Pennsylvania (June 20-29)

June 20.

Robin and I woke up at 0500 amid the snores in the dark bunkroom of the Ironmasters Hostel.  We turned on our headlights, quickly gathered our things and moved out to the front entrance area.  We packed up, hoisted our packs and headed out into the dawn over Pine Grove Furnace State Park.  It was pretty to walk along the wide gravel path past the Iron Furnace and then Fuller Lake, mist rising from the water’s surface.

Robin and I hiked up to Pole Steeple and took in the views- a standard landscape of forested mountains from rocky outcroppings.  We had a goal for the rest of the day: hike 27 miles to our final destination in a cool hotel room.  We were approaching a 14 mile stretch of flat path through farm fields in the Boiling Springs area, a challenging stretch because it offered little to no camping or water refill options.  Many hikers chose to camp at a campsite in Boiling Springs prior to starting the 14 mile stretch, but the campsite was so close to train tracks, hikers claimed that their tents shook all night as the engines passed.  We were going to hike to a highway that cut through the farmland stretch and stay in a hotel room there, to break the section up.

It was a pleasure getting to know Robin better.  She had all the best qualities of a courteous hiker, sensitive about who was leading, so that we switched throughout the day, and a great conversationalist.  She was quick to ask questions after talking for a while about herself.  I hadn’t met many other female hikers on the hike, and it was refreshing to share our experiences and talk about what it meant to be out here, of independence and capability as well as kindness and intention.  She is the age that I was when I first thru hiked the AT, and reminded me a lot of myself both then and now.

We hiked together and talked all day.  We easily hiked several miles between breaks, hiking from Pole Steeple to a general store, then several miles to a lunch spot, then onward to the town of Boiling Springs.

We neared Boiling Springs and began the flat section of farm field hiking.  The first miles through the crops offered completely open, unshaded hiking through farmland.  We sweated under the sun.  Robin was ever positive and said brightly that she loved seeing these Pennsylvania views.

We reached Boiling Springs mid-afternoon, walking by a noisy public swimming pool, then by the Children’s Lake.  Per Robin’s plan, we walked to a nearby gas station and bought a few cold drinks apiece.  It was heaven to sit by the lake in a breeze and drink cold liquids and stop sweating for a few minutes.  We watched gaggles of geese and a few ducks waddle on land and glide in the water.

After a lengthy break we hiked the final 8 miles to Route 11.  The next miles of trail were mostly within a small shady corridor between farm fields, thankfully.  We hiked on and on, finally reaching the bridge over Route 11 and cutting down to the highway, then hiking a final 0.5 mile to the Quality Inn.  The room felt wonderful when we turned on the AC.  A diner stood nearby.  The temptations were nearly equal between staying in the cool room and eating a real dinner, but in the end we went to the diner for dinner.

It was good to hike a full day with a friend, put in a long day of big miles, and enjoy the breaks throughout the day.

June 21.

Robin and I left the cool hotel and hiked out into a pretty morning, passing by a field with a patch of Black-eyed Susans and purple wildflowers.  The day heated up quickly.  We took a break under a single tree in a field.  I thought, I wish there were more trees.  Robin said, “Look at this gift of a tree.  Thank you, tree!!”  I laughed and enjoyed the positivity.

The afternoon was stifling.  We hiked over increasingly rocky ground and through waves of heat to the river town of Duncannon.  Robin took a break and I kept hiking, descending into the town after stopping at the big view at Hawk Rock.  

At the first gas station, I took off my pack and walked into the blessed air conditioned space for a cold drink and break.  The place was clearly accustomed to weary hikers: a map of the AT hung above a small booth in the back of the store.  

After taking several hours to rest in town, resupply on food and say goodbye to Robin, who was going to spend the next several days with family, I walked through the town of Duncannon, across the Clark’s Ferry Bridge and the Susquehanna River, and up the hot switchbacks of Peter’s Mountain.  Temps were up to the high 90s, and I dripped with sweat. 

It was a good feeling to reach camp that night.  I called home and talked with Mom and Dad that evening along the trail, away from the sleeping hikers at the campsite.  A hiker walked by me in the dark, around 9:30pm.

Hikers have been employing all kinds of strategies to beat the heat lately- some starting their day in the wee hours of the morning, others hiking late into the night, some taking an afternoon siesta and doing both.  Others point out that the cooler nighttime temps might be more comfortable for hiking, but they are also more comfortable for sleeping.  I agree most with that mindset.

June 22.

It was very humid overnight.  I slept with my tent fly off, but there was little breeze.

The trail continued on a rocky ridgeline above the Susquehanna River and the farm valleys below.  I could smell the river from up on the open ridge, even though it was a distance away.  

I stopped at a shelter for a snack break, and caught up with Smiles, a friend I hadn’t seen since North Carolina.  It was nice to hike with someone through the thick heat of that day.

After miles of hiking, we took a break at a spring and a group of hikers caught up to us.  An overall weariness hung over everyone as we sweated and sat in our damp clothes.  I was thinking that it was an afternoon nap kind of day.  

Suddenly one of the hikers announced that a hiker had texted him that there was trail magic down at the road 0.3 miles further up the trail.  Everyone’s spirits lifted.  We all hiked down to that road, and enjoyed an ice cooler filled with drinks and sandwiches.

We sat on the edge of the unassuming gravel parking lot there, reviving.  Some leaned against their packs to nap, some chatted, some looked at their guide books to assess the climbs ahead.  I spent over an hour there, enjoying the company, the creek rushing below, and the shade from the pines above.

The trail angels who had left the coolers drove up to visit with hikers.  They laughed easily and asked us questions about where we were from and how our hikes had been going.  They seemed to get a kick out of hikers, and enjoyed that there was a group of us there that day.  

We stayed long enough that I got hungry again and had another sandwich.  Smiles and I split another Gatorade before thanking the trail angels and waving “see you later” to the other hikers.

We hiked up a final climb that was hot and long, over 1000 feet, and dripped sweat.  The afternoon was a mix of blessings and challenges.  After the climb, the elevation eased, with a flat or descending grade.  On the other hand, we were plagued by gnats swarming around our faces.  They often seem most lively in times of high humidity and little breeze.  The trail was a tunnel through dense thickets of mountain laurel, with little air movement.  

Thunder rumbled and the sky darkened, and for once I hoped for rain, to drive the gnats away.  But, the warnings were without result- no rain fell on that afternoon.

I reached my camp site in the evening, and crawled into my tent shortly after setting it up.  It was a relief to get away from the gnats and mosquitoes, which I heard whining around the tent throughout the night.  I was thankful to have a fully functional mesh shelter to keep the blood suckers away.

June 24.  

This day was glorious, with cooler weather and breezes.  I felt so much more lively and cleaner than when I dripped sweat every time I started hiking.  

I started hiking by 0630.  I hiked by hemlocks, witch hazel, large areas of tall ferns in the understory, and many rocky areas, including rocky boulder field lookouts on the valley below.  

Though the hiking was easier, I could feel that my body and mind were worn out.  I hiked to Route 183 and requested a ride into the town of Hamburg, where I’d rest a while.

June 26.

Back on trail this day, I appreciated the morning’s cooler, breezier weather.  The trail continued to pass by large areas of tall fern undergrowth- pretty scenery.  I was relieved also that the pesky gnats were few to none.

As I neared Port Clinton, a hiker caught up to me.  We chatted as we slipped our way down loose scree to the town.  It was a piece of trail that could use some trail maintenance, as it had eroded into a steep scree slide.   

I walked through the town of Port Clinton to a resident’s outdoor spigot, available to hikers as stated on the hiker app.  “You look like you need water”, came from a friendly maintenance man as I approached, wilting under the hot afternoon sun.

The trail continued by the Schuylkill River among brushy Japanese knotweed, under the route 61 bridge, replete with graffiti, some of it AT- themed, and up a steep climb to some easier ridgeline walking.  

Another familiar hiker, Trashman, caught up to me in the afternoon.  We hiked under sunny skies for a while, then watched and listened as a thunderstorm approached.  Our pace quickened and we laughed in anticipation as the heavens darkened, a breeze blew in, and the temperature dropped.

I covered my backpack with my rain cover, but there was no point in putting on a raincoat when already soaked with sweat.  The wind intensified and rain approached.  There is nothing quite like that steady sound of rain coming through a forest, as if many small feet were advancing.  Rain soon poured down on us, drenching everything.  We laughed about the free hiker shower which we were being given.

There wasn’t much point in stopping to set up a tent while the rain fell.  We bided our time and kept walking, passing by a few sites and hoping that there would be another site ahead.  Within an hour, the rain subsided and we found a good campsite for the evening.  The timing was perfect.

June 28.

Trashman and I started packing up around 0530 on this day, hoping to reach a notorious open climb out of Lehigh Valley before the hottest part of the day.  The climb up out of Lehigh Valley sticks out to hikers (some hate it, some appreciate it) because it contains several boulder scrambles on an open mountainside.

It was fun to revisit this mountain.  I find it a neat climb, requiring maneuvering of pack and body up, over and around the boulders.

June 29.

Hikers often refer to the state of PA as Rocksylvania, and it’s especially apt in this northern section, from Lehigh Valley to Delaware Water Gap.  My feet found a lot of toe stubbers on this day.  

We reached Delaware Water Gap by the afternoon.  I was ready for an evening of rest at a local hostel.

Pennsylvania: a section of humidity, pesky insects and rocks, but also, long flat sections, an optimistic friend, the surprise of trail magic on a hot day, and two hikers enjoying the gift of a thunderstorm.