HORSESHOE TRAIL HIKE

January 2004. Both of my backpacks are deficient. One is too flimsy for my moderately heavy load, and the other is too heavy for my moderately heavy load. I cannot get my pack weight down to a level that accommodates my shapeless, frameless Pound Plus Equinox pack. Conversely, my larger Gregory Shasta pack, at 6+ lbs is too heavy, and the cavernous interior encourages my packrat tendencies, which only adds weight.

I reevaluated my needs and considering my inexperience on the trail, I decided to err on the heavy side. In other words, I will take the Gregory Shasta on the Appalachian Trail and embark with too much stuff, but I will not know what “too much” is until I hike for a few weeks—or a few days. I hate myself, but I cannot decide what to leave out.

I will hike south to north, starting on Springer Mountain, Georgia February 29, 2004 (a great leap in a leap year). I will hike myself into shape. I assume the first days and weeks will be hell, but after that break-in period, everything should fall into place.

Today I am in Philadelphia where there is 5”-6” inches of fresh snow on the ground on top of hardened ice and snow from previous snowfalls this winter. I am hiking today because I want to test some equipment I have never used in the snow before, including my Nike Gortex boots and Marmot waterproof jacket.

I selected the Horseshoe Trail for my hike. The trailhead is on Yellow Springs Road in Valley Forge National Park about 50 yards from the covered bridge that crosses Valley Creek at the intersection with Route 252. There is a parking lot at the trailhead. The trail rises steeply for about ¾ mile until you reach the ridge that runs parallel to Valley Creek and Route 252. From there the trail runs west across Pennsylvania for 140 miles where it meets the Appalachian Trail, but on this day I was out for a short jaunt.

I was carrying 37 lbs including the Gregory pack, and to simulate the weight of 3-4 days of food supplies, 8 lbs of food and 2 pounds of water. The 37 pounds total included everything except the trekking poles and the clothes I was wearing. The temperature was 20 degrees with a light snow drizzle. The trail had some footprints left by earlier travelers, but for the most part, I was walking on virgin snow, unable to see what was underneath.

The first surprise came when I donned my pack. The pack was missing a hip-belt buckle. I knew the buckle was missing and I borrowed one from my other pack before I left, but when I attempted to fasten the belt, the buckles did not match. Stupid mistake; I should have tested them before I hit the trail. Now I had no choice but to hike without hip-belt support and I left the belt hanging loose on both sides. All of the weight was on my shoulders; not a good plan for a large pack designed to transfer weight to the hips, but I had no choice.

The ascent was tough. I am definitely out of shape and I had to stop on the way up to rest. It was a peaceful morning on the trail; very quiet and very beautiful with the landscape covered in snow. I hiked along for about a mile until I came to the trail register and I opened the box and signed the book.

I continued on the ridge until I came to a Y in the trail and I took the right fork that led down to Valley Creek. The descent was steeper than the ascent and the trekking poles came in handy as I gingerly walked down the side of the hill, careful to step on what appeared to be flat surfaces.

I heard a noise and I looked across the ravine hoping to spot a deer when my left foot slipped on the ice and I lost my balance. I reached out to grab the tree in front of me, but when I lunged forward I felt the weight of the pack swing my body outward and without anything to hold onto, I teetered over and fell sideways down the ravine. The first thing that hit was my hip—on a rock. The pain was excruciating, but I had other things to worry about. By that time, I was sliding down the ravine on my back, the weight of the pack acting like the keel on a sailboat. I could not right myself and all I could do was wave my arms and legs like an overturned turtle as I slalomed down the face of the hill. The pack caught on something and I stopped. I was wedged against a protruding boulder, but still on my back—or backpack. I caught my breath and looked around to get my bearings. The pack had a tenuous grip on the edge of the boulder and if it slipped off, I would slide to the bottom of the ravine where there was a crevice of frozen water. My weight would probably break through the ice; not good.

I decided to secure myself before I attempted to get out. I planted my trekking poles—thankfully still wrapped to my wrists—in the snow and dug in. The trekking poles acted as brakes and I was able to spin around, roll over and get up on my knees, and then to my feet. From there it was a matter of climbing back to the trail; a slow, slippery climb. I could not have made it out without the trekking poles. When I got back on the trail, I carefully walked down the switchbacks to Valley Creek and from there it was an easy hike back to the trailhead.

This was my first experience backpacking in the snow. After today, 2,167 miles seems longer.

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The next morning the pain in my hip was intense and I could not walk. (It took about a week to work through that, but my hip repaired itself.)

Comments

[Dewayne Mikkelson]

Great Entries!
Is this your first weblog?

I see that all of the entries are from today and I am not sure if you are moving them from another website or just putting them all in from your paper journals.

Great Goal to Hike the AT. I have considered that several times but I keep on getting married and tied down with jobs or other silly things.