This
is the sixth of my series of 2025 transcriptions of my journal from my 1976
Appalachian Trail Thru-hike. The journal was compiled from my original trip
notes between the finish of the AT in August, and my 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 are in parentheses.)
The Trail guide for northern VA and southern PA.
May
13, Route 601 CS, 22.4 miles
I
thought my motel room in Front Royal was a bit shabby. For breakfast I devoured
an entire Tip Top breakfast pastry. I’d scavenged through my pack, designated
some (unnamed) items in my return home box, and dropped the box off at the post
office.
The
thirteenth brought bad luck. Being my usual stupid self, I couldn’t find my way
out of town (Where were those blazes when I needed them?). After five minutes
of hitch hiking in the wrong direction, I got my bearings right and soon caught
a ride going the correct way. When I reached the trail, it was part of a
relocation, which still left a mile or two to Mosby Shelter.
At
Mosby Shelter I stopped to eat and read the register. The register warned of a 25-mile
section of road walking ahead. This was to be the first long section of road
walking on the trail (Not sure if this was the first for me, or for the entire
trail). And, this was all new relocation, so I could expect to be lost much of
the day.
It
was very disconcerting when I happened to be following the guidebook all day
(and nothing matched up with what was on the ground). What I followed was
irregularly blazed, and in many cases the blazes were painted over. I assumed I
had missed the new route, and was now following the old route. There were several
times when I was thoroughly lost and then was shocked and saved by an old
blaze. As the day wore on my paranoia increased, and for much of the time I
hardly knew what state I was in. Jokingly, I was hoping to get arrested for
trespassing so I would know where I was.
When
I reached Ashby Gap, I realized I had been on the right route after all. Where
the trail crossed the highway was a tourist trap/junk shop. I bought a coke and
a candy bar from the lady at the counter. After Ashby Gap there was eleven
miles of pure, unrelenting asphalt.
The
trail along Route 601 was well blazed, Good blazing on a relocation took some
getting used to. I was distracted by a myriad of signs along the road. “No
Hunting” and “No Fishing” were the most common, but “No Trespassing” was also
common. At times I felt like I was walking through a long corridor of signs,
each one glaring at me from the side. The hard pavement was pounding my feet,
and I was a lot more tired than the terrain should have allowed. But I guess
the road just weighed on me. I had long ago decided that the trail was more of
a mental challenge, and the key was to keep your spirits up. One sign reading
“No Anything” was enough to cheer me up.
About
7:30 I realized I’d need to bivouac along the road. I looked for an area with less
frequent ”No Trespassing” signs, and set up my tent in the woods. I ate dinner
in about ten minutes and was soon safe in my sleeping bag for the night. I
walked about 22 miles.
Relocation sign.
May
14, Wilson Gap Shelter, 17.9 miles
I
woke up to the sound of cars zipping down the road. Especially in its center,
the AT is no wilderness trail. Except for a few spots, roads are never far
away. I ate breakfast (a few handfuls of Frosted Flakes) and broke camp quickly
as I worried about being caught trespassing.
It
took a while to get motivated for the road walking. I felt out of place as
people drove by me on their way to work, This area seemed a bit like home,
except there were a few too many swimming pools. I hoped to get invited in for
a swim, but was not surprised when no one did. My big excitement of the morning
was passing a restricted area on Mount Weather, which is rumored to be a CIA facility.
Walking
on the road I too often focused on how far I had left to go. Tromp, tromp,
tromp, dull, boring, bugs, I wonder how far it is to the dirt road. But finally,
I left the cursed pavement for natural ground. To celebrate I took a quick gorp
break, and to my surprise another hiker came along. I figured he had to be a
thru-hiker, no one else would have chosen this trail to hike, and no one else
would have been able to catch up with me.
The
hiker was Ran Glennon, a thru-hiker from Boston. I had heard a lot about Fast
Dan Armstrong, but Ran had not seen Dan or Eric either. I’d been expecting Eric
to catch me over the last week, but had seen no sign of him. I still couldn’t
figure out what happened to him. Ran’s hiking mileage put me to shame. He had
hiked until one in the morning last night and had camped near Mount Weather.
Ran
also proved to be really fast, dropping me quickly on the way to Wilson Gap
Shelter. He may have been the fastest hiker I’d meet on the trail. He was doing
yoga when I reached the shelter. I ate lunch and soon he was off to visit Harpers
Ferry. He was the first guy to catch up with me on the trail, and I figured I’d
never see him again.
Wilson
Gap turned out to be a popular place. There were seven other people there that
night. A group of three guys fed me some scraps of steak. I felt a bit like an
animal from the zoo, but I loved the steak.
Ran Glennon, Wilson Gap Shelter.
May
15, Weverton Campsite, 17.1 miles
This
was one of my lazier days on the trail. Since my body had recovered from the
pavement of northern Virginia and the speed of the Shenandoah, I was able to
make good time and take the afternoon off. The day started cloudy and foggy
while the sky went through it’s just about to rain routine. But by the time I
had reached Keyes Gap it had started to clear and looked like it might be a
nice day after all.
Keyes
Gap Shelter was a bad omen of things to come. In northern Virginia, Maryland,
and southern Pennsylvania the shelters are built close to the road. The local
kids use them for parties, and destroy the shelters. There were three guys at
Keyes Gap who were really stoned and still smoking away. I left quickly and
soon passed a group of 53 people. Yes, I did count them all. Unfortunately,
these were mostly 8-year-old girls with a few leaders. I hope they skipped the
shelter, and the smokers.
On
the way to the Potomac River, I passed some strange rock formations that the
guidebook described as bunkers from the Civil War. The trail passed by a
beautiful overlook above the river and Harpers Ferry. It wasn’t hard to figure
out why Harpers Ferry was so vulnerable to attack from my high bluff. Bird above the Potomac River.
When
I reached the highway leading to the river bridge, I took a wrong turn and
headed toward Harpers Ferry. I didn’t realize my mistake until I reached a huge
“Welcome to West Virginia” sign. Even someone like me with a bad sense of
direction ought to know what state he is in. But soon I had myself straightened
out and was back on Maryland soil. I had nothing personally against Virginia,
but it is a hell of long state, 450 miles long and a month’s worth of walking.
(Basically, the first month of the AT gets you to Virginia, and the second
month gets you out of it. The next few days get you through WV and MD and into
PA, so a long section with seemingly little progress leads to a flurry of new
states.)Train along the Potomac.
I
had planned to stay at the hotel at Sandy Hook and met Ran there. Ran had gone
into Harpers Ferry that day for supplies and to visit the ATC headquarters, but
the ATC building was closed (So I skipped the visit to ATC HQ as well). But a
group from Boonesboro was at the hostel and they were really nasty when we
asked if there was any extra room. We sat around the hostel talking and soaking
up the sun. I managed to sneak a quick shower. We stayed at the hostel as long
as we could before moving down to the Weverton Hiker-Biker campsite after
dinner. The campsite was very nice. It was located between the Potomac River
and the C&O Canal, right on the towpath. “And right next to the railroad, I
was reminded as another train went by.” Welcome to West Virginia.
The rain finally came later that night, but I stayed dry in my tarp, though I picked up sand from the towpath.
May
16, Rocky Run Shelter, 10.5 miles
Last
night’s rain continued throughout the day. The nice hiking was along the
towpath early in the morning. Ran had gotten sick during the night, so he was
planning to take some more time off.
In
the rain, the hike seemed dull. I had a hard time getting out of the Potomac Basin,
but the rest of the hiking was level. The highlight of the day was the winner
of the “Scenic lunch spots along the AT” award”. It was the men’s room in
Gathland State Park. I sat there eating peanut butter sandwiches and sipping on
a coke. Out of the ladies room floated some beautiful flute music. It was nice
of those players to serenade a wet, cold thru-hiker. Whoever they were, and
there were a lot of them, they were really good. ”It was easily better than
leaning against some tree and munching away.”
I
finally stopped at Rocky Run Shelter after being battered by the storm all day.
This was my third short day in a row and diagnosed myself with “Rybacks
Revenge”. I needed some long days to make up for it. I admired the courage, and
questioned the sense, of the day hikers who had been tromping around the
mountains in such lousy weather.
Rocky Run is built differently than other shelters. It has a wood bin which makes it very easy to drop things like pens, lighters, and burner plates down cracks. The bin has been converted to an in-shelter garbage pit. Also, the roof had several small leaks.
May
17, Devils Racecourse Shelter, 20.0 miles
I
cured myself of my slow pace of the last few days. It was a great day for walking,
and I covered 20 miles with relative ease. The trail was easy, except for a few
rocky sections, and a steep climb just before the cutoff to Devils Racetrack
Shelter.
I
camped again with Ran. He had called home about his job and managed to get an
extension that would allow him to hike to Port Clinton, before heading home to
Boston (I remember having conversations with him about hiking places we both
knew in NH’s White Mountains,)
I
passed through George Washington Monument State Park, where the oldest monument
to George Washington still stands. While I munched on some gorp two guys walked
up and asked if I had seen any snakes. They were out to catch some. I didn’t wish
them any luck. I’m sure a confrontation with a copperhead would have scared me
to death.
Washington Monument.
I
also passed by the new shelter at Hemlock Hollow. It was a small shelter built
by the landowner and his family. The shelter was for backpackers only, and the
owner reserved the right to toss out anyone he wanted. That seemed like a great
way to keep the shelter in good shape. I was happy to see another landowner
getting involved in the trail. The next day would bring me to Pennsylvania. The
only thing I ever heard about PA was the rocks. I dreaded the abuse my tender
feet would suffer, the stories had to be true because everyone told the same
tale. And unfortunately, PA was one of those long states.
Devils Racetrack got my vote as one of the worst shelters on the AT. It was torn to pieces and sported a huge pile of garbage, mainly beer bottles, along the shelter. True to form, we were visited by some of the local kids out drinking beer. They soon got rowdy and started throwing around their empties. I was glad Ran was there, but even with the two of us, we couldn’t get them to leave. Finally, they did move along, with one girl telling them not to throw any more bottles, because she had walked up from the road in bare feet. Normally this incident wouldn’t have bothered me too much, but this group was so inconsiderate and stupid.
May
18, Raccoon Run Shelter, 18.7 miles
“Rain,
Rain, Rain,” It drizzled last night, but cleared a bit in the morning. However,
when I was up near Chimney Rocks and Snowy Mountain it really started to come
down. The wind was blowing and it got cold. I hadn’t been making good time
until then, but I practically had to run after that just to stay warm.
There
wasn’t much to miss in the rain. Ran and I managed to lose the trail at Pen Mar,
delaying our entrance to PA. That was about the only thing that slowed Ran
down. He did more miles than I, pushing on to Caledonia State Park. I had a
hard time with my right foot. It really acted up around Sanitorium Road,
reducing me to a hobble. To top it off I was freezing and couldn’t go fast
enough to warm up.
Raccoon Run Shelter was tiny. There are two four person shelters at the site. I shared one with another solo hiker, and we hardly had any room. Ran had passed the place up, he seems to think that anything less than a twenty-mile day is a waste.
May
19, Toms Run Shelter, 17.4 miles
My
journal describes this as one of my best days on the trail. The highlight was
one of my biggest surprises on the trip. It snowed! I had some serious thoughts
about my sanity when I first saw it, but the snow was real. The ridges of
southern PA were some of the last places I’d expect to see snow, midway along
the trail. But I suppose Mother Nature always has a few tricks left for the
humble hiker. 
Snowflake on pack.
My
only regret in seeing snow was that I now had lost a standing bet with Eric
Heinrich. I’d thought we’d never see snow on the trip, and bet a quart of ice
cream to back myself up. The bet predated the Smokies, as I figured that was
our most likely place to see any snow. Eric eventually collected a pint of his
winnings, but I never followed through with my threat to mail him the balance.
Ran
had spent most of his night in the heated bathroom at Caledonia State Park
before moving out to a pavilion for some sleep. Men’s rooms are havens for
thru-hikers. I think a classic example is Steve Austin sleeping in the men’s
room at Newfound Gap in the Smokies. There was a small store near the state
park so we both stopped to stock up on supplies.
The
hiking went by fast. I stopped at the Milesburn Cabin, and the guys that were
cleaning it up let me have a look around. But after the cabin, “I had only the
crazy oscillations of the weather to keep me occupied. The change from blue sky
to snow and hail took only two minutes, and the temperature would change about
ten degrees.”
I stopped for the day at Toms Run Shelters. Ran was there so we shared one of the small shelters. Ran was bummed out by the weather and called it a day. I had covered 17 miles and felt great. Pennsylvania seemed better than advertised. But Ran was planning to push to reach Port Clinton and head home. But he had been pushing the pace since I’d mt him, and it was only illness, uncertainty about his job, and the weather which slowed him down.
May
20, Dogwood Run Bivi, 19.6 miles
I
started my day with a treat for breakfast. I ate some Pop Tarts and Cocoa
Krispies instead of my usual boring stuff. I hit the trail around 7AM and soon
came to Pine Grove Furnace. The furnace stack is huge, somehow my idea that the
furnaces are small was way off.
Soon
after I left the Furnace, Ran passed by. He was headed to Allen, PA to get food
and stay the night, so I thought I’d seen the last of him. But I stopped for
lunch around 11, and he came by again. He had gotten lost and had walked two
extra miles. I didn’t see him again until Route 34. There was a Dairy Queen
type place just up the road, so I added a dessert to my recent lunch. I was quite
bloated when I got around to leaving. Our next rendezvous was at Morgans
Campground. Their showers were only 50 cents, so I took a nice long one. In the
meantime, Ran took off for Allen. When my shower was over, I walked back to
campground store to find out it was raining. A lady at the campground said I
could sleep in the Rec Room for $1. Since the clouds had been building all day,
I was about to take her up, when the sun came out again.
Gathering
up all my stuff, I decided to head for the York YMCA buildings on a relocation
about 4-5 miles away. I was all psyched up and made great time. But at the top
of the ridge was a pile of rocks. The trail went berserk, it would go over some
huge boulders, in and out, back and forth, and over this and over that. All the
mindless and fruitless effort made me mad. My anger pushed me along at a fast
pace, but I was still mad at the trail relocators for all the effort I was
spending. I just didn’t know where I was or how long how far away it was to
water or the camp buildings.
Finally,
I decided to camp near a small stream that I assumed was Little Dogwood Run. A
few drops of rain cemented my decision to camp for the night. Luckily, I still
had my tarp. Dogwood Run and Weverton were the only times I had needed it so
far (Also Blood Mountain in GA?) Thumbing through my guidebook I wasn’t happy
to learn that the water in Little Dogwood Run was polluted. Was that what made
dinner taste so good? 
Pine Grove Furnace.
May
21, Darlington Shelter, 17.5 miles
Today’s
hike was in the Cumberland Valley. Right in the middle of the low ridges of
central Pennsylvania is a perfectly flat valley. Twelve miles of road walking
but hardly a foot of elevation to be gained. This was the only place on the AT
where I could see my objective for a solid ten miles ahead. The ridge on the
other side of the valley looked so far away, I thought I might never make it
that far. The size of the valley, put my 2,000-mile trip into perspective.
The
rain last night was hard, but mercifully brief. My bag got damp in a few places
and the tarp was soaked. But the wet stuff didn’t matter much since I planned
the next night for a shelter. I was hardly deep in the wilderness.
I
was on the trail early and curious to see if I’d stopped just short of any
great camping places. “The relocation ended at a place the guidebook described
as ‘rough and rocky, and would be dangerous in wet weather.’ I again threatened
grievous bodily harm for the trail workers, but luckily the rough stuff didn’t
last long.” The bubbling Campbell Spring was the only spot that might have been
nicer than Little Dogwood Run.
Soon
after Campbell Spring, more road walking started. The whole Cumberland Valley
is farmland, so I took to pounding the pavement. Ran had made it to the post
office the day before, but I didn’t see any place he might have spent the
night. The valley was pretty, but road walking soon gets boring and I lost
interest in my surroundings. One advantage of road walking was that you
couldn’t go too far before coming across a coke machine. I stopped for one at a
gas station on Route 11 and used their restroom. When I came out it was raining.
I decided that it might be better for me if I never went under a roof at all.
And it wasn’t like I’d been in there a long time either.
I
pulled Into Darlington Shelter about 3PM after my only climb of the day. The
shelter was a hole. There was only a small area that wasn’t muddy and I slept
there. The shelter had a floor and was accessible by jeep, which didn’t help
the condition at all. But I was too lazy to move on to the next shelter. Luckily,
I had the place to myself.
Cumberland Valley, PA
May
22, Duncannon, PA, 11.1 miles
The
crossing of the Susquehanna River is one of the most important on the trail. It
marks the halfway point of the AT. Somehow Pennsylvania seemed too far north to
be the halfway point, but I’ve come a thousand miles and have another thousand
to go.
I
got up early to give myself some free time in Duncannon. I had to climb down
the ridge I was on, and then climb back up Cove Mountain. The trail was very
interesting. But it was poorly blazed and had a rocky footway. Shades of things
to come I’m afraid.
I
stopped for a gorp break at the junction with the side trail to Thelma Marks
Shelter. Two guys there came up and told me that they were hiking to Darlington
for the day. It was a boost to my ego to know I’d completed their whole walk
before they had even started.
Just
before the trail descends off Cove Mountain it passes a beautiful overlook
called Hawk Rocks. I appreciated the view, especially since there had been few
since I left the Shenandoah. From the overlook I could see the Susquehanna and
the town of Duncannon. It was still hard to believe I was almost at the halfway
point.
As
usual, I got confused trying to follow the trail through Duncannon. I was glad
that the fire station was right on the trail. Ran wasn’t there, so I headed to
the post office to pick up my package, and discovered him there. He told me
that there were no showers at the fire station, so he had stayed at Clarks
Ferry Truckstop, a motel just across the river. The place was cheap, so I
decided to try it. He and I had a farewell meal at the restaurant at the motel.
Ran Glennon, Duncannon, PA
We
took some time to sit in the sun at the motel. I was reading a magazine and
catching up with the real world while Ran copied some notes out of the
guidebook. Finally, he had to go make sure he would be in Port Clinton in time
to make his flight to Boston and start his job. I was sorry to miss him, he had
been great company, though I’d expected him to pull ahead of me every day we’d
hiked together. (I remember that Ran had memorized his campsite for the entire
AT and could list them in order.)
I
went back into Duncannon for a book and ended up with “Shardik” by Richard
Adams, a book I’d seen a number of times along the trail. I had been carrying
paperbacks since Pearisburg (Presumably because Eric had left, and the crowd of
other thru-hikers had thinned out).
Hawk Rock Oerlook.
