Yesterday was a long day. I had stayed up late and wasn’t feeling a 5:15 AM alarm, so I pushed it back to 6:00 AM.
By the time I finally set out at 7:40 AM, the hiker from Switzerland was already up, but Checkmate was still fast asleep in his tent. My target for the day was a shelter about 25 miles ahead, which would put me just past the official halfway mark. Starting so close to 8:00 AM felt a bit late for that kind of mileage, but I hit the trail anyway.
Around lunchtime, I came across a beautiful shelter that looked like something out of a fairy book. It was a log-cabin-style setup consisting of two separate cabins joined by a covered area with a picnic table. Sitting at the table was a hiker named “Toobi Ree”—as in “to be free,” but without the F. As we got to talking, we both realized we had actually met in Georgia.
Toobi is about my age and struggles to do more than 10 miles a day. The reason he’s ahead of me now is that he decided to flip-flop and skip Virginia. Realizing he wouldn’t make it to Katahdin before it closed if he hiked straight through, he skipped ahead to do the northern section first. Once Katahdin closes for the season, he plans to come back down and finish Virginia. It works for him since he lives in Virginia and his sister lives in Damascus.
A little further down the trail, I met Leapfrog. She is section-hiking the trail on weekends and whatever weeks she can scrape together to get away from her kids and her job looking after developmentally disabled adults. For her, the trail is a much-needed reset. She was having a tough time with her water because she uses purification tablets that leave an unpleasant taste, so I recommended she switch to a Sawyer Squeeze.
Around 5:00 PM, I ran into a man and his two sons, all of whom were smoking. Seems like smoking is back in style, which is unfortunate. Since they’ve lived in Pennsylvania for a while and know the terrain well, I chatted with them about what to expect. They had also lived in New Hampshire, so I managed to get the real lowdown on the Appalachian Mountain Club (AMC) huts. The SOBO hiker from a few days ago had said staying there costs $150 a night for members and $300 for non-members. The father reassured me that the huts are mostly run by college students who are paid a low wage and are just there to have fun. He said they will happily accommodate thru-hikers; you just have to ask for a “work-to-stay,” and they’ll give you a few trivial chores to do in exchange for a place to crash.
As the day wound the trees immediately lining the trail were relatively thick, but if you looked just past them, it was mostly scrub. For at least a couple of miles it looked like a massive cut area, but they had left some dead trees standing as well as some live ones. This seems more sustainable than a clearxur. I suppose that leaving live trees helps seed new growth, and leaving dead ones preserves habitats for birds and insects. However, they definitely weren’t practicing the classic “beauty strip” method that hides logging from canoeists in Ontario. But I guess I’d rather they be honest and log sustainably than leave a fake screen of trees while completely leveling everything behind it.
By 7 PM, I was still half a mile from the shelter and feeling beat. When I finally arrived, I found a single, quite small shelter occupied by an older hiker named One Penny. I dropped my pack in front, introduced myself, and the very first thing he asked me was, “Do you snore?”
I had to admit that I might well be a snorer. One Penny was a little standoffish about it and told me he can’t sleep around anyone who snores. I told him I had earplugs I could lend him and promised I probably didn’t snore that much, but with my dinner already cooking, I decided it would be easier to just pitch my tent. There was no rain in the forecast anyway.
One Penny told me about his hike. He’s walking for charity, having started all the way down in Key West. He’s piecing together a bunch of different trails that will eventually connect to Springer Mountain, and from Katahdin, he plans to continue north into Canada. He’s raising money for Habitat for Humanity, as well as a couple of charities that support veterans and retired or disabled firefighters.
The campsite had built-in tent pads filled with gravel. At first, I was worried my tent wouldn’t fit, remembering a night on my section hike last year where I struggled with a tiny tent pad. But these worked out great, and by morning, I fully understood why the gravel was necessary. The entire campsite is essentially a spring; there was water seeping absolutely everywhere, and you had to watch every step to avoid getting a soaker.
Mile 1076.3 to mile 1102.2 = 25.9 miles
A great example of the long green tunnel
Glad to see shadows, must be some sun! Green tunnel is lovely. Got my pond cleaned and fountain running. Looks great.