6/25 & 6/26: Site North of Pine Grove Furnace State Park to Brook Before Alec Kennedy Shelter to Carlisle, Pennsylvania

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• 6/25: Miles 1106.4-1120.0 (17.6 mi.)
• Total ascent: 2441′; descent: 2641′

• 6/26: Miles 1120.0-1131.9 (11.9 mi.)
• Total ascent: 1201′; descent 1601′

Not all developed areas of the AT became so at the same time. Of the ones we’ve hiked so far, only is it clear in Pennsylvania how much existed prior to the trail. 

Only in Pennsylvania, surprisingly, have we walked through much crop land or by many homes. The trail was fit to existing parks and paths, rather than the other way around. Elsewhere, the terrain dictates where the trail goes much more so than property lines and roads. 

On one hand, it would be nice to walk more miles in the woods. Hiking in the exposed sun is hot and tiring, and some landowners are hostile to hikers (seen next to a Trump yard sign: “My dog can reach the fence in 2.8 seconds. Can you?”).

But it’s not all, or even mostly, bad: The trail goes by all sorts of little country stores, some of which point out that they preceded the trail, in Pennsylvania. We’ve had to carry only a day’s worth of food at a time, and we’ve had more cell service here than almost anywhere else on the trail. 

Part of the reason, both for the increased access to services and for the pre-existing developments, is that the area is so low. I doubt we’ve topped 1,000′ above sea level for the last three days; we’re currently below 500′. 

Pennsylvania reminds me a lot of Missouri. The muggy summer air and poison ivy, looking almost as if it’s hunting flesh, could be straight out of the forest where I grew up. The big-sky corn and soybean fields look just like those in central and northern Missouri. I see why many Amish and Mennonite communities from Pennsylvania resettled in Missouri. 

It is strange to feel more at home here than earlier on the trail, and even stranger to realize that it’s going to become less home-like again in the northeast (I’ve been warned more than once that Pennsylvania doesn’t qualify as a New England state, which is strange because William Penn was English gentry and was granted the colony by King Charles II — making it almost definitionally New England). 

Regardless, the Missouri-like trail has been a reprieve. We haven’t yet reached northern Pennsylvania, where it gets rockier, and we have no immediate reason to rush. In fact, to my great excitement, we’re meeting a former work colleague of mine for breakfast tomorrow. 

Mid-trail, more hikers (or a greater proportion of those who remain, at least) seem attuned to the importance of pacing. Virtually nobody night-hikes or brags about doing 20-mile days any more. I can’t remember the last shelter party I saw, or campfire still burning after the sun had set.

What that suggests to me is that Rachel and I are now among the serious contenders. We didn’t party ourselves out, or run ourselves ragged, or run out of money. We have found our footing on numerous, intersecting fine lines: exertion v. rest, indulgence v. privation, isolation v. socialization. 

The bigger picture, which I’m happy to see, is that Rachel and I actually are good and worthy stewards of our own lives. When we take control, we create outcomes that are at least as favorable to ourselves than when we serve other masters.

That isn’t to say others can’t help us, or that we shouldn’t welcome that help, but rather that merely being a piece in someone else’s plan is no way to live. Nobody is going to give us our dreams simply because we helped them realize theirs. 

I’m so happy to feel this way, and so happy I have half the trail left to show me how naive my self-confidence is. Whatever else happens, I’m determined to bring home a scrap of it.