Weekly Overview
Day 78
July 19, 2019
- Route: Tuxedo Park, NY (Mile 1385.7) to Fort Montgomery, NY (Mile 1405.3)
- Daily Mileage: 19.6 miles
I’m sooo glad I decided to treat myself and spend the night indoors at a motel last night. This was a totally unplanned town stop, but it’s what I needed for a mental reset. Yesterday was so incredibly difficult on the wet terrain. All the slipping. My clothes were chafing. My tent was still completely soaked – inside and out – from the tropical cyclone rains. And what better reward myself for tackling 22 miles despite the conditions?
The motel I stayed in last night was a typical small roadside motel. It had dated decor and furniture with lots of beiges and browns straight out from the 1970s. Normally I wouldn’t comment about it, because that’s exactly what I expect for a room that only cost $54 a night? But the guy running the place is 100% worth talking about.
When I arrived at the Tuxedo Motel, I could see he had a copy of AWOL’s Guide open on his desk. So whether he merely caters to the hikers who pass through, is an aspiring AT hiker himself – he clearly knows about the trail.
The second surprise came the moment he offered me a clear trash bag and told me to bring my wet clothes bag down to the lobby after my shower so he could wash them in his machines. For free!!! OMG – this guy is an angel.
I suppose washing hikers’ clothes makes his motel rooms and furniture smell better. But it’s still a treat nonetheless. If an industrial laundry machine designed for cleaning hotel linens doesn’t get the funky smell out of my clothes, nothing will. And that also meant my stuff would actually be DRY when I hit the trail again. Talk about luxury!!!
And with that, I ordered delivery pizza from my room, took a steaming hot shower, and settled in for a dry night indoors while the storm continues around me.
NEXT UP… WEST POINT
Getting a lift back to the trailhead took more than an hour, so I didn’t begin hiking until 8 am this morning. It was still drizzling out and everything was moist along the trail, but I felt like a million bucks. I had dry, clean clothes. I’d dried my tent out inside the motel room last night. And I had a few slices of last night’s pizza packed up in my food bag for lunch. I was in a good mood. The reset was a success.
Today’s mileage goal is to get to Fort Montgomery, NY, on the outskirts West Point – where the U.S. Military Academy (USMA) sits. Two of my Army friends who are still on active duty are currently stationed there as part of the USMA faculty and staff. So my plan is to try to meet up with them when I get into town.
Fort Montgomery is still another 20 miles down the trail though, so I’ll need to keep a steady pace all day long if I want to arrive there at a reasonable hour tonight.
The forecast today is a mixed bag. The rain should completely recede by lunchtime, and that will undoubtedly make the hiking a bit more enjoyable. But, the afternoon temperature is also supposed to climb back up into the upper-90s again, and thanks to the crazy humidity, there’s a heat advisory because the projected heat index will in the 105-110°F range. Yuck!
EASY PEASY, LEMON SQUEEZY
After crossing over Interstate 87, I spent the majority of my day traversing Harriman State Park. At more than 47,000 acres, Harriman is the second largest park in the state. And there are supposedly 40 marked trails inside the park, creating a network of 225 miles of trail.
There were some good climbs in the park, but the trail was mostly mellow hiking with a few notable items on trail this morning. The first noteworthy item on my agenda was the infamous “lemon squeezer.”
The lemon squeezer is a super narrow crevasse between two broken boulders that the AT goes straight through. Most people discover the gap is too tight to walk forward all the way through it. And, depending your height and the size of your pack, it can even be too tight of a gap after you turn sideways to shimmy your way to the opposite end!
I’m 5’9″ tall, so I’m not super tall or wide. But, I still found myself needing to take my pack off and and hoisting it above my head so I could fit through the skinny rock crevasse without scraping up my body or gear.
Once I was freed from the tight vise of the lemon squeezer, I still had one more challenge. This one was in the form of a rock wall that I needed to get up and over. It was a good 6 feet tall and went straight up vertically. There weren’t any good footholds to assist me, and I didn’t have anyone else around to help give me a boost. So I got a little worried I might not make it up.
However, once I tossed my pack up onto the boulder ledge above me, I was mentally committed to hoisting myself up the rock wall instead of searching for a detour around it. Getting up to the top of the slippery rock wasn’t easy. It took multiple attempts and all the upper body strength I could muster. Plus, I ended up scraping one of my elbows and one of my knees in the process of the pulling myself up. But I made it up to the top on my own!!
About 15 minutes after the lemon squeezer, I found myself at the junction with another long trail out in the woods. According to the sign, this was New York’s Long Path, a 357-mile trail that begins at NYC’s George Washington Bridge (~50 miles away) and which ends somewhere near the edge of the Adirondacks in upstate New York.
Wow! As a West Coast girl, I had no clue this trail even existed! As I stopped to take a few photos, I could see turquoise blazes painted on some tree trunks as the trail disappeared into the distance. Heck, if the Long Path is this well-marked the entire way, maybe I should add it to my ever-growing bucket list of trails to hike sometime in the future!
But first, I need to finish this one…
Ten miles into my day, while I was still hiking through the massive preserve that is Harriman State Park when I came upon the William Brien Shelter. This three-sided shelter was constructed by the Civilian Conservation Corps back in 1933, and the exterior is made almost entirely out of stone. As I looked around at my rocky surroundings, I suspected the CCC builders didn’t need to go far to source their materials. This whole area was rife with rocks and stone.
I popped my head inside the shelter to check it out and quickly decided it was not my cup of tea. The shelter would probably do a great job blocking the wind and rain (at least from three directions). But, I can only imagine how cold it would be to sleep in if you hit it in the off season! And since there wasn’t any water nearby, I decided to push onward and have my lunch further down the trail instead of resting here.
A HOT AFTERNOON
As the afternoon set in, I was sweating buckets once again. It was hot, humid and stick, just as the weather report promised. I’d just have to take it easy and focus on attaining small goals to get me through the day.
One of these goals was reached when I hit the 1400-mile milestone. I love how great it feels when you pass such a big number like that. It’s really satisfying. That is just an amazing feat if you stop and think about it. I have walked 1,400 consecutive miles over the pass 2.5 months! Damn!
Next up was my goal of getting to the summit of Bear Mountain without bonking. Unfortunately, water has been really hit or miss in New York this summer. I’ve passed multiple water caches put out by trail angels to try to help supplement the meager water sources. But each one I’ve come upon has been completely dry. It was nothing more than a bunch of empty gallon jugs 🙁
As a result, I’ve had to carefully ration my water and just try distract myself from how thirsty I am. Today’s diversion was an afternoon listening to my most recent audiobook (Becoming by Michelle Obama). And then I just had to put one foot in front of the next to take my mind off my water woes.
BEAR MOUNTAIN
The hike up to the top of Bear Mountain turned out to be quite a bit easier than the elevation profile in Guthook led me to believe. For once, the AT seemed to actually be graded with hikers in mind. Instead of trying to make it as difficult as humanly possible (I’m looking at you Lemon Squeezer), this section of the route was actually quite reasonable.
Heck, there was even a section of trail that had stone steps going up! And then I was on an exposed rock overlook with an elaborate wood bench and panoramic views. Wow. This was really nice. If only I had time to sit for a spell and rest. But, it really was too exposed up here in the blazing sun without much water.
When I pulled out my phone to update my West Point friends that I was still on pace for dinner, I made the mistake of checking the afternoon’s temperature. The heat index was currently at 108°F. Ugh. No wonder I felt like I was melting!
It was just a little further to the summit of Bear Mountain from there, and I knew I’d finally made it to the top thanks to the super cool stone observation tower and the views of the Hudson River.
Plus, there was a fabulous surprise at the summit. The park put in a soda vending machine (that took credit cards!!) and it dispensed bottles of Powerade that were so freaking cold they gave you a headache. It was friggin awesome!
My afternoon route down through Bear Mountain State Park looked nothing like the rugged Appalachian Trail I was used to. It was a beautifully groomed path with stone steps that must have taken the trail maintainers years and years to achieve. Honestly, it was absolutely glorious work!
THE LOWEST POINT
After descending Bear Mountain, it was time for me to head to the lowest point on the entire AT. This infamous spot sits inside the gates of a small zoo on the edge of Bear Mountain Park.
As I looked at my watch, I could see I needed to hurry. It was getting late and I didn’t know if the zoo closed at 4:30 or 5 pm. If didn’t get in this afternoon to see the AT’s low point, I’d have to wait until the zoo re-opened at 10 am the next morning. So although I was tired and hot, I did my best to hurry past the crowds of people enjoying the amenities in Bear Mountain Park – including an awesome looking lake to swim and fish in.
My luck held out, and I was able to squeeze in the zoo’s gates just before the park was getting ready to close up. I quickly made my way around families with strollers and worked my way over to the bear den exhibit. A small diamond-shaped sign announced I’d made it to the lowest spot on the AT. Right here I was a mere 129 feet above sea level.
After exiting the Trailside Zoo, I was now technically in Fort Clinton – the location of an American Revolutionary war erected by the Continental Amry on the West Bank of the Hudson River. The AT continued east across the Hudson, but I would be continuing on until tomorrow. I needed to find my way north toward West Point to meet up with my friends.
I still had an hour before my anyone would be available to pick me up, and it was so damn hot in the sun. So I decided follow Google Maps for the a mile walk to the closest convenience store in Fort Montgomery. I needed another cold drink ASAP.
While at the Chestnut Mart convenience store, I met a older guy in a pickup truck and bummed a ride the rest of the way to West Point. It’s amazing how much my mindset about hitchhiking has changed these past 12 weeks. I used to be apprehensive about getting rides from complete strangers. But with tired feet, I was more than willing to take the kindness offered to me.
Day 79
July 20, 2019
- Route: Fort Montgomery, NY (Mile 1405.3) to Canopus Beach State Park (Mile 1425.8)
- Daily Mileage: 20.5 miles
I returned to the Trailside Zoo around 7:30 this morning feeling refreshed and ready to hike. But first, I needed to cross the Hudson River. The route over the river required walking across Bear Mountain Bridge – a 1/4-mile long toll bridge that takes traffic toward New York City.
Back in 1924, when Bear Mountain Bridge first opened, it was the longest suspension bridge in the world at 2,255 feet long. But, that record only lasted about a year and half. Less than two years later, the Ben Franklin Bridge opened in Philadelphia during the 1926 World’s Fair and 150th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence.
With the Trailside Zoo being the absolute lowest point on the AT, I knew my future was probably going to involve some sort of climb — and I wasn’t disappointed. I was barely back into the woods when the AT promptly began climbing a giant hill.
It was already warm and humid, despite it only being at 8 am. And I felt sweaty and sticky almost immediately. Nonetheless, I made good time up the trail, and after two hours I was rolling up to the Appalachian Trail Market – a small convenience store and deli right near a road crossing that was calling my name.
Man, there are just so many options for easy food resupplies on this stretch of the AT. I honestly could probably get by with carrying just 1-2 days of food in my pack thanks to these super frequent New York deli stops!
THANKS GEORGE!
A few hours later I passed another noteworthy historical marker. At first it appeared to just be a rock with a large plaque in it. But, in reality it commemorates one the our country’s first public health success stories.
Back in 1775-1776, the spread of small pox threatened to ravage the Continental Army right in the middle of the Revolutionary War. George Washington was one of the few Americans who had been exposed to small pox earlier in his life (he’d been infected at the age of 17 while traveling to Barbados), so he was immune from the disease. But many of his soldiers, who’d joined the Army from isolated farms and plantations were now vulnerable.
Knowing how devastating the disease could be, and how it might derail his military operation, Washington ordered all his troops be inoculated. The rock I was now passing on the AT was part of the foundation of the barn where that small pox inoculation station once stood.
And so, I guess I have George Washington’s legacy to thank all those needles and shots that I had to endure when I joined the Army!
ANOTHER HOT ONE
As I continued hiking in New York, the day was warming up to be yet another scorcher. I decided the best course of action was just to take a quick 20 minute break for lunch so I could try to make it to Canopus Lake before I bonked.
On the north side of the lake, there was supposed to be a beach with a snack bar operated by the state park. If I could get there by late afternoon, not only would I have access to easy potable water in the park, but perhaps I’d even the opportunity to get something cold and refreshing to drink from the snack bar before it closed.
I was about 3.5 miles away from the lake when I realized I was down to my last few sips of water. This was not good. It was just soooo hot out here. Once again, the heat index had pushed the temperature up to 111°F. These were just an insane hiking conditions.
I’d topped off my water bottles back at the Appalachian Trail Market during my mid-morning stop, but I hadn’t had any luck finding any water since then. All the streams that were supposed to be flowing near the trail seemed to be bone dry. And as hot and humid as the day was, I hadn’t been doing a very good job of rationing my water supply.
I was so exhausted from the heat as I made those final miles to Canopus Lake that I was having to stop every half hour to rest. I’d walk 20 minutes, then rest 5-10 minutes with my pack off oto try to cool down. Then walk another 20 minutes, and rest again. Unfortunately, this rhythm made those final 3.5 miles seem to stretch out like an eternity.
CANOPUS LAKE BEACH
Just before 4 pm, I finally reached the junction for the side trail to Canopus Lake. As I walked around the lake toward the beach area, there must have been hundreds of people enjoying the warm day. I was so parched though, I barely even noticed them. All I cared about was getting to the air-conditioned snack shop to get myself a something to cool drink ASAP.
Once inside, I was so elated to see they had cold Gatorade in stock. But before I could purchase a bottle, disaster struck.
The 15 year old girl running the cash register told me I couldn’t buy anything! Apparently they’d had a power surge about an hour earlier and now their credit card machine was down! So she was going to close up early.
Are you kidding me? I was so dang hot and thirsty. This was happening now?!? On the hottest day of the year? While I’m ready to literally fall over from dehydration?
Luckily, had enough cash on hand to cover the meager cost of the bottle Gatorade in my hand and even a snow-cone from their ice cream freezer. I was not going to be foiled by failed credit card technology!!
I guzzled the entire bottle of Gatorade before even leaving the snack bar, and then I went in search of some shade on the side of the building where I could sit down and recover.
As I was sitting outside enjoying my snow cone with my pack beside me, a state park employee came over to find out if I was ok. Apparently I my face now looked bright red and he was worried that I’d gotten too much sun.
The guy’s introduced himself as Declan, and he was the park’s medic. He’d spent the better part of his day trying to keep the beach patrons alive and safe, and now he was worried I might be ready to pass out from heat during his watch.
I appreciated his concern, but it really wasn’t warranted. I just needed to sit and rehydrate a bit in the shade. I wasn’t experiencing the tell-tale signs of heat exhaustion. No dizziness, no racing heartbeat, no tingly lips, no nausea. This was nothing like that day back in Virginia when I’d crossed the James River and felt those scary warning signs. Nor was it like the first day I went into the Smokies, when I’m almost sure I was experiencing heat cramps and ready to fall over.
Declan wouldn’t give up though. In the end, he convinced me to at least come sit inside the aid station he had nearby. If nothing else, it was air-conditioned and cool. I could rest there until I was ready to head over to the backpacker’s camp set up by the park about 1/2 mile away.
DAFFODIL
After 30 minutes of sitting in the air conditioning and drinking water, I was feeling perfectly fine again. Declan was off fulfilling his duties out on the beach and looking for more potential heat casualties. So I left him a quick thank you note before setting off to the backpacker’s camp.
When I got to the grassy field set aside for AT hikers to camp in, I could see there were already 7-8 tents set up. Plus, over near a picnic table, I could see some hikers I knew! Toaster and a guy in his 40s were hanging out and eating, so I wandered over to join them and see what was happening.
Toaster introduced the other guy to me as Daffodil. When Daffodil opened him mouth to say greet me, it was obvious he wasn’t from the U.S. He had a very UK-sounding accent.
As it turns out, Daffodil was a Welshman who got his trail name back at one of the AT hostels in Georgia. One of the girls at the hostel had been to the UK and was trying extremely hard to convince him to adopt a trail name that payed tribute his country of origin. But Wales doesn’t have any cool national symbols. The primarily ones are leeks and daffodils. Not exactly a list of things you’d commonly associate with hiking.
Following the discussion, Daffodil went into town to resupply. And when the same hiker showed up at the Dollar General she hollared over, “Hey Daffodil.” To which, he merely looked down at his loaner clothes (a pair of hospital scrubs) and repiled, “That’s Doctor Daffodil, to you.” So, perhaps because he was such a good sport about the whole thing, the name Daffodil stuck.
WHERE’S MOSS??
I enjoyed catching up with Toaster and learning more about Daffodil, but I was pretty surprised I didn’t see Moss hanging out with them at the picnic table. Every time I’ve seen Toaster over the past 300 miles, Moss was always close by. But now Moss was nowhere to be seen. Had they parted ways?
I asked about Moss’s whereabouts and Toaster pointed to a small 1-person tent on the edge of the field. Apparently Moss had been feeling sick the the better part of the day and was currently lying down and resting inside their* tent.
(*Note: Moss’s preferred pronouns are “they/them.”).
I went over to say hello and quickly noticed Moss did NOT look good. Not even a little bit. For all of Declan’s unnecessary worry about my welfare earlier, I now knew what it felt like to be in his shoes. It was very obvious to me that Moss needed some medical attention. If one of my Soldiers looked like this in the field, I’d be calling a medic to get an IV started ASAP!
So, I convinced Moss to get up and return with me to the aid station. Just as we were approaching, I saw Declan and hurriedly waved him over. I explained that Moss hadn’t been feeling well for several hours and I was really worried about the toll today’s insane heat and humidity had taken.
Declan immediately took over and escorted Moss inside, and I felt a wave of relief as I watched them depart. I knew I’d done the right thing getting Moss to the aid station before things took a turn for the worse. If Moss had been feeling fine, I’m sure they would have put up at least a little bit of a fight on my suggestion of going to the aid station.
I’ve only known Moss since Boiling Springs, Pennsylvania. But it’s far better to be overly cautious and summon help, than risk a bad outcome.
Day 80
July 21, 2019
- Route: Canopus Beach State Park (Mile 1425.8) to Stealth Site (Mile 1449.2)
- Daily Mileage: 23.4 miles
A bit of rain came through the state park between 10pm and 3 am, but it did absolutely nothing to cool things down overnight. It was hot and sticky inside my tent, and I just slept in fits and starts. When the sun finally rose at 5:30 am, I packed up quickly and hit the road. I wanted to be hiking down the trail early to try to beat what was sure to be another sweltering New York day.
I only had 5 miles of hiking before I got to the Ralph’s Peak Hikers’ Cabin. And normally, I would have only stopped there for a few minutes to top off my water before heading back out again to make some more miles. But when I rolled up to the shelter this morning, there was large crew of people assembled outside at some picnic tables, and they were cooking up a storm.
I soon learned these folks were a local trail crew out doing some trail maintenance on the New York section of the AT. They’d brought a huge spread for breakfast, and they were cooking up eggs and pancakes for the thru-hikers too!
You didn’t have to twist my arm to get me to stop and have a hot breakfast. No siree. My hiker hunger wouldn’t allow me pass this breakfast spread up for anything.
Before the freshly made pancakes were even on my plate, Daffodil and Toaster also rolled up to the shelter. I asked after Moss, and that’s when Toaster informed me Moss spent the entire night in the park’s aid station getting treatment.
What?!?
I’d walked by their grouping of tents on my way out of camp this morning, and Moss’s tent flaps were still closed tight. So I just assumed Moss was still sleeping. When Toaster got up, he attempted to rouse Moss and discovered their tent was still empty. So he checked back at the aid station and discovered Moss was still resting in the bed there.
Moss was still feeling pretty wiped this morning, and decided to get off trail for a few days to recover while staying with a good friend in New York. So that was the current state of affairs for now. I sure hope I see Moss again!! I don’t think they are done with the AT yet.
WHERE IS EVERYONE?
After breakfast, I was all on my own again. Toaster and Daffodil were hiking fast and I wasn’t in the mood to try to keep up with them on a full belly. My agenda for the day was to just take it slow and easy. I didn’t want to end up in the same boat at Moss.
Luna texted me during breakfast to say he and Gazelle made it to the Appalachian Trail Market yesterday afternoon and pretty much set up shop there. It was just so hot yesterday that Luna wanted to pack it in for the day. So he spent all afternoon eating sandwiches at the deli and buying Italian ices to cool down.
I can’t say I’m surprised. Yesterday was a truly miserable day to hike. But their lengthy rest stop now that means they’re nearly a full day behind me on the trail. Sigh.
Trail Magic and Gear Boy are a full day behind Luna and Gazelle, thanks to stops to see their respective moms in Pennsylvania and New York.
I know I could slow my pace and just let them all four of them catch up, but I’m still trying to still hold onto the vow I made to myself during my double zero back around the 4th of July. I need to hike my own hike. That means that some days I’m just not going to be with my trail family. There will be times when I’m ahead. And times when I’m behind. But that’s ok. I need to just let this experience be what it will be.
NYC
Unfortunately, the day was pretty uneventful, and I didn’t take many photos to document this stretch of my journey. I just kept my head down and hiked.
I’m now crossing into a new bubble of hikers who started way ahead of me. Most of them began their thru-hikes back in early April and March, but some of them started even earlier than that!
It’s weird feeling to instantly catch all the people who were once several days (or even a weeks) ahead of me in the shelter journals. But, I definitely enjoy putting faces with some of the name and the notes they’d write. It’s almost like I know some of them already, but they don’t have any clue who I am.
Based on my current mileage and pace, I probably would have probably caught most of them eventually. But the one circumstance that catapulted me into their world right now is the fact that so people decided to get off trail so they could go into New York City for few days.
The opportunity to go into the city wasn’t a big draw for me to get of trail. I’ve been to NYC many, many times during my life. That’s one of the benefits of having in-laws who live in New Jersey. But, I can certainly see how thru-hikers from other parts of the country (especially those who’d never been to NYC) might want to take some time off and see the sights.
In fact, I’m kind of surprised that Daffodil didn’t want to stop in and see NYC.
BOX & HYGINA
I got to know a few of these new hikers at lunch when I decided take another short detour to [another] deli. With a freshly made sandwich in hand, I walked over to a shaded area outside the deli where two hikers were already sitting in the grass.
I’d seen the female hiker before at a random crossing when she asked me if I’d seen “box.”
I had no idea what in the world she was saying. Had I seen a box?? What the…? She had to repeat herself twice before I realized Box was the name of her hiking partner.
The notorious Box was there beside her on the grass now, and I figured it was time to get to know them both. She introduced herself as Hy-gina, which again I had to get her to repeat multiple times (I’m pretty sure she must think I need a hearing aid by now). I didn’t quite get the entire story on how she earned her trail name, but apparently it was a play on words because her real name is Gina – so Hi Gina!
The two of them hiked the PCT last year (2018). And now they were on their second long trail in as many years. It’s probably no surprise they had their sights on completing the Triple Crown by 2020 and were planning to hike the CDT next year.
Man, that’s ambitious. I definitely know I couldn’t hike three long trails in three back-to-back years. Just staying focused on getting through this one trail is hard enough for me right now.
I also discovered that Hy-Gina and I had another interesting thing in common. We are both female combat veterans. It’s not all that uncommon to meet other veterans out here on the trail. But it’s definitely not everyday that you meet another woman who served. In fact, the last one I crossed paths with was Charlotte and her service dog Jack, way back near Blood Mountain on Day 3 of my hike!
MORE WATER WOES
After lunch, Box and Hy-gina ended up hitting the trail pretty hard. And just like this morning, I was lagging behind with a full belly weighing me down. I let them go ahead and decided I didn’t want to push. It was too insanely hot again.
My spirits were buoyed and my energy re-emerged, when I crossed paths with the most spectacular looking tree in the middle of the trail. If that wasn’t a reason to be out here hiking today, I don’t know what was!
When I got to the Morgan Stewart shelter mid afternoon I discovered there wasn’t a stream or creek near the shelter. Instead, someone had decided to dig a well and install a hand pump to dispense the water.
The pump seemed like a thoughtful solution, but it turned out to be less than ideal. It was super difficult to extract the water from the worn pump (not to mention incredibly loud noise it made in the quiet forest). Plus, the water tasted horribly metallic. What a waste of effort.
But, I needed to get water here because all the upcoming water sources between here and the next shelter (another 8.4 miles ahead) were outlets for Nuclear Lake. And I didn’t want to risk getting my water there.
Nuclear Lake’s unusual name comes from the plutonium research facility that once sat on the shores of the lake. However, the facility was shut down back in 1972 after a chemical explosion.
According to Guthook, the land around the lake was tested and deemed safe before the AT was routed through the area, but I don’t know that I trust the water in the lake to be safe. The name was just a bit ominous sounding to me.
THE WORST SHELTER
My plan to just take it nice and easy this afternoon worked out fine, and I got to Telephone Pioneer Shelter around 6:15 pm. Perfect timing. There was only one problem. The shelter was a dud. And I was the only hiker there – which probably tells you other people felt the same exact way.
The Telephone Pioneers shelter was 100% false advertising too. There was no telephone there. And no pioneers either! But in all seriousness, the real reason the shelter was a bad choice was because there was no water.
You could see that a big stream used to pour down the hillside in front of the shelter. But it had dried up during the hot summer. Now it was just a bunch of small shallow pools of scummy water with frogs sitting in them and a about a million mosquitos. No thank you! I’ll keep going.
ALL ALONE
I still had plenty of time before the sun went down to find somewhere more suitable to camp. But first I needed to find Dom dang water! Almost all of my metallic water from the hand pump was gone by now. And I’d definitely need some water to make dinner. I couldn’t survive on the remaining 1/4-cup of water I was carrying. Luckily, the trail was all downhill ahead and there was supposed to be a stream before the next road crossing.
The stream I’d been counting on was dry too, and by the time I got to trailhead at West Dover Road, I was completely out of water and wondering what the heck I was going to do. This was not a good situation to be in. This was the second time in as many days that I’ve run completely out of water!
Luckily, I saw a note in Guthook that one of the locals that lived near the road crossing often helps AT thru-hikers out. And this year, he was letting hikers use the water spigot on the back of his house to fill up. Thank goodness for the generosity of strangers!
After crossing West Dover Road, I came upon another noteworthy site – the largest oak tree on the AT. The Dover Oak is 300 years old and has a diameter of approximately six feet. I wanted to be impressed by this tree, but I’m sorry, that oak I spotted after lunch was 100% more impressive and beautiful than this one.
All the Dover Oak had going for it was age. It was right beside a semi-busy paved road instead of in the middle of a picturesque forest setting. Plus, the way it had been trimmed over the years was really jarring. The limbs seemed to have a bunch of nubs and scars instead of a giant umbrella of twisty branches that would have made it a beautiful tree.
I took a photo of the Dover Oak nonetheless, then pushed on another mile or so up the trail and finally found a flat spot where I could stealth camp. I think this could be my very first campsite where I’ll be completely alone on the AT.
I’m not holding my breath though. I’d tried to stealth camp several times before during this thru-hike, but I always seemed to get joined at the last minute by another hiker. So we’ll see how it pans out.
Day 81
July 22, 2019
- Route: Stealth Site (Mile 1449.2) to Mt. Algo Shelter (Mile 1468.8)
- Daily Mileage: 19.6 miles
My stealth campsite must have been really stealthy after all. No one rolled through after me, so I was 100% alone all night. How weird is it that it took 1450 miles for me to actually camp alone for one night?
It not as if tenting by myself was ever a particular goal of mine on this trail though. If it was, I’m sure I could have made it happen sooner. I’ve really enjoyed the company of other hikers out here on the AT. Plus, I’m pretty sure I’d feel like I was be missing out on the social aspect of this journey if I’d chosen keep to myself all the time.
I was up early again this morning. I’m not sure if it was because of when the sun came up of if it was just the excitement of knocking out the final 8.5 miles of hot, humid New York today!
I barely made it 10 minutes up the trail, however, before I passed two tents pitched in the tall grass on the edge of pasture. The occupants weren’t moving around yet, but I recognized those tents immediately. Toaster and Daffodil were stealth camping less than a mile ahead of me! Holy crap! So I guess I wasn’t completely alone out here after all.
Just beyond their stealth site, I found myself back on some wooden boardwalks as I headed around the edge of the Swamp River. It was very reminiscent of New Jersey. As I hiked, I kept my eyes open for some beavers, since I’d read there might be some living in this area. But I didn’t see a single one. I guess 6 am must have of been too early for them to get to work.
Beyond the river area, was back on high ground and soon crossed a set of railroad tracks. The sign along the tracks made me chuckle to myself. I doubt many NYC commuters get off at this particular stop at the end of their workday!
ACHES & PAINS
The morning passed without much fanfare. My right knee was hurting for much of the morning as I hiked up and down a series of rolling hills. It’s still a sore from where I knocked it against the rock wall I had to climb just after the Lemon Squeezer.
I’ve been lucky not to have too many injuries on this trail, but I tend to worry at times. I’m in my mid-40s. And while I’m constantly amazed at how strong my body has been thus far, there are still lots of aches and pains that come with being middle-aged.
Any one of these days, I expect to wake up and discover one of my body parts had finally met its threshold from overuse. So, I tend to pay close attention to these little complaints so I can try to assess if it’s getting worse.
As I crossed through a field and took inventory of my old creaking body, I was pleasantly surprised by some of the interesting sights or rural New York. I passed by a barn filled with giant rolled hay bales. And then there the elevated granary made of wood, and it reminded me of the hórreos dotting the landscape in Spain during my hike on the Camino de Santiago last fall.
But the best surprise of all came in the form of a great big ice chest in the field filled with jugs of water. Someone left this water cache behind. Yet all they asked in return was that the hikers take a moment to sign their notebook on our the way through. I’m just astounded by the immense kindness of strangers along the AT. Every day it renews my faith in humanity.
New York might have tried to mentally break me with its insanely slippery rock slabs and the horrendous heat, but there was a lot to love here too. Blueberries. Frequent deli stops at the road crossings. Cold soda and Italian ices. Trail magic for breakfast. And jugs of water put out by perfect strangers!
STATE #10
Thanks to my early start this morning, I crossed into my 10th state on the AT right before 9 am this morning. Woohoo! Connecticut! A short, but sweet, state that I hoped to make quick time of. The AT works its way up the western side of the state, so there’s only 50.3 miles to traverse. I should be in and out of the Nutmeg State in just a few short days.
I’d had pretty reliable cell service through much of New Jersey and New York, and Connecticut was no different. Although I keep my phone in airplane mode most of the time to conserve battery between town stops, I still turn it on here and there to check the weather and texts from my trail family. And it’s nice to turn it on and discover actually has signal (like it consistently has over the past two weeks).
Luna texted me overnight to ask how far I was ahead of them. He and Gazelle were going to try to get to Connecticut today, and planed to try to chase me down now that the weather was supposed to cool back down. A big rain storm was heading our way and it was going to break the record-breaking heat wave we’ve been experiencing the past week. So, they anticipated hiking 25ish-mile days until they caught me.
I welcomed the news. I haven’t really hiked with Luna since Harper’s Ferry. He’d gotten off trail to spend a day with his brother in DC, then jumped back on trail at some random location so he could hike with Freefall during the week he was on the East Coast.
But now if sounded like they might catch me before I got out of Connecticut. Yes! I can’t wait!
BULL BRIDGE
Not far into Connecticut, the AT climbed up and over a big hill called Ten Mile Hill. There was with an AT shelter on the downside of the hill, and I debated having lunch there. But, the weather report said there’s supposed to be a ton of rain next few days, and it should begin this afternoon. So I decided to push on. I figured I could make it to Bull’s Bridge and quickly grab something to eat at the deli in town.
The town was named after the Bull Bridge, a 19th century covered bridge that crosses the Housatonic River. As I walked over the picturesque covered bridge, it reminded me I’m now officially in New England.
It’s a common mistake for people like me (who grew up on the West Coast) to lump the entire northeastern region of the U.S. together as “New England.” But, as the people who live here will quickly tell you, New England only consists of six states: Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and Connecticut.
New York is NOT part of New England! It doesn’t matter how many bed & breakfasts they have. Or whether the Adirondacks have equally beautiful fall colors. New England is it’s own culture and New York ain’t part of it.
HERE COMES THE RAIN
My stop of the Bull Bridge Market was a quick one. The skies were getting dark and you could see the rain was heading my way. There was already group of four hikers sitting at one of the picnic tables outside the market, and they were trying to make frantic phone calls to find a spot indoors for the night.
They’d originally planned to stop for the evening at a nearby hostel, but the proprietor was on vacation this week! So now they were now scrambling for “Plan B” and hoping to find a reasonably priced motel with vacancy.
The only problem with their plan was they were in now in Connecticut. There aren’t many motels outside the big cities of Danbury or Hartford. And all the local establishments around here were spendy vacation-type B&Bs for people with New York City kind of money! It wasn’t exactly a budget-friendly place.
I wished them luck when I took off. I was going to stay on the trail and hopefully find a spot at one of the AT shelters tonight. And if not, well, I’d already spent the night in my tent during a tropical cyclone at the Wawayanda Shelter. It probably wouldn’t be any worse than that, right?
When I arrived at the Mt. Algo shelter this afternoon, I was pleasantly surprised that to find it completely empty. I’m sure the fact that it was only just a bit past 3 pm was one of the big reasons for that. But, I was going to stop here and make camp here for the night.
I’d already hiked just about 20 miles (plus a little detour off-trail to the market). The next shelter was only 7.3 more miles up the trail, and I could definitely make that distance before dark. But, I decided to stay it was a better idea to just stay put.
First off, I didn’t want to hike a 27.3-mile day. I wanted to let my trail family catch up with me. So, I needed to keep my mileage down to 20 miles or less to let that happen.
Second, the rain was just beginning about a half mile before I got to the shelter, and wasn’t suppose to stop until mid-day tomorrow. So, if I called it quits now, I could stay mostly dry and curl up and write in my journal. Who cares if it’s only 3 pm. I still hiked 19.6 miles. That was full day’s work regardless of the the current time of day.
Finally, I didn’t want to keep hiking on because the town of Kent is just up the road. I was planning to head into town tomorrow and grab a shower (they had a coin-op outdoor shower for hikers). Plus, I really needed to wash my stinky clothes and grab a small food resupply at the grocery story. I can’t simply count on passing a deli or market each day.
So, all told, continuing beyond this shelter just made no sense to me. I was done for the day.
Day 82
July 23, 2019
- Route: Mt. Algo Shelter (Mile 1468.8) to Pine Swamp Brook (Mile 1486.1)
- Daily Mileage: 17.3 miles
Last night’s stay at the Mt. Algo Shelter was not a pleasant one. It didn’t take long before I was joined by some other hikers inside the shelter, so I grabbed a spot over on the left side of the platform.
Unfortunately, that was the side of the shelter that had a leak in the roof! It was dripping right onto the back corner of the platform where I had my air mattress set up for the night. And as the rain got heavier and heavier, the leak only got bigger. There wasn’t enough room to simply avoid it. Not with all of us crammed inside the shelter.
Around 5pm, I attempted to remedy the situation by putting my cold soaking container at the foot of my mattress in an effort to catch the dripping water. This solution seemed to work fine, but the small pint-sized jar filled up much quicker than expected.
If I didn’t dump the water outside the shelter every 40-60 minutes (depending on the heaviness of the rain), the jar would overflow right onto my mattress and poncho liner. So that meant I slept in fits and spurts all night, and never got more than 45 minutes of continuous sleep.
COFFEE
Toaster and Daffodil made it to the Mt. Algo shelter last night too, but they decided to set up their tents off to one side of the shelter instead of cramming in.
The around 6 am this morning, Daffodil scampered over to the shelter looking for somewhere dry to make his breakfast. As he pulled out his stove to make coffee, I looked on with sheer envy. Oh how I miss my hot morning cup of coffee.
He offered to make me some to, but I had to decline. My Talenti jar was still busy actively serving as a rain bucket at the end of the shelter. And I’d made the mistake of packing my collapsible cup inside the box with my stove stuff when I mailed it up the trail. So now my cup was sitting in a Post Office in Cheshire, Massachusetts instead of with me on trail.
When I explained my situation, Daffodil exclaimed that he’d never send his stove off. He loved his daily coffee way too much to part with it – even temporarily. He had at least one cup of coffee every morning with his breakfast, and tried to stop in the afternoons to make a cup or two then too. Wow! He definitely loves his coffee.
KENT
Neither Toaster nor Daffodil needed to go into Kent to resupply today, so I parted ways with them at the shelter. It wasn’t far from the trailhead to town, and I was really hoping I’d get a hitch in. Unfortunately, there was very little traffic out on the road this morning, and so, I ended walking the entire 1.5 miles into town in the drizzling rain.
The town of Kent didn’t look like most of the AT towns I’d come through in the past. There was definitely a theme going on here. It wasn’t as overt as the Bavarian-theme of Helen, Georgia. Instead Kent was going for the hoity-toity “we’re a quaint New England town” feeling. That same buttoned up, staid affectation that Pottery Barn and Yankee Candle are tying to cultivate.
It probably shouldn’t be a big surprise to me that Kent gave me that vibe though. On my way into town, I had to walk past the grounds of a ivy covered boarding school with tuition and fees that cost more than $80,000 (and there are three boarding schools in this tiny town). Plus there was a fancy chocolatier, a tavern, and something called the Fife ’n Drum Gift Shop.
Yet, despite a the undeniable pretension, the town seemed to generally welcome AT hikers. They’d built a an outdoor coin-operated shower next to the town’s visitor center. They had a public bathrooms available, a laundromat where I could charge my phone while doing my laundry, and an IGA grocery store with a nice selection of food.
So, they had pretty much everything a hiker would need – except maybe a hostel. I got the feel a hostel would have been a big no-no here. They didn’t mind AT hikers coming into town and spending money – especially if those hikers were Bill Bryson (aka award-winning New England authors who *just happened* to be hiking on the AT to write a memoir like A Walk in the Woods).
But, they clearly want the typical hikertrash culture coming in and crashing in their tents for a long weekend.
A LITTLE BIT OF FLAT
Right before leaving Kent, I met my very first SOBO hiker of the season while the two of us were hanging out on a bench under the eaves of the Kent Visitor Center waiting for the rain to stop.
That’s just surreal to me. I suppose I’ll meet more and more SOBOs soon. But this meeting just cements the fact that I’m really going to make it to the end of this trail. I’ve made it almost 1,500 friggin miles!! I just need to keep my head down and put one foot in front of the next.
I took off from Kent around 1 pm and – sadly – had to walk out of town all the way back to the trailhead. Once again, I was unsuccessful at getting a hitch. It’s frustrating to know I’ve walked 3 miles today, but I’m not a single step further up the trail.
When I returned to the AT, I was initially met with a series of steep ascents and some horrible descents on wet rocks. But then I was rewarded with a totally wonderful, flat 5-mile section along the Housatonic River! Oh man, how lovely it was! The AT is rarely flat like this. So to have five full miles of easy hiking felt like a dream.
I hoped the remainder of the state might be like this, but no such luck. The steep hills, rocks, and roots returned. During one of my climbs, I saw a group of 8-10 hikers ahead of me. They all appeared to be in their 20s and were wearing identical t-shirts, camouflage pants, and combat boots.
As we got up to the top of one of the climbs, the group pulled off to the side of the trail to take a break. It turns out they were medics in one of the local Army Reserve units headquartered in Connecticut. and were hiking the entire section of the AT that ran through their home state as a team-building exercise. What a great idea! I quickly wished them good luck and continued on tackling the ups and downs.
I crossed paths with a handful more of the early SOBO hikers this afternoon on my way to the Pine Swamp Shelter, but it was mostly an uneventful day. The trail was still pretty mucky from the storm that rolled through over night and it was lightly raining on and off all day.
I didn’t get to the shelter until 8pm, thanks to spending my entire morning in Kent doing town chores. But I was still pretty pleased with the fact that I was still able to knock out 17 miles after lunch.
I suspect much of the credit goes to those 5 flat miles next to the Housatonic River. But at least Luna and Gazelle shouldn’t have trouble closing the gap. I’m not planning to hike a single day beyond 20 miles until they finally catch me.
Day 83
July 23, 2019
- Route: Pine Swamp Brook (Mile 1486.1) to Brassie Brook (Mile 1506)
- Daily Mileage: 19.9 miles
It was actually a bit chilly this morning. The heat wave had finally broken and I was actually a bit cold underneath my poncho liner when I woke in my tent. I guess it’s a good thing my new down quilt is finally on its way.
I ordered a 30-degree quilt from Enlightened Equipment right after I ditched my heavy sleeping back in southern Virginia. Back then, Midnight and Trashcan (the two traveling nurses I was hiking around) convinced me a quilt was the way to go. It would be both lighter and smaller than my heavy sleeping bag, yet just as warm.
It feels like a lifetime since I ordered it back in Virginia. I decided to custom-order the exact color combination I wanted (yellow/gray) but this special request meant it was going to take a solid 6 weeks for the small cottage company to make my order.
Luckily, I really haven’t needed a quilt up to this point. My poncho liner has been just fine for the past few states. Still, there have been a handful of mornings (like this one) when I’ve realized that White Mountains and cold weather are now in my imminent future.
I should have it in just a few more day though because I had it sent General Delivery to Cheshire, Massachusetts. That’s the same post office where I mailed my other gear. So I’m pretty sure it will feel like Christmas when I arrive in Cheshire. I’ll have my stove again. And a brand new cozy quilt. And my collapsible cup for morning coffee. Woohoo!
MOUNTAINSIDE CAFE
I was feeling lazy this morning and lingered in my tent longer than normal. As as result, I didn’t start hiking until around 7:30 am. Once I got on the trail I hoped to get into a nice groove, but I just felt sluggish and unmotivated all morning long. I hate days like this.
I think part of my malaise is the fact that I’m feeling a bit lonely. My trail family is still half a day behind me. Yet there’s no good solution to reunite us quickly. I’d need to take a zero for them to catch up, but I don’t have any real interest in just hanging out middle of Connecticut all day.
So, I’ll just keep my mileage on the lower side, and I know they’ll whittle down my lead a bit more each day until they eventually catch me.
One of the upsides of hiking shorter days is the opportunity to stop and enjoy some side trips. And the one stop I was looking forward to this morning was the Mountainside Cafe. Seven miles up the trail, near the town of Fall’s Village, there’s a farm-to-table cafe right beside the trail. Not only is it open for breakfast and lunch, but they also welcome hikers!
When I arrived there mid-morning, I found half a dozen hikers already sitting at a tables. Initially I planned to look for a spot by myself (just so I didn’t offend any of the patrons with my hiker funk), but then I spotted an empty seat across from a lone hiker, so asked if I could join him. He agreed to share his small table, and we spent the next 90 minutes chatting and getting to know each other.
The company was certainly nice, but the food was the main attraction. I ate until my stomach was bursting and I probably drank an entire pot of coffee during my leisurely stay. The whole experience was divine! And I really liked the vibe of the place with it’s bright, airy farmhouse decor.
In addition, it was nice to learn that part of the restaurant’s mission was to provide “a supportive space for individuals in recovery to practice critical life skills as they embrace a sober lifestyle.” I love supporting businesses that are willing to really invest in their community and take a chance on those who need a helping hand.
ANOTHER MILESTONE
After my satisfying brunch, the trail continued along the scenic Housatonic River up to an old dam with some pretty spectacular falls. Despite my lethargic start to the day, the food was putting quite a bit of pep in my step. Unfortunately, the pot of coffee I drank was also doing its job too — and I think I had to stop three times to find the bushes in my first hour back on trail!
Luckily, the next few miles were flat and easy, and my belly had time to digest my meal before I had to return to anything too challenging. The trail mostly followed the river and then out onto some local paved roads before returning to the woods near the Great Falls.
I could hear the falls from the trail, but couldn’t get a good view until I took a short side trail. I’m glad I made the detour though because they were pretty impressive and scenic.
After the falls, the trail diverged from the river and took me up to the summit of Mt. Prospect, and then it was more pointless ups and downs filling the warm afternoon. I don’t know why, but I didn’t expect Connecticut to be quite this hilly. My impression of the state on prior visits was that it was completely flat. But, then again, I’d never really visited the western side of the state…
I eventually made it to mile 1,500 around 2:30 pm this afternoon and stopped to briefly celebrate with something sweet from my food bag. It was a little bit melancholic because there was no one else around to share the moment with. A big milestone like this deserves an audience!
Seriously – 1,500 miles!! That’s almost three times as long as my longest hike ever. It’s simply amazing to think I walked all the way here from Georgia!
ANOTHER HIGH POINT
After my short stop, it was time to decide how much further I wanted to hike today. Eventually I settled on the Brassie Brook Shelter because I had the hopes of making an extra stop off trail either this evening or tomorrow morning.
About a mile north of that shelter, the trail heads over Bear Mountain – the tallest mountain in the state. But, as an avid highpointer, I knew Bear Mountain wasn’t actually the highest point in the Connecticut. That honor is reserved for a spot just a few miles to the west of the trail.
Bear Mountain is the highest summit in Connecticut at 2,312 feet and the AT goes right over its apex. But there’s another mountain — Mt. Frissell — that straddles the boundary between Connecticut and Massachusetts to the west. Mt. Frissell’s summit is squarely in Massachusetts, but its southwestern slope climbs up to 2,380 feet before it leaves the state. So technically, that slope Mt. Frissell is Connencticut’s state high point by 68 additional feet.
If I wanted to check the state’s high point off my bucket list, I’d need to take a detour of the AT to grab it. Otherwise I’d have to come all the way back here to western Connecticut at a later date. And that just seemed silly given that I was already so close to it now.
Brassie Brook shelter seemed like the perfect staging point for my high point bid. I could set my tent up and leave the majority of my gear behind instead of unnecessarily carrying it several extra miles. And then I could either head out to Mt. Frissell tonight (if I had enough time) or first thing tomorrow before I started hiking for the day.
MT FRISSELL
I rolled up to the Brassie Brook Shelter just after 6 pm and found there were three groups of hikers already set up there. Yet in a bizarre twist, none of them were intermingling with each other. It felt very unusual and different that my prior experience on trail.
A group of section hikers had staked out spots inside the shelter. Meanwhile the group of NOBO hikers had cordoned themselves off in a circle of tents by some trees, and a separate group of SOBO hikers was camping separately in another clearing. How weird! Everyone seemed to want to sleep with their own “tribe” instead of mixing like normal hikers around the shelter or picnic table.
Not wanting to disrupt the balance of the situation, I pitched my tent off in an area completely separate from the three groups. Then I threw my food bag in the nearby bear box, and put my mostly empty pack on as I set off to try to bag the SW slope of Mt. Frissell before dark.
I was moving fast without all my gear on my back, but wasn’t 100% sure I’d be able to get there before dark. I’d done a map recon of my proposed route a few days ago, and there appeared to be a connector trail from the AT over to a forest service road where the Mt. Frissell trailhead sat.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t really ascertain from Guthook how far long the connector trail was in terms of miles. Nor could I tell how far it was between Mt. Frisell’s trailhead and my intended destination near the summit. It look like it was only about 4 miles roundtrip. And if that was accurate, I should be able to make it tonight – if I pushed hard.
The route through the forest to the trailhead wasn’t too bad, and before long I was at the well-marked Mt. Frissell Trail and following the red blazes toward the summit. That’s when things became more difficult. I was soon rock scrambling and I had to try to balance getting to the summit quickly against moving safely on the rugged, craggy route.
As I climbed higher, the day’s mileage was starting to hit me. Soon I was wondering why the heck I’d thought it was a good idea to start this little detour after I already had 20 miles of fatigue on my legs. I probably should have waited until the morning when I wouldn’t have to race the sun and push so hard.
I made it up to the summit of Mt. Frissell about 80 minutes after I departed the shelter. But, I still needed to find the SW slope. That meant I needed to find the trail heading down a different side the mountain. With a little luck, I eventually found it and discovered the survey monument marking Connecticut’s high point right beside a giant rock cairn.
After taking a few quick pictures and signing my name in the log inside the ammo can, I knew it was time to beat feet and get back to camp. It might look like the sky was still fairly bright in my pictures, but – trust me – the sun wasn’t far from the horizon.
I had to take the descent back to the trailhead pretty slow. None of my fellow AT hikers knew I was out here by myself on this trail, and they wouldn’t come looking for me here if I fell and twisted my ankle or broke something. I had my headlamp with me, so I decided I would rather take the rock scramble and steep sections slow, but safe.
I made it back to the AT right as it was getting dark and rolled back into camp unable to see anything outside the dim beam of my headlamp. As I returned to my tent and finally ate dinner after this insanely long day, I was pretty happy with myself. My detour was much closer to 6 miles, which meant today was a 26-mile day! And I’d snagged my 14th state high point.
Day 84
July 24, 2019
- Route: Brassie Brook (Mile 1506) to Great Barrington, MA (Mile 1522.8)
- Daily Mileage: 16.8 miles
Yesterday’s evening detour up Mt. Frissell really took it out of me! I didn’t even wake up until after 7am, which is a solid hour later than I’ve been sleeping lately!
I’m actually surprised I was able to sleep that late. The temperature dropped again overnight and got all the way down to 50 degrees. I was so cold that had to dig my puffy coat out and put it on in the middle of the night to try to stay warm enough.
I’m definitely looking forward to getting that quilt now. If I’m this cold in Connecticut in July, I can only imagine how cold I’ll be when I get up to the mountains of Vermont and New Hampshire in a few weeks!
BYE CONNECTICUT
The day began with the hike up to the summit of Bear Mountain. It was much steeper than I’d expected and actually quite a bit more difficult than the climb up Mt. Frissell last night. Atop the summit, there was some sort of stacked rock tower and a sign announcing it was the highest mountain peak in Connecticut.
It was the descent back down the opposite side of Bear Mountain that really got me though. It was such a super steep and rocky descent that it was hard to remain upright. Man, I didn’t envy those SOBO hikers who’d had to climb up this last night on the way to the shelter. If this is any indication, hiking the AT SOBO seems to be a lot harder than going NOBO.
Some time during my descent of Bear mountain, I crossed into the west end of Sages Ravine, an old hemlock forest with the a nice river running through it. And suddenly I looked up as saw a sign nailed to a tree welcoming my to the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. My 11th state on the AT!
These northern states sure are going by quick. Ever since I’d finished Pennsylvania, I feel like I’ve been knocking states out left and right. New Jersey. New York. Connecticut. And now I’m in Massachusetts which probably won’t take me a week to finish as it’s only 90 miles long. I really appreciate how satisfying it is to have something tangible marking your progress on such a regular basis. It’s very motivating!
CHANGE OF PLANS
Massachusetts wasn’t all that different than Connecticut it terms of scenery, but somehow it seemed more difficult. The state started out with several sharp climbs and rocky descents as I tackled Mt. Race and Mt. Everett. And sadly, it felt like I was moving super slow all morning.
Rather than get in a funk over how fatigued I felt, I decided to just stop for an early lunch on a bench with a scenic view just beyond Mt. Everett and that lifted my spirits. The break also gave me the opportunity to talk with a mom who was out hiking with her two girls.
When one of the girls saw my pack and asked me where I was going. It was awesome to see her eyes grow about two sizes when I told her I was hiking all the way to Maine. I’m not sure she could comprehend how far that was from here, so I told her I’d just hiked 1500 miles and had close to another 700 to the end of the trail. The look on her face was priceless, and I felt like a real life superhero in that moment.
Even though I buoyed by that lunchtime interaction, the afternoon was not super fun. Massachusetts was kicking my butt. I was planning a lower mileage day, but today was still turning out to be far more difficult than I’d anticipated. My right knee was still acting up, and the rocky descents weren’t doing me any favors.
Shortly after lunch, I gave Keith a call and learned that he and Finn were arriving at their campsite near Mt. Greylock State Park today. His news about his current location got me thinking. If I hiked 20 miles today, I could make it to Route 7 – just outside the town of Great Barrington.
Great Barrington was less than 30 miles south of where they were staying in the RV. So although I hadn’t planned to link up with them for another day or two (when I eventually got to Mt. Greylock), I couldn’t see a reason not to join them earlier. Why not take a day off and give my weary body some rest?
I still had a good lead on Luna and Gazelle. If I finished out today in Great Barrington, I could take a zero with Keith and Finn tomorrow and then hopefully get back on track with them once again.
Spending the night in my own bed tonight sounded like a heavenly idea right now. I wouldn’t have to worry about leaky shelters. Or being too cold in my tent with the chilly nights and mornings. And taking a zero meant I could get this dang knee a day of rest so it would hopefully stop hurting so much.
I NEED A ZERO
When I took a quick look at this afternoon’s terrain profile in Guthook, it seemed like everything after Mt. Everett was generally downhill. So, I was mentally prepared for a relatively easy stroll into Great Barrington.
Unfortunately, the graph was awfully misleading. It was really more of a series of ups and downs that looked like jagged teeth if you zoomed in on it.The trail would decend 200 feet, only to ascend 100 feet. This frustrating rhythm went continued for about 6 miles, and I ended up feeling exhausted and frustrated by Massachusetts from the outset.
Luckilky, the views of the Berkshires Mountains ahead made up for it. So I wasn’t in a completely foul mood. I can definitely see why so many people come out to the western side of the Massachusetts to get away from the city. It was rather tranquil and green.
Unfortunately, the final four miles of the day before I got to my pick-up spot Great Barrington took me past several marshes and bogs. So as you’d expect, the AT was lousy with bugs and mosquitos. This was the part of New England I’d been dreading all summer. Yep. I was ready for a zero day tomorrow!
GREAT BARRINGTON
I reached the road crossing where I was supposed to meet Keith around 5:30 pm and only had to wait about 10 minutes for him to show up. It felt so good to see my two guys, but before I shared all the things that had happened on trail over the past few weeks, I needed some food in my belly. Luckily, Great Barrington had a great little microbrewery with outdoor seating (so I didn’t stink up the place) and we stopped there for dinner on our way back to the RV.
It felt so good to see my family after this last stretch of the trail. I really feel like the past few weeks have taken it out of me. The rocks of Pennsylvania. The heavy rain storms. The intense heat of New York that seemed to want to bake me from the inside out. It was a lot!
Every time I start to feel strong and get past one challenge, the AT had a whole new set of circumstances to throw at me. And I haven’t even gotten to the infamous White Mountains yet!
It’s been a roller coaster of a thru-hike. Sometimes I think I’m growing as a hiker and developing a lot of skills and resilience. And other times, I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop. But one thing is for certain. No matter what this trail throws at me, I know I’m going to make it to Katahdin. Nothing is going to stop me!!
WEEK 12 OVERVIEW
- Lowest mileage day: 16.8 miles
- Highest mileage day: 23.4 miles
- Number of days with rain on trail: 4
- Number of nights sleeping in my tent or AT shelter: 4
- Nights hanging out at friends from West Point: 1
- Nights back in my own bed (in the RV): 1
- Warmest day on trail: 95°F with a heat index of 111°F
- Days where I ran out of water: 2 – yikes!
- Number of outdoor showers: 1 (a big thank you to the town of Kent!)
- Biggest surprise: I’m beginning to cross paths with SOBO hikers!
- How frequently I had to empty the rain out of my Talenti Jar: every 45-60 minutes. All. Night. Long.
- State high points visited: 1 (Mt. Frissell’s SW Slope, CT)
- Microbreweries: 1 (Great Barrington Brewing Co.)
- Total miles hiked this week: 137.3