Tagg Run Campsite 1112.3 to Rte 11 Carlisle 1132.3 (20 miles)
I woke up feeling very good this morning. It was my best night of sleep on the trail. I didn’t wake up one time all night, and it was the first night on trail I could say that. The ibuprofen I took right before bed appeared to have done a wonderful job of helping my feet recover in the night.
Just after 5 am, I decided to take the side trail up to the shelter to use the privy, and because I had heard there was cell service up there.
There was service, and I saw on my weather app that it was going to rain in about 45 minutes, and it could last for a few hours. I decided I didn’t want to pack a wet tent again, so although I intended on having a late start this morning, I made my way back down to pack up.
I packed quickly, racing the rain as the previously clear sky began to darken overhead. I had just about everything packed up, and I was mixing up my breakfast drink, when the rain started to fall.
Two of the other hikers had the same idea as me, and had gotten packed up before the rain as well, but Phoenix was still in her tent. The other woman from last night came over to say hi, and we chatted for a moment.
I found out trail name is Carjack, because she had to break into her own car one time. She is the hiker who started in 2017 on a thru attempt. I would find out later in the day she tried again in 2019 and hiked the Long Trail after an injury, now she was completing the final sections on the AT she hadn’t done yet. I really admired that perseverance.
Her and the other hiker who doesn’t have a trail name yet hiked out ahead of me by a couple minutes, and I hit the trail by about 7:20, umbrella in hand. The trail was wet, cold, and a little rainy, but the terrain started out flat with no rocks, and my feet were feeling much better than the evening before.
There was another sketchy road crossing not too far into the day, and it required a little bit of walking along the road for a minute. It’s crazy how being in the woods for several days makes the cars sound so much louder, and feel kind of nerve-racking when they are going so much faster than walking speed. For perspective, I am usually hiking somewhere in the 2-3 mph range, and these road crossing are 45 mph roads lately.
A little ways up and a couple miles in, I caught up to car jack, the flip-flop hiker with no name, and another hiker who I learned is called Lady Slippers. Car Jack and I leapfrogged each other a couple times up to a stream, and passed a man camping in the woods who didn’t appear to be a backpacker.
I caught up to Lady Slippers at the next road crossing, which was on a bend, and I made my way across before a big semi truck cleared the road. After half a mile I stopped to grab some water, and left both Carjack and Lady Slippers at the little stream.
The day was full of a mini roller coaster type of deal, with five peaks in a row in quick succession, and steep up and downs. I hit the biggest incline after a very muddy, humid, and buggy area. The incline felt really good, it was the type of steep up where it feels like you’re almost doing lunges every step. The trail itself wasn’t too rocky so far, but there were some huge boulders up top of the first peak.
The nice thing was that the area was blazed very well, and even had arrows all throughout the rocks. The trail weaved in and out of the rocks, seemingly designed to be as meandering as possible. At one point I had to use my hands to pull myself up through the rocks for the first time.
Down below that peak there was a nice spring that I stopped at. I had thought since the rocks I had heard the faint sound of trekking poles behind me, and I found out I was correct when a younger male hiker rolled up behind me.
He said his name is Rebbe Mo, which is a combination of the words Rabbi and Molasses, the two trail names that he has had. He made a thru hike attempt starting in GA last year and made it to Pearisburg, VA and this year he picked up where he left off and is intending on finishing what he started. He’s actually from PA originally, hiking through his home state.
We chatted for a few minutes, I told him about my prior hike, and we talked about our different styles of hiking throughout the day, how we came to want to hike the AT, and other things like that. He said he was going to Carlisle that evening and that was starting to look more and more appealing to me as I hadn’t expected to be on the trail so early, and it looked very flat between Boiling Springs and Carlisle.
He said he had heard of me being on the trail, and that was the third person that had said that to me so far. I thought that was kind of nice, and hoped good things were being said.
I left the water source a little before him, and he caught up to me after the up and down of the next peak. I let him pass by and we said we’d probably see each other up the trail later in the day.
I passed by the Alec Kennedy Shelter, not wanting to take the side trail there, feeling like I wanted to do a longer day again. I was feeling way more rested after such a good night of sleep, and the rocks really weren’t too bad so far. The day persisted in staying very cloudy and muggy, with lots of bugs trying to fly in my face.
The sun only peeked out a couple of brief times, and I rode the rest of the Pennsylvania roller coaster up to Centerpoint knob. My feet were starting to hurt by then, and I promised them a little rest. That was nine miles in.
I sat right on the ground, took my shoes off, and mixed my pouch of red Gatorade mix that I had bought yesterday at the Pine Grove store. I guzzled it down, and felt the electrolytes go to work. I needed them right then.
The descent from the last peak was decent, no rocks for the most part, and easy grading. About 2 miles away from Boiling Springs itself, the trail spit me out to several fields of farmland. I walked through them over mostly flat land, very grassy, checking my legs for ticks regularly. It was very exposed, and I was glad that I wasn’t hiking that section the next day when it was going to be 90° and sunny.
I crossed the train tracks into town, and then crossed the bridge over Yellow Breeches Creek. I saw a couple of people fishing there, and I heard a train approach the tracks behind me, and was glad I crossed when I did.
Down by the creek, I saw some very welcome trail magic of water, Gatorade, Pringles, oatmeal cream pies, and more. I helped myself to some sour cream and onion Pringles, an oatmeal creme pie, and a pack of gum, feeling grateful to whoever had left it.
I found myself walking around a large pond from there, and I saw all the baby ducks that LB had posted on Instagram a couple days ago. They sure were adorable, and there were a few people out feeding them.
A couple minutes later, still walking around the pond, I saw significant gray dark clouds forming ahead. I wasn’t surprised as I had saw that in the weather report. I did see there was a tornado warning from 1-2pm and it was 1:30 as the sky darkened and the wind picked up.
I was keeping an eye out for the outfitter, when I saw ahead the ATC center, and recognized the tavern across the road. I hadn’t realized that I had ventured into Boiling Springs before. Again, I hadn’t hiked there last time, but I did this time.
There were several hikers at the ATC center already having taken cover under the awning there. As I rolled up, a section hiker told me I made it just in time and told me good job. I got myself under the awning too, and sure enough it started to pour just a minute after I arrived.
Waiting out the storm, I found some Hershey’s bars and Snickers in the hiker box, and I was assured by the section hikers who were going southbound that the walk to Carlisle was pretty easy.
There was nowhere to tent nearby, so I called ahead to the Quality Inn in Carlisle and was told the hiker rate is $60 with tax and they will shuttle me from the trail head. I knew I was staying in town not long after my last stay, but I was also doing higher miles than I expected so it evened out.
I stopped at the outfitter for KT tape, gathered water from the spigot out back, and visited the gas station real quick with a very nice bathroom, all when the rain had let up and was just sprinkling.
Back at the ATC center, which was closed, I met Easy Going, a man around four years older than me who had thru hiked the whole AT in 2017. This was the friend of Carjack she had told me she was meeting earlier in the day. Easy Going works for the ATC now, and is going to be giving the Colorado Trail at the end of June. When she arrived, I sat and talked with them for a bit, resting my feet.
I got ready to move on, while Carjack was figuring out her lodging for the evening. It seemed there would be a good amount of hikers staying in Boiling Springs that evening, but not many in Carlisle. I wasn’t sure if I had passed Rebbe or not, and I figured he was way ahead of me by then.
I continued back to the trail through town into the woods, around 3 o’clock. I was fine with that, because I didn’t have to make camp later and could take my time getting to Carlisle.
Back in the woods, the trail was very muddy and wet from the rain that had gone through, and the trail followed next to some fields for a little bit. At one point I saw a really cool bird just float through the woods across the trail in front of me and land on a branch. It looked like a goshawk or something, not the usual type that I see back home in CT. It flew away before I could get a picture.
I saw a couple trail runners as I was walking along. The first one ran by me going back towards Boiling Springs. Then I saw him maybe 20 minutes later running in the other direction, and he commented how muddy the trail was. As he ran ahead of me I saw his entire legs were covered in mud he had kicked up. I didn’t look much better.
There seemed to be all sorts of animals out now that the rain had stopped. I saw bunnies, Cardinals, squirrels, chipmunks etc. My favorite purple flowers were strewn all about the trail. It was a really nice area, full of flat easy trail. Perfect thing with my feet tired again from a long day.
I found a stream to soak my feet in, it was the best soak I’d had so far, and I went ahead and removed my liners and changed my socks. It felt a lot better. At one point I realized I had crossed my personal 100 mile marker, and wrote 100 in the mud in the trail. It didn’t look like anything, but I knew it.
I spent some time talking to Frankie, my bird who passed away almost two years ago, and tried to make peace with some things. While I talk to him, I saw six different animals, including two deer, someone’s dog, a cardinal, and bunnies.
I was wishing I had someone to hike with to make the miles go faster, and wouldn’t you know it but Rebbe Mo came hiking up behind me again within the last 2.5 miles or so. He had a long lunch at the cafe in town, so I’d passed him then. We ended up hiking together to Carlisle, and the bonus half mile that we walked to the Quality Inn.
We talked about his deadline of finishing the trail by August 1st ideally, because he is moving to Northern California to go to grad school at Berkeley. We talked about my aspirations to be a freelance writer after the trail, and discussed shoes, packs, all sorts of stuff. It really made the rest of the miles fly by.
The last quarter mile I was eaten alive by mosquitoes having neglected to put on my bug spray all day, then we crossed one more bridge over busy Rte 11. I called the Quality Inn, they said it could be a little bit for a shuttle, but it was only a couple blocks there. So he walked the half mile along the road, to the hotel.
The 10 minutes spent standing at the front desk to check in were agony on my feet. But soon enough, after collecting quarters and detergent for the laundry machine, I made my way to my room.
It was my first time ever on the trail getting my own room. I dropped my pack, went into the bathroom, dropped my clothes and took the top one or two showers of my entire life. The other best shower happened on the trail seven years ago.
I sat in the shower the whole time washing my hair and body, and let the water run as hot as it could go. I thanked my body for getting me another 20 miles to Carlisle, and noticed the way it was feeling the miles and finally telling me to slow down. I was sore in my feet and calves.
I started laundry, and got dinner at the Middlesex Diner next door. Mozzarella sticks and marinated chicken salad. They were closing soon, but I managed to eat almost everything, in a weird place between hiker hunger and not having it yet.
I finished laundry, repacked my pack, shaved down some weight of things I don’t need and can send home in the next town, and stretched and massaged my calves and feet.
It’s going to be hot tomorrow, and I’m going to force myself to take two days to get the 17 miles to Duncannon instead of one day like I was planning. It’s a marathon not a sprint, and I have to give myself some rest. I am proud of my mind and body, but I need to make sure I replenish my energy.