US Rte 11 1132.3 to Cove Mountain Shelter 1145.9 (13.6 miles)
It was a rough morning this morning. I didn’t go to bed until about 11:30 last night, there was just so much to do between laundry, dishes, packing my bag again, etc. I set my alarm for 7:30, but even with dark curtains I still woke up just after 5 AM. Seemed my body didn’t remember how to sleep in.
So I waited till breakfast was open at about 6:30, and Rebbe Mo was already there when I arrived. I had a couple packets of oatmeal, a yogurt, some coffee, and grabbed an orange to pack out for later.
Back in the room, I was still sore and tired, but I was no longer hungry so I was able to take a nap. I slept for another half hour or so, even with all the lights on and the curtains open. I was just so tired.
Then I had a second breakfast of more yogurt and a huge English muffin with butter. I dried my shoes with the blow dryer in the bathroom and did a final pack up and checked out.
It was pretty late, 9:40am when I started on the half mile back down the road to the trail. Rebbe Mo would be hiking out even later than me to meet some friends and hike with them for the day. I left late so I didn’t feel tempted to hike too many miles. I needed a shorter day, so I was planning on 13.5 to Cove Mountain Shelter.
The weather was looking brutally hot and over 90 degrees for the day. It started off with more hiking through fields for a couple miles. It was only in the 70s still but totally exposed and felt much hotter.
I was right in the middle of Cumberland Valley, and there were only two real water sources the entire day to access, since most of it was drainage from the fields.
The trail was low in elevation for the first five miles to the first real water source, and it was muddy, humid, and extremely buggy. I hiked with sunglasses on and my buff covering my ears, but they were everywhere. The back of my neck got eaten alive first thing.
Conodoguinet Creek looked more like a river, and I hiked along both sides of that for a bit when the trail made a u-turn along it. I saw people getting kayaks out and swimming in the creek near the ATC farm but I kept moving, not too enthused about that water from what I’d been reading and hearing.
I came across a familiar looking pair of hikers I’d seen at Tumbling Run Shelters briefly, I found out their names are Tigger and Babbit. They seem to be hiking sections SOBO but I’m not positive, we didn’t get to chat much as there were too many mosquitos out for blood. Tigger told me to check out Bessie Coleman, another famous female aviator.
There were two little dead baby opossums on the trail ahead, which was kind of sad and strange to see right on the trail. I saw a few day hikers around as I finally got into the woods for real.
It was a steep climb up to the water source, but my legs felt decent, though my feet were hurting again already. I saw Trillium up at the water source and asked if she had Advil. She graciously spared me a couple. Trillium is an older woman thru hiker on a 25 mile day between Boiling Springs and Duncannon to catch up to her hiking partner, Easy.
I drank a liter and a half of water at Wolf Trail Spring, cameling up for the five miles without another water source. I was intending to hit the Darlington Shelter for lunch, but I ended up stopping at the view a half mile closer than the shelter to eat.
I saw another hiker sitting, a woman maybe in her late thirties or early forties if I had to guess, named Trouble. I had seen her very briefly at the motel that morning at breakfast. She was another regular 25 mile a day hiker.
Trouble and I sat and talked and ate for about an hour or so, on a bench that was made of stones at the view. I aired my feet and massaged them, noting how swollen they were, especially my toes. It’s not trail legs for me, it’s needing trail feet.
Trouble is from Georgia, not far from Springer. She works at Chik-Fil-A, where they granted her a leave of absence to hike. Her husband passed almost five years ago, and she was planning on finishing around the anniversary. She sold her house to pay for her hike, and likes to night hike alone to make miles outside of the heat. Trouble is a total badass.
After eating a bag of beef jerky, a tortilla, a cliff bar, and a half melted snickers I felt good enough to hike again. The next few miles downhill were not too bad at first, but by the time I reached the spring my feet were toast again. Wouldn’t you know it but there were also a bunch more hot, exposed fields that plenty of snakes and ticks could be hiding in before the spring.
I soaked them for a good 20 minutes in the water, massaged them and cameled up again. This time I carried 2.5 liters with me, because I knew the water at the shelter, already off trail, was going to be another far walk. It was an extra 6 lbs on my back, but it would save me time and effort later.
I took the steep ascent right after the water at a snail’s pace. I had taken my time making the miles today, and I knew that I would be getting into camp kind of late for the miles I was doing, around 6:30 at that point. Still, it was light till 8:30 so I just told myself to take my time.
Good thing too, because after the very slow mile, were two miles of incredibly annoying rocks to traverse along the ridge to the shelter. The end of the day is not when I wanted to be hitting those rocks, when I was already tired and knew I’d have to be extra slow and cautious, and my feet would hurt worse from them.
I stopped one more time near the last view to drink an electrolyte drink I’d mixed down by the water and eat a coconut almond butter cliff bar I had bought at the outfitter in Boiling Springs. I told myself again it was worth taking my time.
The day was still just as hot and humid and buggy as before. There was no relief all day from it. According to the news at the motel, it was the hottest day in this area since last August. I was careful to stay hydrated, but it wasn’t fun.
Again, I thought about the day I’d be having if I wasn’t on trail, and decided I was more than fine with this option.
I didn’t see anyone else till the shelter, a steep downhill that felt like at least .2 off the trail. Everything was on a slope, and I didn’t see any good tent sites I liked, though I did see people set up here and there.
Mostly local overnighters I found out later. I was figuring on a pretty empty shelter, since it seemed most people were going into Duncannon I had seen today. I’d heard one of the hostels there is quite good, but I had just stayed over last night, I didn’t want to pay to stay somewhere else again.
There were a couple women hanging at the picnic table while I made couscous and salmon with olive oil for dinner. They were both doing overnights, one of them planning on hiking the VA section of the AT this summer, and doing a quick shakedown close to home.
They gave me a couple Dude Wipes to wipe down my face, legs, and arms, and as many homemade healthy cookies as I wanted. I scarfed down three, they were quite good.
The company was nice, and I wasn’t sure if Rebbe Mo was still coming to the shelter for the evening with his friends or not. I hadn’t seen him since breakfast, but figured he was having a rough day, hitting everything in the dead heat of the day.
There were carpenter bees flying around the shelter outside wall and roof but I decided to stay in the shelter for the second time so far. There was no one staying in it, and it had four wooden bunks. The bees would go to bed when it got dark, too, and the ground was just not pleasant for tenting.
For the first time in a few days I don’t feel completely drained of energy. Today was more mental than physical, and I still had a little in the tank. I was glad I had made myself stop at Cove Mountain instead of pushing another 4.5 miles to Duncannon.
It has been a tough day not only because of the 90+ degree weather, but also because of the particular section I traversed during that heat. Low elevation, muddy, every bug in the world, sparse water, no good places to really soak my feet or even swim. The one place I soaked my feet was a tiny spring with a steep muddy slope to get to the water.
Still, it was another 13.6 miles toward my goal, and a good opportunity to practice moderation in my mileage. I feel like I listened to my body. I don’t want to take zero days (no miles) this trip really, because I’ve read the body appreciates consistency more. Plus zero days can be a drain on finances, and make it harder to get back on the trail. I know from the first time around. In moderation, zeros can be beneficial, I’m just going to try to do neros (near zeros) instead when I need.
Thru hiking is life changing, and incredible. It can also be exhausting and extremely difficult. It is not an easy thing to attempt, and not letting days like this get to my mental outlook will be key to attain my goal.
A couple people asked me, why didn’t I just section hike the parts I hadn’t done last time instead of doing a thru and re-hiking a bunch.
Honestly, that idea didn’t even occur to me for a second. Many people do the whole trail in sections, and that takes a totally different type of perseverance and dedication, and is harder in some ways.
I love thru hiking, though. Even when it sucks, I love it and it’s in my blood, that’s the only way I can explain it. Or my soul, maybe. The sheer adventure of it, the risk involved, how all-encompassing it is. A pilgrimage, an epic journey. How it’s literally writing a story to me.
I also wouldn’t want to skip my favorite parts of the trail. The White Mountains, southern Virginia, the Long Trail section in Vermont. It would be a logistical nightmare to me, and just not the experience I need right now.
The good the bad, the tough, that is what makes it what it is. Even when thru hiking is amazing, it’s rarely ever glamorous. Now, how about those trail feet?