The Plan. The big plan, of course, is to walk the entire length of the Appalachian Trail from Springer Mountain in Georgia to Mt. Katahdin in Maine. Since, I do not have six months free to thru-hike it, I hike sections on weekends and use a week of my vacation in the summer to take a big backpacking trip. So far I have hiked about 250 miles from Calf Mountain in the Shenadoah National Park to just North of Pine Grove Furnace (the halfway point on the trail.) At my current pace, it will take me about 17 more years to finish. The plan for this weekend was to walk from Whisky Spring Rd across the Cumberland Valley and finish on Rt 850. 23 miles walked from Friday night to Sunday morning. The real challenge is that there is no camping in the 18.2 mile stretch that goes across the Cumberland Valley.
Friday. I met my partners in crime, my brother and his dog, for this long walk around 5 o’clock. We were on the road by 6. We had to take two cars so we could drive to the end point to leave a car, then drive to the starting point. It was just after 8, when we started hiking. We had about 3 miles to hike to get to the Alec Kennedy Shelter where we would spend the night. It was dark, but there was a quarter moon and not too much cloud cover, so we were able to see without too much trouble. We climbed the mountain and got to the Alec Kennedy shelter around 10, and to our surprise, it was not empty. Inside, wrapped in his sleeping bag was Turtle Dan.
Turtle Dan had started walking, in March, at Springer Mountain. He made it to Harpers Ferry, WV, before he realized that he wasn’t going to be able finish, before Katahdin was closed for winter. So he got a ride north to New Hampshire and walked the Trail over the White Mountains. He then went to Katahdin and walked south back to the White Mountains. Now he was heading north again. He said he wouldn’t be able to finish the whole trail, but he would make sure he hiked in each state along the trail. His plan was to go to New Jersey and slack pack a bit, then move on to New York and Connecticut to finish out his trip. Not bad for a 71 year old back packer.
Saturday. After a good night sleep (well as good as you could hope for sleeping on a plank of wood) and breakfast and coffee we were ready to walk the 18.2 miles to the next shelter. It was very overcast and threatening to rain when we set out. We walked out of the mountains and into the Cumberland Valley with a misting kind of rain falling on us. The trail led between two cornfields. We got the whole authentic farm experience from it too. They had recently spread manure. We walked through fields for a mile or two before we came to the little town of Boiling Springs. The spring there is not really a hot spring, but I managed to miss why it was that the called it Boiling Springs. The Appalachian Trail Council has a Regional Headquarters in Boiling Springs and the trail goes right through the town and right by the ATC building. We stopped there but they seemed to be closed. We took advantage of their Porch. I taped up my feet a bit, try to slow down the formation of a couple of nasty blisters. Ahhh the joy of new boots. We had a big snack (or a small lunch) and headed out again.
When I planned this hike, I had looked at the map, and I’d been to Boiling Springs before, I assumed that we would be walking through cornfields and pastures. That’s mostly what they have in the Cumberland Valley. I was pleasantly surprised as we walked out of Boiling Springs. We did not go right back into fields, we walked through small wooded corridors between the fields and pastures. I know that a lot of people do not like the stretch of trail that runs through the Mid-Atlantic. They feel it runs to close to civilization, that there isn’t enough wilderness. I understand why they feel that way, but that’s not how it seems to me. Maybe because I’ve lived most of my life in the Mid-Atlantic sprawl, I see it differently. I find it remarkable and reassuring, that in the middle of farms, towns, highways and suburbia there are enough little pockets of wild to string the Appalachian Trail through them. We walked past houses, farms, a shooting range, but most of those people never knew we where there. We walked in the invisible world that is the Appalachian Trail.
4 or 5 miles out of Boiling Springs, the trail went over a fence (someone had built stairs over the fence) and into a pasture. In that field there were two horses and the trail went right between the two of them. As we walked though this pasture, the horse to our left looked up and started walking towards us. My brother gave it a polite nod, and the horse nodded back. The horse got a little closer and must have got a whiff of the dog. The horse started and snorted and started swinging his head back and forth. It came around and got between my brother and me. For a second it look like the horse was going to knock him down. He told the dog to sit, remarkably the dog did. That seemed to placate the horse, he went back to grazing, but now he was standing in the middle of the trail. My brother and the dog walked to the other side of the field and went over the fence. I cautiously walked around him, giving him a wide berth. Just when I thought I was in the clear the other horse looked up. He walked over to me until his big horse face was right in front of me. Unsure of what else to do I reached up and petted his nose. He jumped a bit (I’m pretty sure I did too.) I started walking again. The horse fell in behind me, with its head practically over my left shoulder. I stopped and looked at him and he gave a horse look that I took to roughly mean “whatcha looking at!?” I think, maybe, he smelled the trail mix in my left pocket. I started walking and he followed me almost to the fence before he went back to grazing. I know, it’s not like I came face to face with a grizzly or something, but it was an up close and personal encounter with two very large animals.
That brings us to about the halfway point in the walk. I’ve bored you enough for one day with this, I’ll publish Part 2 soon.