This
is the eighth of my series of 2025/2026 transcriptions of my journal from my
1976 Appalachian Trail Tru-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.)
My copy of the AT guide to PA.
June
5, Pocahontas Spring Bivi, 2.2 miles
After
getting back to Port Clinton, I was eager to hit the trail again. I felt more
at home on the trail now, than I did back in Barrington. I had two quick plane
flights and some hitch hiking to reach Port Clinton. (Again, I wish my notes
had not been so sparse on my logistics.)
All
the way from Damascus to Port Clinton I had been hearing about the hoards of
hikers behind me. Though Ran Glennon was the only one I’d met, I was sure there
were several others. Since I’d been off the trail for eight days, many of those
hikers should now be ahead of me. Meeting them was the reason I was so excited
about hitting the trail again.
I
was restless when I reached Port Clinton, and it was an easy decision to start
down the trail (Presumably, I got into town late in the afternoon.) After a
long two miles I came to Pocohontas Spring and decided to camp there. There was
a group of three and another lone hiker already there. I knew the lone guy was
thru hiking because who else would have drilled holes in the case of their
Optimus stove.
The
first of this new group of thru hikers was Hugh McGowan. I would not see Hugh
again but heard that he eventually finished the trail. I asked him about some
of the hikers that I’d hiked with further south such as Bill Loeper, Chris
Walker, and Martin Axe. Unfortunately, all of them were still behind us. As it
turned out, no one that I had hiked with earlier on in the trip had yet passed
through Port Clinton.
June
6, Allentown Shelter, 19.4 miles
The
Appalachian Trail has a way of quickly putting someone in their place. Being
eager to get hiking, I was on the trail by 6:00 that morning and ready to do
some real hiking. I stopped to see whether the Windsor Furnace Shelter was
standing, and confirmed that it was. Hugh, along with Rick and Frank had told
me that it had burned down. A register entry from June 5 told me that two more
end-to-enders were just ahead of me after spending the night at Windsor
Furnace. While I was at the shelter Hugh passed me by (the shelter must have
been on a side trail). There were lots of day hikers and weekenders at the
Pinnacle and Pulpit Rocks. Taking in the great views, I could see why the
vistas were so crowded.
But
the good times didn’t last. The rain started to come down around 11 o’clock,
and it was not long before I got wet. While at home on my break I had bought a
new Kelty rain cover for my backpack. My old cover had fitted the Camp Trails
model pack I had used before buying my Kelty Tioga, but the old cover did not
extend far enough down to cover my sleeping bag. My new rain cover was
“super-sized, as well as being Kelty green. This seemed like the right time to
try it out.
In
my haste to get out of the rain I got totally lost in Eckville, PA. I had to
ask for directions twice just to stay on the trail. I ate lunch in a little
shack designed as a school bus stop. I couldn’t resist stopping there because
of the sign at the back that read “No Hikers.”
The
rest of the hike to Allentown Shelter went slowly. The last 1.1 miles took me
45 minutes. Along the way I fell off a slippery rock and cut my hand in the
fall. I didn’t notice the cut until I tried to push my glasses up and saw blood
from my hand to my elbow. Luckily, there wasn’t any pain, and covering the cut
with my bandana stopped the bleeding.
When
I got to the Allentown Shelter all the other hikers had moved along. I was
tired from a 19-mile day and decided to stay there. Eric Heinrich had left the
register, so I wrote a bit extra for him. There were also some notes from Hope
Mauran’s friends who were about three days ahead. Some rain, a bad fall, getting lost, a lot of
walking, but good views. I guess I made the most of the perils and pleasures of
hiking in my first full day back on the AT.
June
7, Outerbridge Shelter, 18.4 miles
Of
all the difficult places on the AT, Pennsylvania is the place hikers dreaded
the most. The main reason was the constant rocky terrain which pounds at the hikers’
feet. Some registers became quite explicit about what hikers thought about the
trail. One of the more original entries (from an Iowan) recommended relocating
the trail though Iowa. There wouldn’t be any rocks, any mountains to climb, and
the views would be endless, at least before the corn got too high.
Since
most hikers got impatient with the rocks, their daily mileage increased, up to
20 or 25 miles per day in some cases. I did my bit with another 19 miler to
Outerbridge Shelter. Without any major climbing, hiking in the Keystone State
is mostly a matter of waiting until your feet give up. There wasn’t any way to
hike quickly because the rocks are too varied in size to allow a hiker to get
in a good rhythm. Just to avoid spraining an ankle you have to stare at the
tread all the time. Then there are places like “the Cliffs” where you end up
hopping from boulder to boulder. Those sections of rocks generally had good
views to compensate for your efforts. The Cliffs are the place pictures in the
two-volume book about the AT edited by Hare with the caption “The trail gets
rocky in Pennsylvania.”
The two volume AT book edited by Hare.
When
I read in the guidebook that I would pass by Bake Oven Knob I expected another
unrecognizable bump on the ridge. But the Knob was marked with a painted rock,
just so I wouldn’t miss it.
I
was lucky to have hiked so well all day. Both my back and right hip were still
stiff from my long hike the day before. My boots and socks were also wet from
the prior day’s rain and from the wet grass during the morning hiking. To add
to the fun, all the trail registers carried warnings about all the copperhead
snakes along the trail. I was not disappointed to miss them all.
Because of my early start I arrived at Outerbridge about 3 PM. I spent the afternoon writing thank you notes for my graduation gifts. For dinner I tried a Speedy Chef Chicken Stew dinner that was given to me by one of the local outdoor shops. It was delicious. I had been eating mostly Mountain House freeze-dried dinners, but Speedy Chef put those to shame. “It had huge pieces of chicken which tasted like the real thing. And the flavor was in no way enhanced by the pungent odor of a newly creosoted shelter.”
June
8, Leroy Smith Shelter 17.2 miles
Lehigh
Water Gap is one of the most barren, ugly places along the trail. It wasn’t one
of those bright cheery places you make a point to pass by in the morning to
start your day off right. I’d heard the climb out of the gap was rough, and for
once the hype was right. It took a steep, sheer climb up and around boulders to
get out of the valley. The ridgetop looked like a scene from a disaster film.
There was no vegetation, just a jumble of rocks. The landscape reminded me of
New Hampshire, except that just down the ridge were the trees, bushed and rocks
of a normal landscape. It turned out the cause was a copper (This actually was
the site of Palmerton Zinc Smelter) smelter whose emissions had killed off the
vegetation for a long way down wind.
My
diary for the day reads more like something for a track meet. There is talk of
averaging 2.5 mph over easy stretches, and hopes of getting my speed to 3 mph.
My daily average for the trip so far was 15.1 miles, not counting my days off.
(I think much of my interest in “meeting” other thru hikers was also
competitive, and I wanted to be considered one of the fast hikers.)
Crossing
an unnumbered highway I developed a case of déjà vu. This new section of trail
was maintained by the Delaware Valley Chapter of the Appalachian Mountain Club,
which used the same signs that the AMC used in the trailheads in New Hampshire’s
White Mountains. This was a welcome sign that I was making progress, and
getting closer to my home turf in the Whites.
Due
to my own neglect, I only had packed only a quart and a half of water for a
full day of walking in the heat (Was full summer on its way?). I know some
hikers could get through a full day with only a quart, but I was used to
chugging down about half a quart any time I stopped. Luckily Leroy Smith
Shelter, my residence for the night had plenty of water. I was lucky to never
run out of water on the trip. (In 1976 it was common practice to drink
untreated water from creeks and springs. I never treated water on the trip,
though I tried to use tap water whenever I had the chance. I never contracted
Giardia or any other water born illness on the AT, and don’t know of any other
thru hiker of that era who did. While it was possible in 1976 to drink
untreated water, by the early 1980s when I moved to Oregon, the dangers of
Giardia were better understood, and I began using a water filter in the
backcountry.)
June
9, Delaware Water Gap Hostel, 20.5 miles
Out
of Pennsylvania at last. I hiked over 20 miles to the town of Delaware Water
Gap, PA. For me it was a case of getting up early and walking hard all day. I
was on the trail at 6AM. The rocks of PA didn’t let up, except for a few
merciful stretches of dirt road.
Despite
having my head down all day I saw one deer and a whole lot of toads. This was
my first deer sighting since Shenandoah NP. I couldn’t figure out the toads.
They just hopped around the trail, apparently trying to see how close they
could come to the bottom of my boots.
I
passed a group of five girls near Fox Gap. They had been hiking for all of 15
minutes and nearly passed out when I told them where I had started. I guess we
all need an ego trip every once in a while.
The
Kirkridge Shelter was the last one before New Jersey. The register there was
good. There were many entries warning south bounders to turn back while there
was still time. Almost every entry mentioned the rocks, but there were a few
horror stories of the rocks in NJ also.
I
had ample opportunity to check out NJ closely. Mt. Minsi, the last PA highpoint,
had a great fire tower with views way down the mountain chain. Who would have
ever thought that I’d be so glad to hike in New Jersey. 
View from Minsi Firetower.
Another
group of women hikers recommended a place called the Mountain House in the
Water Gap, so I dropped my pack there. It was right on the trail so I could not
resist. My first stop was the Post Office, which luckily was still open.
While
carrying my package up to the hotel I approached two thru-hiker types coming up
the street. I knew who they were from tracking the registers, but before I
could talk, one yelled, “You must be Hiram Rogers.” I admitted my guilt and
asked who was Buddy Koonce, and who was Tim Line? I had been just behind the
pair since Port Clinton and had been wondering if they would ever slow down.
Buddy
and Tim were also staying at the Mountain House, so we walked up together. Both
guys were from Knoxville, TN (My current hometown, but that’s another story),
and the pair started the AT about a week after me. They had met most of the
same hikers that I had, and had even hiked with Bill, Chris, and Martin for a
while.
The
three of us went to dinner at a local coffee shop with another hiker, Mark
McCormick, who in ten days would head up to the NY-CT line and then hike to
Maine. Although there was a good backpack shop in town, I still couldn’t find
the right pair of boots. Luckily, my damaged boot was not getting any worse.
