[Bill Menke’s Journal for September 11-16, 2009. Appalachian Trail in New Jersey].

September 11. Dallas drops me off at the Appalachian Trail (AT) crossing on Route 284, in New Jersey just south of Unionville, New York at 7:30 AM. My plan is to hike to the Delaware Water Gap, or maybe just beyond it. This is the same spot where I had ended my spring hike, which had begun further north along the AT, in Harriman State Park, NY. Rain has been falling, heavy at times, but for the moment it has stopped. I don my backpack and start out.

This section of the trail is through low woods, open overgrown meadows decorated with goldenrod and Queen Anne’s Lace and hay fields. The ground is rocky. Light rain begins to fall, but with my hat and the exertion, I stayed quite dry. I pass one stretch of trail where a windstorm has knocked over a stand of tall trees. They are all now on the ground, pointing north. I startle a flock of turkeys as I cross Clark road. They dart back into the woods as I approach. The AT is pretty flat and gentle here. It parallels a small stream, crossing it several times via wooden foot bridges. Some sections are pretty boggy and have puncheon (bog bridges). The rain strengthens, and I don my red rain coat. A through-hiker, dressed in yellow raingear, passes me, heading south.

After crossing Route 519, the trail ascends Kittatinny Mountain, a long north-south striking ridge that extends all the way to the Delaware Water Gap. The trail first runs along a low section of the ridge, crosses a nice stream where red flowers were blooming, and finally reaches High Point Shelter, which has its own two little streams. The shelter has stone walls and a roof supported by very thick beams. I change into dry clothes, fire up my MSR stove and have lunch. It’s 1:30 PM, and I have hiked for about six hours, and I am cold and tired. I take a nap. A day hiker comes by at about 6PM and we chat. He has visited the shelter six years ago and fondly inspects it. It hasn’t changed much. I eat dinner, preparing a package of dehydrated stew that is left over from Dallas’ New Zealand trip. I slept the night in the shelter.

September 12. The temperature is 52 degrees F when I awake at 7:20 AM – rather too cold for late summer! It’s misty and the trees are dripping but no rain is falling. I eat breakfast of rice and coffee, pack my gear and head off. The trail ascends to a high point on the ridge that sports an elaborate wooden observation deck. Unfortunately, it’s too foggy to see anything. Bare rock pavement is exposed along the trail here, the tough Shawangunk conglomerate, which here is a lighter color and smaller clasts than on Bellvale Mountain, where I hike in the spring. The trail occasionally descends down below the ridge crest and passes impressive vertical, east-facing cliffs. I pass many red elf salamanders, brought out by the damp conditions. Many are sitting in oddly conspicuous positions, such as on the tops of rocks or logs. I try to photograph one, but it tough, for my camera’s autofocus does not seem to like red-colored subjects.

I take a longish side trail down to Rutherford Shelter, descending a long, sloping rock pavement, crossing a small stream and coming across the shelter’s spring in the process. The shelter is in a wide clearing and has a satellite dish on top. I stop for a quick snack and then continue on. I am somewhat disappointed with my progress and try to quicken my pace. I count strides to try to develop a rhythm. I reach Mashipacong Shelter at stride 3,000, which I suppose amounts to about three miles. This shelter is right on the AT, shortly after the Route 650 crossing. I have lunch here: sausage, a granola bar and GaitorAide. I then continue on for a longish stretch of five or six miles to reach Gren Anderson Shelter, where I plan to stay the night. I pass a small stream flowing through what seems to be hand-dug channel through the rock. It flows out of a marsh area to the east and has been dammed by beaver. The trail continues to follow the ridge, and ascends to a high point called Sunrise Mountain. I stop at an overlook with a bench that looks east. The day has cleared enough that I can see the rolling hills to the east. An elaborate stone pavilion has been constructed on the summit. It commands a 360 degree view.

Continuing on, I pass a section of trail littered with porcupine quills. I suppose that a porcupine encountered a predator here, yet I can see no trace of blood. I pick up a quill and examine it. It is quite flexible, yet tapers to an extremely fine point that can easily stab through a leaf. I pass an area where I suspect some sort of mine workings. There’s a deep depression in the ground, perhaps six feet deep and twenty feet wide, and nearby there is rocky mound that could possibly be tailings. The trail then passes through a boggy section where the underbrush is taller and more vividly green. It’s getting late and I am worried that I have missed the turnoff for the shelter, but finally come to the side trail leading to it. I arrive at Gren Anderson Shelter at 5:30 PM, having hiked 13 miles today. One through-hiker is already there, and three more arrive shortly after I do. One gives me half of a ham sandwich that he has purchased at a deli on the Route 206 crossing. I offer him one of my GaitorAide pack in return, but he declines. I decide to stay in my tent tonight, and set it up a short distance away from the shelter. I set up a clothes line and hang my wet clothes out to dry, though I doubt that they will dry much in the damp air. I filter water from a little spring downhill of the shelter and make dinner. I chat a bit with the through-hikers and then head to bed at 8PM.

September 13. It’s overcast by dry this morning. I have breakfast of rice and coffee, pack and head south. I’m the last to leave the shelter. Soon the sky clears remarkably. I pass very nice view points where I can look west towards the Delaware Valley (though I cannot see the river, itself) and where I can look east towards central New Jersey. I pass Culvers Lake, far below me to the east. I pass Culvers Fire Tower. Some people are camped near its base, in a large car-camping type tent. I then descend into Culvers Gap, where the AT crosses Route 206. I pass through hemlock groves where the soil is damp and covered with fern. I spot a small garder snake. I then ascend back to the ridge. I stop at a rocky area where the views are very nice and have a snack. The trail is damp here, and toads and red elf salamanders abound. I take a side trail westward, down to Brink Road Shelter. It is a small, log-cabin affair. I hunt for its spring, which is located fairly far downhill from the shelter, and refill my water bottles. The day has become sunny and pretty hot! I then head towards Rattlesnake Mountain, another especially high section of the ridge from which there are good views.

I am planning to camp on the ridge where water is scarce and have been careful to keep my water bottles full. Still, I am worried that I will not have enough for both dinner and breakfast. I stop at a small boggy stream inhabited by many frogs. Its waters are rather brown. I set up my stove and boil a liter, make some hot cocoa, and drink it while walking. I then make my last push towards the campground. I wind up crossing another stream, bigger than the previous one and crossed by a footbridge. Its water looks rather brown, too. I finally arrive at the intersection with the Buttermilk Falls Trail, where the campground is located. Its marked by a large rock cairn and is a very beautiful spot. I pick out a grassy grotto, next to a large rock ledge that will serve as a table. The stove is finicky tonight, and I have to futz with it to get it going, but I finally succeed in making rice and beans for my dinner and some coffee. Each takes a half liter of water to prepare.

September 14. The morning began sunny but only a few ray made it through the trees. I had to move gear around from sunny spot to sunny spot to try to dry off the dew. I ate breakfast, packed and headed south. I climbed a sloping rock pavement, scattered with gnarled pines and shrubs brightly lit in the morning sun, up to the ridge crest to a vantage where I could look west. Fog filled several of the valleys. I then started my search for water, for my breakfast had consumed my second liter. My path took me above Crater Lake. At first I could find only overlooks above steep grades that offered no access to the lake. Then I came across a woods road that headed down towards the lake. I took it, and in about 100 yards came to a trail that descended down to the lake. It is in a deep bowl, a beautiful blue lake boarded with trees and rock outcrops, with cross-bedded sediments on one rock wall. I pumped water while sunfish looked on curiously.

A little past the lake, I came across an open are strewn with angular boulders. Just a few trees grew up between the rocks but no grass of shrubs. A small circular marshy area is in the center of the clearing. I then headed up onto a ridge that afforded views mostly to the east.

The trail then descends down to the Millbrok-Blairstown Road crossing. A little past it, I came upon a wonderful beaver pond, with one side abutting a talus slope of a hill and the other, which I suppose must be some sort of dam, stopping just short of a steep drop-off. The pond is covered with water lilies and edged with marsh grass and a few fall-red shrubs. A beaver lodge is built in the middle of the lake. Fantastic!

I climbed two-thirds of the way up Catfish Fire Tower for the 360 degree view of the ridge. The view was spectacular in the clear air. The narrowness of the ridge is really apparent from that vantage. I made good time along the ridge and then descended a long and steep downgrade to reach the AMC’s Mohecan Outdoor Center, where I decided to stay the night. It has a lodge and a campground. I paid twelve dollars to camp and another three for a hot shower. I set up camp and took a tour. The area has a gorgeous wetland, Beaver Swamp, full of fall-red maples and shrubs and a beautiful lake, Catfish Pond (which has a beaver dam). The lodge has a nicely decorated common room, with a large fireplace and walls decorated with ancient cross-country skis and snowshoes. I took my shower and relaxed for a while and then made dinner – pasta and salmon. When the sun set at the unreasonably early hour of 5:30 PM, I realized that my wristwatch had lost two hours without my noticing. Today’s hike had taken longer than I had realized!

September 15, 2009. I have a short day today, just six miles. I leave the Mohecan Outdoor Center after a breakfast of rice. The climb back up onto the ridge is steep and rocky. I cross a nice stream via a wooden foot bridge. This part of the ridge mainly has views to the east, but the day is rather hazy and the vistas are not as striking as yesterday’s. The ridge ascends and narrows, not to a knife edge, but rather to a grassy strip the width of a road, with oaks sparsely growing on shoulders that steeply rolled off down to the ridge flanks. I started to find spots where I could see the Delaware River, to the west. I reached an open spot to find a half-dozen birders, with telescopes and cameras, gather around a rock cairn watching the fall migration of hawks to South America. They were using a plastic owl on a pole to attract the hawks. One of the birders pointed out a broad-winged hawk to me, floating high above in the sky. The view here of the Delaware is very nice.

The land then widened out and the trail dropped just a little to a wetter region with much taller trees. After a while I came to Sunfish Pond, which is of glacial origin (or so says a plaque at the pond’s south end). I has lunch at the north end, sitting on a grassy spot along the lake shore, watching frogs climb on logs beached in the shallows. I then walked along the lakeshore. The going was tough, for the trail here is very rocky. I pumped three liters of water at the outflow, having converted my instant coffee container into a third water bottle, for I didn’t expect to encounter more water till the following morning. I then headed up to Backpackers Campsite Number 2 (though actually, Number 1 is defunct), about a mile from the Lake. I pitched camp by an overlook where I hoped I would be able to see the sunset. I relaxed for several hours, for I had arrived in mid-afternoon. My sight was over-flown twice by a large autonomous airplane that looked as though it had an eight-to-ten foot wingspan. It made only a steady hum – much quieter than the typical model airplane. I took a short walk around. The area has many nice grassy spots suitable for pitching a tent, among well-separated trees. It has a privy, bear boxes and bear racks. The later are beams with hooks strung horizontally between two trees; I had used similar ones two years before in Yellowstone Park. One was near my tent site and I hung my food and knapsack from it. I discovered a little stream on my stroll, adjacent to the campground, on the south side of a trail blazed in blue that descended to the west. I had unnecessarily carted extra water to the camp site, but better safe than sorry! I ate a dinner of rice and ham, drank coffee and watched the sunset.

September 16. It’s rather chilly and overcast this morning. I cook rice for breakfast, pack and head south, down the mountain. The trail follows an old woods road that is rather too rocky. The road has exposed the rock pavement, some of which bears glacial scratches. The trail then parallels Dunnfield Creek, which runs in a steep gorge just east of the trail. I spend quite a while near the intersection of the AT with a trail blazed in blue which crosses the creek via a wooden footbridge and heads west. A sequence of two beautiful little waterfalls is located a little upstream of the bridge. I climb down to them and poke around, looking at the plants and at the rock strata. In addition to the waterfalls, there are several swimming holes, one created by a impromptu rock dam and another that is a naturally-scoured deep spot. Predictably, No Swimming signs are posted. I meet two anglers, fly-fishing for trout. The trail leads to Interstate 80 and the National Park Service Visitors Center. I pass it by for the present, and walk along the Delaware River, crossing it via the I80 highway bridge (which is very noisy) into Pennsylvania. I walk through a little town that is quite empty of people, except for two men in suits going door-to-door who I take for Mormon missionaries. I reenter the woods and pass a lily pond and a small shrine in memory of a man, Sean A. Dolan, who died young. The trail follows the Delaware River, at an elevation of a couple hundred feet above river level. Most of the trail is heavily wooded, so the views are not so good. This section of trail has rhododendron, the first that I’ve seen on my hike. I cross the Eureka creek, ascend a steep section of trail, and reach Lookout Point, a rock ledge that affords a great view of the Delaware Water Gap. I rest there for a while, drinking some GaitorAide, and then head back. My southward journey is over.

I retrace my steps to the Visitors Center. I first clean up a little on a little beach on the shores of the Delaware River, washing myself and changing my shirt and socks. I chat with two park rangers in the Center. I ask them about the autonomous airplane. They say that it’s operated by a local club that has an airfield just west of the park, and is not government surveillance. They ask if I’ve seen any large animals on my hike, and upon reflection, I realize that I’ve seen none at all, not even white tail deer, which are so abundant in New York. The biggest mammal I’ve seen was a squirrel (and only a few of those), and big birds such a turkeys, turkey vultures and, by the Delaware River, a Great Blue Heron. I then wait in the picnic pavilion for Dallas to pick me up, making coffee.

Distances: AT from Unionville NY to the Delaware River, 50.4 miles; AT from the Delaware River to Lookout Rock in Pennsylvania, 3.0 miles round trip; excursions down side trails (mostly to shelters), 2.0 miles, for a total of 55.4 miles over 6 days.