AT hike with Chip

Where: Appalachian Trail in MA, CT/MA border to Sheffield Road
When: 23-25 June, 2022
With: Chip

Planning began in early April, initiated by Chip. He proposed a multi-day hike on the section of the Appalachian Trail where it crosses from Connecticut to Massachusetts, staying at AT shelters & campsites. I suggested a mid-week trip, and Chip sent an email to The Stupids on April 15 proposing an 11.9 mile, three day/two night walk during the first week of June.

David & Xeth didn't respond right away, but Chip & I continued to work on the details via email, figuring out where we'd park, where we'd camp, how long each day's walk would be, etc. We also moved the dates out a few weeks to avoid some schedule conflicts, while taking care to avoid the annual "bubble" of AT thru-hikers coming up from Georgia. A little research had them arriving in early July.

A second email was sent on May 10, with a map and a narrative description from a guidebook. Chip added, "We reviewed the trail and it's not too long or tough." Four days later, David replied: "Chip & John, I respectfully decline. Have a great time." Two days after that, Xeth sent a long, thoughtful response that basically said he no longer found joy in leaving the comforts of home for the sake of walking from one spot to another. He would not be joining us either.

Since it was just the two of us (Butch & Sundance ride again), I proposed we simplify our meal plans. I offered to bring coffee and a stove & cookpot, but we'd each be on our own for everything else (breakfasts, lunches, snacks, dinners). For dinners, rather than the traditional communal pot-o-tortellini, I suggested freeze-dried meals. Just add boiling water and eat. Chip liked the idea. I already had a supply of ancient (20+ years old) AlpineAire meals, but I was concerned about their quality (and longevity). I tried one at home, and it wasn't great, so I ordered an assortment of new meals from REI.

We also decided to use hammocks rather than tents. I'd set up all of my tents in the yard recently (something I do every few years) and sent a photo around. 

When Chip asked which one I'd be using, I said I was bringing my Hennessey Hammock. The idea appealed to him, and he purchased a camping hammock for himself from Amazon. I advised him to set it up at home and test it out before the trip, which he did and said it was fine.

So we were set for the hike, sort of. Two days before we were to go, Chip asked if we could push it out a day to get better weather, in part so he could bring along a small acoustic guitar. Not a problem. Then the next evening he said a friend (Kate) in the area had offered to let us leave a car at her place. The AT ran nearby, and if we extended the hike a few more miles, we'd come close to her house and could finish there. She also offered to pick us up earlier if the extra miles seemed to be too much. The security for the car was inviting, but I said we should stick with our original plan of leaving cars at parking areas at both ends.

The morning of the hike, I had a thought. Would Kate be willing to drive us to the start of the hike? That would allow us to leave both cars at her house. Chip contacted her and she agreed, but she had a Zoom call to attend in the afternoon, so we had to get to her place by noon. Fortunately, we were both already packed. I was quickly out the door and on the road, and landed at Kate's - with Chip right behind me - at 11:30. Kate arrived a few minutes later, and at noon we were at the trailhead for the Undermountain Trail (just south of the CT-MA border). A deer nibbled the shrubs in the parking lot while we unloaded our gear, said our goodbyes to Kate, and began our walk.

The trail began gently at first, passing through stands of mountain laurel in bloom, then began to climb steadily, following an old road to ascend the ridge. About a mile up, we turned on to the Paradise Lane Trail, to bypass a climb up/over Bear Mountain on the Appalachian Trail. It soon passed a camping area, then came to an odd junction, with a blue-blazed trail leading away both left and right. We knew to go right, but wondered about the other direction. It turned out that was the true Paradise Lane Trail, and we'd been on an access path to the campsite.

A bit more climbing finally brought us to the Appalachian Trail, 3.2 miles and 2.5 hours from our start. It was a slow pace, but we weren't in a hurry. We had all afternoon to get to our first night's campsite, which we thought was 4.1 miles from the start. Here we were however, already 3.2 miles in, and a trail sign said the campsite was 1.9 miles further along. Not a problem, but the pace and distance discrepancy were signs of things to come.

The trail junction was at the entrance to Sages Ravine, a spectacular gorge with a brook running between steep rock walls, and frequent pools and waterfalls. Chip was especially taken by the area, proclaiming it the most beautiful place he'd ever seen. We both took our time, in part to admire the scenery, but also to negotiate the trail (rocky and damp in spots). Though the pools were inviting, we didn't go in, and didn't see anyone else in the water.  We did see other hikers from time to time, but the Ravine isn't very accessible. Getting to it from either end requires a long hike and a steep climb. From the south there's the hike we just did, and from the north, hikers have to go up and over Mt. Race first. Granted, we were there on a Thursday afternoon. Perhaps the area is crowded on warm summer weekends, but for now, we enjoyed the serenity of the place.

At the bottom of the Ravine, the trail crossed Sawmill Brook, the dividing line between the CT & MA maintenance responsibilities for the AT. A hiker who had passed us earlier in the Ravine was sitting there, and we stopped to chat. He turned out to be our first AT thru-hiker. His trail name was Cash, which was also his last name. From the south (N. Carolina?), he was enjoying his Walk In The Woods. He'd had a number of "zero days" early on, dealt with snow, but had done some high mileage days as well and seemed pleased with his progress. He was planning to get off the trail the next day to go home for a week-long vacation with his family at a lake.

We parted ways with Cash and a little over a mile later we arrived at the Laurel Ridge campsite, our destination for the night. It was 4PM. I arrived before Chip (a pattern we'd repeat throughout the hike) and stopped just short of the campsite access trail. An older couple were there, filtering water from a stream using a gravity filtering system. They'd also passed us (separately) in Sages Ravine. When Chip arrived we chatted with them a bit, and learned they were also thru-hikers, and were deciding whether to stay at the campsite or keep going north.

Chip & I headed up to the campsite, checking out the tent spots before selecting one that would work for our hammocks. We were the first ones there, so had our pick of spots. Soon after we settled in, the older couple joined us and set up at the spot next to ours. Retirees, their trail names were Livin' It (him) and Lovin' It (her). They too were jumping off the next day. Their son (temporarily living in East Greenbush, NY) was coming to meet them, take them to lunch (outdoors!), and then take them to his home for the night. I made a point of noting what they had & did, figuring that after 3 months on the trail, they'd worked out the kinks in their hiking routine. They set up their site quickly, changed from boots to flip-flops, used a Jet Boil to heat water, had freeze-dried dinners (eaten out of the pouches), and then sat together and checked out their cell phones. Where we'd changed into long pants and fleece tops, they just put on light rain jackets.

[A note: The woods were full of Spongy (formerly Gypsy) Moth caterpillars, and they covered the trees where we hung our hammocks. Histamines in their hairs cause irritation, and our hands were stinging if we inadvertently touched them. Several times during the trip I put my hand on a tree trunk to steady myself and wound up in pain.]

I went down to the site's water source (a spring that fed the stream down at the trail) and used my water filter to pump a bag of water. I'd brought the inner bladder from a Dunkin' Box O' Joe as a water container. Light and collapsible, I figured it would work well at the campsites, saving us trips between the site's water source and our camping spot. When I returned, Chip was asking the couple if it would be a problem if he played some guitar later. He promised no heavy metal and they were fine with that. I got my stove going and boiled water for our dinners. My Wild West Chili & Beans was a bit firey at first, but I finished it all. 

Chip polished off his dinner as well, and we settled in for the evening. There was some guitar playing, but when I went to rinse out my dinner pouch and put my food bag in the bear locker, it began to rain. Though there'd been forecasts of a line of thunderstorms that evening, the front had dissipated and we thought we'd avoid any rain at all. Oh well. It was just a light shower, and only lasted a half hour or so. We huddled under Chip's hammock rain fly and waited it out, but it put an end to the guitar playing. Eventually we just called it a night and headed to our beds.

As usual, I slept fitfully, cat-napping for several hours before finally nodding off for good. I probably got 4-5 hours of solid sleep before the dawn chorus of birds began around 4:30. Just one or two at first, then others joined in. We rolled out of our hammocks around 6:00, had breakfast (oatmeal & coffee), and relaxed before finally leaving at 8:00. During an early AM trip to the privy, I met another overnight occupant of the campsite, apparently staying at a group area in a different part of the site. The couple had left earlier, after an efficient breakfast (instant oatmeal eaten out of the pouch) and pack-up.

Back on the trail, we only went a short distance before we spotted an open area to the side of the trail. We weren't in a hurry, figuring we had all day for a 5-6 mile hike, and I suggested we go check it out. It turned out to be the spot we should have camped at (though we would have missed meeting the couple). A stream (Bear Rock Brook) ran through it, and there was a beautiful campsite with a view in the valley beyond, a fire pit, and plenty of trees for hammocks. The valley was filled with a low cloud, creating an undercast, and the morning light turned it into a wall of bright whiteness.  I hung out at the campsite while Chip explored a waterfall where the brook tumbled over the ridge's edge.

Eventually we left the spot and began the climb up Mt. Race. The trail ran along the edge of the ridge, with forever views of the valley to the east. I stopped at one outlook to wait for Chip and a man joined us with a beautiful German Shepherd. He was a section hiker, and had started at Harper's Ferry on his way north. He told of getting a call from his daughter and needing to leave the trail to help her train for some school or program, but Chip & I differed on whether that was on this trip or on a previous one. In any case, he was a nice guy and the dog was nice as well.

A short time later we arrived at the summit of Mt. Race. There were a few rocky openings here and there, but limited views. We pretty much just passed through and began our descent, though I took some time to locate a drill hole which I assumed marked the summit. The trail heading down the other side was tricky, with sections of slick, wet rocks. I was grateful for my hiking poles, but still had a few slips along the way. At last we reached the base, and the junction with the Race Brook Falls trail (2.8 miles from our campsite, 2:45 walking time). Chip went down the trail to the campsite (0.2 miles) to refill his water and I stayed with the packs. Several folks came through while we were there. Four older folks day-hiking up Mt. Race, a young man thru-hiking north (no trail name yet), and a Scotsman in a kilt, heading south. He was hiking the AT in sections, and had already finished 1000 miles.

Now came the fun part. From the Race Brook Falls trail, it was just 1.9 miles to the next campsites, but Mt. Everett, the highest peak (2602') in the Taconic range, was in the way. Chip & I parted, agreeing to meet at the top. I just put my head down and did my best to keep moving at a steady pace. The climb was rocky and brutally steep. At places there were wooden steps bolted to the rock to help with the climbing. It was only 0.5 miles from the base to the summit, but it was tough going and it took me 45 minutes, arriving a little after noon. Knowing Chip would likely be an equal amount of time behind me, I ate my lunch and explored the summit. The bases of the old fire tower (removed in 2002) marked the top, but without the tower there were no views from the wooded summit. My guidebook said there were views from ledges to the west, and I followed a number of paths leading into the brush toward that direction, but they all just fizzled out. I did find a couple of survey markers embedded in the rock.

By the way, the trees at the summit (bristlecone pines) are part of one of the largest remaining tracts of old growth forest in the state. This forest extended for the majority of the ridge we hiked on this trip.

Two guys came up from the north, day hiking from the next campsite (Glen Brook). Chip arrived just after they left, pretty much right when I'd expected. He'd stopped partway up to make himself some lunch, and was pretty fried by the climb. The rising heat of the day didn't help matters. We rested at the top for quite awhile before hoisting our packs and starting the descent. Again, tough walking down rocky ledges, but after a bit the trail headed into the woods and crossed over a dirt road. It then paralleled the road down to a picnic/parking area near Guilder Pond. A young man was sleeping on the ground in a grassy area by some picnic tables, and a middle-aged woman was putting together hiking gear at her car in the lot when I got there.

Chip arrived and rested at one of the picnic tables before we continued. The woman was heading out at the same time and in the same direction, and Chip struck up a conversation with her. She was meeting some friends for a stay at the Glen Brook campsite, where we were heading as well. I went on ahead (as usual) while she & Chip walked together and talked. 

It was a short, easy walk to the side trails for the Hemlocks & Glen Brook campsites. We stopped at the Glen Brook crossing to refill our water supplies and discuss our plans. Our original plan was to stay at the Glen Brook campsite, then head out the next day. Earlier however (perhaps even back at the Laurel Ridge campsite), Chip had suggested continuing on past Glen Brook, with a goal of camping at Jug End. The ledges there might offer stunning views, and we'd be a couple of miles further along in case we wanted to try to walk all the way back to Kate's house. 

Given the possibility of views from Jug End, I figured there was a good chance we'd find previously used tent sites there. It was still pretty early, and heading further along versus settling in to a campsite in the middle of the afternoon seemed like a good idea to me. The only issues with Jug End: no campsite privy (!), and no water source. We could deal with the lack of a privy, but the water required some planning. No problem though. I filled up the Box O' Joe bag with about a gallon of water, secured it under the top cover of my pack, and we were good to go. It made my pack top heavy (and 8 pounds heavier), but the trail from there to Jug End was easier, with only moderate climbs along the ridge.

The trail wound through a beautiful forest on a fairly easy path. A little over half a mile along, the Elbow Trail came in from the right. This was the final access trail from the road before Jug End, and we figured we'd see no one else from here on. The trail climbed the ridge a bit, ascending several peaks of Mt. Bushnell, then descended more rocky ledges. That's when we ran into trouble. As I made my way down one bit of ledge, the bag of water slid out from under my pack cover and fell to the rocks, where it burst. I grabbed it, thinking I could save some of the water, but the break was at the bottom and the water just poured out. 

I waited for Chip and gave him the bad news. Considering how much water he'd been drinking during the trip, I expected...well, I don't know what. But he took it very well. "Okay," I think he said. We discussed our options. We could go back to the Glen Brook Campsite, we could continue on to Jug End and camp, we could continue on past Jug End and try to find water, or we could get out to Jug End Road, call Kate, and call it a hike. 

The crucial question was whether we had enough water to make it through the night. I had 1/2 a liter in the container I'd been drinking from using a hose & bite valve, and Chip had 1/3 of the large plastic bottle he'd been using. We decided we had enough. It would mean drinking what we had sparingly, dry dinners (no freeze-dried meals), a dry breakfast (no oatmeal or coffee), and hoping we could find water the next day. We agreed to keep going and see what the Jug End camping possibilities were like. If good, we'd stay there. If not, we'd keep going and figure something out.

Soon after we continued along, we ran into a trail runner heading south. Chip asked if he'd noted any water and he mentioned a sign at Jug End Road saying there was a source 0.1 miles away, but nothing before that. A bit after that I met up with another hiker, also heading south. Not the typical thru-hiker physique, but he said that's what he was doing. He'd come out of Great Barrington, and said a) the water source at Jug End Road was dry, and b) pretty much everything else in the area was dry as well. So much for the option of continuing on past Jug End and hoping to find water.

At 5PM I arrived at Jug End. I dropped my pack, explored the area, and found a perfect area for camping (though no obvious previously used spots). Open spaces, trees for hammocks, and views from the ledges in all directions. When Chip arrived, I pretty much told him we were staying there for the night. I confirmed he still had enough water to get through the night, and that was that. In short order we had our hammocks strung up (no rain flies) between the bristle cone pines and were settling in. Dinner for me was a bagel (originally intended for Saturday lunch), a Clif Bar, and two packets of Welch's fruit snacks. A few careful sips of water completed the feast. Chip had bagels, sliced turkey, and cheese for his meal. Lacking a bear box, we hung our food bags from a line up in the trees.

Sunset was still a couple of hours away. Chip climbed into his hammock to rest his back, while I explored a bit, played some guitar, and relaxed on the ledges, enjoying the views. Around 8:30, the sun finally set behind the ridge to our west. We watched the clouds to the west light up with colors, then headed to our hammocks at 9 while a few owls hooted in the woods nearby. Another fitful night for me. I was up at 10:30 to check out the stars, then listened to a pack of coyotes hold choir practice in the woods below us at 1:30. The next thing I knew it was 4:30. I slid out of my hammock and went to the ledges to look for the line up of planets. Sure 'nuf, there they were. Spread out in a line with the moon above a spectacular orange pre-dawn glow along the eastern horizon. [Not my photo below...just an illustration of what I saw]

I climbed back into the hammock and listened to the dawn bird chorus rise again, then watched a hummingbird flit around the site until I got up for good at 5:30. Chip was awakening about the same time. I packed up my hammock and gear, then went to have some of the remainder of my water. When I sucked on the tube however, nothing came out. I pulled the bag out of the side pocket and found it was empty. I'd noticed some water on the ground nearby but didn't think much of it. Perhaps the bite valve got squeezed by my pack, allowing the water to flow out by gravity. In any case, I now had no water at all.

We ate our breakfasts (Clif Bar & Welch's fruit snacks again for me), finished packing up, took a few final photos, then prepared to leave. Chip had texted Kate the previous evening asking for a ride back to the cars from our original ending point (Sheffield Road, near the Shays Rebellion Battle Monument) at 11AM, assuming we'd leave the campsite at 8. Since it was just 6:30, he contacted her again and pushed the pickup time back to 9AM. She was fine with that, and we began our climb down from Jug End.

The trail dropped off the ridge over a couple of steep ledges at first, then slabbed along the side of the ridge for a good while. We met a couple of middle-aged guys just below the summit who were heading in for a week of camping. The trail made a few more drops, and finally came to the base of the ridge and an open forest. Easy walking at last. A couple more intermediate ridge crossings and we arrived at Jug End Road. The parking pull-off, described as small and good for 2-3 cars, was quite large. Easily a 10 car lot. I suggested we check out the water source, 0.1 miles down the road, just in case. A deer crossed the road 100 yards or so away as I walked in search of the water, with Chip trailing behind. After a bit I came to a dry, rocky streambed, apparently the "water source," and turned back.

We returned to the trail and headed back into the woods, hoping to get to an "intermittent farm brook" where we thought we might get water. Chip had even suggested stopping there and making coffee. Alas, it was all dry, or any water we did find was so brackish we didn't want to even try to filter it. We just kept walking, through a beautiful woods, along ancient stone walls, beside farmer's fields. At one field just after crossing Route 41, I turned back and was able to spot the tip of Jug End in the distance.

The trail dipped down into a marshy area, where the mosquitos came out in force. Chip stopped to put on bug spray at the beginning. I lasted a bit longer before I couldn't take it any more and applied repellent as well. The trail made a few more turns, entered a woods with enormous oak trees, then came to another marshy section. A seemingly endless boardwalk snaked through the area before coming to a small bridge (Hubbard Brook) with ladders at each end. This was the final landmark on our walk. Just a few steps further and Sheffield Road appeared through an opening in the brush along the trail. I waited for Chip,and we emerged together, right at 9.

Someone was apparently setting up a trail magic station in the parking lot at the trailhead, erecting a canopy as we arrived. They glanced at us, perhaps wondering if we were thru-hikers (others we'd met along the trail had mistaken us as well), but we spotted Kate, who'd parked across the road at a different lot, and headed over to her.

Kate had a jug of water for us, and we each had a drink before loading our gear into her car, and enjoying the ride back to her house. A few pleasantries were exchanged before we parted. Chip stayed at Kate's a bit, cleaning up, and joining Kate and her family for breakfast in town. I tossed my gear in my car and headed for home. I'd intended to stop at a Dunkin' for a large iced coffee, but the first shop I found was blocked by a semi-trailer. I figured I'd find another one, but I never did, so I just kept driving until I landed at home at 11:15.

Here are more photos

Final thoughts:

• The hike was 16.1 miles, not the 11.9 miles to Jug End Road we originally proposed, or the 14.3 miles to include the additional mileage to Sheffield Road. The shorter distances came from the AT section of the Appalachian Mountain Club's Massachusetts Trail guide (11th edition, 2021). The longer distances came from the Appalachian Trail Conservancy's Appalachian Trail Guide for Massachusetts-Connecticut (14th edition, 2018). Even though the AMC guide is newer, the ATC guide numbers match the mileages noted on trail signs along the way. I could understand a few tenths of a mile difference, but this was nearly a 2 mile discrepancy.
• Daily mileage & time
• Day 1: 5.1 miles, 4 hours
• Day 2: 7.2 miles, 10 hours (includes 30 min. detour to explore Bear Rock Falls)
• Day 3: 3.8 miles, 2.5 hours
• I'm really impressed with the way we handled the loss of our water. We calmly assessed the situation, considered our options, and put together a plan to proceed.
• I also enjoyed our decision early on the second day to consider hiking past the Glen Brook campsite and trying to find a place to camp at Jug End. It reflected a confidence that we could cope without the benefits a campsite offered (tent sites, water, privy, bear box), for a chance (though not guaranteed) of having a site to ourselves with a spectacular view.
• Though the lack of water changed our plans slightly at Jug End (mostly our dinner & breakfast menus, and evening festivity activities), we did everything we wanted to do on this trip. We hiked the AT, met thru-hikers, saw a spectacular ravine and beautiful forests, walked through old growth trees, had endless high ridge views, climbed a couple of mountains, slept in hammocks, and spent the final night at a perfect campsite with sunset, stars, and sunrise views. Awakened by bird song each day, serenaded by coyotes and owls at night, and enjoyed near-perfect weather (even the small shower).
• I was genuinely concerned about Chip at times during the trip. He was carrying a heavy (35 pound) backpack and was not in the shape he used to be. This was also the first hike on his new hip. He had to stop often, and moved at a pace we dubbed "plauntering"...a combination of plodding and sauntering. We settled into a pattern where I would walk on ahead at my pace, then wait for him at some appropriate spot. He'd catch up (often clearly hurting), rest a bit, then we'd continue. That gave me a lot of rest time, but it meant collectively we moved at a pace of about 1 mile/hour.  To his credit however, he kept "plauntering" along. Had our situations been reversed, I might have been pushing for a bailout on the hike. You're a better man than I, Gunga Din!
• That said, for Chip, a good portion of this trip qualified as Type 2 Fun. 
  
  
  
• My pack weighed about 26 pounds. Lighter than Chip's but still too heavy. The thru-hiker meetings gave me ideas to lighten my load. No need for a plate or bowl for food...eat out of the pouch. Forget the extra clothes and mountain parka. Bring a light rain jacket for end-of-the-day warmth, then get into the sleeping bag. Use a 3/4 foam pad vs. the full length inflatable. I'm even thinking about using a lighter hammock if rain is not a possibility.
• Chip said his walking style & pace had been suggestive of Winnie The Pooh, and he became The Plauntering Pooh on this trip. I told him that if he was Pooh, I was Tigger. Seems about right.