Forget the Rocks – Let’s Talk About the People of Pennsylvania

People love to hate Pennsylvania. 

If you’ve read or listened to anything regarding the Appalachian Trail, then you more than likely have heard of the Pennsylvania rocks. The state is infamously referred to by thru-hikers as “Rocksylvania” (or my most recent favorite, “Pencilvania,” since some of the rocks feel like pencils jabbing into your feet as you walk). There’s a reason that Pennsylvania – particularly the northern section – has been voted thru-hikers least favorite state. Let’s just say the rocks leave a really bad taste in your mouth (or throb in your feet) that makes it hard to remember the other things that Pennsylvania has to offer. However, I’m going to say something that I know others will find controversial:

I loved Pennsylvania. 

The beautiful Pennsylvania fields

When I said this out loud to a section hiker in New Jersey that asked how I liked the state, he was taken aback: “You are the first person I’ve heard say that.” I’ve had people look at me like I’m crazy when I say it, but I mean it: Pennsylvania gets a bad reputation that it doesn’t deserve. 

If you look past the rocks, you will find something truly special – a network of people that work to keep the spirit of the AT alive in a place where many hikers begin to feel broken and burnt out. I was so overwhelmed with gratitude at the kindness and generosity of the people of Pennsylvania that at times it left me speechless – “thank you” just didn’t feel enough. So I’m here to defend you, PA – and to hopefully shed some light on the overall culture and community of the Appalachian Trail. 

Official halfway point

To give some background for those unfamiliar, there are some terms that we use to describe these amazing people that help support the maintenance, management, and hikers of the Appalachian Trail. “Trail magic” refers to an act of kindness that a stranger bestows upon a thru-hiker. This can be as simple as picking up a hiker for a two mile drive into town to the grocery store or as complex as providing housing and meals. People that complete these acts are called “trail angels” – and boy, aren’t they. Literally sent from heaven above, these people devote their time, energy, and money to keeping both the trail and the hikers clean, safe, and ready-to-go. 

If the world is feeling a little dark for you, I suggest reading on. You may just find a little light.

But First – Let’s Talk About the Rocks

Yes – there are rocks. I promised I would always be truthful about the trail. However, the very rocky section of the Appalachian Trail is almost exclusively found on the 80-mile stretch from the descent into Port Clinton to the town of Delaware Water Gap. The rest of the trail in Pennsylvania is made up of diverse landscapes with beautiful, rolling sections. I was particularly enchanted by the farmlands with expansive, open grassy fields and the forests filled with pines that reminded me of my childhood. 

Not only is the trail beautiful, but there are some great opportunities for rest, relaxation, and fun in the quaint towns and parks of Pennsylvania. There were almost too many places to chill – the trail itself was its own vortex. We all found ourselves relaxing on picnic benches in parks, going for dips in pools and streams, enjoying the plethora of town food options, and even visiting a museum all about the AT. Even the shelters in Pennsylvania were just better (literally one shelter had potted plants and Adirondack chairs).

Obligatory picture of the Knifes Edge

Although my feet looked like sausages, I even loved the rock scrambles. It was adrenaline pumping, and the views from the exposed ridgelines were stunning. Sure – the miles of rocks got monotonous, but it was different. I felt a change in the trail here – something new and exciting. It was a perfect halfway mark. 

Looking down from Lehigh Gap

There have been many articles posted about the terrain of Pennsylvania, so I won’t spend much time here. But if you want to know more, I particularly enjoy the State by State overviews on the Trek and found the Pennsylvania description to be incredibly accurate (as well as the rest of them, honestly). 

The Magic in the Mayhem 

I want to paint you a picture. 

A heat wave settled in among the Pennsylvania pines. I’m from South Carolina, so when I say it’s hot, it’s really hot. There is no escaping the heat when you are thru-hiking. The humidity was stifling. We were all sweating so badly that we could wring out our clothes. 

Pennsylvania doesn’t have as many water sources as its southern neighbors. Water carries can be long in some stretches – and in the high temperatures – sources can begin to dry up. I saw, within a matter of days, three sources where the flow deteriorated until nothing was left but rocks. Combined with the humidity and excessive sweating, this makes for a bad situation for hikers – borderline dangerous. 

To ensure hikers had water, trail angels left water caches – jugs of water at road crossings and trail heads – for hikers to replenish their bottles. Some of these caches were vital – saving us from miles of walking in the heat until the next water source. 

An example of a water cache

One particularly hot day, I was dying for some cold water. The water in my bottles would warm quickly in the heat from the sun and my body. It was incredibly unsatisfying, and I had gotten to a point where all I could think about was an ice cold drink. When all you have to distract yourself is the rhythm of your own two feet, this becomes a vicious thought cycle. 

I came down a trail to notice a cooler. On top, a kind note was written to thru-hikers from Lisa’s hostel in Boiling Springs, PA. Inside – ice and freezing cold waters. I literally hollered. It was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen.

This type of thing just kept happening. Coolers of waters, Gatorades, and snacks left by community members who essentially adopted sections of the trail as their own. I met Doc and Riblet, a couple that left sandwiches, drinks, fresh fruit, and myriad other goodies for us. I was fueled by a Gatorade, a rice crispy treat, and a RX bar by a former thru-hiker named Slick on a long day to a shelter.  I woke up from my tent one morning at a pavilion in the town of Port Clinton maintained by a church for thru-hikers to a goodie bag of treats left by my tent from a local. I even came across a cooler of Gatorades left by a 2024 thru-hiker named Bass that was home for an injury, who I later had the pleasure of meeting in Massachusetts. 

Goodies left outside my tent

Every day it felt like I was showered with kindness. It went beyond just treats and goodies too. It seemed as if the people truly cared about the thru-hikers in towns (which isn’t always the case). The “Hikers Welcome” sign on the outside of the gas station in Duncannon was a beacon to me when I was deliriously hot in 100 degree temperatures. The air conditioning in there, along with the booth decorated by an Appalachian Trail poster on the wall, was a gift from the heavens above.

Heaven on earth

I stayed at The Lookout hostel and got to visit again with Yardsale and Glen, the owners that I met previously at Woods Hole, who offered great advice and warm conversation. Joe, the owner of Detzis Tavern in Wind Gap, let hikers sleep in the backyard of his business. He welcomed us in the morning with coffee and a big smile. We sat at his bar with him and chatted; he said he loves meeting hikers from all over the world, and he just wishes everyone could get along with each other. He gave us a ride back to trail in his truck, leaving a parting gift of chocolate in our hands before we set back off into the woods.  

Yardsale and Glen (left) owners of the Lookout Hostel

As If That’s Not Enough 

I was sitting at the dining room table of Natalie and John’s home. I had just enjoyed a meal of vegetarian lasagna (made without meat, just for me) and strawberry shortcake, and the three of us were watching the birds visit their feeder. Natalie and John are Pennsylvania locals, and Natalie and I had connected online after she had seen some of my blog posts. She invited me to stay at her home during a very hot day, and I graciously accepted. I was met at the trailhead with a cold drink and a warm smile as she helped me get into her vehicle. 

It takes a lot to invite a complete stranger – let alone a stinky, dirty one – into your home, but Natalie went above and beyond. As she walked me through the house, showing me where I could do my laundry, take a shower, spray my clothes with Permethrin, charge my electronics, the list goes on and on – I was honestly speechless. Kindness of this proportion is almost unheard of in day to day life, and I couldn’t help thinking: “What did I do to deserve this?” 

After a homemade meal and the best company, I enjoyed a night of sleep in the air conditioning and was treated to breakfast and coffee in the morning. I said an inadequate feeling “thank you,” and John replied, “We have to do something to make up for the rocks!” I gave Natalie and John both hugs. In a matter of 24 hours, they felt like family. I knew my mom and dad would be so grateful for how these strangers had treated their daughter.

Me with trail angel Natalie

The Bigger Picture 

The Silver Scramblers are a hiking club out of Massachusetts, and they are called “silver” (as I was told) because “look at all of our hair!” They had set up an amazing trail magic outside of Great Barrington, MA, and I was sitting with them chatting and enjoying some treats. There were a lot of people – so I don’t remember specific names – but one lady asked, “What is the biggest surprise you’ve had on trail yet?”

Without hesitation, I replied: “This.” These acts of kindness that are given with nothing expected in return. This support for a group of strangers that have set out on a slightly insane mission to hike 2,200 miles through the Appalachian mountains. The kindness bestowed upon others that knows no bias or judgment.

There is something about this trail – this community – that brings people together in a special way. It is the epitome of all the cheesy quotes about kindness and compassion in the best way possible. Above all, it is inspiring. It empowers those that are receiving this magic to give it back. 

I witnessed this first hand in Connecticut when I stumbled upon some trail magic. It happened to be another heat wave and quite possibly one of my worst three days on trail. There were two men sitting beside a cooler that offered me some doughnuts, snacks, and cold drinks. It turns out one of the men, Stomper, was actually a 2024 AT finisher. He had just summited Katahdin a week ago, and his first instinct when he finished was not to just lay up in the bed eating food and watching movies for weeks (ahem, like maybe mine), but to get back out there and start giving back to others still hiking. I was in awe. 

Being out here is a breath of fresh air (literally) from the throes of life that get us down. It makes me believe in people again, and it makes me excited not only to finish the trail, but to become a member of this community in the future. 

That is what this trail truly is: hope.