The Promised Land is in sight...and it looks an awful lot like New Jersey

Now, I know I've built this up way too much in my mind. That realistically, the trail will not morph into a flat, grassy path rolling through fields of wildflowers, with overly tanned guys named Guido popping up every few miles offering hot pastrami sandwiches. I realize that Jersey won't be quite that idyllic. But the important thing is that it will NOT be Pennsylvania. And we cannot get out of this state fast enough.
The last few days with the rocks--ugh. First, there was the utterly pointless and slightly scary climb up Lehigh Gap, after which Pancho had a small meltdown. Followed by the trek across an open ridge, baking in the sun, through an EPA Superfund site. Very scenic. Then yesterday morning, with only 20 miles to Delaware Water Gap and the Jersey line, we decided we were going to make it. To hike our longest day with full packs and to get the hell out of PA.
The first 10 miles were more of the same rocky nightmare, leading to my own minor meltdown. After some lunch and some drugs and slightly better trail conditions, things were looking up and we were headed for town. Crossing a ridge about 5 miles out, the thunder, lightning, and torrential rain began. Wind blowing the rain sideways. Tornado sirens going off in the valley below us. Pennsylvania giving us a giant two-bird salute. Back atcha, PA.
We finally rolled into town, scored a room in an 1856 inn (huge Second Empire with awesome porches. Pix to come...), played trivia in the bar with 2 hiker buddies, drinking $2 Yuenglings. Pretty good end to the day. And took today off. Heading to a BBQ for hikers at the local church, then back to the inn bar for live jazz.
I do have to qualify my anti-PA rant. The southern part of the state was great for hiking, with rolling fields, lots of historic farms, and great shelters. The northern part sucks as far as hiking conditions go, and has some truly awful shelters. Overflowing privy--I'll say no more. But throughout the state, we've met some awesome people. The local folks at the Port Clinton Hotel bar, who were loads of fun and bought many rounds for the hikers. The boy scout troop we've been hiking with for the past week. Kathy at the Filbert BnB in Danielsville, who picked us up on the road after the rough day in Lehigh Gap with glasses of cold lemonade in the car.
So we're very happy to head into NJ tomorrow, but very thankful for all the folks who made PA bearable.

Slacking and loving it

We’ve had an awesome few days, visiting with Pancho’s mom and my folks. Stayed in Mechanicsburg, and slackpacked our longest day by far—25 miles from Boiling Springs to Duncannon. 

Doyle Hotel, Duncannon, PA.

Leaving Duncannon, looking down on the bridge
on which we crossed the Susquehanna.

Had a beer at the Doyle Hotel, one of the classic hiker bars along the AT. It’s 100+ years old, built by the Anheuser Busch company, and definitely a bit of a dive. Recommended for food and beer, not so much for lodging. Duncannon is definitely the antithesis of Boiling Springs, which is super cute and rather upscale. Some very cool, very old houses.

Garter snake. Who clearly just ate a somewhat chipmunk-sized snack.

Suck it in and squeeze through. Note the blaze on the left.

Getting ready to head into the field. PA.

House and old power plant (on left), Boiling Springs, PA.

PA has been very interesting so far. We’ve hiked through corn, cow, and hay fields and seen some amazing and enormous old barns. We haven’t hit the awful part of PA yet, in the north, where the trail is apparently a field of sharp, pointy rocks that torture ankles and chew up boots. This area is mostly flat, but disturbingly full of large poisonous snakes. Pancho had his first experience with The Rattle yesterday. One of those sounds hardwired into our genetics, to just freeze you in place. Hiking along a ridge, through some rocks, we heard it. He starts backing up, going “oh shit, oh shit.” And there was a good sized timber rattler all coiled up in the sun. I took out the camera, snapped a few shots, then as I turned to put the camera away, I spy the other snake, coiled about 4 feet away. Not nearly as dramatic as other hikers through this section, who have seen 4-5 copperheads, often at the same time.

For the last couple of days, we’ve been staying in Marysville, at a nice little BnB on the shore of the Susquehanna, right by the Rockville Stone Arch train bridge. My dad has been watching trains all day after they drop us off at the trail so we can hike. 

Hiked by a couple of abandoned coal mining villages today. One, at Yellow Springs, was deep in the woods. In the 1850s. I can’t imagine getting the equipment in there. And I think my pack is heavy. Also saw a diversion well on the creek in Rausch Gap, trying to improve the pH of the water, in order to allow fish to live there. Very interesting—passing the creek water over crushed limestone.

Rausch Gap RR bridge.

Diversion well, Rausch Gap PA.

Swatara Creek Bridge. Built 1890. Now an AT footbridge.

On the deck at Bridgeview BnB. The Rockville Stone Arch Bridge is in the background, across the Susquehanna.

A good hiking day and educational, too. We did over 17 miles, without much effort, which would not have been possible for Pancho, just one month ago. Not to mention the fact that he’s lost about 25 pounds so far. Really, really proud of him! Tomorrow, my folks head south and we head north, next town stop in Danielsville, PA.

Trail Dynamics

You gotta love the trail dynamics. People hook up—often platonically, sometimes, not—people break up. There are fights, there are reunions. And you usually find this all out in the shelter registers or by third or fourth hand word of mouth. We had encountered a couple (guy and girl) hiking together some time ago. So, late last week, we learned that they were not a couple (he has a wife at home), and that their hiking partnership was rather one-sided, in her direction. Then we discovered her tendency to overshare, about things like her lady business. Which apparently aggravated her hiking partner to the point of break-up.

So we arrive at the Pine Grove Furnace Store, where everyone is on the porch eating ice cream, and fall right into their personal issues. He moves to one end of the porch, she follows. He says nothing, but gets up and moves to the other side. Oy. Then she latches onto us, which we belatedly realized was because no one else was talking to her. Hated junior high then, don't like it anymore now.

The AT Museum at Pine Grove Furnace SP, a former iron smelting site in PA.

General Store, Pine Grove Furnace SP, home of the Half-gallon Challenge

And the prize for completing the challenge? A little wooden ice cream spoon
labelled in ink that disappears when wet or sweaty. 

Green Mountain Store, PA. Very tasty meatball subs. A little slice of heaven
for hungry hikers, with very friendly folks.

Making miles

Heading out the C & O canal towpath,
leaving Harper's Ferry, WV

 I know it has been a while, but we had a long, hard week (and hot!) of long hiking days, followed by a week of long hiking days in town. Out of Harper’s Ferry, we started with our longest day, 18 miles and change, stopping at the Dahlgren backpacker campground. Great little place with picnic tables, bathrooms, and showers. Slightly grotty, but a shower nonetheless. There was also much entertainment to be had. One of the chief sources of entertainment on the trail is bearbagging. Or at least, watching others try to bearbag.

Pancho crossing the river at Harper's Ferry, WV

In most areas, you should hang your food and anything scented from a tree limb, 10 feet up and 4 feet out from the trunk. Bears are pretty wily, and you hear some awesome stories about them snagging even the best-placed bags. Many shelters and campgrounds have poles where you can hang your bag, though that process can be even more trying than hanging in a tree. Well, this campground had the shortest pole ever. One of our fellow hikers was about 6’4” and basically just reached up to hang his bag. Let’s hope the bears are shorter, huh? So the section hikers next to us were on their second night out. He was in the woods, crashing around for at least 45 minutes. No go. So he drags her out with him, with their headlamps, since it had gotten dark. Don’t know where that bag ended up, but it took a helluva long time. Then, there was suddenly the distinctive sound of a tree falling in the forest. I turn to Eric and say, “tell me that wasn’t ours.” Oh no. That was the guy, who thought it would be better to hang his entire backpack in a tree, which was clearly not up for the challenge. Oy.

War Correspondents Memorial, Gathland State Park, MD

Barn ruins at Gathland SP

We did some of our longer miles between Harper’s Ferry and Duncannon, the location of our next maildrop. Mostly 17-18 mile days, so we were generally exhausted, and with the heat, pretty uncomfortable. My folks wanted to come up for a visit over the weekend, while we were in the Duncannon area. It happened to be Pancho’s birthday, so we invited his mom to come over from DC, planning to pick us up in Boiling Springs, PA, then slackpack us over the weekend.

On the way to Boiling Springs, we hit the AT midpoint. Well, sort of. In reality, it changes from year to year, depending on any re-routing of the trail. One of the many trail traditions is the half-gallon challenge: eating a full half-gallon at Pine Grove Furnace State Park, just short of the halfway point. Since we just started a month ago, we haven’t hit the hiker hunger yet, so we passed up the challenge, knowing we wouldn’t be able to get it done. But we watched several others walking it off—as one hiker put it, after finishing his ice cream in 53 minutes, “no sudden movements.”

Hiking across MD

Do you see a trail here? Not so much.

Cool sign. Not too accurate.
Pen-Mar County park, MD-PA border

Leaving the "Y'all Zone." Bless our hearts.

Mosquito evasion, phase 1.

Mosquito evasion, phase 2. Resorting to the sonic screwdriver.

Technical issues....

If you're wondering why that last post was all pix and no text, there were a few technical issues. So here comes a little more info about the last week.
As we came to the end of SNP, the temps started to soar, hitting the mid and high nineties. One day, we passed a man and his kids, and, being friendly and helpful, he offers that it was 94 that day and supposed to be even hotter the next day. After we walked on a bit, I realized that I was a lot happier when it was just really freaking hot, without any number value attached. Just quantifying it made it seem so much worse. We decided to head into Front Royal VA, to do some more slackpacking. So we caught a ride with Mike, another amazing trail angel who runs a hiker hostel in Front Royal, at Gravel Springs Gap. He sent us along to an awesome little bar in Front Royal, the Lucky Star Lounge. Good food, cider on tap, and great live tunes every night. Highly recommended if you're ever in the area.
It was a tough week, with two 20 mile slackpacks--our longest hikes so far--and a ride on the roller coaster--a 13.5 mile section with 13 ascents/descents. Along the way, we met Junker, former thru-hiker and current ridgerunner, who told us some great stories and dropped our packs off in Harper's Ferry so we could hike the last 20 miles into town. We stayed at the Bear's Den, a great hostel run by the Potomac ATC, located in a former summer home that looks like a stone castle. Unfortunately, we ran into Johannes, the Swedish guy we met over the weekend, who was stuck there with a stomach bug. He's got a really tight schedule because of his visa, and now he may not be able to finish.
It was a pretty dramatic arrival in Harper's Ferry. We decided we might make it to town in time to pick up our mail drop at the post office, so we were pushing hard. Then Eric started to develop a blister and had to take a break with about 3 miles to go. So, since I'm a faster hiker, he told me to go ahead and get to the post office. So I took off, hauling ass down the trail. I burst through the door at 4:10, thinking I was golden. And it was dark. Closed at 4. I was determined not to start crying in the lobby of the Harper's Ferry post office. Just not going to do it. So I heard people inside and stuck my head into the mail slot, calling for help. The postal employees ignored me. I went outside and around to the back. There I found a lady on the loading dock, smoking. I told her I had just run the last three miles to get there, and was there ANY way I could get my packages. She said "well bless your heart, honey, we'll get 'em just as soon as I finish my cigarette." I have never been so grateful for a smoke break. After she got my packages and made my whole day, I headed down the street to the hotel. Another lady--going the opposite direction--stopped and asked if I needed a ride. She turned around and drove me to the hotel, then invited us to her house for lemonade. Trail magic, indeed.
We had a much needed day off today, spent hanging out with friends Scott and Tammy, and my awesome goddaughter, Evie, who made me two very cool bracelets to wear on the trail. Thanks, guys, it was a great day!!

One of the great things about SNP is the plethora of opportunities to feed. There are lodges, campgrounds, and waysides with all sorts of unhealthy, tasty foods throughout the park. So we got plenty of hotdogs, Fritos, beer, and the SNP special—the blackberry milkshake. Sunday morning, we hit Skyland Lodge for breakfast. Awesome. We ate with Johannes, a thru-hiker from Sweden, trying to complete the trail in 4 months, before his visa expires. Shortly after we left Skyland, we had a small world moment, when we met a couple sitting at one of the picnic areas. He’s a thru-hiker named Photon, and his wife had come up to visit for the holiday weekend. Turns out they’re from Jasper, just up the road from Canton, where I grew up.

Leaving Skyland Lodge.

Waiting for our ride at Gravel Springs Gap.

Getting ready to get on the rollercoaster--13.5 miles, with 13 descents/ascents.

The Bear's Den Hiker Hostel.

Pancho and Pancake Mike at the Blackburn Center.

Cleo, aka Mountain Slut, the Blackburn Center kitty.

Bambi in SNP.

Our first new state!

WV vista.

Lions and tigers and--you know the rest

We headed out of Waynesboro after our zero day, riding once again with Bill Gallagher, one of the amazing trail angels here in VA. Last year, Bill drove over 11,000 miles, transporting hikers. After he dropped us off at the trailhead, we hiked several miles, down through a field. We came upon a fence with a shelf on it, loaded with bottles of water and a card with Bill’s name and number. He drives out there every morning during the hiking season to provide water for thru-hikers. Of the many great stories he told us, he mentioned that when he was a kid, he read a National geographic article about the AT and told his parents that one day he would do it. He hasn’t actually thru-hiked himself, but he’s helping so many of us to accomplish that goal.

Heading across a field near Waynesboro, VA

A little trail magic, courtesy of Bill Gallagher

From Waynesboro, we headed into Shenandoah National Park (SNP). Gotta admit, we did not particularly enjoy our Shenandoah experience. For us, the shelters weren’t spaced well—either too short or too long a hiking day. Not to mention the fact that it was a holiday weekend, so people and dumbassery everywhere. Our first night, we stopped and stealth camped a few miles short of one of the shelters. I should point out here that SNP is one of the most bear-intensive sections of the trail. Bears—and all wildlife—are so acclimated to people that they will approach you for food. So we were very strict with our bear-bagging procedures. We’re lying in our tent that night, I’m half asleep, when Eric pokes me and asks what we do when the bear is outside the tent. Pause. I know what to do on the trail when I encounter a bear, but honestly? In the tent? Not a clue. So we lay there for a LONG time, listening to the bear circle us, being as still and quiet as possible. We also started collapsing our hiking poles and keeping them in the tent, so we would at least have some sort of poking implement.

We ran into more issues with bears in SNP. The next day, we found out a shelter had been closed because another hiker hung their bear bag low, directly above their tent. So a bear trashed the tent to get to the food. The problem for thru-hikers was that, on the holiday weekend, all of the campsites and lodges in the park were booked. The rangers ended up creating a little ghetto for us at Lewis Mountain campground, which meant campstore (beer!) and showers. As an interesting historical aside—Lewis Mountain was the only campground open to blacks during segregation. The next day, we continued on to Big Meadows Lodge and campground, to pick up a maildrop and have some lunch. It was almost laughable how obviously it was the “white” area, even these many decades later.

Thru-hiker zone at Lewis Mountain Campground. We have to be
 roped off from the general population, for everyone's safety.

On the deck at Big Meadows Lodge.

Historic Big Meadows Lodge.