The hype about Rocksylvania began for me before we even set foot on trail. Somehow, the notorious rocky trails permeated the minds and thoughts of even those who’d never hiked the Appalachian Trail.
The rocks, the rocks, people cried. The rocks will bruise your feet and turn your ankles and steal your resolve to live.
Perhaps I am being a bit dramatic. But, we learned, so were they.
We stayed the night at the 501 shelter. Sami’s leg had been hurting a bit and we’d been taking a couple slower days hoping to heal it up. It would make us a little late for our next restock but the 501 was right next to a road and a local pizza place would deliver to the parking lot. The pizza and wings gave us just enough food to save our remaining food and make the restock.
The 501 is known for another reason: the start of the rocks.
Because of Sami’s continued sore leg and since we didn’t know quite what to expect with this upcoming section, we decided to plan for slower days between the 501 and Delaware Water Gap (aka, the end of the rocks and Pennsylvania). As we set off that first morning, I was excited. Boulders, people had said, awaited us.
I love boulders.
Granted, boulders are much harder with a full backpack than when I’d be running around as a day hiker. But still, boulders almost always make for a good day.
Unfortunately there were no boulders that day. Nor that many rocks. There were definitely patches of rocks, some sections longer than what we’ve experienced on other parts of the trail, but not at all bad.
Huh, I thought. I guess the bad part starts tomorrow.
And so I kept thinking, day after day.
Don’t get me wrong. There were rocks of all sizes scattered across the trail. There were sections where the trail disappeared into piles of rocks that you had to scramble over, balance on, hop to. There were tiny rocks embedded in the rock, sharp like dragon’s teeth. There were sections, miles long, where the trail was uneven, rough, rocky, and yes, a bit miserable.
But these were always sections. On either side of these sections were long, flat ridgelines bookended by short ascents and descents. My hiking boots protected my feet and ankles well. The green tunnel is in full force here, and the few views we have been getting have been seemingly unimpressive: small mountains dotted by towns, always the sound of a highway or airplanes in the background.
The rough mountains I was expecting were tame and civilized, the touch of people never far away.
Three days from the end of Pennsylvania, I finally admitted that I was unimpressed with the state. “There haven’t been enough challenges,” I said. “I haven’t walked into camp recently and thought, oh yes, I did good. I did something worth writing home about.“
PA heard me. That afternoon, we had the climb out of Leigh Gap and Palmerton.
Let me paint the picture for you. It’s 2 pm, hot, the sun is shining directly on you. There’s no water for 17 miles so you have 4-6 liters of water. You just restocked in town, so your backpack is heavy. The incline stretches up before you and you pace yourself. The rocks get more and more. Suddenly you look up and see the rock going straight up.
You tuck away your trekking poles as you realize this is less a hiking trail and more a rock scramble. Rock scramble? As you clamber further up, the rocks get steeper and steeper. Rock climb, you decide, even though actual rock climbers would laugh at your definition.
I could only laugh. “Pennsylvania, my dear,” I told her. “I underestimated you.”
That night, I threw out my mat on the ridgeline and cowboy camped. As I watched the sky, a shooting star sped past overhead.
Sami’s leg didn’t get better despite the rest, and turned into a case of shin splints. With that, she made the decision to pull off trail for a couple of days to let it heal up and visit a cousin living nearby. When she’s feeling back to herself, she’ll join us again and continue hiking north. After Katahdin, she’ll finish up the last couple miles of Pennsylvania.
Tomorrow we’ll be heading into New Jersey and then a couple days after that, New York. 900 miles of trail are left, and it looks like we’ll be climbing out of the long, flat ridgelines into a more sporadic section.
But I’m excited: challenges are why I’m out here. I can’t wait to see what challenges we have next.
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