Return to the Appalachian Trail – 10/5/13 & 10/6/13

With a few day trip hikes through Breakneck Ridge and the Appalachian Trail/Nuclear Lake Loop under my belt, I was eager to push my limits and try my hand at a long distance, overnight hike. My goal was simple: spend an entire day hiking, set up camp wherever I get tired, and double back the following day. To my surprise, I spent an untold amount of time trying to find a hike that met my [apparently stringent] criteria:

1. Accessible by train
2. At least 10 miles in length
3. Not crowded

After nearly canceling my trip out of sheer frustration, it finally dawned on me – why not return to the Appalachian Trail? It runs from Maine to Georgia (so it’s definitely long enough), it’s accessible by train (I stopped there for my Nuclear Lake hike), and it isn’t inundated with families (unlike Bear Mountain). It was perfect, all I had to do was get back to Appalachian Trail Train Station and…

…literally walk in the other direction! 

(If you are interested in making the trip yourself, check out my Backpackers Guide to the Appalachian Trail and Ten Mile River Shelter.)

As an added benefit, there are free shelters conveniently located along the trail that allow camping. After some quick googling – and this helpful interactive map of the Appalachian Trail – I identified three viable camping options depending on how far we could hike on the first day:

• Option 1: Wiley Shelter (~6 miles from the train station)
• Option 2: Ten Mile River Shelter (~10 miles from the train station)
• Option 3: Mount Algo Shelter (~18 miles from the train station)

And no, option 3 is sadly not a typo, I legitimately thought I could hike 36 miles in two days.

Quick reference map of shelters along the Appalachian Trail.

My trip began, not with the usual “Escape Me” alarm on my phone, but instead with repeated calls from my friend Johnny – you may remember him from my first camping trip to the Catskills. He wanted to know if we could catch a later train because he was still feeling tired. Ironically, the call itself was enough to wake him up, so after listening to him explain his situation, the whole thing turned out to be an exercise in futility. Sadly, it still doesn’t rank as the most useless phone conversation I’ve ever had.

That title will forever belong to the people over at the Time Warner Cable’s customer service department.

Chuckling at the idiocy of the whole exercise, I rolled out of bed, got dressed and grabbed my newly modified backpack. Being the cheap ass that I am, I have successfully avoided purchasing an actual hiking backpack the entire summer. Instead, I chose to spend the previous night jimmy rigging my old backpack – from high school mind you – to hold my food/supplies, sleeping bag, 2L CamelBak, and tent. Not only was I able to fit everything – I still somehow managed to have space left over!

Words cannot even begin to describe this contraption.

I’ve seen homeless people with a better setup than I had. 

I made my way to Grand Central and met Johnny by the iconic, spherical clock in the center of the main hall before boarding our train to the Appalachian Trail. Unlike my first trip, where I slept the entire way, Johnny and I instead spent the two-hour train ride arguing the merits of the Affordable Care Act. I’ll gloss over the specifics of the conversation for the sake of everyone’s sanity, but suffice to say, we pissed off a few passengers along the way. Not surprisingly – neither side persuaded the other.

I should’ve just taken a nap – at least it would have been somewhat productive.

We arrived at the Appalachian Trail Station around 9:45 am and were off to the races. The hike started out with a tranquil walk through a few open fields. Although it felt odd to go traipsing around someone’s property, it did make for an excellent start to our trip and let us appreciate the sheer expansiveness of the forest that lied ahead.

Interesting little flower, looks like it’s made of ribbons.

Overall, the hike itself was fairly average in difficulty and while there are a few grueling sections, the majority of the trail consists of rolling hills. One of the best parts of the trail is the fact that it’s ridiculously easy to navigate (just follow the white blazes until you hit a shelter), but unfortunately, there are not any particularly good views. So if you have your heart set on a scenic hilltop vista, I suggest you look elsewhere.

*cough* Like a hike to Nuclear Lake *cough* *cough*

As we strolled through the densely packed forest, we could tell that fall was fast approaching. Throughout the hike you could hear leaves falling all around – giving the impression that it was raining on a perfectly cloudless, sunny afternoon.  The entire hike you could simply stop, catch your breath, take in the gorgeous view, and listen to the sound of hundreds of tiny little leaves falling to the ground all around you. It was one of the most serene environments I have ever been in and was easily the best part of the trip.

Train to Appalachian Trail – $30.50

Two-person Tent Rental –  $38.00

Food & Supplies – $24.76

Spending good money to listen to a bunch of leaves fall in a forest – priceless

The trees and the light create a picturesque hike through the Appalachian Trail.

Three hours into the hike we arrived at the Wiley Shelter. Since I had never seen a lean-to, I didn’t really know what to expect, but I was surprised to see that the site was fairly clean and well maintained. The lean-to itself was a simple wooden cabin with three walls and a roof. It’s enough to block the wind and rain for a few people but that’s about it (and it’s really all you need anyway). The site also had a spot for a campfire, privy, and an elevated platform for someone to pitch a tent.

Someone even left behind a small shovel and toilet paper!

The Ritz-Carlton ain’t got nothing on this place. 

The site had some running water – although I wouldn’t recommend drinking it straight from the tap. The well had a sign indicating it was contained with some type of bacteria. Exactly what type I can’t remember (like it even matters), but I doubt anyone would intentionally introduce those little critters into their system. I brought along a few iodine tablets to purify water just in case, but even still, I have reservations about drinking water that is obviously contaminated – even if it is cleaned. Thankfully, I still had plenty of water my pack, so there was no need for a refill.

I live to die another day.

At the shelter we stopped for “lunch” which consisted of dried fruit, trail mix, cliff bars… and whiskey – my compatriot felt it would make things more “exciting.” While I’m an ardent supporter of liquor, in all its inebriating forms, after spending three hours perspiring and hiking, whisky was easily the last thing on my mind. Nevertheless, we finished our lunch and were once again on our way.

Definitely a nice change of pace from the streets of Manhattan.

The hike to Ten Mile River Shelter was relatively easy, save for the last hour which turned out to be a solid 30 minutes hike up – the aptly named – Ten Mile Hill followed by 30 minutes back downhill. The incline wasn’t excessive by any means, but the fact that it was a continuous uphill/downhill climb took its toll on my legs quickly. By the time we made it to the bottom, I had a feeling the next shelter would be our last.

My dreams of hiking 18 miles to the Mt. Algo shelter were shattered.

…I can sense the complete absence of shock on your face…

It doesn’t matter how far you hike, the remanence of civilization are all around…

Overall the Ten Mile River Shelter is a nicer campsite than Wiley. Located next to the Housatonic River, this remarkably tranquil area is a perfect camping spot and the river provides a delightful little soundtrack to your camping experience. The shelter is relatively clean and there is a nearby clearing where hikers are free to set up tents. The only catch is that since the campsite is technically in Connecticut open fires are prohibited (stoves are still fair game though).

Shortly after we arrived, Johnny became adamant about eating his dinner on a rock in the middle of the river because, in his opinion, the view from the side is shit. As he began wading into the river, I sat comfortably along the edge and watch my friend harrowingly navigate through the rapids.

Naturally hoping that he would fall on his ass and get swept away by the river.

I still can’t believe he took his backpack and phone with him.

After a few close calls, he reached his rock and proceeded to heckle me mercilessly for the next 15 minutes. Eventually, peer pressure – and a little spite – got the better of me and I uttered the fateful words, “What’s the worst that could happen?” So I removed my shoes and embarked upon my agonizing journey through the river.

From here on out I only blame myself, the instant I put one foot in the water I knew it was a bad idea. Now I’m no stranger to cold water – I spend the better part of my childhood on various swim teams – but my God was that water icy. Plus, the fact that it was rushing past my legs only served to multiply the effect. I hoped that my feet would eventually just go numb, but after two minutes submerged in the frigid water, I could tell my toes were noticeably pissed at me.

Thank God my feet can’t talk – they would only have terrible things to say about me.

Same goes for my liver.

As I continued my perilous journey through the river, I strategically placed each step, lower my center of gravity, and used my hands – which, like my feet, they weren’t at all thrilled to be in the water either.  Five minutes into my trek I was ready to call it off and turn back, but since I was halfway to my destination, I chose to ignore my body’s obvious cries for help and continued trudging along.

This would have actually been a perfect picture had I not been fussy.

About 3 feet away from my destination, Johnny decided to “help” me by claiming there was a perfect rock right in front of me that would get me out of the water faster. In hindsight, he was actually right about the rock, but thanks to the ripples in the water and the reflection of the sky, his claims were damn near useless to me.

In an attempt to figure out where this rock was, I extended a foot and felt around as best I could. I’m actually rather proud that I was able to balance that long on one leg (without any support from my hands) while I felt around for the rock in question. Unfortunately, while my foot didn’t completely slip, it budged just enough to throw me off balance…

Tim-beeeeeerrrrrr!

Reaching desperately to find anything to grab on to, I realized there was no “Plan B” for me and before I knew it the world went sideways. As I careened off of the rock, the icy water quickly enveloped my entire body and I proceeded to bump along the rocks in some sort of twisted game of pinball.

All while my “friend” laughed hysterically. 

(Who could blame him?)

I eventually got my footing again, but it hardly mattered now that half my body was submerged in the frosty torrent. Shaking uncontrollably from the drop in temperature and shock, I emerged from the water and my friend – finally setting aside his heckling commentary and wiping the tears from his eyes – helped me out.

Because I wasn’t content to just piss off my hands and feet, I felt my entire body should get a piece of the action.

Shivering aside, at least I made it.

As I sat on the rock shivering my ass off, I seriously contemplated spending the night there because there was no way I was going to put one foot back in that water. Sadly such an option was not feasible, and I eventually had to figure out some way to get back to dry land.

What was initially at 10 minute trip out, turned into a 20+ minute return trip. I felt as if I was tightrope walking across a volcano, each step I took was painstakingly scrutinized and if there was even the slightest risk of falling, I changed routes entirely. There wasn’t a chance in hell that I was going back in that water. Thankfully, my patience paid off and I eventually made it back to dry land without incident – but the damage had already been done.

In an effort to conserve weight, I unfortunately did not bring a backup set of clothes; however, the Under Armor I purchased for the trip turned out to be a damn good investment. Even still, with the sun setting and the temperature dropping, drying off was not a simple task. Still shivering, I wrung out my clothes as best I could and proceeded to set up the tent. The instant it was up, I hopped into my sleeping bag, to try and stay warm while I dried out… I could tell the evening was going to be a bumpy ride.

Pun intended – we didn’t bring sleeping mats.

The night was a little rough to say the least, the combination of sleeping directly on the ground, coupled with our close proximity to the river and the fact that we were both still damp made for one hell of a chilly experience. Thanks to my thicker sleeping bag, I was better off than Johnny, and aside from a few kinks in my neck, I managed to get some decent sleep.

So long as I kept my head out of the sleeping bag.

As you can imagine, the combination of BO and river water in confined spaces makes for a rather “delightful” smell.

I can see it now: “Soggy Vagabond –  A new fragrance by Chanel”

The following morning I put on my still-damp socks and newly-damp shoes (it was a bad idea to leave them outside the tent overnight) and proceeded to eat my breakfast along the river. For all of the difficulties we endured – which I’ll admit were the result of our own stupidity – that morning made it all worth it.

Tranquility at its best.

My vantage point along the river that morning is my definition of “serenity” and the picture above hardly does it justice. As I munched away at my breakfast, I watch the fog slowly roll over the yellow and red painted trees, savored the sound of the river, and quietly listened to the leaves falling all around me. The scene was so remarkably beautiful that, for a moment, I actually forgot how unbelievably cold I was.

Given that Johnny and I spent the better part of the last 12+ hours freezing our asses off, we were eager to begin our return trip so we could finally warm up. The first 30 minutes was a solid uphill hike and, while I bitched and complained about it the previous day, I was thrilled to reach the top because I finally stopped shivering.

It’s the small things in life – like avoiding hypothermia – that make you happy.

Overall, the hike back went extremely well and it wasn’t until the very end of the trip that I began to feel the effects. The first day I was able to keep up with Johnny the entire way (which for me was a success in and of itself), but the final descent out of the forest remarkably painful. Where once my steps were brisk and purposeful, I now found myself inching along like a decrepit 90-year-old man and becoming increasingly dependent on my trusty walking stick/cane.

Made it out of the forest!

When we finally made it out of the forest, we were greeted with a magnificent view. The fields where we began our hike glistened under the bright blue sky, which was dotted with playful little clouds. Sadly, the first thought that crossed my mind was, “Wow, it looks just like the stock wallpaper of my old Windows XP computer.” (Please hold your criticism and judgment until the end of the story.) As we took our picture I half expected for Julie Andrews to photobomb one of them as she danced across singing “The Hills are Alive.”

Of course that didn’t stop me from performing my own little rendition.

iPhone fail…well, it was a nice try at least.

While it was an perfect way to end a great trip, there was one last surprise in store for us. After making our way through the fields, we arrive back at the Appalachian Trail Station an hour and forty-five minutes ahead of the next train. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but even still, I had no idea what the hell we were going to do to pass the time. Johnny and I had spend the previous 24+ hours in each other’s company, so we were all out of conversation topics.

Less we rekindled the healthcare debate.

Although in that case, I’d just walk to back to Manhattan.

After about 50 takes, Johnny eventually got his Karate shot.

Just as we came to accept our fate for the next two hours, we heard one of the most magical noises off in the distance… a train horn. I don’t really know how it was possible (the MTA train schedule showed only two trains that stopped at the station), but I couldn’t have cared less – we somehow we managed to arrive at the train station literally 30 seconds before the 3:00pm train.

What a beautiful sight!

After making the transfer at the Southeast Station, Johnny and I passed out the instant we took our seats. It’s sad when your seat on the train is more comfortable that the campsite you just spend the night in. After arriving back at Grand Central, we parted ways because Johnny still had it in him to bike seven or so miles back home to Brooklyn – I was content to take the subway and sit my ass down with the rest of the peasants.

Someone please tell me where the hell I put the aspirin!

This is happiness.