in my pocket. It included film, but not my small camera, which I carried in my front shirt pocket. Food weighed 1.1 pounds per day and I never carried more than 5 plus 1 days reserve of food due to frequent mail drops, so my maximum pack weight with food and 1 qt. Of water was 22.75 + 6.6 + 2 = 31.35 pounds. That is a very light pack and, as this journey would prove, had all the essentials I would need. I carried nothing that was not absolutely necessary. Halfway through my journey I sent back my sneakers, shaving off another 1.5 pounds. The weather was nice- though at 70 degrees it was a little warm for the exertion of backpacking. Right away I knew I'd be going through a lot of water, most of it exiting my body in the form of perspiration. I started at 2000 feet elevation, a low point in the trail, and immediately climbed 1000 feet to Iron Mountain, descended 700 feet then climbed another 1000 ft. to Straight Mt and then down again to Laurel Creek and up another 1000 feet to Lost Mountain. My hips ached and I realized that my pre-hike conditioning had been far less than adequate. I struggled up the climbs, but at least my knees did not give me any problems as they had in the past. Tomorrow was to be another day of rugged climbing.

Whitetop and Beech Mountains as seen from the AT on the crest of Straight Mountain.

Part of the AT paralleled the Virginia Creeper bike trail, a nice smooth foot and bike path, and went over some old rail beds and a 540 foot long bike and foot bridge made from a former railroad trestle before it broke away and headed up Lost Mountain. The trail itself was packed dirt covered with pine needles and leaves. It was not muddy or rocky and was pleasant to walk on. The forest was mixed hardwoods and conifers with lots of mountain laurel and rhododendron. Tree buds were swollen but not yet leafing out. Redbuds, dogwoods and serviceberry were in various stages of bloom. Azaleas were just beginning to blossom. Songbirds were everywhere.

After crossing Straight Branch Creek I saw a large owl on a branch over the trail. It flew a few feet and landed on another branch, allowing me to get a good photo. It appeared to be a great horned owl - common in these parts but rarely seen. It is only the second live owl I have ever seen in the wild, though I have heard them many times. Later in the hike I was to see my first ever mink in the wild.

I stopped briefly at Saunders Shelter to replenish my water supply and take a little break, lying in the sunshine. I enjoyed the many and beautiful views of the picturesque and peaceful looking Taylor's Valley below. I wondered what life must be like down there and if the residents had hiked this trail to look down on their homes and farms.

At Lost Mountain shelter I met up with Harry Carey, a former military chopper pilot and real gentleman, Jeff, a schoolteacher and his girlfriend documenting his AT hike as a school project, and a techno-geek testing the function of various electronic equipment on the AT. I slept well, though I was a little too warm in my unzipped bag.

Dates ........ Sunday, April 15, 2001
Miles ........ 12.2 miles
From ........ Lost Mtn Shelter
To ............. Thomas Knob Shelter on Mt Rogers
Weather ... Increasing cloudiness, windy, rain, 40's, 60 MPH winds on Mt Rogers

Beech (4766' el), Whitetop (5520' el), Balsam, Rogers (5729'el) Mountains. In the clouds.

Happy Easter. I got off to a late start, about 8:45. I have 12.5 miles and a 2000 foot climb to Whitetop then another 1000 foot climb from Elk Garden to Mt. Rogers ahead of me. Showers are in the forecast and heavy, dark clouds are moving in and it is getting quite windy and cooler.

The climb up Whitetop is arduous and long - 2000 feet elevation over 3 miles of trail - not too steep - just steady, long and tiring, especially in raingear. I'm so glad my pack is light and that my knees are not bothering me. I am experiencing a dull pain in my hips though - probably due to my lack of conditioning.

I met a group of young kids coming down the mountain - 2 boys, 2 girls and they were tired from going down. The one blonde boy was almost identical to an old friend of mine, Jimmy Driver. Funny how meeting someone on the trail can take you back to another time and place.

The summit of Whitetop and Buzzard rock were not pleasant. It was raining hard - a stinging, cold pelting rain that made you wonder what you were doing out here. Of course, the spectacular views were not to be. The wind seemed to be increasing as I gained elevation, and the temperature was falling. Both Whitetop And Mt. Rogers had large grassy areas near their summits, though Mt Rogers summit was wooded.

Stile near AT on crest of Mt Rogers, looking back toward Whitetop Mt.

On my way up Mt Rogers I met OX, a through hiker from England finishing up a hike he started last year. The last two miles to the Thomas Knob shelter looked easy on the profile map but were in fact extremely rocky with lots of little steep ups and downs (more ups) through the woods. When I reached the clearing near the trail to the summit, I could see the clouds blowing across in front of me and felt the wind trying to blow me over or lift the pack off my back. The winds must have been near 50-60 MPH as I approached the summit. Finally, I saw Thomas Knob shelter looming ahead in the clouds.

When I reached the shelter the wind was screaming. The shelter was in the open, 50 feet from the edge of the woods with the wind coming across an open field to the shelter. It was shaking in the wind but it was a most welcome refuge. I had the shelter all to myself except for a pair of wild turkeys that were using it as a windbreak. I went down the pasture to the fenced-in spring and got my supply of water, changed into warmer and dryer clothes and set up my sleeping area in the shelter's loft. The wind and blowing clouds made it sound and feel like you were in turbulent air in a jetliner at 50,000 feet. Exhausted, I had no problem getting to sleep. In the middle of the night I woke up feeling cold. I put my wool cap on and pulled my tent over my sleeping bag and fleece liner. I was warm enough to go right back to sleep.

Dates ........ Monday, April 16, 2001

Miles ........ 25.2 trail miles, 20 actual.
From ........ Thomas Knob Shelter
To ............. Trimpi Shelter
Weather ... Cold, windy, icy AM, 20 to 30 degF

Rogers and Pine Mts, Troutdale mail pickup.

Oh, what a cold morning. I looked around outside and everything had a beautiful but chilling layer of clear ice on it. Everything except the earth itself and boulders large enough to retain the previous days heat. The blowing clouds had condensed and frozen on everything in their path. It was a chilling 20 degrees out. No wonder I did not want to leave my warm sleeping bag - but I knew I had to. I got out my map and studied my options as the wind screamed by. I dressed in layers - my wool cap to hold in my head's heat, then a poly T-shirt, brushed nylon shirt, wool shirt and light nylon parka/windbreaker and my brushed nylon pants. And, I would take the gloves that someone had so kindly left on the back wall of the shelter for me.

Frozen Clouds (Ice)-coated Spruce tree near Thomas Knob Shelter, Mt. Rogers, VA

There was a quick way down from the mountain's ridge - a blue blaze that went along Pine Mountain, rejoining the AT just above the Old Orchard Shelter, 1500 feet lower than Thomas Knob. (Still it was at 4000 feet elevation, but not in the open.) I would go there and decide my next move. As long as I kept moving I was warm enough. The trail-magic ski gloves were a much-needed blessing. Because of the blue blaze, I would miss the ponies and Grayson Highlands but I would be off the ridge and its high winds. The Pine Mountain Blue Blaze went through open scrub pine and large rock formations.

Without the proper gear the low temperature and high wind combination was life threatening. Fortunately, even though packing for spring weather with a minimalist lightweight pack and gear, I had enough of the right kind of clothes to stay warm and safe, even comfortable at these temperatures. I was at the very low end of my limit, however. I kept my heavier fleece jacket dry and available for when I stopped moving. That and another dry nylon long sleeve shirt and another pair of pants was my total reserve of clothing.

I hiked out to Route 603 where I got a ride into Troutdale, picked up my mail drop, ate a huge burger and got two more to go, then got another ride back to the trail. My pack was much heavier now, with a little extra food in it. At Dickey Gap, I met a day hiker on her way to meet her husband, slackpacking southbound. I dropped some extra food off at Raccoon Branch shelter and we met her husband Alan, a retired dentist from Maine hiking the trail in casual segments with support form his wife. They were really nice folks. Then I pushed on to Trimpi shelter, arriving at dusk. A beautiful thicket of lush forsythia in blossom decorated the area. The day "warmed up" to about 30 degrees, but that was it. It was moderate trail with only gradual 800 foot and 600 foot climbs and over 2800 feet in total descent and nearly 9 miles of easy, level walking.

The water was just a trickle at the shelter, but it was enough. I couldn't find the privy - or maybe there wasn't one. Funny, the deluxe shelter included a built-into-the-shelter fireplace, but no privy? I was no stranger to using the woods as our ancestors had. My cold burger supper tasted great. I barely had time to get my bedding arranged before dark. It cooled off fast after sunset. I put my tent over my sleeping bag again. I knew I was in for another cold night. I slept well, alone at the shelter.

Dates ........ Tuesday April 17, 2001
Miles ........ 11.3 miles
From ........ Trimpi Shelter
To ............. Partnership Shelters - Mt Rogers NRA HQ
Weather ... COLD< snow, wind, 18-28 degF, cloudy with on/off snow

SNOW in mid April in Southern VA??? Mt Rogers NRA Headquarters, Partnership shelter, Pizza delivery. Brushy Mt.

Snow was falling when I woke up. The thermometer was reading 18 degrees. It was peaceful, serene and uniquely beautiful. The forsythia was a blend of yellow and white. Everything was so still. No birds singing, no flies or bees buzzing. No sound at all. Just the beautiful, chilling silence of the snow covered wilderness.

Another thing that helped me survive, endure and even enjoy the unexpected cold, wet weather was dry feet and boots. I learned the hard way the importance of dry feet on my first hike (Pennsylvania, Spring 1999). I had ample socks (3 pair of Thorlos and three pair of poly sock liners) to ward off blisters and have clean socks to change into to protect a hikers most important body part - his feet. I had leather boots (cheap, made in China solid leather uppers) treated with the worlds best boot waterproofing: "Snow Proof". I saturated my boots before leaving home, giving them the warm oven treatment twice, then carried about an ounce of extra Snow Proof and got another ounce with each mail drop. That was a key factor in keeping my boots and feet dry. That and being extra careful at all stream crossings and water sources, being less of a klutz than I was in the past. Dry feet helped me persevere in the face of intolerable weather.

I planned my AT hiking in the spring and fall to avoid the heat, leaves and bugs of summer and the cold of winter. But, here I was on a winter hike. I had two choices: Go on and deal with it or quit and go back home early. Knowing it could, and probably would get worse, I decided to push on. It was no fun hiking with a hood up, blocking your hearing and side vision. But it was necessary, unless you happened to enjoy frequent bouts of snow being dumped down the back of your neck from low hanging branches and brush along the trail. Staying dry was essential, not a luxury, especially at these temperatures. I hiked the ridges and crests of Brushy Mountain in winter conditions. There was 2 to 4 inches of snow on the ground, drifted on the ridge to around 8 inches in some places, blown clear on others. It was not difficult terrain; the weather was the only challenge. It was at times very difficult to make out the trail and or the blazes in this vast white wonderland.

Snow-covered Appalachian Trail. Yes, its mid-April in Southwestern Virginia.

It was nice to hike into the Mount Rogers National Recreation Area (NRA) Headquarters. It had a heated building open to the public with several nice displays related to Mt Rogers and the AT. Nearby was Partnership Shelter, a lavish two-story affair complete with shower and wash tub with heated water. A payphone was outside the main building. The shower was frozen but the washtub was operational. I washed my dirty hiking clothes and myself, hanging the quick-dry clothes on a line in front of the shelter to dry. They immediately froze solid. I moved them into the shelter where they remained frozen.

Harry Carey caught up with me. We ordered pizza delivered to the main gate and I ordered a tuna sub for tomorrow's breakfast. We thoroughly enjoyed the warm pizza, some soda from the main building and a hot cup of tea. Bedtime, I pulled my tent over my sleeping bag again and managed to sleep warm enough.

Dates ........ Wednesday April 18, 2001

Miles ........ 11.5 miles

From ........ Partnership Shelters - Mt Rogers NRA HQ

To ............. Motel at Atkins VA - I 81, US11 & VA 683

Weather ... Deep snow & cold 20 degF AM, PM in the 60's

Deep Snow in SW VA in mid April???, Locust (3700'el) & Glade (3900'el) Mts, Motel refuge.

It was extremely hard to make myself get out of my cozy sleeping bag and get dressed. I'd put the clothes I planned on wearing in the bag with me to keep them warm. That made it a little more tolerable. I noticed heavy condensation on my tent where it had been over my sleeping bag. My bag felt quite damp. Evidently, moisture was being trapped between the tent and sleeping bag. I needed to dry things out somehow.

I looked forward to my tuna sub breakfast - I knew I had a challenging day ahead as it was still snowing and windy out, and less than 20 degrees. The tuna sub, yesterday's laundry, my water bottle and the leftover can of soda were frozen. I ate the sub anyway. We crossed the road in front of the main entrance and started climbing the crest of Brushy Mt. (3700' el) on to the ridges of Locust (3700' el) and Glade (3900' el) Mountains. The snow was drifted on the ridge from 8 to 18 inches deep. I got some extra bootlaces from my pack and tied my pant cuffs tightly around my ankles to keep the snow out of my boots. I trudged on. Descending Glade Mt. I noticed a significant decrease in the amount of snow. From the ridge I could look to the right and see a snow covered winter wonderland of mountains and forest while looking to the left I could see lots of green, some meadow and farmland, and almost no snow. I was headed into the valley on the left - an encouraging thought.

Snowdrifts on the AT along Hickory Ridge, across from Mt. Rogers NRA HQ.

It was a long, gradual descent from Glade Mt., past Chatfield shelter, across farmland and pasture, across the middle fork of the Holston River, and down into the US11-I 81 valley where there a host of civilization - and no snow - awaited. There was, among many other things, a motel and restaurant. I got a room and immediately set my gear out to dry. I used the motel's laundry to wash my clothes and dry my damp sleeping bag. I ate well in the restaurant and relaxed, called home and got a wonderful night's sleep on a real bed. I luxuriated in the shower for a long time. I arranged for a motel employee to shuttle me to Ceres for my next mail drop and then back down to the trail. The local forecast called for another night of record low temperatures (2 record lows had already been recorded this week), clear and no precipitation (snow). I was glad to be in a warm motel, drying out.

Dates ........ Thursday, April 19, 2001
Miles ........ 23.3 miles
From ........ Atkins VA
To ............. Chestnut Knob Shelter
Weather ... Sunny, mid to upper 60's

Ceres Mail Drop, Chestnut Knob (4409'el) and mountain views, Boy Scout Troop, Burke's Garden.

The shuttle driver was late and suffering from a migraine headache. He could hardly keep his car between the double yellow and the guardrail on this extremely steep, winding mountain-climbing road. I offered to drive (actually, I insisted) and he was happy to let me, closing his eyes to rest. I saw three yearling whitetail deer cross the road in front of me on the way up. I picked up my mail drop at the Ceres Post Office - in the middle of nowhere, really - and drove myself back to the trail. My pack always felt extremely heavy after a mail drop, but it was still much lighter than what I carried on my first three hikes. It wasn't too bad a climb past Davis Path Shelter, over Gullion Mt and Tilson Gap, and past Knot Maul Shelter, but I was tiring fast -carrying a heavier pack (probably 31 pounds in all). I had to face the hardest, biggest climb at the end of the day - but I wanted to make the miles. From the dirt road crossing of VA 625, it was a 2000-foot climb over 4 miles of trail - and I had already hiked 16 tiring miles. Along the way, several partridge took flight, startling me and providing an adrenalin boost. There were still isolated pockets of snow here and there along the trail but it was melting fast in this sunny day in the high 60's. I had to really push myself to continue the last bit of the climb until, near the summit, I came across the most awesome mountain views of the trip - so far. There, laid before me were more mountains than the mind could comprehend - or than the camera lens could capture. Seemingly limitless in depth and expanse, their raw beauty defied description and intoxicated me. I almost camped a couple miles mile short of the summit to bask in the vista but made myself go on, literally putting one tired, sore foot in front of the other.

Partial view of the expanse of mountains looking west from Chestnut Knob.

I rested a few moments at the pond and spring - the last reliable water 1.8 miles before the shelter on the summit, soaking up the view. This is why I hike, I thought to myself. This is my reward. Then I pushed on and finally the summit and shelter came into view. A group of boy scouts were there. They gladly made room for me and were eager to share their food and baked goods surplus with me. They were on a 50 mile hike and one of the guys had driven all the way out from Colorado to be with his (old) scout troop (Troop 9 based in Burlington, NC). Their youthful energy and good behavior made me forget how tired I was and took me back to my happy days as a Boy Scout.

The view over the summit of Chestnut Knob (4409' el) was of Burke's Garden - a legendary and beautiful valley of fertile farmland surrounded on all sides by mountains, Chestnut Knob being the highest. The shelter was a former fire warden's cabin at a fire tower site. All in all it was a great reward for dragging my sorry ass up the last few miles. It was near sunset when I finally arrived.

Scout Troop 9 from Burlington, NC at Chestnut Knob (4409') with Burke's Garden in background.

The very exposed shelter had its roof strapped down with steel cables, presumably to keep it from blowing away during high winds. Its base walls were laid up fieldstone and concrete. The views from around the shelter, and even its crude privy, were phenomenal - I can only imagine what they were from an elevated fire tower. Unfortunately, only the concrete base piers of the fire tower remained. Like so many wonderful and exciting things, fire towers have passed into nostalgic obsolescence. I slept well inside the sturdy, enclosed shelter.

Dates ........ Friday, April 20, 2001

Miles ........ 9.8 miles
From ........ Chestnut Knob
To ............. Jenkins Shelter
Weather ... 40's and windy AM, clearing and warming to the 60's

Chestnut Knob views, ridge over and views of Burke's Garden (valley)

In the morning it was mild pandemonium as the Scouts, their energy renewed, were ramming around having fun while their leaders were trying to get them to focus on packing up and hitting the trail. It was fun and distracting for me too. I rallied the troop for a photo in front of the shelter, packed my gear, shouldered my pack, shook their hands and said good-bye.

I was startled by a lone turkey hunter in full camouflage, shotgun in hand, leaning against a big tree right on the trail. How senseless, I thought. Here is a very popular, world renowned trail with humans plodding through on a regular basis and this guy expects to find wary wild turkeys here? The turkeys are smarter than that. Then there is the safety issue. The last place I would want to hunt would be someplace where a person (hiker) or group of hikers could wander into my line of fire at any time. Hunting along the trail may be legal, but it is stupid. (Incidentally - I love guns and have nothing against hunting and am an avid gun owner and shooter myself.) The ridge around Burke's Garden was beautiful, providing many vistas and overlooks. It was easy walking but quite humid, hazy and windy with high clouds and temperatures in the upper 50's. I ran into an interesting day hiker, a very spry young man of 73 that was also very knowledgeable of many of Nature's mysteries. He had hiked the entire trail twice and now had settled down to just enjoying day hikes on selected sections. Burke's Garden and Chestnut Knob were among his favorites. He told me I had a lot to look forward to when I got to McAfee Knob and Tinker's ridge - his favorite in all of Virginia. Two Forest Service rangers were checking out a trail relocation near VA 615.

Burke's Garden VA from Brushy Mountain ridge. Pockets of unmelted snow remain..

I decided to stay at Jenkins shelter, giving myself an easy day. I was ahead of schedule and tired from yesterday's long haul. I used the time and good breeze to wash and dry some trail laundry. I had problems with hyperactive mice that tried to get into my sleeping bag and gear. They were relentless, running over my head twice. I did not sleep well. The privy walls were painted a psychedelic scheme by some woods hippie - and it was a long uphill walk from the shelter.

[Free Spirit]

Dates ........ Saturday, April 21, 2001
Miles ........ 14.3 miles
From ........ Jenkins Shelter
To ............. Helveys Mills Shelter
Weather ... Warm, partly cloudy, hazy 60's and 70's

Little Wolf Creek valley, across Interstate 77.

Tired from a less than decent nights sleep, the little 700 foot climb first thing in the morning was a bit of a grunt. Then, down into the valley the trail ran along and crossed Little Wolf Creek many times. I managed to get some nice pictures and keep my boots dry. After crossing VA 615, it was a long gentle uphill over a series of gentle switchbacks. Now that is the way to climb a mountain! I didn't have to slow down at all, they were so gentle. Halfway up the mountain some wonderful person took the effort to make a pretty little trailside garden of rocks and earth. Several different flowering plants made a pretty display.

One of many pretty crossings of Little Wolf Creek.

Once on the ridge, I descended a bit then traversed the side hills of several knobs with the valley of Bastian VA in sight much of the time. It was gentle hiking but somewhat tedious and repetitive. The high humidity and temperatures in the upper 70's did not help any. I was running low on water. The trail ran onto a ridge and a dirt road that the locals used for a dumping ground. It was sad and disgusting. The dirt road came out on top of the hill at a church on Rt. 52 where they let me have some water and use their phone to call home.

A short roadwalk across Interstate 77 and down the side hill took me to more garbage dumps (obviously SOME Virginians don't care about their environment) and Kimberling Creek. After a grunt of a climb up a hill, I reached Helvey's Mills Shelter, my home for the night. Water was a long, steep walk down into the valley. I bathed myself and washed some clothes. Later, I was joined by Sugar Bear. We were sound asleep at 11 PM when Zach and Dusty rattled into the shelter. They too were out of water, made the trek down the hill and then went to bed. Another night of not-the-greatest sleep.

Dates ........ Sunday, April 22, 2001
Miles ........ 16.3 miles
From ........ Helveys Mills Shelter
To ............. TENT CAMP VA 606 (store) near Kimberling Creek suspension bridge
Weather ... Warm, partly cloudy, hazy 60's and 70's

Kimberling Creek and Wilderness, VA 606

Zach, Dusty, and Sugar Bear at Helveys Mills Shelter.

I was the first one to hit the trail and leave Helveys Mills Shelter. It was a fairly long ridge walk with little change in elevation the first 10 miles then the trail dropped into a valley and climbed back up onto a ridge again, then dropped into the Kimberling Creek Valley and VA 606. It was an unremarkable section of trail. There were few views due to the wooded ridges and most of the trail was around 3000 feet elevation. I arrived at the suspension bridge tired, hot and thirsty. I pushed hard to be there before 5 PM, the time I feared the nearby store closed.

I crossed Kimberling Creek on the elaborate suspension bridge to VA 606 and walked about a half mile up to the general store. It was open until 9 PM. There I ate a half-pound burger, 2 slices of pizza, 2-20 ounce Sprites, and most of a quart of ice cream. Then I got two big burgers to go - one for dinner, one for breakfast, and I called home. While there, several men in corrections officer uniforms came in. They told me the state's largest maximum security facility was right next to the trail, just out of sight on adjacent federal land. That was reassuring. I met Moto at the store and bought him a slice of pizza. The store was directly across from a huge timber-processing mill. The smell of wood and bark permeated the air.

We returned to the clearing on the other side of the suspension bridge and set up camp, Moto sleeping out in the open. Sugar Bear came along and we invited him to join us. He made a run to the store and brought us back soda and orange juice before setting up his tent.

It was a warm, peaceful night along the stream, listening to the sounds of the running water. No prison escapees bothered us.

Sign of a moron.

Dates ........ Monday, April 23, 2001

Miles ........ 15.5 miles
From ........ TENT CAMP VA 606 (store) near Kimberling Creek suspension bridge
To ............. Docs Knob Shelter
Weather ... Mostly sunny, hot and humid, hazy 80's

Dismal Falls, Deer on trail, Flat Top and Pearis Mts, Sugar Run Mt.

I took down my tent, ate my delicious burger for breakfast, crossed the suspension bridge and hit the trail. I took the side trip to the very pretty Dismal Falls and was tempted to take a dip, but it was early in the day. The trail crossed many open areas and horse trails. As it followed Dismal Creek up the foothills. It was easy hiking but very warm and humid. Just before reaching Wapiti Shelter at the base of Sugar Run I succumbed to the temptation of sparkling water rushing over the rocks, took all my clothes off and went skinny dipping. Wow - was that water cold and refreshing! I soaped myself and washed a couple of things then put my clean hiking clothes on to dry as I wore them.

At Wapiti Shelter I got water and met a couple of southbounders breaking for lunch. I studied the map and realized I had quite a grunt of a climb ahead of me - especially in this 80 degree heat. I could go for another dip, but I had mountains to climb - and a very steep 1500 foot climb ahead of me that wasn't going to get done by thinking about it. Flat Top and Pearis Mountains were nearly 4000 feet high with a 500 foot drop in the gap between them.

It was a hell of a grunt in this heat. I was carrying extra water because of the heat but still I had to conserve and resist drinking all I wanted. On the way up a whitetail deer posed for me, not the least bit concerned about my presence. Just below the ridge a trickle of spring water seeped out from underneath a rock. I drank all the water I wanted and replaced it with the treated spring water and washed my head and face in the cool water. On the ridge, a reward waited. An overlook provided a spectacular view back along the ridge I just hiked, across the valley to Pearisburg and along the ridge atop Pearis Mountain. Though hazy, it was inspiring. It always is, when you can see where you have been and where you are going on a hike. I was really looking forward to Pearisburg.

Sugar Run Mountain ridge from the overlook. The trail climbs up the far side (left, center) and follows the ridge.

At the second overlook Moto, Coach, Silver Nipples and I took each others pictures. I arrived at Doc's Knob shelter at 6:45 PM.

Dates ........ Tuesday, April 24, 2001

Miles ........ 15.1 miles
From ........ Docs Knob Shelter
To ............. Star Haven (AKA: Rice Field ) Shelter
Weather ... Cloudy, light rain, humid, hazy 60's and 70's

Pearis Mt.- Goats and Angels Rest, Pearisburg, New River, Mail Drop, Peter's Mt

I was out of Doc's Knob shelter and on the trail at 7:40 A.M., eager to get into Pearisburg. Except for one brief but terribly steep climb, it was pretty much a level ridgewalk. At one point I was following a trail parallel to some powerlines and I had the distinct feeling that I was not headed in the right direction. I could not find any blazes, though this was clearly a trail. Before going any further I backtracked to where I saw the last blaze. On the way there I saw the double blaze indicating the turn in the trail I missed. It goes up there???? That's damn near straight up. And so it was, almost vertical, right straight up to the ridge. Not something I wanted to do in the heat of another high 70's day. But it had to be done. At least I had the company of white blazes again.

The ridgewalk would have been another heavily wooded, rather uninteresting trudge along a mountain ridge except for the surprise I met up with. I sat on a log to rest and sip some water when I herd the jingle-jingle of a bell - or bells. They got closer and closer. Then I saw one - then two - then a third goat. Two of them were wearing cowbells. This was no pasture, though. Clearly these were escapees. Goats on the lamb. I took a couple of pictures and tried to coax them near, but they remained a safe distance. I got up and they took off at a quick pace.

Goats along the trail on Pearis Mt.

The trail started to descend through heavy rhododendron thickets and a massive rock formation. I came to Angels Rest. I followed the blue blazes out to View Rock and enjoyed a spectacular view of the valley below, the New River and Pearisburg. It was hazy and felt like it might rain, so I did not linger.

Pearisburg and New River Valley from Angel's Rest.

The trail down to the valley was a series of steep, sometimes very steep, switchbacks. I was grateful for my light pack and hiking sticks. So far - no knee trouble. If this 2000-foot descent didn't make my knees seize up, nothing would. I was glad I was going downhill but knew that I soon would be climbing an equally nasty mountain once I crossed the valley. I reached town and headed for the post office - up a long, steep road. On the way I found a pay phone and called home. All was well. At the top of the hill I stopped at Dairy Queen and got pork BBQ and giant strawberry shake. My plan was to get my resupply at the Post Office and then pick up more to eat and a couple subs or sandwiches to go for dinner and breakfast. I did not plan on staying in town since I had arrived before noon. Many other hikers were planning a stay at the Holy Family Hospice Hostel. Though ahead of schedule, I wanted to move on. I knew I had a rugged and challenging 2000-foot climb ahead of me and I wanted to get it over with well before dark.

There were other hikers at the post office - two with two dogs. I got my mail drop which included the usual food plus some clean clothes. When no one was looking, I quickly slipped out of my boots and made an even quicker pants change in the corner of the post office lobby. I sent back the pants I was wearing and some other dirty clothes, my exposed film and trail guides and maps for the trail I had covered. As I was finishing up my pack it began to rain. Another hiker came in and offered me a ride to the trailhead. I accepted and hopped in the back of an open pickup - the front was full. Shortly, I was out of town, across the New River at the trailhead. It was raining vigorously. As the truck pulled away I suddenly remembered I had not executed my food plan - I forgot to get more food, in such a hurry to take advantage of the ride. Oh well, I'd have to make do with what I had. I always carried a full days reserve food, anyway.

The trailhead was across from a huge Celenex plant. It was some kind of manufacturing plant that sprawled for hundreds of acres, made noise you could hear for miles and miles, and emitted a strong sulfur-like odor. Not exactly an ideal environment for the AT but probably Pearisburg's single largest employer. A nearby stream was thick with algae and had warning signs posted: Polluted Water - Do Not Drink. Over the hill I came across a much larger stream and treated some water to drink. Then I climbed the nose of Peters Mountain, all the while in sight, sound and smell of that industrial plant. It was an exhausting climb even with my light pack. The high humidity made me sweat profusely.

Finally, I made the ridge and followed it to the shelter. The map had two different names for it and the guidebook had a name that was different from the one on the shelter. It was either the Star Haven or Rice Field shelter, depending on what you believed. It was a fairly new shelter but had one serious drawback. Water was at a tiny trickle of a spring one half mile away and about 300 -400 feet down, if not more. It was a 30 minute trek (round trip) for water but the alternative, no water, was not an option.

Kineo, a hiker from Maine was at the shelter when I arrived. Moto, Silver Nipples and Coach came along later. The two hikers with the two dogs did not show up, thankfully. The shelter was at the edge of an open field that sat on the ridge overlooking a beautiful, expansive valley. The view was incredible. That night we were treated to an awe inspiring sunset. Though windy and getting cold, Moto and Coach chose to sleep out in the open on the edge of the ridge and soak up the view. As the sunset faded into dusk and the lights came on in the valley below, and the stars came out, it was truly an inspirational place to be. What an unforgettable view. It truly made the climb worth it.

Beautiful valley below Star Haven (Rice Field) shelter.

Dates ........ Wednesday, April 25, 2001

Miles ........ 16.2 miles
From ........ Star Haven (AKA: Rice Field ) Shelter
To ............. Bailey Gap Shelter
Weather ...

Peters Mt. Ridge (3900'el), Big Mt.(3750'el), USAF Jets overhead

I left the shelter and continued the trek along Peter's Mountain ridge. It was a moderate ridgewalk for 7 miles at 3400-3700 ft. elevation until Dickenson Gap, then it turned into a climb followed by a brief sharp descent and another brief climb, then a long 1500 foot descent into Stony Creek Valley and past Pine Swamp shelter, where I took a short break.

Looking ahead to Peter's Mt. ridge and Dickinson Gap.

Along the ridge several delta wing jets flew toward me very low and, upon reaching the ridge, turned sharply and climbed steeply. It was awesome, impressive and very noisy. I found myself enjoying another AT air show. Later I learned that pilots doing this may have been involved in Navy radar training for offshore ships hundreds of miles away. Whatever the case, it sure did provide the hiker on the ridge with plenty of excitement! Silver and Coach passed me on the ridge while I was taking a drink and converting my pants to shorts by removing the legs. The other two never did catch up.

At the bottom of the descent from Pine Branch Shelter the trail came within 100 feet of VA 635 and a USFS parking area, marked with a big sign. From that point on to the "official" VA 635 crossing the trail took a nasty, unnecessary and impractical series of steep, badly eroded, short climbs and descents, switchbacks and rough trail to avoid what could have been a short, pleasant roadwalk along a quiet section of road. This was one of the few times I actually felt angry with the folks that laid out the trail. If I had it to do over again, I'd have walked the 100 feet to the USFS parking area and VA 635 clearly visible from the trail, and had a pretty, relaxing and gentle roadwalk to the point a couple of miles further north where the trail crosses VA 635. It would have cut out a lot of unnecessary and unpleasant crap.

Let me also add my dissatisfaction with the AT Conference / USFS maps at this point: they are poorly detailed and with their crude 100 foot contour interval and lack of wide area coverage they are virtually useless for serious orienting. They serve as a crude guide, at best. I much prefer maps similar to the PA series, which are the standard topographical maps, marked up to include the AT and its features. At least with good maps a hiker can know where he is and make intelligent choices. Enough complaining.

After the VA 635 crossing, there was a short section of trail that went through a pine forested valley. Very pretty, cool and refreshing. Then the trail ascended Big Mountain steeply 1300 feet to Bailey Gap and the shelter there. It was a challenging and tedious, though not difficult, climb. Hot, sweaty and tired, I was the only one at the shelter. I went to the spring and got my water supply for the evening and morning. All alone at the shelter, I was in bed by 7:00 PM. Barred owls hooted to each other, one was very close.

Dates ........ Thursday, April 26, 2001

Miles ........ 17.7 miles
From ........ Bailey Gap Shelter
To ............. TENT CAMP next to Sinking Creek at VA 630 trail crossing (Base of Sinking Creek Mt.)
Weather ... Frosty cold 28 degF AM then warming to upper 70's, 80.

Wind Rock (4100'el) vista, Big black snake, Potts Mt. (4128'el), White Rocks, Salt Pond Mt. (4054'el), Lone Pine Peak (4054'el), Red Roof Farmhouse VA Rt 42 (nice people)

It was a frosty, cold morning at 28 degrees. I was one full day ahead of schedule and starting to think about getting home. This made me confident that I would get home without using any of my reserve days. The weather forecasts called for more of the same - cool nights, summer-like days with temperatures in the 70's and 80's and no rain. It did not look like I'd have to take any zero days because of the weather. Nonetheless, I wanted to get further ahead so I could relax my pace in the last few days of my journey.

After a climb of a couple of hundred feet up from the shelter, I had a flat ridge to walk, 7 miles at 3700-4128 feet over Potts Mt. and Wind Rock (4128' el) where I took a series of panoramic pictures of the fantastic view, including Peters Mt. ridge I had just come over. I met Caboose and Mailman, a cute couple that planned to get married after their hike. They were enjoying themselves and I told them not to miss the views from Wind Rock.

White Rocks overlook with Salt Pond Mt. - the trail ahead- left of center.

Pushing on, I passed Lone Pine Peak at 4054' and Salt Pond Mt. before starting an 1800 foot descent into John's Creek Valley. I saw a huge black snake sunning himself across the trail just after Lone Pine Peak. As soon as I reached bottom at John's Creek, I had a 1500 foot climb up John's Creek Mt., a short ridge of 1.5 miles at 3750', then a sharp descent to Laurel Creek shelter. I decided to push beyond the shelter another 2 or 3 miles and camp in the valley since it promised to be such a nice night.

Black snake sunning himself on the AT.

As I hiked down the former pastureland toward the VA route 42 valley, I came to a stile with a small sign - hikers supplies and refreshments at the farmhouse with the red roof. A boy rode up on a bicycle and advised me of cold soda and food - just what every hot and hungry hiker wants to hear! I went to the farmhouse and there was a box of all sorts of canned food and a cooler full of soda and a coffee can of money with a small price list. It was the honor system, evidently. I slugged down a Sprite - icy cold and soooooh good I had another. Then I grabbed a can of peaches and a can of tuna and put my money in the can. The lady of the house and her daughter came out and engaged me in conversation while I enjoyed my second soda. I bought a third can for tonight's camp. She let me in the house to use the phone - I called home and all was OK - and filled my water bottle. They were such nice, friendly people. I wished I could have stayed longer - the smell of her dinner cooking was making my mouth water.

I had to hustle, though. It was getting dark and I had to find a place to camp. I packed up and headed over the hill. Down the other side of the hill at the base of Sinking Creek Mt, was a small creek bearing that name and a road crossing. I set up my tent behind some pines next to the stream and the trail, enjoyed my tuna and soda, hung my gear, washed and brushed my teeth and went to bed. It was very peaceful I was immediately lulled to sleep to the relaxing sound of running water.

Dates ........ Friday, April 27, 2001
Miles ........ 19.5 miles
From ........ TENT CAMP next to Sinking Creek at VA 630 trail crossing (Base of Sinking Creek Mt.)
To ............. CATAWBA, VA The Homeplace Restaurant (slept in gazebo.)
Weather ... 40's in AM, then mid 70-80's in PM, sunny,

Sinking Creek MT (3450'el), Slanted Rocks on Ridge, GOAT LICK, Catawba - nice town, mail drop and Homeplace Restaurant

Peaches for breakfast - what a welcome change. I tore down camp, packed up and headed up Sinking Creek Mountain. I took it slow and steady, taking my time and resting a lot on the way up. The mountain the trail went through an old farm near a powerline right-of-way. There was Keffer's oak - one of the largest standing blazed trees on the AT. It was big, but small compared to the massive "lone wolf" white pine I have back home in my woods.

On the side of Sinking Creek Mt - Keffer Oak, redbuds, an old farm.

This particular section of the AT in Virginia was known for its repetitive nature. That is, a hiker would climb to a high wooded ridge from a low valley or gap, then walk the ridge for several miles, drop into a valley or gap and repeat the process. Sometimes, depending on how far you hiked or how long the ridges were, you could do this three or more times a day. The ascents and descents were often around 1500 feet each, often fairly steep, so you could get tired of this in a hurry. Add to this the fact that there seldom were clear views or vistas, even though you may be 4000 feet up. All you saw was trees. Mile after mile. Climb, see trees, descend, repeat. I was tiring of it.

I'd been on the trail nearly two weeks and was getting very anxious to get home, too. I needed a fantastic reward or adventure to lift my spirits and motivate me. Also, the daily heat was getting to me. I had the hikers blues. Sometimes they manifest themselves in the form of lethargy. Some hikers deal with them by taking zero days in town or at a bar, camp or hostel. I wanted to keep moving; no zero days for me.

Just past Sarvers cabin on the ridge of Sinking Creek Mt., I encountered the slanting rocks. There, the ridge was clear, at least on one side. The views were nice. The footing was tricky, though. I had to be very careful because sometimes the slanting rocks ended abruptly in a cliff and the trail traversed their top edge and the slope of the rocks was steep - if I slipped, it would be a long skid to the bottom resulting in plenty of road rash. There were plenty of places the massive stone was fractured and I had to climb up or jump down. It was fun and different.

Slanting rocks along Sinking Mt. ridge.

As I was carefully navigating and enjoying the ridge I was suddenly and unexpectedly confronted by a goat, standing right on the trail looking at me rather intently. I froze. Then I saw two others nearby. They did not seem timid like the goats I saw on Pearis Mt. What were they going to do? They came right up to me and started licking me. All my exposed skin - my legs and arms. I reached out and petted them. They kept licking. I was surprised and amazed. They were friendly and determined to keep licking me. Even when I gently pushed their head away and wiggled out of my backpack, they came right back for more. I snapped some pictures, knowing that I needed evidence of this phenomenal happening. Here I was at 3500 feet, miles from nowhere, on a rocky mountain ridge being lavishly licked by three adorable goats. ( Two males and a female.) I ran out of film and took my pack off to reload the camera and they started licking that. Anything that had a salt residue. I moved down the trail. They followed. And kept licking. They were totally at home on these steeply sloped rocks and they hopped over them like they were flat green pasture.

The GOAT LICK. One of 3 feral goats licks my sweaty leg.

Reluctantly, I moved on. They had enough salt for a while and nibbled on some foliage. They did not follow me. I think they were waiting for the next hiker, though. They had licked me clean! That was a spirit-lifting experience!

I continued the ridge and began the descent to the valley, passing Niday shelter on the way. There I met two college-age guys that were hiking across America from east to west. They were big guys, in great shape and looked like football players. They had started in Virginia Beach and wanted to include a segment of the AT and PCT in their journey. I wished them well.

I Crossed VA 621 and two streams in Craig Creek Valley, then climbed back onto another ridge where the monument to Audie Murphy was, then descended into Trout Creek valley. Tired, hot and sweaty, I bathed in Trout Creek just out of sight of VA 620. As I was getting dressed, a day hiker came along. I really wanted to make Catawba today, but did not think I had either the energy or drive. I planned on getting as close as I could so I'd be sure to get to the post office before it closed on noon (Saturday). We chatted and he wound up giving me a ride into Catawba, dropping me off at the post office before it closed. He had hiked a lot of the AT and enjoyed helping out fellow hikers. I got my mail drop and sent back my exposed film and trail guides. The lady in the post office was very friendly, helpful and nice.

Catawba was a small crossroads with four things: a country store, PO, the Homeplace restaurant, and a mental institution one mile from the crossroads. Farms completed the rest of the valley. Hungry and reasonably clean and fresh, I headed for the Homeplace. Every trail register for the last several shelters had rave reviews of the food and good treatment there. They were right. I was treated like any other good customer - if not better - and offered a place to stay - they allowed AT hikers to set up camp in their back lawn or stay in any one of their three gazebos and use the restrooms as long as they were open. That resolved where I and a few other hikers were spending the night. Several other hikers had taken rooms in the nearby bed and breakfasts and come here to eat their fill.

After a most satisfying dinner I relaxed in the gazebo in their side yard, a really pretty setting with gardens and horse pasture. It was interesting watching the guests come and go in their assorted finery. A few came over and asked me about my hike. After he closed the restaurant I spread my sleeping bag on the gazebo floor and went to bed.

[Free Spirit]

Dates ........ Saturday April 28, 2001
Miles ........ 16.1 miles
From ........ CATAWBA, VA The Homeplace Restaurant (Back to VA 624)
To ............. Lambert's Meadow Shelter
Weather ... 50 degF Am, sunny, clear, 80 degF PM.

Black Snake, Catawba Mt, Awesome views from McAfee Knob (3197'el), Tinker's Ridge and Cliffs (3000'el).

I got up and was at the country store by 6:30 AM. When I visited yesterday she indicated she'd be happy to fix me breakfast and some sandwiches to go in the morning. The man that was there, however, refused to fix sandwiches or "cook" anything beyond a pot of coffee. HE was quite obstinate and unfriendly, actually. I ate a few bananas and had some pastry and coffee for breakfast while I waited for "the cook" to get there. She arrived and promptly fixed my sandwiches, nicely apologized for my having to wait, then offered to drive me to the trail. I accepted and she drove me to the trail crossing at VA 624. I thanked her, shouldered my pack and hit the trail heading up Catawba Mt.

At the trail crossing and parking area on VA 311, there were lots of cars - weekenders, dayhikers and boy scouts no doubt. I came across the ramshackle Boy Scout Shelter and used their privy, left some surplus food and moved on. Just after that shelter I came across another big black snake sunning himself in the trail. He was a bit aggressive and coiled to strike as I walked around and photographed him. I left him alone and went on my way to the Catawba shelter and spring, which were swarming with 40 boy scouts and their leaders and a few AT hikers. I did not tarry, I pushed on, very eager to stay ahead of that mob if at all possible. Now don't get me wrong - I was a scout and I love scouts but this group of mostly younger scouts was very noisy, rowdy and out of control. As they experienced the wilderness, they diminished the experience for others. That's life.

I had a very steep 1500-foot climb ahead of me to McAfee Knob. On the way up I met a local day hiker that was taking a more challenging route than the AT. I passed more scouts on the way up. When I finally got up there I was awestruck with the panorama laid before me. The top of McAfee Knob is a rock shelf about 30 feet in diameter that juts out from the top. It is probably 200 or more feet straight down from its cliff edge. From left to right I could see a massive mountain ridge to my left - the very one that I had hiked over to get here - a beautiful valley then another massive ridge to my right that ended in a sharp hump but actually made a hairpin bend around further right to a mountain capped with an array of antennas, behind that I could make out the profiles of Sharp Top and Apple Orchard Mountains, then continuing right, behind another ridge of mountains (Green Ridge), into Roanoke VA and the Roanoke airport to the far right. What a beautiful vista. It was inspiring to be able to see Apple Orchard Mt. - the end of my hike.

Free Spirit at McAfee Knob (3197') with tinkers Ridge and Cliffs to right.

The hiker that I met earlier came along and showed me how the AT went from here out along the ridge to the right, up on Tinker's Cliffs atop the hump, then turned and went right to the mountain with the antennas and the towns of Daleville and Troutville, suburbs of Roanoke. From McAfee Knob, Tinkers ridge went northeast in a gentle arch to the cliffs overlooking the valley then turned sharply back, heading southeast. Brushy Mountain and its Green Ridge ran northeast into the crook of Tinkers Ridge turn, with the Carvin Cove (Roanoke) Reservoir hidden from view at the base of its east side. He pointed out the dip in the ridge where Lambert's Meadow Shelter was, where I planned on spending the night. He told me about the magnificent views ahead of me along Tinker's Ridge and Cliffs. I took a series of pictures and moved on. This was the spirit lifting beauty I needed. I was so excited and thrilled by this awesome view that I was literally overwhelmed.

Partial view from McAfee Knob- North Mt. left, Tinkers Ridge and Cliffs right.

I passed through Devil's Kitchen, a fascinating and massive rock formation, on down to Campbell Shelter where I stopped briefly for lunch and water. I was hurrying a bit, trying to stay ahead of the scouts. Most of Tinker's ridge is 2200 to 2500 feet high with a few places offering limited views into the valley below. At the end of the ridge I climbed to 3000 feet and the cliffs atop Tinker Mountain. What magnificent rock formations, cliffs and what an awesome view. Such a view that it defies description - with words or photographs. You simply must experience it to fully appreciate it. For about a mile the AT went right along the very edge of the 100 to 200 foot high rock-faced cliffs. It is not a place for acrophobes, the unsteady, or the faint of heart. One misplaced footstep and you may hurtle off into the hereafter.

Several table rock ledges provided clear panoramic views back to Brush Mt. and the whole expanse of the Appalachians in that area. The views were so dramatic, massive and beautiful that I felt like crying. They really took you're my breath away. This was enough reward for the toils of my entire hike. The views from Tinker Cliffs overlook were the prettiest I had seen in all of the AT, equaling the clear views from Mt. Washington, NH. I was so very happy to be here. I took a few moments to enjoy the scenery and take pictures, and then I heard the unmistakable sound of a herd of scouts coming and moved on.

The AT - right on the edge of the cliffs along Tinkers Ridge. Don't look down.

A hiker takes in the awesome view along Tinkers Ridge and Cliffs.

I am going to get the photos from McAfee Knob blown up and frame them with the trail map showing Tinkers Cliffs. As if the dramatic vistas from Tinkers Cliffs weren't enough to give the hiker a high, the ridge was a mass of wildflowers. Several varieties were in bloom and the air was absolutely heavenly with the scent of azaleas and other flowers. The photo journal I keep at home includes lots of beautiful wildflower photographs.

I was the first to reach Lamberts Meadow Shelter, located near a nice little stream. I did trail laundry, bathed and set up camp. The Pugh family, 4 nice guys out on a family hike for the weekend, joined me. MitoMan came along and filled the small shelter. Then the horde of scouts descended. They were disappointed the shelter was full. There was only a couple of decent tentsites there. We told them of a large streamside campsite only 0.3 miles further along the trail. They set up there, many of the boys sporting very sore feet and sour faces. Another hiker came along and, though the shelter was at capacity, she wedged her smelly self in without asking. Silver came along and set up a tent near the shelter. The Pugh's and I engaged in many conversations that would have been interesting and nice if they weren't repeatedly interrupted and corrected by the know-it-all lone female hiker that joined us.

Sleep did not come that night. The shelter was infested with at least one huge RAT that I came face to face with at 2 AM and lots of big hyperactive mice. The rat annoyed all of us at one point or another, having absolutely no regard for tired hikers. The crowded conditions did not help. Add to that the fact that our dearly beloved solo female snorted, snored and whistled all night in her sleep, keeping all 6 of the other of us awake, it made for a miserable sleepless night. If I had to do it over again, I too would have set up my tent or joined the boy scouts for a night. Bad stuff happens. Not everyone on the trail is likeable, polite and nice. Like the terrain, you have to take the good with the bad.

Dates ........ Sunday April 29, 2001
Miles ........ 9.4 miles
From ........ Lamberts Meadow Shelter
To ............. DALEVILLE/TROUTVILLE EconoLodge motel
Weather ... Sunny, upper 70's

Tinkers Ridge and Mountain, Daleville (civilization, pizza hut, grocers)

Bill Pugh made tea for me; I ate my breakfast and headed out. I had to hike the rest of Tinkers Ridge, the part from the cliffs to Tinkers Mountain at Daleville and the I 81 valley. I was anxious to get to Daleville, get some good food and call home and maybe stay in a real bed in a motel. I hiked past the campsite where the Boy Scouts were staying - it was a lively scene, the kids all rested up and full of energy, ready to go.

The trail was a series of little climbs and descents with plenty of moderate terrain in between. There was an abundance of wildflowers, especially the beautiful pink lady slippers. The trail was quite rocky and solid rock in many of the higher places along the ridge. Views were limited to clearings or rock formations along the trail. It was a warm day and I was consuming lots of water. At a point along the trail, right in the open I came upon 6 cold, unopened cans of orange soda. Were they the work of a trail angel or just some hiker lightening his pack? In either event, Thank you. I drank one and left five for the others coming behind me.

A major power line crossed the trail in several spots, providing the clearings needed for nice views. The towns of Glebe Mills and Daleville came into view on my left, the Carvin Cove (Roanoke) Reservoir , Brushy Mt, McAfee Knob and the west arm of Tinkers Ridge on my right, and Tinkers Ridge west arm and Mountain ahead of me. The reservoir was low. I could see about 4 feet of exposed shoreline that usually would be under water. We needed rain but it was OK with me if it waited until I was through hiking.

From Tinkers Ridge east arm, looking ahead to Tinker Mt and the Blue Ridge. The AT follows the sharply peaked ridge.

I passed through or over several major rock formations of interest, walked underneath the huge slanting rocks of Hay Rock, and even had a few rock scrambles and climbs. A lizard darted across the trail and scampered up a tree. My spirits were very high, in sharp contrast to the trail blues experienced earlier. I was thrilled with the scenery, happy with the weather, and eager to get some real chow, get cleaned up, and call home and arrange for my ride to pick me up early morning rather than late afternoon as planned. I could take my time on the rest of the hike since I was so far ahead of schedule. Take my time and enjoy it.

After a series of steep switchbacks, I descended from Tinker Mountain into the I 81 valley between Daleville and Troutville. I crossed Tinker Creek, went through a field overgrown with honeysuckle and came out right behind the Best Western hotel in Daleville. I got a room in the Econo Lodge across the street - across the hall from the room Brett, John and I stayed in last spring at the beginning of my Petites Gap to MD trek. Then I headed for Pizza Hut next door. There I came upon a bonanza - they were having a one-day special - a medium pepperoni pizza for $4.00. I ordered some beer and three pizzas - two for now, one for later. I went shopping at Krogers to bolster my food supply and provide breakfast. I ate a hearty dinner at the Sizzlin Steakhouse, made my telephone calls, did laundry, showered and had a wonderful nights sleep in a real nice bed.

I had only 47 miles remaining and more than 4 days to cover them. I was looking forward to conquering my nemesis from last spring - Apple Orchard Mountain, which we could not climb because we could not find its entrance road in the extreme dense fog. And I looked forward to getting home.

Dates ........ Monday April 30, 2001
Miles ........ 11.2 miles
From ........ Daleville Econo-lodge Motel
To ............. Wilson Creek Shelter (tent)
Weather ... Hazy, sunny 82 degF

Fullhardt Knob

I started the morning with a long, luxurious hot shower and clean trail duds. I drank a quart of orange juice, two cups of real coffee, ate two doughnuts, a roast beef sub, a pastry and a couple of bananas for breakfast.

I picked up the trail right near Pizza Hut. I took a parting photo of the suburbs of Daleville and headed for Troutville, the I 81 crossing, and Fullhardt Knob. There were a lot of nice houses in the area, occupying what was once farmland. The days heat was taking a toll, though the miles were coming easier now that I had two weeks of hiking to condition me.

It was a moderate 1200 foot climb up Fullhardt Knob to its shelter. A unique cistern system collected and stored rainwater from its roof, but it was bone dry. The woods were real dry too, kind of like walking on corn flakes when you stepped off the trail. I had lunch and moved on, filling up on water at the Curry Creek crossing.

Looking ahead to Fullhardt Knob.

I arrived mid afternoon at the Wilson Creek shelter. After tending to my water needs, I stretched out shirtless on the picnic table to soak up some sun and relax. A couple of interesting day hikers came by to get water. Then a couple of long distance hikers - Skid and Curt come by. Skid, a man of considerable size, was using two shovel handles for walking sticks. Curt was using an ancient '60's aluminum frame backpack and preferred sleeping under the stars when weather permitted. I enjoyed interesting conversations with them both.

Then my least favorite female hiker came along and that was the end of pleasant conversation. I removed my gear from the shelter set up my tent 50 yards away. She had the entire shelter to herself. (After my experience of April 28-29 at the Lamberts Meadow Shelter I knew why!) I listened to a strange bird sing all night and heard owls calling from hilltop to hilltop. (I much preferred that to an assortment of snorts, wheezes, whistles and snores.) The distant sound of a train whistle was musical and peaceful and helped lull me to sleep. It was the perfect night to be in a tent.

Dates ........ Tuesday May 1, 2001
Miles ........ 7.3 miles
From ........ Tent at Wilson Creek Shelter
To ............. Boblets Gap Shelter
Weather ... Hazy, sunny 82 degF

Blue Ridge Parkway and overlooks

I took my time getting ready in the morning, hitting the trail at 8:30. I could tell it was going to be another hot day. It was cool and comfortable hiking on the shaded side of the mountain; hot and sticky on the sunny side. I met "Wrong Way" on the trail - a forest service volunteer / hiker that was out planting trees. An interesting, informative fellow, he had a pack full of water and tree seedlings. I had the thought I was meeting the "Johnny Appleseed" of the AT. God bless him.

The trail closely (too closely, thank you) parallels the Blue Ridge Parkway (BRP ) for this whole section. Having only a little over 7 miles to hike, I really took my time on this hot day. Relaxing at one of the many overlooks and trail crossings along the BRP I met up with 6 guys that called themselves "the Old Men of the Cloth", though none were ministers. They were a group of spunky senior hikers out for a circuit hike, thoroughly enjoying themselves.

Blue Ridge Parkway with Peaks of Otter - Sharp Top Mt, center. Note haze, from which the "Blue Ridge" gets its name.

It was just about noon when I reached the shelter. I thought about pushing on, but decided against it. I'd just wind up waiting at my pickup point, anyway. Instead, I relaxed, laid in the sun again, and waited for some other hikers to come by.

Late afternoon they started to drift in. There was Mr. Pat, Spur, a couple from Vermont, Jamie Dolan and his wife, and Charlie. They were a fun group with many interesting and lively conversations. We turned in early and got a good night sleep.

Dates ........ Wednesday May 2, 2001
Miles ........ 13.3 miles
From ........ Boblets Gap Shelter
To ............. Bryant Ridge Shelter
Weather ... Hazy, humid, sunny 82 degF

Bearwallow Gap (2228'el) & Blue Ridge Parkway, Jennings Creek (951'el), Cove Mt (2720'el) and Fork Mt. (2042'el)

I got an early start, on the trail by 7 AM, hoping to beat some of the heat. Shortly after starting out I had to make a decision: follow the blazes and evidently new, relocated, undocumented trail, or follow the old trail without blazes, but with a map and guide. I hate these new, undocumented relocations. They are dangerous - if you miss the trail, or get confused, you have no map or guide to fall back on. And, as I mentioned previously, the Virginia National Forest Service / AT maps are next to useless. I decided that the new trail had enough blazes and evidence of fresh work, that it probably could be followed with no problem. I was right, but boy was it a significant relocation - adding a couple of miles to the trail, probably. Anyway, I came out where I wanted to, in Bearwallow Gap.

This area is extremely rich with wildflowers - especially Trillium. It was also full of a rich and very interesting history. In the 1850's two slaves took their axes to a mean overseer, were hunted down and hung from a tree limb near the present AT. In 1910 a lumberman named Hendricks borrowed 125,000. dollars to buy a powerful, gear driven locomotive to haul raw timber out of the mountains. He tripled the load of logs, lost control on a steep grade and jumped from the out-of-control train just before it crashed into Cornelius Creek, causing bankruptcy. In the 1930's, a freed slave was tending his tobacco crop when a raging Jennings Creek (AT crossing water source) swept away the shack he took refuge in, along with the 300 dollars in gold he had just received for the sale of his crop. His body was found but the gold coins were not. (History excerpted from AT guidebook.)

It was another hot, humid day when any exertion caused me to sweat buckets. I carried extra water and "cameled up" at every stream crossing. I refreshed myself by splashing cold water on my head, face, arms and legs at every opportunity. This was too much like hiking in July. I had a fairly regular amount of miles to hike today with a 500 and 1100 foot climb (Fork Mt.), so I kept moving at my regular pace. The trail broke away from the BRP after a couple of miles and headed into the wilderness. The trail guide, though providing interesting history and many useful pieces of information, once again, after Bearwallow Gap, came nowhere near matching the actual trail; neither did the map. And, to make matters worse, the blazes were few and far between. Several times I found myself uncomfortable with staying the course because of uncertainty. I sure as hell didn't want to get lost out here.

I took a brief lunch break at Cove Mt. Shelter. A couple of day hikers on a circuit hike, Mr. Pat and my least favorite female hiker came by.

Just before Jennings Creek I met the nicest team of AT trail workers. They were mostly senior citizens and wonderful people. They were grooming the trail, working up as much of a sweat as I was on this hot, humid day. One, a Frenchwoman, came all the way over from France to work on our AT. I shook each of their hands and thanked them very much. Without volunteers like them, there would be no AT; at least not a free one, anyway! After I met them, I heard the refreshing sound of running water and Jennings Creek where I broke for lunch with Mr. Pat and Night Train. I really wanted to take my clothes off and take a swim, but it was alongside a busy road and crawling with fishermen, so, reluctantly, I settled for splashing myself down with the cool water.

Night Train - one of the many interesting and nice characters I met - taking a break at Jennings Creek.

I did not look forward to the 1100 foot climb of Fork Mt. in this heat, but I had to do it. I sweated, grunted and put one foot in front of the other until I was over the hump. It was a nice glide downhill to the Bryant Ridge Shelter through a few uncertainties of whether or not I was actually on the trail.

Suddenly, where I did not expect it to be was the infamous Bryant Ridge shelter. They (the AT folks) had not moved the shelter, just the way into it! It was a grand, two-story structure of post and beam construction, lots of porches and balconies, and lots of room. It also had lots of water nearby. A bird, probably a barn swallow, was nesting in the upper level, so I stayed away from that. I took advantage of the nearby streams to get water, do trail laundry and bathe. Please note that I always am careful not to bathe or do laundry in anybody else's water source; I carry the water and wash away from the stream. As I was getting water for my bottle, just about dusk, a mink darted from a hole in the opposite stream bank, swam and ran across the stream right up to me until it realized I was there, whereupon it did a very quick about face. Startled as much as he must have been, I fumbled for my camera but was way too slow for this sleek and fast moving creature. It was the first mink I ever saw in the wild.

Corn Dog was there, Mr. Pat and Night Train came along, and then my least favorite female came by but moved on after a rest and water stop. I hated to see the guys go. Shortly before dark, a 73-year young trail veteran, Linde came by. He was amazing. He'd hiked the trail before, did not hike shelter to shelter or camp to camp, but hiked alone sunup to dark, making camp wherever he was at the time. He was hiking 28 to 35 miles a day and was traveling extremely light - just a rucksack, essentials and no hiking sticks, and wearing sneakers. He was the only through hiker I ever saw that carried next to nothing but was equipped with an umbrella. He only stayed long enough to say hello, answer our questions, then disappeared off into the forest. Simply amazing - and mighty inspirational. God, please grant me the ability to do that at 73.

Linde - another nice character - traveling light, fast, and 73 years young.

So, it was just Corn Dog and I. He was an interesting, young fellow, taking a trail break in the midst of formulating his life plan, on the way to becoming a psychologist. (Surely, I and the other hikers, especially the through hikers, were interesting subjects for him!) It was about 9:30, well after dark and both of us were comfortably asleep when Big Bird stumbled into the shelter - literally. With no flashlight, damn few trail blazes, no map or guidebook, relying only on the bright moon and directions from a store owner five miles distant, he followed the stream up to the shelter and brought his prized possession with him; a six-pack of beer. He was lost, admittedly, but got lucky. Very lucky. He offered us a beer, I accepted. After all, it's the least he could do for waking us.

Big Bird is the quintessential, self-confessed Yellow Blazer. (Yellow Blazer is a less than complimentary term used to describe someone that gets between trail points by means other than their own two-legged propulsion, but usually pretends to be "hiking" the trail.) He was the other "hiker" I'd met back in Pearisburg, riding in the pickup truck. His reputation preceded him thanks to the trail network and register entries, and his swearing " I aint doin no more yellow blazin from now on"! I feel each man is entitled to his own hike, whatever it is! I loaned him a flashlight so he could set up his bed with minimal disruption. He quaffed his warm beer and settled in for the night.

Finally, all was peaceful and we were lulled back to sleep to the sound of water babbling and distant owls hooting at one another.

The unique and beautiful Bryant Ridge Shelter.

Dates ........ Thursday May 3, 2001
Miles ........ 10.3 miles
From ........ Bryant Ridge Shelter
To ............. Thunder Hill Shelter
Weather ... Hazy, humid, sunny 82 degF

Floyd Mt. (3560'el), Apple Orchard Mt. (4225'el), Radar Dome, Guillotine Rocks

It was a warm, hazy, humid morning - 62 degrees at sunup. I had one of my biggest climbs ahead of me - over 3500 feet up Floyd Mt (3560'el) and then my nemesis - Apple Orchard Mt. (4244'el). The 10 mile hike was almost all uphill. Apple Orchard was the mountain that eluded me in the heavy rain and fog of April 2000. It was my intended starting point, my first climb of that hike, but we could not find it that soggy day so we started at Petite's Gap, about 7 miles north. Traversing the summit of Apple Orchard Mt. was to be one of my biggest rewards.

Shortly after leaving Bryant Ridge Shelter I was treated to some pretty waterfalls along Hamps Branch Creek, then I began the assault on Floyd Mt, climbing 2200 feet in the next 4.5 miles. It was steep, hot and sweaty but I continued at a steady pace, each step taking me higher and closer to my goal. I cameled up, drinking all the water I could hold, knowing water would be scarce on the mountain. On the way up I saw the summit of Apple Orchard looming in the hazy distance, easily identifying the huge radar dome protruding from its mountaintop.

Just over the summit of Floyd Mt. I took a lunch and water break at Cornelius Shelter with Harry Carey, the ex navy hiker I met on the first day of my hike. The area was heavily covered with thick, lush rhododendron. Even at these high elevations, where one usually finds comfort in a mountain breeze, the day was now approaching a very humid and sticky 80 degF. The hiking became uncomfortably hot and sweaty as I climbed the last 1400 feet up Apple Orchard Mt. in the still air. I was motivated to make the summit despite the heat or other challenges - I was thinking about home sweet home and over that mountain was the way to get there.

Suddenly, at 1:40 P.M., I broke into a clearing with the huge overbearing radar dome - the summit of Apple Orchard Mt. I could hear the whir and hum of equipment. The dome wasn't pretty; it and all its support equipment cluttered the mountaintop, but it was probably necessary, and here I was. There was no view because of the extreme haze. Very disappointed, I took a few photos and moved on. I hiked down through the Guillotine, a most interesting rock formation. Then I crossed the Blue Ridge Parkway. There, the ground there was literally covered with crickets - fly-sized grasshopper type bugs all along the roadside. They made an eerie noise as they scampered, hopped and flew about. I crossed the road and descended into Thunder Hill Shelter for my last night on the trail.

Free Spirit nears the summit of Apple Orchard Mt and its radar dome.

There was no one at the shelter when I arrived. I got water, took a sponge bath and set up my sleeping gear then stretched out on the picnic table to relax in the sun. I could hear traffic noises from the nearby parkway. Harry Carey joined me, and then Brian and Michelle, a nice young couple from Connecticut joined us. They had been slumming about Florida and parts of the AT for about 6 months - enough for them. They were trying to figure the best way to get home.

Brian at Thunder Hill shelter.

Dates ........ Friday May 4, 2001

Miles ........ 4.7 miles
From ........ Thunder Hill Shelter
To ............. Petites Gap - END OF TREK.
Weather ... Sunny, hazy, 80 degF

Descend Apple Orchard Mt, Thunder Hill (4100'el) to PETITES GAP (2369'el) and Blue Ridge Parkway - Home Sweet Home.

It was a warm night with everyone sleeping on top of their sleeping bags. It was peaceful until about 2 AM when Harry Carey went to the privy and a deer barked at him, startling everyone - especially him. I hit the trail early. I had only 4.7 miles, mostly downhill to hike to Apple Orchard Gap, but I had to be there by 10 AM. I was on the trail by 6:30. The northeast slope of Apple Orchard Mt. was rich with fields of trillium and lots of other wildflowers.

I came to Thunder Ridge Overlook, 3501 feet elevation, a man-made pulpit style overlook off the BRP and was disappointed at the hazy view so early in the morning. The switchbacks down to Petites Gap were gentle and easy. I knew they would not appear that way if I were going up the mountain.

AT 8:30 I reached Petites Gap. I changed into my cleaner hiking duds and went out to a nice shady spot on the edge of the BRP turnoff. A US Forest Service employee came by and we had a pleasant conversation about her job and the beautiful area she worked in. My good friend and neighbor Jim Yeich arrived at the appointed hour, bringing me a fresh change of clothes and a ride home.

Free Spirit and Jim Yeich at Petite's Gap - the end of this trek. Thank you, Jim!

No matter how wonderful the adventure or how beautiful the area, there is no place as sweet as home. Home Sweet home.