Like many people I've read Bill Bryson's 'Walk in the Woods' and wanted to see at least some of the AT while I'm here, so with my plans for Vegas scrapped and a week's leave already planned I figured it would be a great chance and a totally different experience.
With no transport here in the US the only way to join the trail was at Harpers Ferry in West Virginia and the only train arrived late in the afternoon. Determined not to be put off I booked my ticket and read up a little about where I would be heading. Coming from a country where there is no natural wildlife which can kill you and the landscape is generally benign, I became increasingly concerned with the sheer volume of dangers out there; deer-ticks, spiders, snakes, bears, water contaminants, poisonous plants, the weather, the terrain, oh and of course, as my workmates delighted to remind me with quotes from Deliverance: the hillbillies. All the fear faded away though when I arrived at HF to a gloriously sunny afternoon and the magnificent views out over the Potomac.
Day 1. Hitting the Trail
Figuring I'd arrive with a couple of hours of daylight left I'd planned out my first day and while not wanting to push myself too hard I didn't want to end up sleeping in a hotel or on the side of the road. So straight off the train I hit the trail and spotting my first AT trail blaze within minutes I started to feel that I had become a true hiker again. With Harpers Ferry rapidly falling away behind me I was enjoying the trail along the banks of the Potomac when the path took a turn to the north into the woods that I'd been expecting.
What looked like a short hike on the map, with contour lines I'd casually ignored, rapidly turned into a rude awakening and a reminder of how long it has been since I hiked any great distance. Rising 800 feet in about half a mile I was scrambling up a slope that zigzagged up the shear side of a cliff and rapidly becoming aware of the weight of my pack and every foolish ounce of weight I'd thrown in thinking it wouldn't matter as I'd only be on the trail for a few days.
I almost stopped at the first flat space I came to, as the light was beginning to fade, but I'm so glad I pushed on to the top of the slope and through to Waverton Cliff as it meant I was able to spend my first night on the trail with a wonderful view back the way I'd come with a small camp fire in a prepared fire pit.
Day 2. Hill Walking
Waking up feeling fresh and ready for my first full day on the trail I was eating breakfast at 6am and packed up and on my feet by 7am. I planned a brief morning amble along to the Ed Garvey shelter for a chance to get some water and see my first AT shelter - I was planning to hit Rock Run that evening and wanted to see what the shelters on this stretch of the trail were like so I knew what I had in store.
I have to tip my hat to the PATC (Potomac Appalachian Trail Club) the volunteer organisation that takes care of the trail and shelters along the section I was hiking. The cabins I saw were really well maintained, clean and wonderful. Mixing enough shelter to keep you safe, with enough comfort to be a welcome stop, yet without loosing the sense that you were in the great outdoors and roughing it.
I reached the shelter fairly early to find a couple still making breakfast and not wanting to interrupt I set off to get water. The walk down from the shelter to get water from the tiny creek was quite long and steep, but I was eager to use my new purifying pump (an eagerness I would loose very quickly) so by the time I got back I was sweating, thirsty and keen to sit down for a while.
The couple were still around and with DarDar keen to introduce himself the ice quickly broke and we started talking. The guy - 'GoSnatyBo', the girl - 'TinyMcSmallFry' and their exuberant and friendly dog 'DarDar' (for those of you wondering these are trail names - just one of the oddities of people who like to walk for fun) lived in the area and were out on a short hike. They both knew the trail here really well, providing advice on where to stop and what amenities were available along the trail. GoSnatyBo had hiked the whole trail a few of years before and it was interesting to hear some of his stories, in addition they were kind enough to share somores with me before I headed off along the trail.
Its a weird thing hiking through the woods alone and I found over the course of my few days that my mind wandered from the mundane to the prosaic. At times I was focused on the next 50 yards, the next trail blaze, the dull pain in my shoulders, the warm ache in my calves, head down and just plodding forwards. Other times my head came up and I would see through the woods to the surrounding countryside, not views you would write an epic poem about, but arresting none the less, take a deep breath and stride forwards with pains that felt a little less acute and somehow more worth while.
Just occasionally though I would hit automatic, my body just carrying me forwards regardless of the aches, the terrain or any other considerations and my mind would wander. I'd think about how I'd come to be here, all the decisions and choices, both good and bad, that led me to here and now. I can't say I had any great flashes of revelation, I didn't "find myself", I'm not returning with some sagely "trail wisdom" and I'm not going to change my life, but it was nice to have be away from all the usual noise that makes me feel like I'm constantly busy without the time to think.
The trail took me through woods scattered with broken rock and though I was never more than a mile or two from a road the elevation and the trees all around make you feel as though there is nothing for miles. I made Crampton Gap by lunch and though I'd enjoyed the downhill hike into the gap I knew it meant a hard hike back up to the ridge the trail followed north. I found it strange that the noise of the cars zipping through was annoying me and I wanted to get back on the trail asap so I didn't stop for long.
I was surprised with how many people were out hiking given that I'd missed the time when people would be crossing the halfway point north or south, but I saw people every few hours heading back the way I'd come. I always stopped for a quick chat if the chance arose as it gave me the opportunity to take of the pack, which by this point was chaffing on my collar bones. Some of the folks I met were out for a few days, others just for the day, most were keen to hear what was ahead and share news of what I had facing me. Its odd for someone from London (and even Washington) to consider every person you see worth stopping to talk to rather than a moving obstacle to be avoided.
I figured the afternoon would provide a good walk before arriving at the shelter, but unfortunately the map I had was not detailed enough to reveal that after a first sharp slope out of the gap the ridge just kept moving upwards so that all afternoon I was climbing. As if that wasn't enough the sun was doing its best through the trees to slow roast me, the weight of my pack seemed to get heavier every 50 yards and I was sweating what felt like buckets of water, so that it was an enormous relief when I reached the top of Lambs Knoll and the trail turned downhill.
This was when I learned that tired legs struggle to prevent you falling face first down a slope. It was therefore with quite some relief when I finally reached the newly built Ricky Run shelter.
Pumping clean water had lost almost all of its mystery for me, but I'd almost run out getting here and I wasn't quite ready to risk drinking straight from the creek as some of the folks I'd met said they did. Dumping my pack at the shelter I walked down to the creek - this time a flat, gentle stroll and I was amazed at the joy I felt to be walking weight free.
Feeling mildly refreshed after a quick wash and a long drink of cool water I headed back to the shelter to find Rick just arriving. We fell into conversation almost immediately, sharing why we were out doing this and what we'd experienced so far. It was great to hold a conversation for more than a few minutes after a day spent pretty much by myself; we shared complaints about the weight of our kit, opinions about the trail, plans for the days ahead and just general chit chat.
Rick was traveling south with Crazy Horse - a 5 time through hiker who decided to camp away from the shelter, but he seemed to be in a bad mood that evening so we left him alone. Also joining us by later that evening were a couple who'd met each other hiking north through to Harper's Ferry earlier in the year and though they'd had to leave the trail they were back covering as much more as they could before winter hit.
Day 3. Mount the Monument
I woke up early again the next day feeling oddly refreshed and energized, wishing an also awake Rick good luck with his travels I headed back onto the trail.
I'd been walking for about three quarters of an hour when I started to hear noise in the trees to my left. Paying it no attention I kept walking, but the noise seemed to follow me for about ten minutes and was getting closer, and despite looking I still couldn't see what was making it. Then the noise got louder and I could clearly hear something large moving quickly through the woods towards me. Both my imagination and my panic went into overdrive and I was suddenly trying to make a decision whether to run toward to the road I knew was somewhere ahead, or back to the shelter. So when the deer stepped out onto the trail I felt more than a little foolish.
After a few minutes to calm down I set off again and came upon Dahlgren Campground, this was a godsend: free hot showers and flushing toilets. Taking the opportunity to wash off two days of hiking dirt and a fear induced cold sweat. I left the campground feeling in a much better mood.
I had plans to be back in DC for the weekend and to spend some time in Harpers Ferry the next day so I knew I was not going to be able to hike much further north on this trip. I planned the day out to reach the Washington Monument (not that one) hang out there for the middle of the day - I'd been informed there was an ice cold soda machine there and I'd been looking forward to since I'd heard about it the night before - then come back down to campground for the evening.
I reached the Washington Monument State Park just after 1pm. It hadn't really registered with me before that this was the area where the American Civil War had started and that it had seen a great deal of conflict. The displays notices, memorials and the remains of buildings, and they are liberally scattered along the trail in the area, had just seemed interesting background, but the realisation crystallised while I was in the small museum in the park seeing pictures of some of the soldiers who fought.
They too had walked these hills carrying heavy packs, unlike me they hadn't been here on holiday, I suspect some of them hadn't chosen to be here willingly and they might have had to fight for their lives at any moment. The views from the top of the monument, an old lookout post rebuilt as a monument looked very different with this new perspective. While I could still see the beautiful landscape, the valleys and the distant hills, I was also imagining what it might have felt like to watch that same place looking for signs of enemy soldiers.
I sat and spoke with John who worked at the park as well as being a re-enactor and speaker on the civil war through the early afternoon just passing the time and enjoying the sunshine. All I had to do now was re-trace my steps so I was in no hurry.
Day 4. Getting back to Harpers Ferry
I woke up the next morning feeling tired but content. I knew today would be a tough day as I wanted to get back to Harpers Ferry as soon as possible and see a little of the town. Figuring to hitch-hike back I started to walk along the roads, a totally different experience after a couple of days on foot. Everything seemed to move too fast and rather than my usually casual road crossings I was scanning carefully before stepping off every curb. It took two kind souls to get me back to HF. The first a guy in his mid thirties in delivery van who had the biggest mustache/sideburns I've ever seen and an old man who I could barely understand and whose name I unfortunately can't remember in a pick up with his dog Chappy and elderly border collie who seemed determined to lick my face.
My thanks to both for getting me close enough that an hour or so walk got me back into Harpers Ferry before lunch. Arriving back in Harpers Ferry I came across the bridge I'd left from three days before it seemed strange to have returned so swiftly. I was pondering what to do with myself for the rest of the day and started talking with Georgette and Valerie who helped me re-join civilisation over a beer and lunch - my thanks to both these lovely ladies for taking pity on a bewildered Englishman.
After dropping my pack at the motel where I would be spending the night I walked back into Harpers Ferry via the ATC (Appalachian Trail Conservancy) and Jefferson Rock and spent the afternoon pottering around the Civil War museums and displays.
At the ATC I picked up a few mementos and chatted to the staff who where wonderfully informative and enthusiastic and who took the picture you see at the top of this blog. Jefferson Rock is impressive and while the views are wonderful but having made the journey I'm not sure I'd agree with Thomas Jefferson who said "this scene is worth a voyage across the Atlantic". That said I definitely want to come back to leave footprints on a few more miles of the trail and if I can somehow find four months of free time maybe I'll start in Georgia in the spring...
All the pictures from my hike can be found here.
