Maryland’s section of the Appalachian Trail is the perfect introduction for backpackers considering a thru-hike
THRU-HIKING IS A COLLECTION of small victories: getting up the day’s ascent, finding the water source before dark, enjoying the company of shelter-mates. And those able to stack enough of those victories, perhaps six months’ worth, sprinkled in with side quests, a handful of zero days, and a hiker festival or two, could end up walking the entire 2,190 miles of the Appalachian Trail.
“The beautiful thing about hiking is that life moves at the same pace whether you’re out there for an hour in your local park or deep in the backcountry for days on end,” says Katie “Oats” Houston, community manager for Sawyer Products and a contributing writer to The Trek. “If you’re a confident weekend warrior, you’ve likely got the skills to execute a thru-hike. For most folks, logistics is the limiting factor: money, time, or obligations back home. Section hiking is a great way to increase your confidence, comfort, and chances of success.”
Due to current responsibilities, hiking the entire A.T. is indeed still a dream on the distant horizon for me. But earlier this year, I decided to get a proper taste of the trail by hiking the entire section of the famous footpath that runs through Maryland. I did the reasonable 41-mile jaunt—right around the trail’s midpoint—with my old man to welcome his retirement, a passage to the next phase in life. Here’s a step-by-step guide to an attainable section hike that offers a perfect introduction to the A.T.
Pen Mar Park (Southbound Starting Point)
A.T. Mile Marker 1067.4/1285 feet
We were dropped at the PA/MD border on Pen Mar Road in early spring and pointed south towards Harper’s Ferry, W.Va. We had solar lights and down jackets hanging off our packs, way too much beef jerky, and a loose grip on what 1,000 feet of elevation gain in a single mile entails.
We planned for five nights to cover just over 40 miles. Plenty of folks could knock out 15-20 miles a day at a steady pace. One hiker, trail name The Optimist, bopped into camp as we were putting our sleeping bags down for the night and shared that he was on a 32-mile/day pace. But he didn’t scoff at our honest 8-mile average; he congratulated us on our journey as he nudged a half-eaten deli sandwich onto a campfire rock.
The voyage from Pen Mar to Raven Rock offers a condensed preview of what lies ahead. It eases in with a mile or so of wooded flatland, moseys through an eerily scenic boulder field, and ascends roughly 600 feet of incline over the course of a half mile. Take your time; the rocks aren’t going anywhere. Set a layer for the rest of your trip by lulling your pace to the boulders rather than forcing your way around them. Your breaths will get deep at times, but remember that’s part of the fun, even if you don’t see it that way until you’re back home.
Raven Rock Shelter
A.T. Mile Marker 1061.7/1066 feet
Pro tip: Sure, the name of the game is shedding weight, but if you’ve got somebody who doesn’t mind briefly being a mule, carry a bag of frozen beef, which will thaw during your first day on the trail and make for a well-deserved first-night camp meal.
The water source at Raven Rock is a deceivingly lengthy walk from camp. You’ll be tempted to relax on arrival, set up your tent, and take a load off. But I suggest you drop the weight of your pack and fuel up on water for the night while you’re still warmed up. Even if you’re tenting it, spend some time at the shelter around chow time to begin collecting stories and tips from fellow hikers.
Pogo Campsite
A.T. Mile Marker 1052.6/1607 feet
No fuss, no shelter. Pogo is a collection of beautifully dug-out tent sites and a privy. So if rain is to come, consider hoofing it to Pine Knob Shelter or cutting the day short at Ensign Cowall Shelter.
Here was our only bear encounter. “BEAR IN CAMP” rang through Pogo’s rigid tent sites. Everybody chimed in to not only warn but deter. It came just after sunrise, causing everyone to silently worry that they were the ones who hadn’t completely sealed their dinner trash from the night before. I’m not sure if it could smell something or just happened to be moseying through, but it didn’t pay us or our chants much attention. I appreciated that about him. He was young and likely used to being around hikers. He lived by the code, one foot in front of the other, and moved on within minutes.
Dahlgren Backpack Campground
A.T. Mile Marker 1043.9/1057 feet
As you cross over the I-70 footbridge, take a moment and watch the cars. I couldn’t help but wonder where they were all going and why they had to get there so quickly. After two days of your speed being one foot in front of the other, the running may suddenly feel silly. You’ll think back on all the rushing you’ve done or dread what rushing is to come. Either way, may your pace to the other side of the bridge be a reminder that no matter your speed, you’ll end up where you’re supposed to be.
“It takes at least four nights for what I call my ‘thought knots’ to start to untangle and for me to reach the mental state I really love when I’m out there for weeks on end,” Oats says.
Dahlgren is your clean site with a hot shower. Call up Rasco NY Pizza in Boonsboro. They’re a bit of trail magic in themselves in that they’ll deliver to the Old South Mountain Inn parking lot, which is not even a quarter mile from the Dahlgren Campground.
The ultimate vulnerability required to ask a stranger sitting on a curb for a slice of their pizza can only be found by running solely on oats and dreams. But that’s what the hike is all about—the kinship of shared self-induced suffering. The parking lot pizza is the trail’s magic way of pulling each of us closer to our internal finish lines, determined by miles and markers.
Rocky Run Shelter
A.T. Mile Marker 1042.1/950 feet
A near-0 day! Sleep in, take your time, clean your hiking clothes, and let them dry. A creek can be heard from the Rocky Run shelter. If you follow the footpath down to it, the “old shelter” is just up the hill. Maryland notoriously has some of the most well-kept shelters on the trail. But the old shelter is worth visiting, even if just for a nice quiet sit. Its stumpy stature overlooking the creek holds the essence of wooded huntsmen taking elbow-lifting pulls of XXX-labeled clear jugs.
Ed Garvey Shelter
A.T. Mile Marker 1033.0/1072 feet
This is your last night. Fill up on any food you’ve got left or offer it to a shelter-mate who is trekking on. Build a fire and make some friends before you go.
Harpers Ferry
A.T. Mile Marker 1026.6/280 feet
“One of my favorite trail sayings is HYOH – Hike Your Own Hike. People interpret that in different ways, but for me, it means to honor your own process,” says Oats. “Feel empowered to try new gear, honor your body, say ‘that’s not for me,’ and hike on when confronted by someone trying to cramp your style. Give yourself your own trail name, put smiles over miles, and remember there are many ways to engage with the trails we all love; thru-hiking is one of many.”
The fabric of the scenic West Virginia border town of Harpers Ferry is sewn together by hiker camaraderie and passion like a fireside patched 30L pack. Roughly 3,000 hikers attempt to thru-hike the Appalachian Trail each year, with about a quarter completing the feat. They will all pass through Harpers Ferry, whether for a zero-day, a cheeky beer at the Rabbit Hole, or just to bask in the mist coming off the Potomac River. If you’ve got the time, get a celebratory room and walk the stone streets.
All photos by the author
