Sheltowee Shakedown: The Quest for Miguel’s

Tracing the Trace

In December of 2024, my friend Nick and I decided that a long walk was in order. With my AT start date on the horizon, and another stressful semester behind for Nick, a shakedown hike was the perfect excuse to get back on trail together.

Choosing a trail was easy. Being from Cincinnati, Nick and I had developed our backpacking skills on countless trips to the Red River Gorge, and the turtle-shaped blazes of the Sheltowee Trace (Kentucky’s long trail) had always represented a kind of mystery to us. Where might those little white turtles take us? We were excited to finally find out. 

Having limited time, we decided to hike the first 86 miles of the Trace. This section begins at the northern terminus and concludes at Miguel’s Pizza- a culinary staple of the Red River Gorge.

Shakedown Experiments

I tried to make my gear selection for this hike as true to my actual AT loadout as possible. I carried an extra day of food to simulate one of the longer resupply gaps on the AT. I also brought a can of bear spray, an item that I don’t usually hike with in Eastern KY, but am considering bringing on my thru hike.  I carried only one 10000 mAh battery bank, which I challenged myself to ration for the entire five days. These experiments aside, the cold, the rain, and the dreary winter surroundings tested my mettle in ways I didn’t expect – but I am happy with how myself and my equipment performed. 

Day 1: Far from Pizza

On a calm and sunny mid-December morning, I sat on the bumper of my car in the gravel parking lot of Miguel’s pizza, waiting for Nick to arrive. The plan was to leave Nick’s car at Miguel’s while taking my car to the start of the trail. We anticipated that our trek would take five days, including travel to and from the trail, and the time it would take us to consume a pizza at the finish. After Nick arrived, we secured permission to leave his car in the Miguel’s lot, and then we began our drive to the trailhead. 

The trail greeted us with a short climb up to a ridgetop followed by several miles of ridge walking. The midday sun was warm, and the only sound we heard was the crunching of dry leave underfoot in that still December forest. The trail followed a very simple formula for the first few miles. We would descend and turn left, ascend, and turn right. The only thing that changed was the angle of the sun on the horizon. The trail also abutted a private property line which was exceptionally well marked. As dusk set in, we reached some signs of civilization: A few houses, a road, and a gas pipeline.

We walked down a valley, enjoying a hazy sunset as we went, and as the very last light of the day was fading, we came to a rushing stream. In the darkness, it was not immediately apparent how we would cross, and we both groaned at the idea of taking off our shoes to brave the icy waters. Then we noticed a flattened patch of grass, and followed it until we came to a long rope bridge. There would be no wet feet tonight!

Nick inspects the rope bridge before crossing

One of the things we hadn’t put much thought into during our planning was the amount of daylight we would have to work with. Having planned our trip for the week of the shortest day of the year, we were granted only 10-11 hours of daylight each day. Once the first night set in, we realized that our headlamps would be getting a lot of use if we wanted to meet our mileage goals. 

The last two miles of the day were on a logging road. As the full moon rose, we passed some old logging trucks and loaders on the side of the road. We had planned on camping at a campsite near the road, but of course it was already occupied. Who goes camping on a Tuesday in December? With no other sites marked on FarOut, we made do with a recently cleared area a bit further down the trail. 16 miles down. 

Day 2: No Rain, No Pain, No Pizza

We made it out of camp just as the rain began. We were 10 miles from the town of Morehead, and eager to get there. The rain created some areas of fog down in the valleys, which were quite beautiful. The trail was a mix of fire roads and actual trail, which provided some nice variety. Around noon we began our descent off the ridge and ended up on the far end of the Morehead University campus. Coming out of the woods and into a suburban college town was jarring. We followed the little white turtles that had been spray-painted on the ground past the brutalist dorm buildings and athletic fields until we reached the main road through town. 

A picture with the Morehead Spike

We decided to find a spot to eat our lunch. In the center of town, we stopped at a covered outdoor stage, but with the rain now blowing sideways, it was still a pretty unpleasant place to be. Instead, we made a beeline to The Fuzzy Duck, a lovely local coffee shop.

Over coffee, we discussed the weather ahead. Freezing temperatures were predicted over the next few days, and with no way to dry off, we considered getting a motel. We also ran into the husband of the local Sheltowee Trace trail association coordinator, who saw our packs outside the shop and stopped in to greet us. He offered us a shuttle back to the trail if we decided to take a night off, which we greatly appreciated. Nick and I discussed our options for a while, researching drying methods and potential shortcuts. Ultimately, we decided to carry on just as the rain ended outside. Now caffeinated and ready for anything, we left the shop. 

Saved by coffee

On our way out of town we met a few more cool locals, one of whom walked with us for a bit while telling us about his travels to over 80 countries! During this conversation, I slipped and fell in a pile of what was almost certainly dog dookie. I hit a gas station on the way out of town, where I thoroughly cleaned all of my gear, drying it with a blow dryer. Blunder aside, I was still feeling good – but I was definitely ready to leave town. 

After leaving town, we hiked up a valley and back onto a ridgetop fire road. We were blessed with a beautiful sliver of sunset between the clouds – perhaps as an apology for our previous miseries. This ridge had a good view, and we were able to see the lights of the town one last time before the trail turned towards Cave Run Lake. At nearly midnight, we reached the lake’s visitor center, and after a rest, we crossed the giant dam on the lake’s west side. FarOut claimed that there were good campsites near the lake, but all we found was a mucky, thorny swamp. Exhausted, we found a dry-ish spot a little further down and called it a night. 38 miles down. 

Cave Run Lake

Day 3: A Slice of Loneliness

We woke up late, still tired from the previous day. It was a windless, grey day, but there was no chance of rain. The trail around the lake was flat, but the constant turns around little bays made our progress slow. Around 3PM, the trail took us up and away from the lake. Around this time, we were both struck by how we hadn’t run into any other hikers the entire day. We had each other, but the dull winter surroundings, lack of sunlight, and lack of human interaction was starting to get to me. Nick was entirely unbothered by our lack of company and desolate surroundings, which is something I’ve always admired. I popped in an earbud for a while and listened to a few podcasts, and that helped a lot.

As the sun began to set, we reached a deserted campground. On the far side of the campground was a shallow and wide creek. After exploring all of our options for crossing it, we gave up and took off our shoes and socks. The water was FREEZING. On the other side, we sat on a decaying log and hollered as loudly as we could until the feeling came back to our toes. We resolved to call it early that night in order to give ourselves some extra rest. We found a nice campsite and passed out, having now completed 55 miles.

Day 4: Thank God it’s Pie Day

We left camp with new energy, ready to face our last full day on trail. The trail passed a few off-grid cabins and private roads before the trail dropped us onto a state route. We road walked for a few miles, and it started to pour down rain again. At the end of the road, we turned onto the Daniel Boone Backcountry Byway – an off roading trail that circles the Red River Gorge. I had heard about the DBBB before, but had never seen it. It was fun to imagine the powerful vehicles that made the deep tire tracks we were walking in as we went along. Much of the trail was a creek, but we were able to amble along rocky outcroppings on the side to avoid submerging our feet entirely. We stopped for lunch under a rock shelter, and as we ate, the rain turned to snow. 

Cozy lunch spot

After lunch, it was only another 0.5 miles on the DBBB until we reached another major road. This was to be the longest road walk of our trek. The wind was relentless, and the cars and trucks roared past us at an unsettling speed on the wet road. Despite the harsh conditions, we found warmth in the holiday decor on the houses we passed, and peace in the pastures and rolling hills. 

Finally, we made it back into the woods, and we were now only a couple miles from entering the Red River Gorge. The trail took us on a long descent, until we reached a river. Darkness was setting in, and we were about to rock-hop across when we heard voices. There were other hikers here! We stopped and briefly exchanged trip reports with the first humans we had seen outside of a car in the last 72 hours before continuing on our way. Eventually, we recognized that we were on the RRG section of the trail. While we had seen the views before, it was a bit frustrating that the most scenic part of our trek took place during a foggy, moonless night. We made camp off the trail between Indian Staircase and Cloud-Splitter, two of the greatest hikes in the Red. Just 12 miles left.  

Princess Arch in the fog 

Day 5: It was a Pizza Cake

Finally, the day we had been waiting for. The sun was back, and the snow only capped the tops of the hills as we set out on trail. It was a flat and meandering path through The Red, but we were able to keep up a quick pace. We heard voices as we passed Cloud Splitter. We wished we had the time to join them, but of course, there was za’ waiting for us. The only obstacle that stood in our way now was about 12 miles of trail, and the Red River itself…

The Sheltowee Trace suspension bridge was taken out by a storm in 2023 and has yet to be repaired. We knew this during our planning, but overestimated our abilities to cross the river by other means. So at mile 78, we reached the bridge, looked at the rushing river, and then at each other. The hike was over. 

The former bridge

Either we were just lucky, or hitching a ride in The Red is easy, because the first vehicle going in a favorable direction stopped for us when we stuck out our thumbs. We hopped into the back of the red Ram Power Wagon and got to talking to the locals inside as best we could through the rear cab window. They were really nice dudes, and very adamant that we watch Deliverance. They drove us all the way to Miguel’s, which was incredibly generous.  

The ride out of the Red was gorgeous

Nick and I ordered our pies and collapsed in our seats. Miguel’s is usually a hub for climbers, hikers, off-roaders, and all public land users. In the off season it’s kind of quiet, but it’s still a special place. The thing about Miguel’s is that the pizza isn’t the point. The enjoyment comes from the satisfaction of completing the activity that brought you there in the first place.