Harriman State Park to Manchester, VT 2004

Starting point: Arden Valley Rd, near route 17, Harriman State Park

Maps of route: Harriman State Park | New York and Connecticut | Massachusetts | Elevation profile

Date Campsite Mileage feet climbed

Sat. 7/10 West Mt. Shelter 13.4 2121

Sun 7/11 Graymoor Friary (campsite) 12.5 1731

Mon 7/12 RPH Shelter 18.9 1682

Tues 7/13 Telephone Pioneers shelter 16.6 1604

Wed 7/14 Mt. Algo shelter 21.4 2095

Thurs 7/15 Pine Swamp Brook shelter 17.3 2510

Fri 7/16 Riga Shelter 20.2 2693

Sat 7/17 Tom Leonard Shelter 24.1 3718

Sun 7/18 Upper Goose Pond Cabin 21.6 2080

Mon 7/19 Kay Wood Shelter 17.6 1535

Tues 7/20 Mt. Greylock hostel 20.0 3371

Wed 7/21 Congdon Shelter 20.4 3040

Thurs 7/22 Kid Gore Shelter 18.7 3093

Fri 7/23 Stratton Pond Shelter 15.1 1641

Sat 7/24 Route 30 10.4 235

This was my first backpacking trip of longer than 5 days. I had done several 4-5 day trips in the Rockies before we were married. I was nervous about how the trip would go, because of my aborted trip the previous summer and several recent trips during which I had been sick on the second day of the hike. But I wanted to give it a shot anyway. Tatiana drove me up to the Elk Pen parking area near route 17, were we had started the backpacking trip earlier that summer. We had not yet moved to Greenbelt, so it was a relatively short drive of about 3 hours. I carried a week’s worth of food in my pack, and had sent a box of food to the post office in Falls Village, CT. I started off on a rather warm, sunny morning, hiking through Harriman State Park. Within a few hours I passed through a spot known as the “Lemon Squeezer”, because the trail narrows to less than 2 feet between two large rocks. I had to maneuver my pack and hoist myself a bit to get through. The harder part was actually a high rock wall that follows the narrow spot. The terrain was quite interesting – lots of grassy undergrowth and rock outcroppings, with very gently sloping terrain. The forests appeared a bit scraggly; there were mostly oak trees, I think but they were not very large trees. I wonder if the soil is poor, but I am not sure. Around midday I stopped at the Fingerboard Shelter, and then by mid-afternoon was at the William Brian Shelter. There was no water at this shelter, and some folks were already settling down for the day. The only option for water was to walk downhill on a side trail to a developed park area on Tiorati Circle. I continued on, soon crossing the Palisades Parkway. A short distance up the Parkway was a visitor center, where I had purchased an Appalachian Trail bandana a few years earlier, while traveling to Rensselaer for the summer. Although the idea of getting a cold drink for the vending machine was appealing, I continued on. Soon after I crossed a swiftly running stream, which I knew was the closest water source to the shelter where I intended to stay. I drank a large quantity of water, filled up my containers, and pressed on to the West Mountain Shelter. The shelter is on a side trail, and opens up to a grand view of the Hudson River. One other long-distance hiker was in the shelter. He had hiked from the George Washington Bridge on the Long Path, a trail that runs north through the Catskills and Albany. He was planning to take the AT north to Gorham, NH. I did not see him again after that night – I assume he was traveling slower than I was. There was also a small group of kids and a counselor from a camp. They hung around the shelter in the evening, but slept in tents at night. Elevation map of day 1

Sun 7/11 Graymoor Friary (campsite) 12.5 Elevation profile

The next morning dawned with similar warm and sunny weather. I returned to the AT on the side trail, then followed a rugged section downhill to a road crossing and back up a steep section to the top of Bear Mountain . The trail was badly eroded from years of use by “weekend warriors” from New York City, and is currently (in 2007) being completely relocated and rebuilt. On top there stands a tall stone tower, which was open for viewing. Restroom facilities normally serve as a water source, but the water had been turned off because of some sort of contamination issue. I was desperately thirsty by now, so I purchased a cold coke from a vending machine. A park employee assured me that I could get water at the bottom of the mountain. On the way down I met many hikers heading up, including someone pushing a bike. Not sure what he was thinking. Below Bear Mountain the trail passes through a developed park area that feels like an urban park, with an artificial lake, landscaped walkways, picnic tables, and grills. It was Sunday afternoon, and many people were picnicking. It was a strange feeling to walk through with a pack. I was indeed able to refill on water, and I proceeded through a tunnel under a busy road, past a public pool, and into the park zoo. The zoo charges admission but permits backpackers to pass through for free, since the official route of the trail is through the zoo. I stopped to observe a few of the animals, but did not spend a lot of time. The zoo is also marked by a statue of Walt Whitman, which is inscribed with his poem “Song of the open road”:

Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.

This area has the lowest elevation on the entire trail at 124 feet above sea level. After emerging from the zoo, I crossed the Hudson River on the Bear Mountain Bridge. The bridge is an impressive edifice, a suspension bridge anchored at the eastern end into a cliff face. As you cross, it looks as though the road simply dead-ends in the cliff. In reality the road splits and follows the cliff face in both directions. The trail follows the north face for a short distance, and then climbs steeply into the woods. A few miles later, I came upon the road to Graymoor Friary. Graymoor is a catholic organization, which hosts the headquarters for its order as well as a home for troubled men. The Friary provides free tenting for hikers in an open field. There was also a cold-water shower and a pavilion. When I arrived there was a soccer game going on, and a number of hikers were hanging around the pavilion. The Friary also provides free dinner, and at 6:00 we trekked up to the large building and found our way to the expansive dining room on the 4^th floor. The place felt empty and forlorn – only a few priests were eating dinner, and the corridors looked as if they had not been remodeled in decades. But I was grateful for the spaghetti and meatballs. After eating I called Tatiana to check in. She was at an overnight retreat for the Chrysalis weekend she was planning to take part in later in the summer. I slept well in my tent next to the soccer field.

Mon 7/12 RPH Shelter 18.9 Elevation profile

When I awoke the next morning I had a slight headache and did not feel great. I was worried that I was getting sick again, but I was determined to counteract the symptoms as best I could, and press on when able. I drank a lot of water, and headed off into the woods. The hike was a struggle, but I did not really feel any worse as I went on. I stopped for a break at a stream around mid-day, and encountered two southbound hikers who were “slackpacking” for the day – they were in the midst of a long-distance hike with full packs, but had found someone to shuttle them for the day and were hiking with light day packs. They spoke some encouraging words, and as I continued to hike I felt considerably better. The trail passed through Fahnestock State Park, and as I came up to a rocky overlook of a lake, it began to lightly rain. I continued hiking in the rain to eventually arrive at the RPH Shelter. I was feeling quite happy with the situation. I had fought off illness, and in the process had hiked my longest ever day with a backpack. The shelter was unusual. It was a 4-sided structure with concrete walls and floor, equipped with bunk beds. There was a covered porch with chairs, which was a nice place to hang out in the rain – which continued the rest of the night. A trail crew had recently spend several days at the shelter, and had left some extra food and drinks behind for hikers to finish. I was joined by several through-hikers who had been at Graymoor and who I would continue to see for a few days. There were two middle-aged guys, one called Hobbes and another named Stretch. Hobbes was from Iowa. There were also two young guys – one named Cotton (because he did not have any synthetic clothes when he started the hike) and another named Leki-less (I did not get a story on his name, but I imagine he must have lost his hiking poles at some point).

Tues 7/13 Telephone Pioneers shelter 16.6 Elevation profile

The rain lingered when I awoke the next day, but it stopped soon after I started hiking. The trail wound its way through deep woods. Early on, I crossed the Taconic Parkway, and later I-84. There were a few viewpoints, and I passed a lake where people sometimes swim. It’s called “nuclear lake”, because of a rumor that the lake was contaminated with radioactivity – a notion proved false by extensive testing. The trail in this section of New York is rugged, but does not change overall elevation much – there are many short climbs where the hiker loses or gains maybe 20-30 feet of elevation over a rocky section. Other than that, I don’t remember much from this section. At one of the road crossings it was possible to hike a short distance to a mobile hot dog stand of some sort, and my fellow hikers all stopped for lunch. I had plenty of food, and had not developed cravings for “real food” after only a few days on the trail, so I pressed on and was the first to arrive at the shelter. The shelter was of traditional wooden design, and there was a faint view through the trees – there would have been a good view in the winter. The water source was poor, a barely flowing stream of suspect quality.

Wed 7/14 Mt. Algo shelter 21.4 map of the Connecticut route | Elevation profile

As I started down the trail beyond the Telephone Pioneers Shelter, I was low on water. The poor water source left me looking for an alternative. Fortunately, I knew from the guidebook about another source. A mile or so down the trail there was a house near a road crossing where a homeowner sympathetic to hikers provides water. I filled up at the outdoor faucet and continued down the trail. Nearby was the Dover Oak, the largest oak tree (and perhaps the largest tree of any sort) near the trail. It is quite a large specimen, with a spreading crown typical of trees that grow in the open. A couple of miles further on the trail crossed a railroad line with an actual Appalachian Trail stop. A hiker can board the train here and head to New York City. It is actually possible to reach US 17 in Harriman State Park, where I started the previous Saturday, by train as well – but that requires walking a mile or two from the station. Back in the woods, the trail passed through the Pawling Nature Preserve, which consists of protected forestland owned and managed by the Nature Conservancy. After ascending to a ridge, and crossed and re-crossed the Connecticut border several times. Near one of the crossings I met a “ridgerunner” – a guy who was employed by the Appalachian Mountain Club (which manages this section of trail) to keep an eye on things. The ridgerunners hike back and forth along their assigned section, talking with other hikers, educating them about Leave No Trace principles, and monitoring trail conditions. While we were talking he noticed an unusual object in the bushes, and upon investigation it turned out to be a geocache. Someone had placed the plastic box full of random objects there near the trail, and posted the GPS coordinates on the Internet. Other hikers/explorers who found the cache would leave another object in the box. I took a break along 10 mile River, which was a rather substantial stream that runs into the Housatonic River. The 10-mile was crossed via a wooden hiker bridge. I had planned to stop for the day at a campsite along the next wooded ridge, but when I arrived I decided I still had enough energy to make it to the next shelter. I had worked out that if I could do a couple of longer days I would make it beyond Stratton Mountain, Vermont by the end of my allotted 2 weeks, and I was motivated to make it that far because I had hiked Stratton previously – it was fun to think of doing it again. I made it to the Mt. Algo Shelter and stopped there for the night.

Thurs 7/15 Pine Swamp Brook shelter 17.3 Elevation profile

Towards the last few miles of the previous day I had noticed that my boots were rubbing in a spot near my toes. I had purchased these Vasque boots as a replacement for another pair that was wearing out. I selected exactly the same size and model as the previous pair, which fit very well, without trying them on. I had been hiking in the new boots several years, and had noticed that they were slightly larger than the others. That difference was now causing big problems. My feet were really sore and bleeding a bit. I knew from the trail guide that the town of Kent, just a short distance off the trail at the next road crossing, had an outfitter – so I decided to see if I could replace the boots. I arrived in town before 8:00am, and the outfitter was not open yet. I called Tatiana and let her know what was going on, and walked around town a bit to wait. Kent is an interesting small town, but not your typical friendly trail town. It is occupied by fancy boutique stores selling overpriced clothing and serving things like scones and tea. At the edge of town is a prestigious prep school called the Kent School. The outfitter was a nice place though, and I was able to find a replacement pair of hiking shoes. I decided to try out low hikers with no ankle support, which are very popular on the trail because of the weight savings. The Merrell shoes I chose had an excellent sole (and in fact the sole is still in good shape after hundreds of miles, while the upper has broken down a bit). I hastened back up to the trail, pressing on so that I would not get behind schedule. The trail through Connecticut is quite varied. It follows ridge tops for a while, and then drops down for several long stretches to parallel the Housatonic River. This made for fairly easy hiking. One of the ridges had a view from St. John’s Ledges, and nearby I saw some rock climbers. Around midday I crossed a rushing, boulder filled stream where several hikers were swimming. I considered doing the same, but wanted to wait until the end of the day because I figured I would just get sweaty right away. [I have since decided that the best policy is to swim whenever possible. Often by the time you reach camp the weather has turned cool, or there is no good place to wash off the sweat and dirt]. After a final steep climb, I reached Pine Swamp Brook shelter. True to its name, this shelter was near a swampy area with questionable water. I set up my tent to avoid the mosquitoes, which several other hikers were doing as well.

Fri 7/16 Riga Shelter 20.2 Elevation profile

I started out with some nervousness the next day, know that I needed to re-supply. Obtaining the next round of supplies is not complicated, but I was a bit concerned simply because it was something I had not done. The terrain was similar to the previous day, with stretches of wooded ridgeline (interspersed with occasional views such as this one at Rand’s View) complimented by level walking along the river. Towards the end of one of these level stretches, the trail passes through a stand of red pine. The trail here is so easy that it is designated as accessible to the disabled. After exiting the woods the trail crosses a grassy area near a power plant, then an iron bridge over the river , just downstream from a 20-30 foot waterfall. After reaching the falls, I consulted the map and realized I had missed the turnoff to the post office in Falls Village. I had to retrace my steps for perhaps a half mile to reach town. Falls Village is a quintessential New England town, which historic houses and shops. There is not much to the town, but fortunately the post office was open and I retrieved my food. The rest of the day proved to be rather challenging, hiking in hot weather and with a heavy pack. After passing near the road to Salisbury, the trail abruptly ascended the most significant climb I had attempted in the previous week. The climb culminated at a viewpoint called Lions Head, which is a rocky outcropping on the southern tip of a rocky ridgeline that extends for 16 miles into Massachusetts. The view from Lions Head, seen here, was quite good. Shortly after reaching the view I came to the Riga Shelter, where I would spend the night. This section of trail is probably the most popular in southern New England. There were several shelters and campsites nearby, and lots of people camped at each. Only four people occupied the Riga shelter itself. Two were camp counselors for a group that was staying in tents. The other guy was an old-school hiker who was raving about the fact that he had managed to get his pack weight down from 80 pounds to 70. He also did not seem to understand backcountry cell phone etiquette (one hiking guide suggests using a cell phone only in places were you would also use the bathroom) and proceeded to make a call, from the shelter, to arrange a blind date with someone he had been set up with. It was quite an evening, but I enjoyed the view from the shelter, which looked down on the valley below and ridges in the distances to the east (see picture below).

Sat 7/17 Tom Leonard Shelter 24.1 Elevation profile

I started the morning with this great view from the shelter. Shelters with a view are relatively uncommon along the trail, so this was a real treat. The day ahead turned out to be the toughest of the trip. I started by clambering over the remaining 15 miles of rocky trail on the ridge running into Massachusetts. The trail climbed over Bear Mountain, the highest mountain entirely within the state of Connecticut (one can find a higher elevation on a trail ascending another mountain whose peak is in Massachusetts on the next ridge west). There was a large pile of rocks with a view on top. The scramble down from the peak resembled some of the tough climbs in New Hampshire. The trail proceeded through beautiful Sages Ravine, where a swift-running stream paralleled the trail through deep woods, then ascended to glacier-scarred Race Mountain. The final high point was Mount Everett, where an old fire tower was reduced to concrete supports. From there the trail followed the ridge to Jug End, the northern parallel to Lions Head, where a view of the Berkshires unfolded to the north. I felt like I was dropping off the end of the earth as I descended steeply from Jug End, eventually reaching a parking area near a gravel road. Many day hikers were out, enjoying a warm weekend day. I had hoped to find water at a spring, but it was dry. The next several miles proved to be hot and dry, as I hiked over swampy land with no good water source. I was completely out of water and getting a little worried when I reached US route 7 near Great Barrington. A garden center was located just down the road, and I walked over to see if I could get water. I was obviously not the first hiker to asked, as a distracted employee pointed out several jugs of water on the floor. I gladly drank up and refilled my bottles, then continued on. I still had to hike over 5 miles to reach the Tom Leonard shelter (pictured here). The woods were warm and swarming with mosquitoes. Rarely have I encountered mosquitoes this viscous during daylight hours while hiking. When I finally reached the shelter, I found it full in spite of its large size – with a loft providing space for 12 or more hikers. I set up my tent, struggled down a steep side trail to get water, and after making dinner happily rested in my tent. This turned out to be the longest hiking day of the trip.

Sun 7/18 Upper Goose Pond Cabin 21.6 Elevation profile

By now I was on a different schedule than I had anticipated, because I had been able to do some longer days. As I looked at options for camping Sunday night, I was delighted to learn that I could reach Upper Good Pond Cabin, which is an enclosed structure with a volunteer caretaker who provides breakfast. I set off feeling fresh and ready to hike. Along the way I passed the marker for Shay’s Rebellion, an uprising against taxes in the 1700s. Around midday I passed the Shaker Campsite, a wooded area with tent platforms. I took a quick break, but was soon chased away by mosquitoes – and was very glad I did not need to stay the night. A few miles later I passed the Tyringham Cobble, a small hill near a town with the same name. After crossing a road I headed up into the woods toward Upper Goose Pond. The pond was surrounded by forest that was beginning to look more “northern” in quality, with Sugar Maples and Birches in abundance. The trail began to take on the rooted quality typical of northern New England as well. The Upper Goose Pond Cabin was reached via a ½ mile side trail. Normally I would avoid going this far off the trail to camp, but the cabin was worth the extra distance. Upon arriving I found a dozen other hikers, but there was bunk space still available. I took a swim in the pond and enjoyed talking with other hikers the rest of the evening. Most of these people were long distance hikers, and it was nice to be around others with a similar mindset after spending two nights at shelters with groups of kids and weekenders. The caretakers were a small family – parents and a pre-teen daughter – who were serving for their first night and were delighted to hang out with hikers. The next morning they provided a fabulous pancake breakfast!

Mon 7/19 Kay Wood Shelter 17.6 Elevation profile

After breakfast I set off again down the trail. Before long, it started to rain. As it turned out, the rain would last all day. Hiking in an all-day rain is a challenge. There is no good place to take a break, so you are tempted to continue hiking – putting you at risk from exhaustion if you don’t eat or drink enough. There was a shelter about halfway through the day, and I stopped for a break to get out of the run. The other memorable feature of this section was crossing I-90, the Massachusetts Turnpike. The trail crosses on an interesting bridge that looks like it was designed to carry vehicle traffic but for some reason was never finished. Sometime in the afternoon I came upon a “trail magic” site, where a local resident puts out a cooler of food and drinks for hikers during peak season. The “trail angel” was restocking the cooler, and had cans of Mountain Dew – I gladly stuffed one in my pack for later. She told me that when I arrived at Mount Greylock I should say hello to her husband, who was a volunteer receptionist at the lodge there. I arrived at the Kay Wood Shelter to find a small group of hikers already gathered. The shelter was large, with a high ceiling and upper loft space. Other hikers came in later in the evening, and we had some lively conversation. One guy was from Maine, and regaled us with stories about life in the northern woods. His companion told us about a time when he hiked the entire hundred-mile wilderness in Maine in 3 days, surviving on Army MREs. Another couple was through-hiking and called themselves “Machine” and “Waterloo”. Machine was an appropriate name – he was a fast hiker. They had camped at the buggy Shaker site the previous night, meaning they had hiked 28 miles that day. Another couple had been out on the trail for a few months but where planning to get off at the Vermont border, then do some bicycle touring for a few weeks. They set up their tent in the loft.

Tues 7/20 Mt. Greylock hostel 20.0 Elevation profile

Tuesday morning dawned clear, the rain gone. I reached the town of Dalton almost immediately, and stopped at a house where a guy named Tom hosts hikers for free. He offered me a bowl of ice cream – certainly the most unusual breakfast I have eaten. I used a pay phone to call Tatiana, then continued on up the trail. There was a nice view at a spot called the Cobbles where I had lunch, then dropped down again to another town called Cheshire. I did not linger, because I had decided I wasted to make it to the top of Mt. Greylock. Greylock is the highest mountain in Massachusetts at 3491’, and I had climbed it during one of the summers I spent at Rensselaer while doing my graduate degree. The peak is marked by an unusual tower that resembles a lighthouse and serves as a veteran’s memorial. The climb was steady and moderately difficult. Toward the top I encountered muddy, wet, rooted trails and spruce/fir forest. Had I been through-hiking, this would be the first spruce-fir forest I had seen since Mt. Rogers in southern Virginia. At the top of Greylock is Bascom Lodge, reachable by auto. The lodge caters to outdoor-oriented travelers who want more comfort than a tent. They had recently opened a hostel, which consisted of a bunkroom in a musty storage area in one of the outbuildings. I cooked dinner in a shelter area used for winter refuge during the ski season, and made use of the shower in the lodge. The Appalachian Mountain Club had formerly operated the lodge, but its management had recently been taken over by Nature’s Classroom – an environmental education group for which I worked in the summer of 1995. When I was checked in, the guy behind the desk asked me if I had seen the trail magic near a particular road crossing. I realized that he was the husband of the person I had met stocking the cooler the previous day. I cooked dinner inside a stone structure that serves as a warming hut during the winter ski season.

Wed 7/21 Congdon Shelter 20.4 Elevation profile

I descended from Greylock and into the town of North Adams the next day. The trail crosses through a small cross section of this town, and a grocery store could be found a short distance down a busy road. I stopped to get a few extra supplies, include a fresh apple. The hike into the mountains from town was steep but manageable, and I soon found myself crossing the border into Vermont and the Green Mountains. The weather was perfect for hiking, with low humidity, moderate warm temperatures, and blue skies. All was well except for the extremely wet and muddy trail. Vermont is known for muddy conditions in the spring – so much so that April and May are referred to as mud season – but conditions seemed unusual for July. I think it had rained quite a lot in the previous days. Some muddy areas were lined with logs (“bog bridges” to prevent damage to the trail, but these were not always effective. The trail passed several ponds with evidence of beaver activity, and toward the end of the day followed a rushing stream. The Congdon Shelter was close to the trail. It was an old shelter, the first I had seen in classic Vermont style – built to look a bit more like a rustic cabin, with a cross-hatched window in the back and side walls, a small table inside, and bunks for sleeping. One shelter occupant was a guy planning to hike the entire Long Trail, which shares treadway with the AT for 105 miles before continuing north to Canada when the AT turns east toward New Hampshire.

Thurs 7/22 Kid Gore Shelter 18.7 Elevation profile

Thursday provided similar weather to the previous, perfect for a summer hike. Around mid-morning I scrambled down a steep descent to route 9, which leads to Bennington, VT. I had hiked this section one Saturday while on break from graduate studies at RPI, and had met a 60+ year old woman who was through-hiking the trail for the second time. She was slack-packing, carrying only a small day pack while someone else waited for her at a road crossing with a ride to a place to stay. I remember that she told me her favorite section of trail was near Berlin, New Hampshire – which would be what most people refer to as the Mahoosuc range. I would later learn that the Mahoosucs are perhaps the toughest stretch of the entire trail. The climb back up from route 9 was an equally steep ascent, but I soon found myself back along the mountain tops. Around mid-afternoon I climbed Glastonbury Mountain, on top of which stands a large fire tower. I climbed the tower and enjoyed the view. Since there was still time left in the day, I hiked on toward Kid Gore shelter. The shelter was unusual. It was designed like the one at Congdon, but was small and had space for 4-6 people on bunks. The unusual part was the location of another shelter merely 100 yards away through the woods. When I arrived, a hiker was resting there, but he moved on later. I could hear voices from the other shelter, but nobody else showed up – so I had the place to myself. I went to sleep with a nice view of a valley/field below the shelter.

Fri 7/23 Stratton Pond Shelter 15.1 Elevation profile

When I awoke in the morning, a cloud obscured the view. I figured that rain would be coming – it was just a question of when. The trail was relatively easy as I approached the gravel Kelly Stand Road, which had a small trailhead for climbing Stratton Mountain. I had been there with my friend Ryan from RPI several years earlier – we climbed the mountain on a day hike, enjoyed the view from the tower, and talked with the caretakers – sponsored by the Green Mountain Club to keep an eye on this popular spot. As I moved along the trail, thunder began to rumble and the rain felt imminent. When I reached the road, I noticed a group of hikers that were probably waiting to be picked up. They were working furiously to pitch a tarp for shelter from the rain. I moved on and began the ascent. About halfway to the top, the rain started. It came down hard, making the hiking fairly unpleasant. In addition, the relatively high elevation (3936’) made for cool temperatures. Rainy and cold is not a fun combination, and this trip I spent no time at the top of the peak. The caretakers, if they were around, were shut inside their tiny cabin. I descended the mountain and arrived at Stratton Pond shelter. It was a beautiful new shelter with space for 10 or more people and an overhang in front to provide space for cooking out of the rain. Some other through-hikers were there, but they moved on so they could get to Manchester in time for the post office the next morning. I had arrived relatively early (probably 2:00 or 3:00), but I found a book in the shelter and spent much of the afternoon reading it. I had read that this was one of the most popular shelters on the trail, but there was no evidence of that distinction – a few hikers showed up, including a southbound through-hiker, but no crowds. The caretaker did not show either. The rain continued the rest of the day and into the night.

Sat 7/24 Route 30 10.4 Elevation profile

I had a last reached my last day. Tatiana was driving up from Cecil County to pick me up, and I had plenty of time to reach the road, so I lingered over breakfast. When I hit the trail I discovered that although the weather had cleared, the effects of the rain could not be avoided. The trail, which had just begun to dry out after a spell of good weather, had returned to wet mud. It was impossible to avoid getting my boots wet and muddy (they were still rather wet from yesterday’s downpour, so in some ways I suppose it did not matter). The route was relatively easy though, with a couple of occasional views towards the west, where I knew that the scenic route 7 made its way north. Eventually I reached Vermont route 11/30. Bromley Mountain lay ahead, waiting for the next hike. A parking lot lay across the road. Tatiana was not there yet, but showed up almost right away – good timing!! We took our time on the route home, following US 7 for much of the way so that I could show Tatiana the area where the trail had passed. We had dinner at a classic NY diner near the foot of the George Washington Bridge and then made our way home.