I go backpacking. Most of you know that. I am on a mission to hike the length of the Appalachian Trail, one section at time.

The section we had picked for this weekend ran 35 mile from Swatara State Park to the tiny town of Port Clinton, in Pennsylvania.

I walked with 2 friends from from work; our Network Analyst, who sports the trail name, WAN-Man; and a technician, we call her the Uber-bot.

We took off work on Friday, so we could make a three-day weekend of it. It was fun, even though we are allowed to take off work it had the feel of playing hooky.

We got on the trail around noon. The walk started very uninspired. The trail went along a small road, and then up and under Interstate 81. But then it went in to the woods. Once I within the thick summer canopy again, I immediately felt like I had some returned, even though I had never been on this section before. I didn’t have much time to start waxing poetic about it before the trail began to ascend steeply up Blue Mountain.

It was hot and humid. And we were drenched with sweat as we climbed. We reached the top and followed the trail along the rigdeline. The trail was overgrown and the underbrush rubbed against our legs as we walked. After a while I noticed that a lot of that underbrush had three leaves. Poison Ivy. The only saving grace was that I sweating so much that I could hope that the sweat running down my leg would wash off any of the poison that may have rubbed against my leg.

For the most part it was decent trail and we made good time. We covered the first 8 miles or so before the trail turned extremely rocky. It was slow going, trudging through the rocks, especially since I knew that I was close to the shelter and I was ready to be done.

Eventually, we crossed Pennsylvania Route 501 and not long after that we came to the 501 Shelter. I had been told that the 501 shelter was great. But I was immediately unimpressed by it. It wasn’t a shelter in the traditional sense. It was more like a bunkhouse. It had four walls and doors. A huge sunroof. 12 Bunks. and a large table in the middle. On the table was a pizza box. Apparently they delivery to the ’shelter.’ Outside there was running water and even a primitive shower set up.

It went against a lot of what I am looking for when I go backpacking, namely to get away from it all. I considered pitching tent, but rumor had that violent thunderstorms were called for. We unpacked and claimed bunks. We went outside to cook, the stench of the eight hikers staying there was a bit strong.

We ate and sat around and talked until the bugs drove us indoors. I wrote in my journal for a while and then went to bed. I fell asleep quickly. II woke in the middle of the night to hear driving rain on the roof and thunder. This wasn’t my ideal shelter, but on this night I was glad of it.

Continued.