This is the fifth 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 my heading to college in September. An introduction to this trip is stored at: AT Intro. (Post 1976 comments are in parentheses.) Photos are scans of my original prints.
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| My faithful trail guide. |
Another
day of easy walking. Eric and I went 16 miles to Wiggins Spring Shelter. The
only two climbs of the day were Bald Knob and Cole Mountain. Bald Knob was a
disappointment. After a 2,000’ climb there was no view. In contrast, Cole
Mountain had a great summit that reminded me of some of the Southern Balds.
The
other highlight of the day was the Lynchburg Reservoir. The trail circled a
long loop around the lake. It had been a long time since I was tempted to go
swimming, but since swimming in the reservoir was prohibited, we passed it by.
But if it had been a little hotter, we probably would have found a secluded
cove and taken the plunge.
Brown
Mountain Shelter was one of those beautiful shelters so common in Northern
Virginia. They were the nicest along the trail until those in Maine. This one
had a pretty stream out front. Eric and I stopped there for lunch. While eating
we decided that the five bridges we had already crossed that day were a record
for the hike.
After
dinner, some local people stopped by the shelter. One of them told us the story
of Wiggins Spring. “Old Man” Wiggins used to have a farm up in the area. One
day he stopped by the spring for a drink. As he looked down, a rattlesnake bit
him right on the top of the head. As a result of the bite, the old man died.” I
don’t know if that is true, but it makes a spooky story to go with a beautiful
spring.
This
was my first 20-mile day in nearly a week. Eric and I hiked all the way to
Harpers Creek. It was a more scenic day than the last few. We hiked over
Maintop and the Priest, which would be our last 4,000-foot-high mountains until
we would get to Vermont. 
View from Spy Rock.
Despite
our long day, and numerous short relocations, we took time off to visit Spy
Rock, with outstanding views. I took a picture of the immense south side of
Three Ridges. Fortunately, we wouldn’t have to climb it until the next day. Besides
getting some great views, we also saw some outstanding springs. Lovingston
Spring and the one at The Priest were cold and delicious. The obvious
comparison is the dryness of the Walker Mountain section further south. The
springs were especially welcome as the weather has warmed the last few days,
and we were sweating a lot while hiking.
The
most grueling part of the day was the long descent down to the Tye River. It
was one of those endless series of switchbacks that turns my knees to jelly.
However, at the bottom of the descent we were rewarded with a new suspension
bridge. But then we had to climb most of the way up Three Ridges. 
Tye River Bridge
When
we got to the shelter the people there told us that Andy Coone and Mike Kinney
were only a day ahead of us. Since these were two of the famous thru-hiker names
in the registers ahead of us, we were anxious to catch up and meet them.
Since
this would be the last day I would hike with Eric for a while, it seems
appropriate to describe our hiking style. (Eric aborted his thru hike and
headed up north to meet his brother Alan. Hopefully, I’ve got more information
about his trip later in this journal.) There’s a bit more to it than putting
one foot in front of the other. When two people hike together one is usually
faster, in our case that was Eric. It was when we were in no hurry and in a
mood for conversation that I led. With the urge to boogie, Eric would take off
and I would follow. Ours was a loose arrangement and we would typically go at
our own pace and walk our own distance.
Waking
up at five in the morning is not always as exciting as it sounds, especially
when it is still dark out. But despite my groans of protest, we were up and
ready to put in a long day of hiking. We ate breakfast and packed up as it
slowly grew lighter. The only thing that had woken me up was the attack of a
young skunk upon my pack. Despite all my efforts at negotiation the skunk was
determined to get my food. Finally, I used Eric’s walking stick to nudge it
away (Eric always had a hiking stick, while I went without one.) Fortunately,
it left without squirting me.
Climbing
up the rest of Three Ridges was worse than I expected. The trail just seemed to
climb endlessly. Also, my foot (which one?) hurt so much that I cringed just
taking another step. After six miles, I pulled into Maupin Field. The shelter
had four occupants and Eric. The four were Andy Coone and Mike Kinney and two
guys from Minnesota, Rob and Tim, Andy and Mike were two of the weirdest people
I had ever met. Rob and Tim were hiking from Georgia to Harpers Ferry. They had
passed Eric and I when they hitchhiked around a 90-mile section of the trail (probably
the relocation near Roanoke?).
I
was surprised to find out how fast they all walked. Mike and Andy were the
short and stocky types, but Rob and Tim were long tall hikers. The only one that
didn’t leave me in the dirt was Mike. The first time I caught up with them was
lunch. In the afternoon I came on everyone’s packs piled up at a Blue Ridge
Parkway crossing. I waited for a while for them to return, when they didn’t
show I headed on and assumed they would catch up. And catch up they did. They
ran by barely slowing up enough to say hello.
Mike
had hiked all the way from the first Blue Ridge Parkway crossing. He met a guy
who offered to take everyone’s packs into Waynesboro. The four of them ran into
town and I plodded onward at my own dreary pace. I got a little depressed
missing out on the rare luxury of pack free hiking. At the highway I thumbed a
ride into town.
With
my urge for the pleasures of civilization at a peak my first stop was
McDonalds. Waynesboro was the first town along the trail to be big enough to have
one. Just to spite the rest of the group I didn’t eat my food until I got to
the fire station (where we were planning to stay). By the time I got there I
was exhausted. I’d walked 23 miles on the trail and another mile to get to the
fire station. This was my longest day so far.
After
I had my meal, we all went out to dinner. We ate the salad bar at the Bonanza
Steakhouse almost dry. We also freaked out the other customers. The only others
in the main room were an Amish family. The rest were huddled in the corner
booths. I can’t imagine what would have happened if we all hadn’t already
showered. On the way back we stopped to buy food. We ended up sleeping outside
of the fire station on a beautiful full moon night.
To
the northbound AT thru hiker, the Shenandoah National Park is not the paradise
that it could be. The main hassle with the park is the rules imposed for
camping. The park’s proximity to Baltimore and DC ensures that it is heavily
used in summertime. Also, almost all of the AT is within a two-mile walk of the
Skyline Drive. All its shelters are within a mile of the road, and all are very
accessible. (The easy access meant the shelters were often misused for parties,
and required increased maintenance.)
The
impression I got was that the park was geared toward day trippers, rather than
those out to enjoy the woods. You could drive almost anywhere in the park, but
it was very difficult to get away from cars. My opinion (then) was that cars
should have been prohibited in the park. A person shouldn’t be enjoying nature
and destroying it at the same time.
Some
of the park rules are particularly tough on the thru-hiker. For example, just to
hike through the park requires a permit. I don’t have an issue with hiking
permits, and even walked to the park entry to pick one up. But there was no one
at the entry booth, so I spent five and a half days in the park without a
permit. Next, the list of places where you can’t camp is long, and includes all
the park’s 17 shelters. Apparently the NPS had a lot of trouble with city
people moving into the shelters. So instead of tearing the shelters down or
implementing a permit system like that in the Smokies, they just decided no one
could use them. A third rule prohibited glass containers for obvious reasons.
It
took a lot of effort just to get me out of Waynesboro. The rest of the group
planned to take a rest day, but I wanted to get on the trail. Andy Coone got
some bad news in the mail, his job starts a month earlier than he’d expected,
and he’ll need to get off the trail. Mike decided to hike to Harpers Ferry with
Rob and Tim. Eric is also changing his strategy, he’s going to start his 24
mile per day pace tomorrow. I’ll miss his company from now on. And, as it
turned out, Tim hitched out to the shelter. He and Rob decided to split up for
a while.
Since
I didn’t hit the trail until noon, I stopped for the day at Sawmill Run
Shelter. As was to be my custom in the Shenandoah, I sat around the shelter and
cooked my dinner there. Dinner was great as a couple from Boston had some extra
stew meat they were shish-kabobbing, and it tasted like the finest steak
around. I laid out my sleeping bag down the hill from the shelter. Like all my bivouacs
in the park I was camped illegally, but I was far enough from the shelter that
I thought I’d get away with it (and there was not another option).
Skyline Drive in Shenandoah NP>
Despite
my negative comments above, the trail itself was one of the finest sections of
the AT, and without a doubt the easiest. (The flip side of all the access off
the Skyline Drive was easy access for maintainers. The SNP AT had wide smooth
tread that would have been ideal for mountain bikers, had those been invented
yet. And with the trail hugging the crest, any climbs were short and gentle.)
To any thru hiker the easy trail is an appreciated blessing.
Ivy Creek Shelter.
May
8, Ivy Creek Shelter, 19.2 miles
Saturday
afternoon seemed like the time when all the day hikers arrived at Shenandoah. I
hadn’t seen so many people on the trail before “A lot of them stared at me like
they had never seen a backpack before. However, most folks I talked with were
friendly, though a few were a little rude when I told them what I was doing. I
guess they thought they were getting a line of “BS.”
The beautiful park trail just seemed to flow
by. There were no big climbs. The trail was so well graded that I hardly
realized that I was going uphill. Compared to the George Washington NF, it was a
walk in the park. Despite all the people it was good day for wildlife watching.
I saw a wild turkey and a group of four deer. The were hundreds of birds and
squirrels about. I took lots of pictures of the deer and park trail signs at
the Skyline drive crossings.
Deer, Shenandoah NP.
But sometimes the Drive was a bummer. I crossed
it 5-6 times just going to Ivy Creek Shelter. Even when you can’t see the
Drive, you can hear it. I’d hate to be there in mid-summer, you probably
couldn’t cross the road for the traffic.
I walked 19 miles to Ivy Creek Shelter. I
decided that my right foot needed a few miles in the morning to settle into my
boot. But then after about 15 miles it starts to complain again. The easy park
trail was gentle on my feet today.
My pack along the Skyline Drive.
The shelters in the park are really nice. Not
only do they have big stone fireplaces, but some even have latrines. The place
where I slept was semi-legal, I figured I could get away with staying there.
Since I’d thrown away my peanut butter jar, I figured I was entitled to some
extra privileges.
I was surprised to have the whole shelter to
myself. I thought Eric might pull in, but he never did show.
Sign along the Skyline Drive.
This
was my longest hiking day on the AT. (And remains my longest backpacking day
ever). I walked 24.4 miles to Bear Fence Mountain Shelter. The main reason I
decided to try to walk so far was curiosity. The Shenandoah AT is legendary for
easy walking. I wanted another physical challenge, and got it.
Being
consistent with most theories of long distance hiking I covered my mileage not
by walking fast, but by walking steadily. Over the first 20 miles I took few
breaks. The trail was much less crowded than it had been on Saturday. My only
distraction was a group of three deer who allowed me to approach within 15
feet.
Despite
my fatigue, the shelter here looked good. Most hikers will never know that
feeling that the first sign of the night’s shelter brings to the thru hiker. I
pulled in with ample daylight left. The hike, hike, hike principle can get
boring. My original journal for the day is negative, Anytime RichMoor Ham
Stroganoff takes good, you know something is wrong.
My
hiking strategy was to walk four miles, take a break, and then walk another
four and eat half my lunch. Then I’d walk another four and eat the rest of my
lunch. The rest of the afternoon was broken into two and three mile sections. I
tried to stick to this pattern in the Shenandoah, but eventually I found the
schedule too confining, and not worth the effort. Hiking these big mile days
through the park left me feeling like I was missing out on things, and gave me
thoughts of coming back again, maybe earlier in the spring. (My only return
trip to Shenandoah was in December of 1977, when I met up with Buddy for a six
day trip.) 
Trillium, SNP
This
was another long day. It was an easy walk, but I was just down mentally. My
first disappointment was showing up at one of the Wayside restaurants at 10:30,
and discovering that breakfast was 8-10, and lunch was 12-2. I was stunned, was
that any way to run a restaurant? (Maybe so in the midweek of early season).
Skyland
was only 8 miles away, so I decided to try to catch lunch there. After a three
and a half mile trot I decided to bag it and whipped out my squeeze tubes to
eat my usual fare of peanut butter sandwiches for lunch. I’m not sure if it was
because I’d been so looking forward to the real meal, or just because this was
my first time using the squeeze tubes, but looking at the peanut butter coming
out of the tube did nothing for my appetite. (I probably was trying squeeze
tubes for the first time since glass jars were prohibited in the park, and in
those days peanut butter came in glass, not plastic, containers). 
Hawksbill.
I
took it easy the rest of the way to Skyland. I even skipped the side trip to
Hawksbill. I got disoriented looking around Skyland, it was a large complex,
and I wasn’t sure where the food might be. I got some candy bars hoping to
cheer myself up. “I also bought a Mr. Pibbs, which I thought was some kind of
root beer. Even though it tasted horrible I drank the whole thing. My first
reaction was an upset tummy, then I thought I’d fall asleep. “Ah well, live and
learn.”
“Finally,
I made it to Shavers Hollow, which was 0.3 mile down a cliff. It was nice, but
after reading the guidebook description I expected a palace. Anyway, the water
was good.” 
Typical trail section, Shenandoah.
Sitting
around the shelter eating dinner I predicted rain for the 20-mile hike I had
planned for the next day. Unfortunately, I turned out to be correct this time,
but I had other, more immediate worries. I couldn’t find a level place to lay
out my sleeping bag. Luckily, I found a blown down tree whose root ball had
pulled out leaving me with a coffin sized flat area in the midst of the slope. 
More deer.
My
luck finally turned, I made the Panorama Restaurant on time. Of course, they were
still serving breakfast when I was ready for lunch. To top off the meal I had
an ice cream cone. The cones came in two sizes; regular and hiker. Even the
hiker size was skimpy, perhaps they need a thru-hiker size, served in a bathtub
maybe?
The
walking was typical Shenandoah boogie country. I set a new record for shelters
passed in a day, going by four of them. They were all well-kept and nice
looking. I was luckily to visit so many as I was dodging rain throughout the
day. 
Byrds Nest No. 4.
I
stopped for the night at Gravelly Spring after hiking 20.5 miles. The only
others there was a group of six from Missouri who were walking the whole AT in
the park. At one point one asked how many people might have hiked the full
Shenandoah AT and I opined that it was likely a lot, bursting their bubble I’m
afraid.
The
rest of my journal for the day is concerned with the luxuries I might find the
next day in Front Royal (my next resupply point). For someone who hadn’t slept
in a bed for a month, or had a roof over his head for a week, a motel room
sounded like the lap of luxury.
During
the night I was awakened by the pitter patter of rain drops on my sleeping bag.
I quickly decided to vacate my campsite which was nestled by a ”No Camping”
sign. In the dark I stumbled towards the shelter, not really sure I knew where
it was. I almost fell into the spring before finding the shelter. In true
thru-hiker style, I was back asleep within a minute.
I
woke up early the next morning anxious to be on my way to Front Royal. I had
carvings for MacDonalds and a Holiday Inn. Time went by quickly as I debated
whether to go into Front Royal from the first or second gap. Going to the
second gap would mean an extra five miles of walking. 
Cumberland Valley.
At
the park boundary I saw the first trail register I’d seen since I entered the
park. After confessing my sins of illegal camping, I moved along. I little
while later I came across Floyds Wayside. It was more of a pavilion than a
shelter, with just a roof and floor, but no sides. There were also supposed to
be tent platforms on a side trail, but I did not check those out. The Wayside
impressed me. The AT here was maintained by the private Potomac Appalachian
Trail Club. However, a relocation adding two more miles of the AT cooled some
of my enthusiasm.
Eventually
I came to the highway and stuck out the thumb, hoping for a ride into town. The
extra trail mileage had dulled any thoughts of wanting to walk the five miles
into town. My usual poor luck with hitchhiking held long enough that I
recognized cars that were passing me a second time on their return journeys.
One car passing the other way honked. I almost responded rudely, but then they came
back around and gave me a ride. Any thru-hiker will tell you it’s no fun trying
to hitchhike along the AT to town.
The
driver was a ATC member, and he confirmed that the ATC Patch on my huge
backpack was the reason he’d stopped. This was the only time the AT patch, not
my pack, got me the ride. The driver dropped me off at the Post Office to pick
up my supply package and they directed me to the Quality Inn.
I
spent the afternoon buying groceries, reorganizing my pack, and reading about
the outside world. I missed dropping my (return?) package off at the post
office (so presumably would need to wait until the next day to mail it home).
My long shower left a dirt ring around the bathtub. Who says hikers are dirty
people?
For
dinner I went first class, all the way to MacDonalds. It was good to have a
little meat once in a while. My freeze-dried dinners advertised beef or
chicken, but I’m sure even a lot of chefs would have a hard time finding it.
I
was surprised that I did not sleep well in the hotel room. The soft bed was not
what I was used to. But it felt good to just rest my body. After a 20-mile day
it seems I needed extra rest to recover.
