A Grueling Finish to the Allegheny Trail
NOTE: THIS BLOG WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON THE TREK AND CAN BE VIEWED IN ITS ORIGINAL FORMAT HERE. THIS POST COVERS JUly 1- July 4, 2024.
With only 70 miles left of our 311 mile hike, we were thinking that we knew the trail pretty well, and what to expect moving forward. However, our last two days were significantly more challenging, and we realize it will take some determination and metal fortitude to make it to the southern terminus.
To Skip a Section, or Press On?
We woke early to cooler than normal tempaturess and were thankful for the decrease in heat. We pack up quickly and get going, having mutually decided that afternoon miles are significantly harder than morning miles. We have the ridgeline of Meadow Mountain to look forward to today, and are not sure what to expect after the trail conditions the day before.
The trail starts slightly shabby and slowly becomes more overgrown. Out of nowhere, with no noticeable side trails leading to this section, we find a stretch of trail that looks as though it has been weed whacked recently. But the maintenance ends in less than a mile and the briars take over with a vengeance. We spend the next 3 or 4 miles on the worse trail conditions I have seen in all my hiking. The canopy is thin, the ridgeline scared from a fire however many years back. The increased sunlight reaching the forest floor has given every poking, stinging, and tangling plant permission to grow to its fullest potential. It is not just that the plants along the side of the trail are growing into the path, but rather than full bramble bushes have sprouted out of the trail itself and grown to an impressive 5 feet tall. It is consistent for miles and I can’t help but laugh. I try my hardest to keep my mood light, knowing that my mindset is the only thing I have control over in this scenario.
I am smart enough to wear pants today, but the thorns still claw at my arms and snag my clothing. I ignore the thought of ticks. I can’t help but think of the rattlesnake we stumbled upon just two days prior and wonder how many more might be looking for spots of sun on this ridgeline as well… and sure enough we find one. A beautiful blonde colored rattler, coiled and levitating, hissing and rattling, just a few feet in front of Gray Squirrel. It would have been invisible to us if it wasn’t for its loud rattle. We are so thankful it saw us first. The nerves creep in and I am reminded again just how dangerous and unnecessary it is to be hiking through these conditions.
We get cell service and I call Teflon, one of The Sisters that we met who hiked Nobo and is now finished with her hike. “You are the most badass women alive!!!” I say when she picks up the phone, “How on earth did you not quit this trail on day four??” She laughs and agrees. In fact, the knowledge that The Sisters did make it through this section of trail has been a huge motivator for us and we might have already pulled out if we hadn’t known it was technically passable because of them. I ask her for some intel on the trail to come and don’t feel encouraged with her response. There is an upcoming road crossing. Gray Squirrel and I both have a purist mentality. Our goal is to hike every mile of this trail, and to fall short of that to any degree feels like a failure. But this isn’t a trail, and if the conditions don’t improve we decide we will skip the next stretch, goals be damned.
Next I call a WVSTA volunteer. I know there was a weeklong trail maintenance event in this section somewhere. I would hate to bail out right before it…and sure enough he assures me that a lot of work has been done on the stretch that starts right after our upcoming road crossing.
So we grind our teeth, and finish up the hellacious ridgeline. The descent is mild, and at the road crossing we find a beautiful, sparkling creek where we soak our feet and snack. Immediately after crossing the road, the trail changes entirely, it is like night and day. A wide rhododendron tunnel greets us. The ground is clear of growth, rocks, or roots. The nearby creek babbles playfully and birds sing. Bridges guide us over waterways. The maintenance done here is obvious, and it looks like it took an army. For miles, we pass fresh clippings and see signs of their hard and tedious work. I have always understood that trail maintenance is important, but my appreciation for it has tripled. I find myself sending gratitude to the volunteers with every step, now having a better understanding of just how bad it could be.
We arrive at Graham Shelter in the late afternoon. The shelter is incredible, with upwards of 50+ conveniently placed hooks for hanging gear. A nearby meadow has a freshly mowed path through it with a beautiful view of the mountains. I sketch out the scene in the afternoon and then early the next morning return to the vantage point to paint the scene with the vibrant sunrise colors. We are hiking by 8am, and the rest of the trail continues to show the hard work of the volunteers who take ownership of this section. With such little foot traffic, I can tell how much more this trail demands of the maintainers than a trail like the AT would. I try to brainstorm solutions, but I know there are only so many volunteers and these mountains are remote and hard to access. I make a silent commitment to return for a maintenance event this year, but I know that I live too far away to return often enough to make a difference. My brain is occupied with the conundrum of how WVSTA can provide a clearer trail with the resources they have, but I don’t feel like I know enough about the situation or the science behind trail maintenance to find any real solutions. The best thing I can think of is that the ridgeline from yesterday should have been closed. In the same way the trail provides High Water alternatives during the rainy season, a road walk alternative should have been suggested for the unmaintained section of “trail”. I add this suggestion as a comment in Far Out for future hikers.
The Gap
We eventually make it to the start of The Gap. I am told that the established trail route south of here is on a section of land where the boundary between public and private is disputed, so a road walk alternative has been provided until that dispute is settled. I have been looking forward to the road walk after how rough the trail has been for the last 3 days. We pick up our pace significantly on the pavement, enjoying the quiet neighborhood where locals greet us, knowing exactly what we are up to and wishing us luck. The main road into White Sulphur Springs is busy but we have a wide shoulder, and even spot our third bear of the trail along the route. In White Sulphur Springs we enjoy a comfortable Air BnB and dinner, and I finally catch up on Bridgerton episodes.
The next day we continue the road walk out of town. My husband, Raphael, is meant to meet us today (with my dog Junie along for the ride) and I can’t wait! We enjoy quiet back country roads, double track, and winding gravel roads in the mountains until Raph finds us in the late morning. I greet him enthusiastically. Junie ignores me and runs straight for Gray Squirrel, and I decide she must be mad at me for leaving for so long. We unload everything but snacks, water, and first aid into Raph’s car. He hikes with us for a bit before returning to the car with Junie and heading to Mancove State Park where we have a campsite. We see him again when we pass the state park and enjoy a short break, then continue. We are going fast, and make it to the small town of Gap Mills earlier than expected. We enjoy ice cream while we wait for Raph to join us. After he arrives, we explore the cute Mennonite store before he drives us farther south on trail, and we hike the last three miles of our day downhill and north, back to Gap Mills. It’s a 25 mile day for us and we are exhausted! Raph takes us back to the state park where he cooks a delicious meal in a cast iron over the fire. I enjoy snuggling with him and Junie in our tent after such a long day.
The Final Miles
We wake early, to Raph’s dismay, and he takes us to where we left off on the road walk. We finish the last mile of The Gap, then rejoin single track trail at Hanging Rock Observatory. The one mile trail to the Observatory is well traveled, and the Observatory itself is stunning. It is built, seemingly with magic, into the rocky outcroppings of the ridge. The view overlooks the incredibly gorgeous countryside that we walked through the day before, and we can see for miles. I could sit here all day, but am eager to complete this trail, so we press on.
The moment we leave the loop trail for the Observatory, the ALT is overgrown again. So much so, in fact, we passed right by the “trail” twice before noticing a yellow blaze off in the distance. I expect the worse, take a deep breath, and trudge forward.
The next 12 miles are both brutal and stunning. Some briars tangle at our feet, but the majority of the overgrowth is less offensive plants: grasses and ferns. The ridgeline is quiet and wild, with beautiful trees and peek-a-boo views in the distance. The ferns cover the ground in a magical way, giving an otherworldly effect. Some of them grow as tall as us and I am in awe.
However, I am also incredibly frustrated. It feels like wading through water, as plants tangle around our legs causing resistance with every step. We lose the trail multiple times despite the consistent blazing. Our pace is cut in half. There is nowhere to break, nowhere clear enough to sit without being engulfed by green. We listen to a podcast together, trying to disassociate.
I am frustrated because this ridgeline is one of the prettiest stretches of the Allegheny Trail, but it’s hard to appreciate when the trail is in such poor condition. I am frustrated because it is our last day, and we should be hiking these miles with joy and excitement, and maybe with some sadness that the journey will soon be over. But instead, the end can’t come soon enough, and I feel my emotions of the last 4 days ruining the otherwise wonderful experience I have had on the Allegheny Trail. I am frustrated because anyone who starts this hike NoBo would be turned off immediately, and I don’t see how anyone would continue after the first few days of it in this condition. I am frustrated because the Southern Terminus (the AT) and Hanging Rock Observatory are probably the two most visited spots on the ALT, and this 12 miles between should serve as a billboard for the trail but instead is as uninviting as a trail can get.
At long last, I spot a sign in the distance. A white blaze on a tree greets us. We have made it to the Appalachian Trail, and the Southern Terminus of the Allegheny Trail. We hug, dance, and take our picture with the sign. We curse the trail a bit, but I clarify that I am only mad at about 20% of the trail, not the whole thing. We snack for a moment, but in true AT fashion, rain interrupts our celebration.
We quickly pack up and head north on the AT. The trail is easy and clear, and we make the 2.5 mile hike to the shelter in no time. Here, Raph and Junie wait for us with a plethora of goodies he lugged up from the parking area a half a mile further. Beer, pizza, cinnamon rolls, champagne, camp chairs, and more are set up waiting for us. We hug and laugh and drink and eat. We are joined by my friends Daniel and Whitney. We share the goodies with a passing thru hiker. We enjoy the dry shelter as the rain persists. We recount our experiences along the ALT and I find myself being honest, but also trying to edit my words in a way that doesn’t imply that I don’t think anyone else should thru hike this trail. Quite the opposite. Even having finished with a sour taste in my mouth, I am hopeful that other hikers can find and experience this trail, and fall in love with it the same way I did.
This trail was challenging in a way that I have never experienced before. I am so glad to have it done. But also, I am so glad to have done it. In the moments of finishing, I have never been so proud that I hiked every mile of a trail, that we didn’t opt to skip any section, and that we made it through. I will continue to advocate for this trail and am eager to find ways to contribute and help it grow. It is my belief that with a little more public attention and a slight increase in hikers, the community will grow to a point that it will have the resources to live up to its potential. Having worked so closely with WVSTA, I can see how eagerly they are headed in that direction. The volunteers are passionate and excited, and I can see that it will only be a matter of time before these small problems are resolved.
If you have followed along on this hike and are interested in the Alleghney Trail, please don’t hesitate to contact me with questions. If you live in the area, I encourage you to explore HikeTheAlleghenyTrail.org and keep an eye out for trail maintenance events. WVSTA will be hosting the 50th anniversary celebration of the Allegheny Trail this September, and I look forward to returning for the event will all my paintings in tow (check out their website for details on this event).
Thanks for reading, and Happy Trails!