When we got out of the car and said goodbye to my brother, the two of us were giddy. Living in Philadelphia without a car doesn’t really lend itself to frequent hiking trips, so a 3 day, 2 night trip on a snowy AT is heaven. After we laughed off last spring’s navigation error that led us 500 feet uphill in the wrong direction, we headed south, destination: Tom’s Run shelter.

We started our hike about 12 miles away, just north of the James Fry (a.k.a. Tagg Run) shelter and were greeted with a little more snow than my underprepared feet were expecting. My trail runners did the job well enough, but my feet were soggy icicles. At least the bridges were all well maintained.

After climbing in elevation for a mile or so, we meandered along a ridge and were treated to a beautiful illusion. A picture doesn’t do it justice, but the thick bank of clouds rising up looked like a snow-covered mountain.

By this point the rest of the world might as well not exist. We had hit a groove and the only sounds were creaking trees, soft wind, and crunching snow. I guess the birds took Saturday off.

Don’t miss Woodsy Owl Weekend!

We decided Pine Grove Furnace was a great place for lunch, especially since all of their benches were dry and free of snow. We picked the first one we saw and were treated to a view across the glittering pond.

We stopped outside the AT Museum to see the symbolic halfway point of the trail.

Caber pulls a face

Me, squintin in the sun. Come on you Foxes!

We knew we were close to camp for the day, so we put our heads down and dragged our full bellies a few more miles.

Caber doing the patent-pending trudge™ up a hill

After an hour or two’s trudge through the snow, we made it to Tom’s Run. No fire would be had tonight, so we took to our bags for a nap.

We missed our friend, Hand-me-down, but took solace in the fact that he had warm, dry feet. Lucky him. Once it got dark, Caber and I settled down for sleep and continued a growing tradition of listening to and singing trail songs. You can’t beat Marty Robbins’ Gunfighter Ballads.

They call me a drifter, they say I’m no good

I´ll never amount to a thing

Well I may be a drifter and I may be no good

There’s joy in this song that I sing.

Day 2 began and we were glad to be back on the trail. Waking up in the woods never gets old, especially when you have coffee to warm you up. With 15 or so miles ahead of us, the trudge was on.

Caber and his Rangers Glasgow scarf. “I’m not so f*cking silly, I’m no Billy, I’m a Tim (thank f*ck!)”

We saw about a dozen signs warning us about prescribed burns for forest renewal and soon saw the burned forest. Strange to see charred black trees against the white snow.

Not too far along we passed the official midway point of the AT for 2018. It would be a dream come true to pass this sign on my way to Katahdin.

We stopped at Birch Run Shelter for lunch, just under halfway done our day. I was stunned at how nice the shelter was, and the 8 bunks inside looked so inviting. I’d always heard Quarry Gap couldn’t be beat, so after another tuna wrap and protein bar, we were off again.

A little fresh water for the road

Even though the slush/snow/ice mix was mildly annoying, there really wasn’t an inch of trail I didn’t love.

Crunch, crunch, slosh, crunch…

We could hear the power lines crackle away as we walked underneath

When I finally saw the roof of Quarry Gap, I couldn’t help but let out a relieved whoop and drop my pack. After a few minutes of gathering firewood, Caber caught up and we sat around letting our feet dry. A while later, two more hikers joined us for the night at the shelter. Paul and his son Ambrose made the drive from the Jersey shore to Caledonia State Park, where we left our car on Saturday. They picked this spot last minute after being snowed out of the Pennsylvania Grand Canyon and were amazed by Quarry Gap. It was certainly amazing.

Stop and smell the hanging baskets

A nice PA Dutch touch

Swing the pain away

Majestic Quarry Gap, complete with a swing, a checkers set, and the all important bible

Even though I dispute the accuracy, 16.9 miles in one day made us feel a little proud.

Once we got a fire going (after using all of our fire starter), we hung our socks up to dry and graciously warmed our toes. Except for the raccoon that wandered into the shelter, it was another peaceful night spent in the best accommodations the trail has to offer. More trail songs? Of course! Ola Belle Reed, sing us to sleep.

High on a mountain, O wind blowing free

Thinking about the days that used to be

High on a mountain, standing all alone

Wondering where the years of my life have flown

The next morning, we took our time getting on the trail. We were back at the car in under an hour, retracing our mistaken steps from last March. Going downhill was much, much more forgiving. Once we were at Caledonia, we were relieved to be done and ready to go back as soon as possible.

After getting in the car and putting on dry socks, only one more thing was on our list: go have breakfast at Timber’s of Fayetteville, the best food on earth for a hiker. One poster on the wall said: “Trail Magic Happens Here!”. Hell yeah.

“Trail Mix”: 2 eggs, bacon, sausage, ham, home fries, topped with sausage gravy….

After this trip, only one man could sum up my thoughts.

“If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.”

J.R.R. Tolkien

We got back in the car and started the drive home, another 28 miles behind us (depending on whose counting), I could only hope we’d be back soon.

We’ll be back soon, AT. Stay beautiful.

-autobahn

P.s. Follow our trail songs playlist on Spotify! You won’t be disappointed.

Trail Songs