This
is the tenth of my series of 2025/2026 transcriptions of my journal from my
1976 Appalachian Trail Thru-hike. The journal was compiled from my original
trip notes after my finish of the AT in August, and before I headed to college
in September. An introduction to this trip is stored at: AT Intro. Photos are scans of
my original prints. (My post 1976 comments are in parentheses.) 
The CT & Mass Guidebook.
June
18, Kent, CT Churchyard, 20.0 miles
For
our last day in New York State Mrs. Henry sent us off with a rousing breakfast.
She was kind enough to also make us sandwiches for lunch. After some parting
thanks, Buddy, Tim, and I were off on the trail again.
We
would have made great time through the New York countryside, except for the
diversions of Pawling, NY. First, we stopped off at a tennis camp for a gorp
break and a coke. Then we got a few cokes at a nursing home right near the
trail. We spent some time talking with one of the attendants about our hikes.
Then,
in a near miracle, we hit a relocated section of trail which took the trail off
the roads and back into the woods. I could hardly believe it. We stopped for
lunch at a little hut (school bus shelter?) along the trail. It was quickly
deemed another “gorp break” hut, but this one was large enough that might have
been able to sleep in it in an emergency. No water there though. After lunch,
after another relocation, we came out right in the middle of Webatuck, NY.
A
lady who ran the local herb store let us get water at her store. She also told
us that there wasn’t any place in town to stay, so we decided to push on to
Kent, CT. Luckily it was only a short climb to the NY-CT state line. The state line
was well marked and had two trail registers. One register had an entry by one
of Hope’s friends describing New England as God’s country. Buddy and Tim did
not agree, but they are entitled to a few mistakes. We would still be in “The Slums
of the AT” until we got to Vermont, but overall, the hiking in Connecticut and
Massachusetts was nice. The two states got overlooked by our wishes to get back
to Vermont, and onto the Long Trail, “The Land of Milk and Honey”.
Connecticut
wasn’t gentle on a tired New Englander. After a tough climb up Mt. Algo the
trail plunged down a boulder-strewed cliff. Under the circumstances, it was
getting dark, it would have been easy to lose the trail. So, of course, I did
get lost and ended up scrambling down some boulders to a road that took me into
Kent, CT. (I’m not sure on these late day/early evening hikes if I was hiking
by flashlight, or if with the longer days I was even carrying a flashlight.
Back in those days even a flashlight with two AA batteries would have had a
very limited life span.)
At
one of the local stores, I ran into Buddy. I reminded him that I’d never gotten
seriously lost until I met up with him and Tim, but now I was getting lost a
lot. (Probably as a result of trying to keep up.) Unfortunately, the Kent
Tourist home was closed, but Tim managed to get us permission to sleep behind
the Church across the street. The only condition was that we would leave in the
morning before the church auction started. To top off the day, we treated
ourselves to pizza at the local grease pit.
June
19, Westport, CT Home, 0 miles
After
virtually running through Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and New York I decided I
needed some time off. I’d been averaging over 18 miles a day since I had gotten
back on the trail. So, after I called home in the morning, I called the
Hendricksons, their son Andy was a good friend of mine from summer camp. They
invited me down to their home in Westport for the day and said that Buddy and
Tim were welcome too. I didn’t know what the others wanted to do, so I told the
Hendricksons that I would call back if I was coming down. I was reluctant to
lose two hiking partners that I probably wouldn’t be able to catch up with
again.
Back
at the laundromat, our headquarters for the morning, we decided that we were
ready for a short vacation. To make hitchhiking to Westport a bit easier I went
off first, and Buddy and Tim would follow. Rides were scarce, both of them
caught up with me. On the way down I called the Hendricksons and when I got to
town they came and picked me up. Buddy and Tim arrived a bit later.
In
Westport, we got a grand tour of the town, and I kept alive my unbeaten string
at ping pong. In the afternoon, Andy showed his slides of hiking in the White Mountains.
It was a good change of pace from doing the hiking ourselves. Andy’s parents
fed us a great steak dinner that night. I got an extra surprise, Bill Pryor,
another friend from camp, came by to visit Andy. I’m sure he wasn’t expecting
to see me in town! (Both Andy and Bill were likely planning to spend the summer
working at Camp before heading off for their freshman years at college, with
Andy going to Brown.)
June
20, Mt Brook Shelter, 10.7 miles
Mr.
Hendrickson and Andy offered to drive us back to the AT to save the hassle (and
time) of hitchhiking back. After a pancake breakfast by Mrs. Hendrickson, we
were off to the mountain again. It was good to see the whole family. Looking at
Andy’s pictures brought back the fun memories of our hiking together. With all
the pictures of the White Mountains, I was eager to return to New Hampshire.
Once
back on the trail we hiked a short distance to Chase Mountain Shelter for
lunch. I was surprised. This poor shelter was as run down as most of those in
New York.
The
most striking feature of the trail in CT was its steep descents. St. Johns
Ledges was likely the steepest of all, but still not as bad as its reputation.
When I went by there was a rock-climbing lesson going on. That did not help my
confidence. I also remembered seeing a picture of someone holding the small
tree that they had grabbed to save themselves from falling off.
After
a short 11 miles we quit for the day at Mt Brook Shelter. This shelter
surprised me by being in good shape, even though it was only 100 yards off a
dirt road. I was surprised to see so few people on the trail in CT. The trail
is close to a lot of people, and it is well maintained. I guess the Catskills
or Long Trail are bigger draws.
About
three miles from Mt. Brook, I missed a chance for a great photo. The trail was
following a short stretch of road, and I was following behind Buddy and Tim,
when up ahead came a sign warning “Slow Children Walking”. Unfortunately, by
the time my camera was out, Buddy and Tim had just turned off the road into the
woods. But at least I got a photo of the sign.
June
21, Boulder Shelter, 14.4 miles
AT sign roadside.
Ah!
The first day of summer. One might expect all sorts of wonderful things to
happen on this day, deer coming to eat out of your hand, or seeing the bird
that makes that strange call. But no, it was just another muggy day like the
two weeks before it.
I
got an early start towards our first objective, Cornwall, Conn. The trail was
mostly a dirt road, and at one point passed through a simply beautiful stand of
white pine. Just before Cornwall the trail crossed a stream on very wobbly log.
I managed to step on a rock and kept my feet dry. Buddy was right behind me,
but he fell in.
It
was reunion time on the trail. After lunch we all ran into Rick Willard hiking
south. Frank Jurkowski’s pack frame broke in Delaware Water Gap. While Frank
went home for a new pack, Rick decided to hike the Massachusetts and Connecticut
AT from north to south. Frank had already hiked both states so they planned to
meet up again to hike New York and New Jersey. We also ran into Mike Tyson, who
had hiked with Eric Heinrich last year.
Buddy,
Tim, and I stopped at Boulder Shelter. We had a choice of three (shelters?) in
a 1.5 mile area, but Boulder was reputed to be the nicest. We shared the
shelter with a kid who trucked in with a tee shirt with “NY to ME” printed on
it. He was headed to the NH-ME state line and had started in Kent. He had come
some ridiculously long mileage, and it was apparent from the way that he
handled his gear that it was his first day out. Buddy and I saw him again near
Mt. Jefferson in the Whites, but he had given up his original hike in
Salisbury, and was out day hiking with his father when we saw him again. He
looked like he was about 14. 
Buddy near Bunker Hill.
June
22, Salisbury, CT Hostel, 19.8 miles
I
came down with another case of the “slows.” I was even further behind Buddy and
Tim than usual. Since they both walked faster than me, we rarely were walking
together, but sometimes I would walk with Buddy late in the day. Usually, I
would leave the shelter first in the morning, and after being passed, I’d
usually mee them at lunch. I didn’t catch up with them this day for lunch since
I’d stopped earlier at Pine Knob Shelter. Unfortunately, the next shelter north
from Pine Knob was 40 miles away. Since my feet were giving me a hard time, a forty-mile
hike in the afternoon seemed like way too much.
I
did catch up with Buddy and Tim on top of Barrack Mountain. I think this was
the only peak in the state that was as rough going up as it was down. We had
heard mixed reports about whether Limestone Springs Shelter was still standing.
Even Rick Willard had not been sure. Buddy and Tim, out ahead, as usual, found
where the shelter had burned to the ground. They thought the fire had been a couple
of years ago, but we later found out that it had been only a few weeks before.
Luckily, it was only five miles from Limestone to Salisbury. Prodded on by
droplets of rain I even made it to the Post Office before it closed. Package
secured, our next item of business was finding a place to stay. We’d already
hiked twenty miles, so we didn’t want to have to move on. As usual, Tim was in
charge of this operation. While he went to work, I went to the local outdoor
store to look for boots. They didn’t have anything, so I compromised and bought
a pair of Dr. Scholls Air Pillow Insoles. Ole’ Doc Scholls has more to do with
the AT than people might think. Without moleskin, half of prospective end to
enders probably wouldn’t make it out of North Carolina.
Tim
did his job well. He found a Youth Hostel and even arranged a ride for us. The
local inn would have cost $24 for the three of us. The hostel was in bad shape.
We had to go over to another building to turn on the water, and all it had was
a latrine. I’d seen better facilities at a lot of shelters. But what did I
expect for $2.50?
June
23, Mt. Everett Shelter, 12.2 miles
We
all slept late at the hostel. After a quick breakfast I hitched back to
Salisbury to mail some extra items home (how come I never mention what gear
I’ve decided that I can do without?). By the time I hit the trail it was 9:15,
a late start for me.
The
trail was great all day long. I saw one deer. It was in a populated area, so
the sighting was a surprise, and turned out to be one of the few deer on the New
England end of my hike. As a warmup for the much larger mountains ahead, we
climbed several 2,000 footers including Mt. Everett at 2,600’. I was into the
Berkshires at last. For the rest of the trip, I would be spending most of my
time climbing or descending.
The
big milestone of the day was crossing the Mass State line at Sages Ravine. This
meant I had only four states to go (MA, VT, NH, and ME). Sages Ravine was
beautiful. It was steep, but there were plenty of camping places and lots of
campers. I met a buddy of Frank Jurkowski’s who was on a day hike. While I was
eating lunch, he gave me a long, complicated explanation of why my feet were so
often hurting. I remembered little of it, but the guy was a runner and seemed
to know his stuff.
The
shelter on top of Mt Everett is supposed to be closed to overnight hikers. It
was designed for picnickers who drive to the mountain top. Everett and Mt
Greylock make Mass unique in that there are two peaks with automobile access.
Anyhow, a shelter is a shelter, and we didn’t want to see a good one go to
waste. We cooked dinner and did our evening chores at the shelter, but tried to
look like we weren’t planning to spend the night. At 7:45 we moved off to the
woods near the shelter because we knew the ranger would check in between 8 and
8:30. He showed up on time, checked the shelter, and left. We gave him some
time to get down the mountain, and then moved back in for the night. Since
there were only four shelters in the 80 miles of the AT in Mass, we had to
learn to make do. 
Appalachian Trail Sign for CT.
June 24, Mt Wilcox Shelter, 20.4 miles
Since
we were camped at Mt Everett we got an especially early start. Despite taking
time to cook oatmeal, I was on the trail at 6:15. Hiking that early in the
morning was nice. The beautiful view from the Everett Shelter was fogged in.
However, only the lowlands were covered, leaving the higher peaks above the
clouds.
Descending
to Jug End was hard in the fog. It was hard to see, and everything was damp.
Compounding this was the steep terrain. The Jug End Spring was a real gusher.
The water poured out of a pipe in a solid stream. After Jug End the next four
miles were all road walking so I made some decent time. The area was rural with
cattle farms, something that we hadn’t seen much recently along the trail.
I
ate my lunch on East Mtn. while enjoying the view. The sky had cleared for the
first time in nearly two weeks. I was hoping the long stretch of muggy weather
was over. I was getting tired of being rained on when ever I had a leaky roof
over my head.
After
East Mtn., I hit another relocation. The trail went berserk, winding all over
the mountain. The extra miles would have bothered me more except that I was
getting eaten up by all the local bugs. Our local trail relocators seemed to be
an indecisive bunch. The trail heading up from Rte. 23 to Benedict Pond had
both blue and white blazes. It was confusing, but we made it to the pond.
At Benedict Pond we all took a swim. Then we hiked together over to Mt. Wilcox Shelter. It wasn’t in too bad shape, only a few holes in the ceiling. The biggest problem was the bugs. It was too hot to crawl deep into my sleeping bag, so bugs had the advantage. To top it off, there was another short rain.
June
25, October Mtn. Shelter, 19.6 miles
Luckily
for us it did not rain long in the morning. We just had the rain dripping off
the trees to worry about. All of us, even me, managed to make good time into
the little town of Tyringham. I had long ago taken to singing to myself while
walking the roads, but somehow the road to Tyringham stood out. My favorites
included Dicky Betts’ “Blue Sky”, John Denver’s Country Roads, and the Eagles
“My Man”, with the all-time favorite of both Buddy and I being Bob Dylan’s
“Tangled up in Blue”. At least my repertoire extended to four songs.
The
store at Tyringham ranked with Snowden, VA as one of the smallest along the
trail. About all I got that was worth carrying was some candy. But, by now I’d
rather run out of dinner food than candy.
We
had good hiking all day long. The only problem was the lack of blazes. A
relocation around Finerty Pond moved the trail off the road and through a
swamp. We passed several ponds, but none were welcoming for a swim.
One
of the highpoints of my day was eating lunch on the bridge overpass above the
Mass Turnpike. I’d driven under the trail many times on family trips, and each
time I told myself that one day I would be up there hiking the trail. It felt
great to finally be up there. This car-width or so of trail along the turnpike
was the only area of the AT south of Moosilauke that I had been on before I started
my through hike.
After
our second twenty-mile day in a row, we stopped at October Mountain Shelter.
The shelter did not have water, but it was in great shape for a structure built
in 1939. One of our remedies against boredom was a guessing game about the ages
of all the shelters. At October Mountain we were passed by two guys hiking
along in black nylon bikini bathing suits. I assume they wore the suits for
their light weight, but none of us dared to ask. 
Tyringham Church.
June
26, Cheshire, MA, Hotel, 19.9 miles
The
ten miles between October Mountain and Dalton, MA included some of the worst
maintained sections of the entire Appalachian Trail. To warm us all up, we hit
the mud that Mass has an undeserved reputation for. Then I went wading through
bushes and brambles that cut up my bare legs. The trail was hard to follow, and
often would disappear into pricker bushes. But the most frustrating thing was
to come to junctions where the trail was blazed leading off in different
directions. The whole section was irritating and no fun at all. 
Logging truck along the AT.
Buddy
and I had lunch on a long section of dirt road just outside of Dalton. He and
Tim had raced along all morning since it was Saturday, and they didn’t know
when the Post Office would close. After lunch we walked together. We were
passed by a huge logging truck. I was surprised to see one so close to the
trail. The rest of the hike to Cheshire was easy, but unexciting. But there was
a great overlook above the Hoosic River just before Cheshire. 
The Hoosic River.
I
met up with Buddy at the grocery store, and Tim pulled in shortly after. He had
found a tourist home in town and found someone to take us up there. We spent
the night at East View Tourist Home run by Mrs. Morey. She had been taking in
thru-hikers for a long time and we had heard of her. She immediately took the
position of substitute mother for us.
We
spent the rest of the afternoon at the laundromat. After dinner we relaxed and
watched a little TV. For the second time in three weeks, we saw the Bob Newhart
Show. Bob was fast becoming a tradition for us.
