Dan and Hannah hike the Appalachian Trail to the Ed Garvey Shelter in Maryland

From our Comfort Inn in Frederick, MD, we drive West on Route 340 to exit 17 following signs to Gathland State Park.  It’s no more than 14 miles and a piece o’ cake in a rental car.  Driving the winding country roads of the Maryland countryside the first week of November, we know that there aren’t more beautiful bucolic settings in all the United States.  Together Hannah and I have warm mid60s weather, no deadlines, and an adventure that we know not what we’ll find.  Freedom of the open road is a cliché, but it’s what I was hoping to purchase when I retired.  I get that and more today. 

Today we’ll hike south toward Weverton Cliffs (April 10, 2011 blog covered hiking north to Weverton Cliffs in MD) where we hiked just a year ago.  Driving up the Gapland Road from Burkittsville, we come upon a 40 foot stone arch dedicated to the war correspondents of the Civil War in truly the middle of nowhere.  And Nowhere, Maryland is just where we want to be today.  No traffic and no list of things we have to do.     

With no one in sight, we cross the road and find a welcome passage to the AT.  

Today we are in for unexpected treat - ridge hiking.  We’ll have a mostly level terrain across the mountain top, where the trail is wide enough for Hannah and me to maintain a steady pace as we walk side by side.  Today I introduce pledging for the coming year at First Parish Church in York for the first topic of the day.  First the big questions.  What is truly being generous?   Giving what you have?  Tithing?  Giving til it hurts?   What do we really need?  How careful to do we have to be with our money since we may live into our nineties?  No two ways about it, the bottom line is I’ve been blessed.  Hannah being a lottery pick set everything in motion for much of my success. (If you feel this way about your partner/spouse/steady, go to http://www.artistdirect.com/video/it-s-your-song/47671 for Garth Brooks singing It’s Your Song.)  Choose the right spouse and good things follow.  But I digress as I am want to do.  Let’s talk about generosity and giving when we next meet. 

Side by side on dried brown leaves we have hit pay dirt on this sun-dappled day.  From time to time branches with green leaves up and down block our path, but it’s easy to walk around them to get to the very obviously marked trail.  

We hear geese squawking south and feel few rocks beneath our feet hidden by the dried leaves.  In seventy minutes we arrive at the turn to the Ed Garvey Shelter after 3.7 miles of ridge line hiking.   

The shelter is a two story building of wooden floors with a loft above that is reached by a back exit.  Climbing the stairs to the loft we find a pristine room; the broom hints at why.  

Lunching at the picnic table on our obsequious Subway subs, we scan the valley below through a thicket of saplings.  

The raised privy lies to our south while benches on three sides face the campfire.  

Each shelter has a log for hikers to record their impressions of the trail. 

The latest entry is October 29^th from a couple hiking during the snowstorm just a few days ago.

The firewood we collected was damp (even with flammable toothpaste) however we discovered skin-on-skin is a wonderful way to stay warm. 

-      LaChelle and Tim

From October 4^th 

I was here 4 months ago.  It was naked hiking day (editor’s note - June 21^st) and hot.  How I miss the trail. 

-      Yinz

Hannah adds to the log.

  Dan and Hannah from York, ME – ½ day hike to and from Gathland State Park.  What a beauty-full spot and shelter.  Thank you Potomac Appalachian Trail Club.  And here’s to Ed. Garvey.   2-Ply (Hannah)* and Flag** (Dan)   [These are current trail names.  Mine is a work-in-progress.]

Today the hike is the best.  Good company, warm temperatures, a trail wide enough to walk and talk side by side with occasional rise and falls of elevation.  Much of my glow is about the freedom it represents.  Tomorrow we head for home.  We are blessed with this hiking escape.  As always when hiking, know thyself, thy limits, and the conditions.  Be prepared.

*This is between you and Hannah.  hannahrothermel@gmail.com

**Flag is short for Flagstaff.  Flagstaff, Arizona is often the jumping off point for our western hikes.  After living in Arizona for ten years, Hannah and I try to get a “fix” of the West each year.  A friend suggests "Traveling Man."   I'll wear that one for awhile and see how it fits.

Dan and Hannah hike the Appalachian Trail to Loudoun Heights near Harpers Ferry, WV

After a freak October snowstorm in the Northeast, comforting temperatures in the 60s return this day to the tri-state area (VA, WV, & MD) for your favorite hikers from Maine, or so we’d like to think.  Driving to the headquarters of the Appalachian Trail Conference in Harper’s Ferry, WV, we chit chat with Claire who welcomes us and describes the trail, then we descend through Storer College towards the mighty Shenandoah River to begin our hike along the West Virginia/Virginia border. 

Within ten minutes as we cross the Shenandoah River on the Route 340 Bridge, we are rudely met by the unsettling and squealing sounds of cars and trucks roaring by at 60+ miles per hour.  Protected by a concrete barrier, we safely navigate across, slip under the bridge, and head into the sweet relief of the autumnal forest.  

Dressed in shorts and long sleeve tee shirts on this first day of November, we trod alone on fallen leaves which cover the trail.  That’s the good news.  The bad news is that since the trail is covered with leaves, we are hyper-vigilant in watching for the white blazes of the Appalachian Trail so we do not get lost.  This adds uncertainty and a mild dose of apprehension to our hike.   That’s not a good thing.

As we climb to Loudon Heights above the Shenandoah River, fallen branches, fully leafed, and trunks of 6-8 inches in diameter obstruct our path.   Though we are not exactly bushwhacking, our pace is slow as we step over, around, and under branches that are covering our trail.   The terrain is rocky and displeasing to our feet.  That’s two strikes (the previously mentioned uncertainty and rocky terrain) against this becoming the coveted Dan and Hannah’s Trail-of-the-Month.     

Spotting App Man (trail name) with full pack and trekking sticks, we learn he’s a section hiker who has been out on the trail for a month.  (A section hiker tackles the AT in sections often taking one to six weeks at a time to eventually complete the AT over a number of years.)  Finishing up today at Harper’s Ferry, he has that gleam in his eye that suggests that he smells the barn (He has no idea what that expression means when we use it.  For those who don’t live in the Northeast it means “sensing one is almost home.”)   I ask him, Why do you do it?   He loves the outdoors, it helps him get his priorities straight, and allows him to detach from the world for a while.      

Why would I do such a hike?  Outdoors?  Sure, but there’s more to it.  Get my priorities straight?  I pretty much know mine; I just need to follow through on them.  So Danny Boy, what is it?   It’s what it’s always been – the social, the connection, being with others, learning their stories and sharing mine.   I’d rather a busy trail than one of solitude.  

For the first two miles of the hike we have been climbing, the next mile and half takes us along the ridge line.  It’s close to three strikes and you are out for this trail as Hannah and I hike on through forests without definition or panoramic views.  We are usually not such whiners.  We about face at an hour and thirty minutes and head back to the trailhead. 

On our descent we spot a scruffy hiker, hidden behind a tree and smoking.  We don’t stop and interact at all.  I’m not proud of this, but I ignore him other than a brief “Hi,” when usually I’m Mr. Congeniality.  Perhaps I am most comfortable with middle class hikers like myself?  Today I’m leery, cautious, and hesitant.  At this point, there’s no courage within; being in unfamiliar territory in the South and having seen the disturbing movie Deliverance in my youth, I keep on trucking.

With the hike nearly in the books, we cross back over the Shenandoah River bridge with its disconcerting traffic, chalking this hike up to one more notch on our hiking-the-AT-belt and three hours of good exercise together.  App Man arrives at the ATC headquarters after us; they take his picture out front and provide him with apple champagne in a goblet for hiking half the AT.  We toast his accomplishment, thinking we’re glad it’s him and not us.

No need to run to hike this trail, but as always when hiking; know thyself, thy limits, and the conditions.  Be prepared.

Dan and Hannah Deal with Unusual October Snow in Shenandoah National Park in Virginia

Escaping Washington (I know that sounds like a harsh gerund. [I wish that sounded less pretentious!]) via Route 66 West to hike the Appalachian Trail in the Shenandoahs, Hannah and I see 16 miles of stop-and-go traffic heading to Washington going in the other direction.  Not once do we see an accident or any construction.  Later we learn that’s what passes for normal during the morning commute.  Country mice beware.

As a one-time true believer in GPSs, I now realize their limitations and the need to have a Rand McNally atlas close at hand when driving in unfamiliar territory.  In tandem, these two take us out Route 211 through Warrenton to Sperryville, a rural community at the base of the Shenandoah Mountains where there are just traces of snow.  Blissfully, we take hairpin turns, climbing to the park entrance at Thornton Gap; as we drive up the mountain, it becomes quite obvious that more snow has fallen here than at lower elevations.  Arriving at the park entrance, we see the sad face of the ranger, which tells it all.  The park is closed; Skyline Drive is closed.  Saying we have come all the way from Maine to hike won’t cut any mustard today.  She tells us that ten inches of heavy wet snow has caused trees and limbs to fall on the roads; in addition none of the buildings has power.

Bummed, we head over the mountain west to Luray, a rural town, known for its nearby caverns (http://luraycaverns.com/).   There, walking into town, I ask an elderly woman how much snow fell.  That she tells me four inches is not nearly as interesting as my wondering about myself and my unconscious stereotyping of her.  I’m thinking “Fox Republican” because of her strong southern accent and that she lives in Virginia.  I catch myself almost immediately, as traveling across the country gives me time to reflect more and likely to judge less.  As Malcolm Forbes says, Education’s purpose is to replace an empty mind with an open one.   My education on the road helps open mine, I like to think.

Resigned to an afternoon hanging out in Winchester, VA (a city rated top ten for retirement living by AARP and captured and recaptured 72 times during the Civil War [Thank you, Ken Burns]), I remember from last year’s trip to the Shenandoahs that at the north entrance to the national park we can park before the entrance gate and hike the Dickey Ridge trail.  Used by the locals from Front Royal, VA for hiking when wanting to get away for an hour or two, it is in good shape, I learn from a man I approach.  He is most proud of losing 130 pounds since March, regularly hiking this trail.

In 46 degrees we hit the leafy trail with an inch of snow or so to our right and left.  Crews with axes and chainsaws are already out removing the trunks of small trees from the trail and cutting up leafy limbs to clear a path for us hikers.   Wet with fallen leaves and a trickling brook to our left, the trail is not muddy and is easy on the feet.  Dickey Ridge is a steady climb, but gentle and satisfying.   

An hour into our hike, we wipe the snow off a fallen log and have our go-to lunch on the trail, Subway subs.  Refueled, we have only one bottle of water between us since we thought we would have been able to get water at the ranger station prior to our hike at Thornton Gap.  Alas, on this cool, partly cloudy day, fresh fallen snow is our reserve water supply.

The trail parallels the road to the top of Dickey Ridge.  We love this trail.  Why?   1. It’s easy to follow and clearly marked.  2.  It’s a workout but not insanely steep or precipitous.  3. There are no rocks to climb over.  4.  The trail is mostly dirt and easy on the feet, unlike the AT in much of New England.

After four miles of hiking the trail is covered with 3-4 inches of snow now; slogging through it is like hiking in sand.  We about face and sail down the mountain knowing how fortunate we are to have hiked at all, so soon after the weekend snow storm.  Today, we luck out and make something out of nothing.  As always when hiking, know thyself, thy limits, and the conditions.  Be prepared.

PS.  Ever think you have what it takes to be a leader, whether in your job, career, and life?  We learned the following from a mayor from the heartland (Nebraska!) that we met in Virginia with our friends Steve and Amelia.   The mayor rightfully believes her time is valuable and wants to really serve her constituents.  Ergo, she has her administrative assistant tell citizens when they call with a complaint or a problem that the mayor has 15 minutes for them.  She wants the citizen to be prepared with three things for their meeting:   1. The complaint or problem.  2. A possible solution.  (And this is the gem)  3. How that person is going to be a part of the solution!  Many people say they will call back later and never do.

Pretty cool, huh?  

Dan and Hannah Travel South to Virginia to Hike and Explore

This week’s blog is brief since Hannah and I just returned Thursday from a week south of the Mason-Dixon Line (http://geography.about.com/od/politialgeography/a/masondixon.htm)                 visiting our daughter Molly and her husband-of-four-months Tip.   Alas, we were not idle and come back with tales of our travels. 

One was inspired by a true American hero of ours;

A second began when we were turned away at the entrance of Shenandoah National Park because ten inches of fallen snow, trees and limbs across the roads, and buildings without power due to last weekend’s surprise October storm in the Northeast;

And a third has become our favorite hiking section of the Appalachian Trail. 

Those stories will follow in the weeks ahead, but I offer you pictures from my phone/camera to tease you.