Finding our Stride on the Allegheny Trail
Note: This blog was originally published on The Trek and can be viewed in its original format here. This blog post covers June 26 through June 30, 2024
After a restful zero in Durbin, the halfway point of the Allegheny Trail, my hiking partner and I are ready to press forward and are looking forward to the next stretch of trail.
Where There are Blueberries, There are Bears
Leaving Durbin, we are on single track through a hardwood forest. The Sisters had mentioned the 20 mile stretch of trail between Durbin and Cass was “chewed up by horses” but we only see signs of them in the deepest of mud puddles and find very few hindrances on this stretch of trail. In fact, the trail is wide and smooth, covered in wispy grass or soft moss, and I call it a “green carpet”. It just goes to show that every hiker has a different experience, and you can’t take everything you hear to heart.
The climbs are tough, though, and we dub this section the Blueberry Roller Coaster. We go up, then down, then up, then back down, constantly surrounded by blueberry bushes. Most aren’t ready to eat but we find a few ripe ones along the way. Unsurprisingly, bear scat can be spotted every few miles.
We are surprised to meet two backpackers hiking north! The first we have run into on trail (since we met The Sisters at a restaurant). It is a father and son from California. They hiked the southernmost 100 miles last year and have returned for their second 100 mile section this summer. We share stories for a little while before continuing our way to an overview of the Greenbank Observatory. This is an iconic landmark along the ALT and it is important that I capture it in my painting series. We set up nearby and I backtrack to the view, which is partially obscured by the trees. There isn’t much in the way of sitting spots, but I make a log work. I just finish my sketch when the wind picks up and the sky darkens. I head back to camp for dinner to wait out the storm, and the rain starts as soon as I am done eating. I am unable to finish my painting on site, but work on a smaller painting from the town of Durbin in my tent while lightning brightens the sky around me.
We start our next day early and see a bear within a half a mile from camp! I am glad we didn’t receive a visit from him in the night, though I am sure the bears here see so few humans they would be too shy to try to steal a food bag from a tree with humans nearby. We finish the roller coaster ridgeline into Cass where we enjoy a hot breakfast and wifi before continuing on the Greenbriar River Trail. Here, a brown dog greets us with loud barks but a wagging tail. She is friendly, and decides to hike with us for a mile, and then two miles, and then three. I enjoy her company and name her Cass, but am hopeful that she heads home soon. Eventually two bikers pass us, and upon deciding that their pace is more well suited to her energy level, she chases after them.
We continue up a hot, steep gravel road into Seneca State Forest. When it turns back into single track trail, we appreciate the tree cover and shade. The trail in the state forest is well maintained, and we meet a few mountain bikers before arriving to the Seneca State Forest Hiker’s Shelter. It is more of a picnic shelter than the 3 wall shelters we are used to, but the architecture is interesting and there is an incredible view. I paint the view for a few hours, kindly interrupted by some ATVers that share water and beer with us.
The next morning we spot another bear in the first few miles! We continue on pristine trail through rhododendron tunnels, enjoying the easy decent. Taking a break at a road crossing, we realize we are about 70% through with the trail. So far, the trail has not lived up to the rumors of unmaintained, overgrown trail and tedious road walks that I had heard. I ask Grey Squirrel if he would recommend this trail to other hikers and he says yes, absolutely. I agree. It has truly been pleasant so far.
We alternate between road and trail until we make it to a gas station on a road that leads to Marlinton, where we have reservations at an Inn. We rest and enjoy some ice cream. There is no cell service so we aren’t able to make arrangements for a ride, but the kind attendant (who seems to know everyone who walks into the store) finds a customer headed that way and he gives us a ride. We enjoy a restful stay at the Old Clark Inn. The small town is buzzing. The country music artist Zach Bryan has chosen a small tavern there to host an early album release party, and there is a rumor that he may make an appearance in town the next day. We enjoy dinner and beers and a visit from my friends Four Leaf and Babbles who make the trip down from Snowshoe. Grey Squirrel goes to bed early but the three of us head to a town park where live music continues until 11pm. I have so much fun, I entirely forget that I meant to resupply in town!
A Shift in the Trail
We catch a ride back to the same gas station the next morning, which I am able to squeeze a 3 day resupply out of. Thank goodness for pepperoni rolls! I have a headache from too many beers the night before, and the day is already hot. We follow a short road walk before turning back onto single track, which is almost invisible from the overgrowth. It splits into double track before too long, where the overgrowth isn’t as cumbersome. I am in the middle of making a video about how, yes, the trail is overgrown, but no, it isn’t an issue, when I see Gray Squirrel halt up ahead and shout back to me. There is a rattlesnake in his path, coiled and rattling. He is hardly visible under the grass and weeds. My sentiment that the slight overgrowth is nonproblematic shifts, and we press forward slowly, pushing aside the greenery before every step.
We had planned to camp at Beaver Creek Gorge, and it was suggested I paint the bridge over the creek there. The decent is steep, and the last mile or so before the campsite is rocky and tricky to navigate. The campsite itself has nice infrastructure: a cool bridge, picnic table, and benches. Unfortunately, it is in poor condition, with downed trees and branches over the flat spots, and briars growing over the table, benches, and bridge. The bugs are aggressive and I can’t find a composition I really like, so we decide to press on. The climb out of the gorge is steep and there are several blowdowns. We get off trail twice, despite the consistent blazing. It is a struggle for several miles and we reach the top of the climb exhausted. We press on to Watoga State Park where we appreciate the conveniences of a water spigot and a porta potty. I am completely exhausted and barely make it through dinner before climbing into my tent and falling asleep while the sun is still up.
In the middle of the night, a storm rolls in that continues into the morning, delaying our plans for an early start. I wait for the rain to cease before packing up and we don’t get started until after 8am. The trail is narrow, with several blow downs, and is clearly not used very often. The miles are slow. I know I can expect overgrowth on the trail and should be wearing pants but it is hot and humid and everything is wet. I hate the sticky feeling of wet pants and opt for shorts instead.
We reach a ridgeline where I immediately regret my outfit choice but can’t be bothered to change. The Far Out comments warn of the upcoming 2 miles to be overgrown, but I am stubborn. I have service, so I call my parents. I use the phone call as a distraction from the worst two miles of trail yet. Thick briars, brambles, and blackberries cover the trail. Not just overgrown from the side of the trail, but on the trail itself. They come up to my waist or higher. Each step is like wading through water, and the vines tangle around my feet. Thorns rip at my thighs and snag my pack. The occasional blowdown provides obstacles to overcome creatively. I try not to think about snakes, as I can’t see the ground anywhere. I just focus on my conversation with my parents. Distracting myself is a good technique and I make it through in a better mood than Gray Squirrel.
We stumble down the mountain and are thankful to find the meadow at the bottom freshly mowed for us to pass through. Our break at Bear Branch trailhead is long, enjoying a nice shade tree. When we start moving, Gray Squirrel is stung by a bee then immediately slips and falls on a bridge. He swears he is fine so we press on. The climb is steep and hot, but the trail is in better shape and I move forward at a good pace. Eventually I notice Gray Squirrel isn’t behind me, which I wouldn’t normally worry about but the guide in me remembers the bee sting so I decide to wait to make sure he is okay. I wait for a while (picking off a tick in the meantime) and he still doesn’t show. Eventually I start backtracking down the mountain where I find him sitting on trail. It is not an effect from the sting, but he is exhausted and not feeling well. We continue up the trail together at his insistence, breaking far more often than normal. I check his heart rate and find it normal, he is just having a hard time in the heat. At the top we have an option to take a side trail to Lake Sherwood Recreation Area, but he is feeling better on the decent and we make it through the rest of the day without incident.
Our campsite is just a flat spot with no frills. The bugs are horrible so I dive into my tent as soon as possible. We struggle to make a decent bear hang, and the water source is little more than a brown puddle. We pick off two more ticks. My legs look like a cat’s scratching post from the bushwack earlier in the day. We give the day a rating of 2 on a scale of 1 to 10 and proceed to have a fitful sleep in the hot, humid night.
It seems as though, after over 200 miles, the trail is finally start to live up to its reputation of being rough and rugged, and I worry about the miles to come.