Peters Mountain Shelter 1160.9 to Yellow Springs Campsite 1174.3 (13.42 miles, 148.92 total miles)
After I set up my tent last night and crawled in, it took a while to fall asleep. My adrenaline was going from doing the night hike, but more than that my feet were absolutely throbbing. Where I set up my tent there was an incline, and I set it up so that my feet would be elevated which is supposed to help. However, they were just killing me. I took some Advil but it still took a while to fall asleep.
The next morning, I was planning on hitting the trail for 8 AM, but instead I found myself walking back over to the shelter after I packed up. I had saw Trouble there briefly first thing and male hiker but I didn’t know who else had been there last night. They were all gone by the time I went back around 8:30.
All my hiking socks were wet, and so were my shoes. I knew I had to take off early if I was going to do the 18 miles to the next shelter and not have to do more night hiking, but I really didn’t want to be hiking with wet shoes and socks.
The shelter was so nice, the biggest one I had seen yet, two floors and lots of room. I decided I was going to take a zero day, and started laying all my stuff out to dry. I spent some time doing a meditation, and moving my stuff around as the sun hit various spots in front of the shelter. It was a beautiful day, finally it had cooled off and it was perfect weather. I set up my sleeping pad and quilt, put on my base layers, my fleece, and my puffy.
I also started eating my way through my food bag, just to lighten it up and because I felt like I needed sustenance after last night. After a couple hours, the hiker without a trail name from the last shelter came up to take a little break and have a snack. I told him about my night hike, and about the porcupine I had saw. He showed me a couple pictures of some orange turtles he had seen yesterday, and the baby ducks from Boiling Springs. He had caught them taking a nap under the momma duck.
He was going to be hitting one of the tent sites that were up ahead, before the shelter. I hung around for another half an hour and saw that my stuff was dry. It was such a nice day, and I was feeling a lot better by that point. So I decided I was going to go ahead and take advantage of this perfect hiking weather and do the 10 miles to one of the nice tent sites that I saw ahead. That way I could do a nero instead of a zero, and take advantage of such nice weather.
The first 6.7 miles to the first water source were pretty good, some nice flat easy train, and just a few rocky sections as well.
It was on one of these rocky sections that I saw my first rattlesnake ever on the trail. I was on a rocky ridge, and I heard a little rustling of leaves next to me, and I looked over and saw a decent sized snake coiled up under a rock. It just watched me, not moving.
I took a couple pictures, and I tried to see if I could spot a rattle, and sure enough I was able to. I thought it was pretty cool, but I was glad it seemed to not mind me and gave it a wide berth as I walked by.
It was a steep descent down to the first water source, but had some nice switchbacks and easy walking down along the ridge, which I’ve noticed that Pennsylvania has a good amount of.
At this point, I had done the 6.7 in exactly 3 hours. I had it in my head that if I hiked until the sun set, I could still make it the 18 miles to the next shelter. I was making good time.
After drinking and filtering about two liters of water, I crossed the road. On the other side, I saw a gravel parking lot that looked eerily familiar to me. There was a big flowing creek, and I saw equally familiar looking tent sites across the water.
I won’t get into it here, but something rather traumatic happened at that site six years ago. It was a beautiful place to tent, but it kind of gave me the creeps being back there, so I moved on quickly. I can’t guarantee it’s the exact same spot, but I think I would bet money on it. I hadn’t been expecting at all to see it, I didn’t even remember where it was, I think I’d kind of blocked it out.
As I was walking up the ridge, I realized that Frankie had been there too at those campsites and parking lot. Not when I hiked, but the following year we spend traveling back and forth to the trail doing hiker support. It was the first place on trail I had hit on this hike that Frankie had been. It made my heart hurt a little that it hadn’t been a better memory, and that it was so unexpected.
The climb up from the road was a super steep two mile incline. For some reason it hit me hard, no longer fresh in the day. It also decided to get extremely rocky the whole rest of the way, the other PA standard. Small and medium rocks everywhere.
To pass the time, I started counting my steps. I started a little way in, in fact, and I made it to 3,500(!) before the trail started to even out. I’ve done way more difficult climbs, but this one got me for some reason.
Rebbe Mo appeared grinding up the incline when I was just about to the top. He said hi but didn’t stop to chat, I could tell he was trying to catch up miles from slowing down with his friends the last day or two. I’m not sure if he stayed in Duncannon last night or not, but my feeling is he probably did and was pushing to do the 28 miles from there to the next shelter that I was aiming for.
But I had slowed way down by that point, and was behind schedule of where I wanted to be. The terrain wasn’t supporting my goal of getting to the shelter. I struggled hard over the next few miles, the rocks just didn’t end. I found that was what was really killing my feet, those rocks, and I was in pain again the last few miles.
I stopped and took a couple Tylenol Eric (no trail name guy) had been nice enough to give me earlier in the day and guzzled a caffeine drink. I even decided to break my “no media” rule, and put the Chamber of Secrets audiobook on. I had been listening to it in my head all day, but that wasn’t cutting it anymore.
Still, I only made it another couple miles from there. I saw Yellow Springs campsite was .3 up ahead, and knew that was about all I had left in me, without destroying my feet or having to night hike again. It was 6:30 by that point.
I loaded up all my bottles with water from a stream, came across two whitetail deer that scampered off, and saw Red Squirrel as I was almost at the campsite. He said he was camped there too, and had done 20 that day from the first shelter after Duncannon.
I set up camp, and finished the pepperoni and cheddar I’d been carrying for a week in my bag with a couple tortillas. It wasn’t my first choice for dinner, but I did want to finish it off and get it out of my pack.
Red Squirrel and I were on opposite sides of the large campsite, both content to do our own thing for the evening. It had been a beautiful day weather wise, and I had done a few more miles than originally intended. I didn’t make it to the shelter, but I didn’t bully myself into it, either, so that was a good thing. I’m glad I didn’t take a zero, and I guess all I needed was the morale boost of dry socks to get me going.