This is the fourth of my series of 2025 transcriptions of my journal from my 1976 Appalachian Trail Tru-hike. The journal was compiled from my original trip notes between the finish of the AT in August and heading to college in September. An introduction to this trip is stored at: AT Intro. Photos are scans of my original prints. (Post 1976 comments in parentheses.)
April
24, Pine Swamp Shelter, 16.0 miles
I
woke up early to get a good start on the day. Saying goodbye to Father Charles
was tough, both because I didn’t know how to thank him, and because I didn’t
want to leave. Stan Cotton walked downtown with me. He was planning to
hitchhike up to Vermont and then hike the AT north. After picking up my boots
at the shoe shop (I must have been carrying an extra pair of shoes?), we went
to the Dairy Queen for a final treat. After I ordered a pint, the girl behind
the counter told me that they didn’t have any ice cream because their machines
weren’t yet turned on. I was surprised and Stan asked, “This is a Dairy Queen,
isn’t it?” (That’s a penalty of an early start.) We went next door to the Tasty
Freeze and found their ice cream to be just as good, and a little cheaper. No
ice cream at the Dairy Queen, what was the world coming to?
We
were soon back on the trail and ready to climb Peter Mountain. The guidebook
said the trail followed an old jeep road. I told Eric what the book said and
added a suggestion that a jeep road couldn’t be too steep. The SOB went
straight up. I felt anyone who would try to drive down a road like that ought
to be locked up, after they got out of the hospital.
After
we reached the ridgetop, the hiking was a lot easier. The trees were green and
spring had passed us by on its journey north. Pine swamp was a letdown. It was
nothing but mud and rhododendron. But in general, the walking was good.
We decided to spend the night at Pine Mountain Shelter after we had walked sixteen miles. After a very blah dinner of rice with rice we discovered a shortcut to a store only a quarter of a mile away. We made the trip and bought two beers each and some pie. That topped off a great day. My journal rated it my best day in Va of the trip so far. The coming of spring had sure made a difference (to the scenery and to my mood).
April
25, Big Pond Shelter, 16.8 miles
I
walked 17 miles to Big Pond Shelter. In a surprise, the shelter did not have a
water source. No water at Big Pond? Apparently, the latrine had been
contaminating the pond. (Probably thru Eric’s foresight, we would hike on and
off together thru Waynesboro) we had filled up with water earlier.
We
got a bad night’s sleep due to a combination of weekend hikers, mice, and
cramps in my legs. For breakfast I tried a new brand of granola bars. The
Nature Valley bars were very dry, and not too appetizing. The Carnation bars
weren’t bad, but my favorites remained the Chrunchola bars.
The
day was fairly difficult. Particularly tough parts were around Baily Gap and
Stoney Creek. However, it wasn’t a dull walk. On a long section of road walking
we were surprised by a wild turkey. When they take off, their wings smash away
at all the underbrush making nearly as much noise as grouse taking flight. The
grouse, who were very common in the south, take off with an explosion that
often made my heart skip a beat.
We
also passed War Branch Shelter. This was the nicest shelter we’d seen recently.
It sat below a stand of white pine. Having the love of white pine stands that a
hiker acquires, I was tempted to stay the night there, but knew I needed to
push on,
Our
last excitement was a bit of rain. It only lasted about a half hour, but it
came down hard. The weather has been so dry that there were rumors that
sections of the trail might be closed (due to fire danger). Even the springs
were getting dry.
North
of Pine Swamp begins The Relocation. I doubt any other AT relocation will ever
reach the same level of infamy as this one. The Roanoke AT Club advised hikers
to take to the highways, and they are the ones that built the new trail. The
whole hassle had started when a single farmer had closed the trail to his land.
This action showed how perilous the trail was. I debated bypassing the
relocation, but decided to hike it.
(As I type up these notes, I realize that this central VA section of the AT described in this post is almost a black hole, as I remember very little of it, including the major relocation to come. With the exception of Shenandoah NP, the middle third of the AT is generally considered less scenic than the northern and southern ends. It is probably too much to ask for some of this central terrain to compete with the higher impact scenery around it.)
April
26, Tumbledown Cabin Bivi, 10.9 miles
“Goddamn
that relocation! That bugger ruined what would have been a very mellow day. The
first mile was on whole (old?) trail, which was very nice. Then all hell broke
loose. The trail, besides being rocky, wanders all over the place. The rocks
are jagged and demand constant attention, There are endless ups and downs over
the minor ridges. I was amazed at how tired I was getting just making 25’
climbs. Eric and I broke up the monotony with some Tarzan swings on a vine that
hung over the trail. A good run would get us five or six feet up in the air.” So
much for my general impressions of the relocation, but the trail was worse that
I have described.
The
walk down to Sinking Creek Valley was straight down. We were falling half the
time. We finally came to a pasture which seemed to be near the highway. Then
the trail sent us up a cliff that would have rated about a 5.8, except that it
was all slippery mud, not rock.
Finally,
we hit VA Route 42 near Newport. While Eric went into town to buy food, I
snoozed by the road. At least Newport put us back on the original trail route.
We ate at the town park that had both water and toilets. But soon it was back
up a jeep road to the ridge crest. On the crest the trail left the road and
commenced more silliness over the top of the ridge. The ridge seemed to be the
world’s longest hummock. For added excitement the trail would often dip down
off the ridge only to soon climb back up.
We
passed two endpoints of a loop trail down to a primitive campsite. Hopefully
the plan is to put a shelter there. North of a dirt road crossing, there had
been a futile attempt to grade the trail.
We
camped along a brook beside the trail, though it wasn’t much of a brook and we never
actually saw the water. Eric had pushed ahead and was waiting for me at the
campsite. My journal described this as the first cold day in a while, and I’d
been forced to hike in long pants (my jeans) and a wool shirt for most of the
day.
Eric road walking.
April
27, Trout Creek Shelter, 10.9 miles
We
finally finished off the worst of the relocation. Eric and I pulled into the
Trout Creek Shelter with plenty of time for dinner and eating. Today’s trail
was much easier than yesterday’s. The trail to highway 621 was more of what it
had been like since Sinking Creek Valley. Niday (?) Shelter turned out to be 2
½ miles off the AT. Cabin Branch Campsite was also far off the AT.
Hiram Near Craig Creek.
After
Route 621 the trail was nice. It swings around the crest of the ridge at a
constant elevation. There were also some rhododendrons in bloom. It was the
first time this year I had seen them in bloom. Now I understand why Road
Mountain is such an attraction. The trail was very well graded, and I
speculated that this was where the Roanoke AT Club had started its rebuilding
effort.
Niday, Virginia
We
had another cold day. I started out hiking with my polypro vest on for the
first time since Roan Mountain. We had put up my tarp for shelter before going
to bed at our bivi site. Luckily, we got hardly any condensation. I think the
wind kept the tarp well ventilated.
Rhododendron in bloom.
At
Trout Creek we met another thru-hiker. Reid Nelson started on Feb 8, and had
taken two weeks off the trail. He had caught up with us by hitchhiking around
the relocation. Reid had some of the most bizarre equipment I had seen anyone
carry. His prize piece was an aluminum lawn chair. It was more like a stool and
“weighed hardly anything.” His lounging footwear was a pair of soccer cleats.
He told Eric and I that he was tired of slipping around in the mud in his
sneakers. 
View from the Dragons Tooth.
April
28, Lambert Meadows Shelter, 20.5 miles
We
had a great walk and were glad to be out of the relocation. Even though we
walked 20 miles to Lambert Meadows, today was longer, but easier, than the last
two days. Partly we got an early start, rising in the dark. Poor Reid probably
thought we were nuts.
The
first highpoint of the day was Dragons Tooth, and its impressive views. We were
dazzled enough that we went a half mile the wrong way before discovering our
error. I blamed Eric for the mistake, assuming he should remember the entire trail
from his previous trip.
Eric at McAfee Knob,
Well
down in the valley things were mellow again. As usual our talk found its way
toward finishing the trail. Today’s fantasy was chiefly concerned with getting
up Katahdin despite the efforts of the famous Baxter State Park rangers. At
this point we both felt confident of making it to the north end. But Katahdin
still felt almost infinitely far away.
Finishing the trail still seemed a dream to me.
Hiram at McAfee Knob.
On
the way to McAfee Knob, we destroyed an amazing
amount of food at a restaurant on Route 311 (I consistently failed to note the
names of the restaurants and hotels I stopped at along the trail. I wonder
why?). We also passed Boy Scout Shelter, the only one on the AT built for
scouts. The shelter was big enough to hold about 30 scouts.
McAfee
Knob was the highlight of the day. There were several overhanging ledges on the
side on which the AT passes. The view was amazing; we could clearly see
Roanoke. We each took a pair of the classic McAfee Knob Photo, with the hiker
poised on the lip of the overhang.
The cliffs on Tinker Mountain were also impressive. Again, one wrong step here would have been your last. If you dared to look up, the views were nice. Lambert Meadow Shelter is described by the guidebook as being in disrepair. But it had been fixed up since and now could be called “rustic”. I thought it was OK, but luckily, we did not have rain during the night.
April
29, Wilson Creek Shelter, 18.9 miles
This
was probably one of my fastest walking days of the trip. I got up early to try
a 19 miler to Wilson Creek Shelter. I said goodbye to Eric as he was planning
to go gorge himself at an all-you-can-eat buffet at Travel Town in Cloverdale,
and then hike onto Fullhart Knob Shelter for the night. The time flew by as I
did the miles in the early morning hours. I was deeply daydreaming and had only
the crossing of a powerline to mark my progress. Due to my fast pace the only
thing I saw was a beautiful view of Craven Cove Lake.
The
trail situation near Cloverdale was wild. I crossed under I-81 and then
followed another four-lane highway for ¾ of a mile, it was total misery. Every
time a truck passed I was practically blown off the road. The noise and smell
almost made me sick. Along the way I stopped at a truck stop. The people there
looked at me like a pile of dog feces. The prices were outrageous, but at least
the men’s room was clean.
I
continued to fly on the way up to Fullhart Knob. After turning off the highway,
the trail followed a country road. I didn’t mind the country roads at all. I
came to enjoy the roads not only because they were easy walking, but they
provided a break from all the hiking in the woods.
Up
at Fullhart Knob I spent a long time reading the register and eating gorp. The
closest other thru-hikers were three days ahead. Their names were familiar Ed
Green, Phil Becker, Andy Coonce, Mike Kiney, Brian Jones, etc. Since I hadn’t
met other thru hikers since Martin and his gang, I was anxious to catch up with
those ahead. But a three-day lead was a lot of ground to make up.
I pulled into Wilson Creek and had dinner finished by 4PM. I spent the evening rubbing my feet and went to bed late, maybe 5:30 or so. My philosophical question for the day was “does everyone else talk to themselves when they are alone?”
April
30, Cove Creek Shelter, 16.2 miles
I
walked a boring sixteen miles to Cove Creek Shelter. The lone interesting thing
about the area was crossing the Blue Ridge Parkway four times. I was surprised
to see that the Parkway was just a two-lane road, I had expected a superhighway
(the Parkway is designed to allow low speed, low stress travel). It seemed to
me a great place for a bike trip (and several sections further south are
included in my Smokies and Blue Ridge biking guide Amazon.) I mostly day dreamed
my way down the trail.
The
trail around the shelter (Cove Creek?) had been relocated. According to the
guidebook, I was supposed to reach the shelter before I came across a dirt
road. So, when I hit the dirt road without seeing the shelter I was baffled.
Fortunately, some forest service guys directed me to it. Then another guy going
to the shelter offered me a ride. Since the shelter was now on a side trail I
accepted the ride. When we arrived, we could see that someone had set up their
tent inside the shelter. When the couple with the tent returned from the Peaks
of Otter, I was relieved to find them friendly. Since we were the only ones
that night there was room for all of us.
The other hiker’s name was Bill. Like many people, I met along the trail he wanted to hike the whole AT. He would try it next year when he would be out of the Navy. For some reason I felt that Bill could do it. I felt at the time that I could judge a hiker’s ability very quickly.
May
1, Thunder Hill Shelter, 12.2 miles
Bummer!
I woke up to the depressing sound of rain on the shelter roof. It had been so
long since I had experienced a heavy rain that I couldn’t be sure my raingear
was still in my pack. Finding my gear dissolved my last excuse for not hiking.
Well, it was time to pay some dues. While humming a strain of the Allman
Brothers’ “Blue Sky” I decided that waking up to the chirping of birds made for
a for a better morning.
To
distract myself from the rain I thought about what to get in Snowden, my next
supply stop. Unfortunately, I was on schedule to get there on Sunday, which
meant that everything would be closed. I decided to take it easy and plan to
get to Snowden on Monday morning. Making the decision to slow down on the trail
wasn’t as easy as it might seem, but in this case, I had no other option.
I
decided to spend the rest of the day working on my rainy day hiking technique.
I wore only my T shirt (cotton), shorts( cut off blue jeans), and rain jacket.
Because the jacket was totally waterproof I got a lot of condensation inside.
However, I found that if I didn’t stop walking, I could reach a temperature
equilibrium, and remain relatively comfortable. Consequently, I only stopped
twice all day. I also noticed a big difference between light and heavy rain. In
light rain it was easy to stay comfortable, while heavy rain was by definition,
uncomfortable.
My
theory was proven when I got to Cornelius Creek Shelter. During the short time
it took to scrawl my name in the register, and heave down some gorp, I got very
chilled. A guy from the Roanoke bird club came by on the club’s annual
migration count. He had counted about 15 types of birds just from their calls
alone. I know only two bird calls, I was impressed.
The
rain finally subsided around Apple Orchard Mountain. Although I didn’t go to
the top of the mountain, I thought it to be the last 4,000’ peak before
Vermont. It turned out that honor fell to the Priest, I spent the night at
Thunder Hill Shelter after an easy 12-mile day.
Thunderhill.
May
2, Matts
Creek Shelter, 12.1 miles
I
did another easy day on my self-inflicted vacation, I only did 12 miles to
Matts Creek Shelter. “with a light pack, good trail, and easy terrain it was
practically nothing” I got into the shelter a little after one o’clock. My urge
to move grew as I hadn’t seen much all day. A white tail waving in the bushes,
followed by the trashing of an escape was my only high point. At least the
weather had cleared up, but it was a cold 45F in the morning.
Again,
my diary refers to the trail with the vague “easy woods walking.” Without the
greenery of spring the walk would have been as boring as the browns and grays
of Georgia. At least it was a pleasant section. The only real view was from a
ridge top that overlooked the James River. 
The James River.
While
wasting time at the shelter, I caught up on my rest. The staunch advocates of
slow hiking would have been proud of me. My own philosophy lies somewhere
between the slow hikers and the speedsters. Along with my copy of Thoreau
(Walden) I was entertained by hordes of butterflies, I identified some monarchs
and swallowtails, and there were numerous others. Another note in my journal
adds that I had washed up in Matts Creek and that I should try to wash up at
least once a month.
Good old Eric pulled into the shelter around nightfall after knocking off 32 miles. Those twenty-mile days are tough on me, but 30 miles would be a significant challenge.
May
3, Punchbowl Spring Shelter, 12.8 miles (Snowden)
My
first stop of the day was in the booming town of Snowden. All I could see of
the town was a combination of general store and post office. I got all my mail
and bought more food for the hike to Waynesboro. Luckily, I didn’t need much as
the store in Snowden matched the one in Tyringham, Mass for having the poorest
food selection along the trail.
I
borrowed the post master’s phone for a (collect?) call home. After one
unsuccessful try I got ahold of my mother. All the things happening at home
seemed very far away, it seemed almost like another life to me. After I hung up
I was feeling homesick.
Since
the James River was at an elevation of 750 feet, I had a big climb to get out
of town. The highest point I reached was 3300’ on Bluff Mountain. When I got
there, I was disappointed to see that the fire tower had been torn down.
However, I did enjoy a lone grove of evergreens on top.
Punchbowl
Spring Shelter was a great place to stop. The shelter was very nice and there
was a beautiful lake out front. In a field by the pond, I stretched out to read
my copy of the Dartmouth Freshman Yearbook. I also picked up some sun. To
compliment the idyllic setting, the shelter boasted a new latrine. Since it was
my third 12-mile day in a row, I was getting used to this life of leisure.
