The 501 and Eckville shelters鈥� days could be numbered. Earlier this year, the National Park Service announced plans to demolish the two well-known Pennsylvanian Appalachian Trail shelters by the end of 2026 or early 2027 as part of a push to dispose of 鈥渘onconforming infrastructure.鈥� Now, the is establishing a special committee to save the iconic AT pit stops.

The Eckville shelter (mile 1235) in is known for its fully-enclosed design, which creates enhanced protection during inclement weather. Hikers often refer to the 501 shelter (mile 1196) as the 鈥減izza shelter,鈥� because its location allows users to order pizza directly to it. Both shelters feature unusual amenities like solar showers and even flush toilets at Eckville shelter.

While the NPS has owned the two properties since 1985, they鈥檙e both predominantly managed by local trail organizations. Many of the upgrades that the shelters have seen in recent years were made by BMECC. Each property also has a caretaker, who isn鈥檛 employed by the NPS.

Ann Simonelli, Director of Communications for the , explained that plans have been in place to demolish the shelters for several years for a few different reasons. The shelters are considered 鈥渘onconforming鈥� structures since they鈥檙e both located close to motorized access points. They also 鈥渄o not fall within modern NPS housing, volunteer, and visitor use policies,鈥� said Simonelli.

One of the difficulties that the owners of the shelters face is liability for injuries that could result from disrepair of the buildings, Jim Barnett, President Pro Tem of BMECC told Backpacker. But the organization still hopes to forestall the demolitions. A direct sale between the NPS and local land managers isn鈥檛 possible due to federal regulations, and a 鈥渓and swap鈥� (which would involve trading one piece of property for another) is possible but likely unrealistic due to time constraints.

Instead, BMECC is looking to 鈥漡arner a grassroots effort from those who value the shelters to pressure the NPS to change their decision to demolish them and continue the relationship where we partner in keeping them viable,鈥� said Barnett.

As of right now, both shelters are likely to be demolished sometime between the end of next year and the beginning of the following one. Nearby designated camping areas in the region are still slated to remain open.

Those who are in favor of saving the shelters not only point to the historical and cultural significance of the structures, but also the logistical challenges that would arise amidst the loss of the structures. Barnett explained that removing the 501 shelter from the Appalachian Trail would create a 19-mile gap between trail shelters, while the loss of Eckville shelter would create a 16.5-mile gap between shelters in rocky, aggressive terrain, leaving some hikers struggling to travel the extra distance.

鈥淭he shelters provide good options for section and thru-hikers,鈥� Barnett said. 鈥淭hey offer protection from bad weather and amenities camping areas don鈥檛. Protection from severe storms鈥攚hich seem to be worsening because of climate change鈥攃annot be overstated.听聽Additionally, caretakers give great advice and receive valuable information about trail conditions, safety issues and other hiker concerns.鈥�

Some local community members support the use of structures like the 501 and Eckville shelters because they help to concentrate human impact into a relatively small area to support Leave No Trace practices, in addition to creating a social hub and a safe haven for those facing foul weather.

Mick Charowsky, the Eckville shelter鈥檚 current caretaker, 鈥渉as been there for over 30 years and plans to stay as long as viable,鈥� said Barnett.

鈥淏ecause [the shelters] are close to the road, caretakers living at nearby caretaker residences are a necessity to assure that these are only for backpackers and not mistreated by other parties curious about the premises,鈥� he added. 鈥淲e were the only trail-maintaining club that opted to take this responsibility when the NPS wanted to remove properties. There is a cost for the club, caretakers, and NPS to maintain healthy shelters and caretaker residences.鈥� As long as the NPS keeps the shelters open, Barnett said, the BMECC plans to continue running them.

Even so, not everyone in the BMECC committee agrees that fighting to save the shelters is worth the organization鈥檚 effort.

鈥淪ome feel that our club resources could be used better elsewhere,鈥� Barnett said. 鈥淥thers feel that the benefit for section and thru-hikers is why we exist and are worth the cost.鈥�

For hikers who found a home for the night at one of the shelters, their imminent closure has struck a blow. On a Facebook post announcing the news earlier this year, past thru-hikers commented that the water at the 501 shelter was a 鈥�,鈥� and that demolishing the structures would be a 鈥渟hame for the hiking community.鈥�

The post The Appalachian Trail鈥檚 Legendary 鈥楶izza Shelter鈥� Is Facing Demolition. This Hiking Group Hopes to Save It. appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

The good news is that you can now see the Nolichucky River sooner.

Since my first thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail in 2019, I鈥檝e often thought about a cliff edge just above Erwin, Tenn., where the woods open to reveal the Nolichucky rushing from a gorge below. It is one of the AT鈥檚 pure postcard moments, a spot for which I even advocated . More than once, I鈥檝e seen it in my dreams.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I was dropping into Erwin along the AT in April and saw the wide brown river roaring through the valley floor nearly a half-mile ahead of that memorable vista. I shouldn鈥檛 have been shocked: In the last 140 miles since leaving Newfound Gap in I had seen hundreds of ways that Hurricane Helene had altered the trail. So many trees had fallen between where I stood and Erwin that less of them simply blocked the view. It was gorgeous, and it was sad.

But that was, after all, why I was there, to see how the trail had changed and was still changing after Helene. Before the flood waters even receded from Western North Carolina and Eastern Tennessee last fall, handwringing about the state of the trail in 2025 and the concomitant thru-hiking season were rampant. In the days after the catastrophe, I saw videos about how 500 miles of the trail were 鈥渙bliterated鈥� and read reports about how people intended to forego the AT in years to come.

In the months since, though, I had read very little about how the trail was doing and how passable it might be come spring. I lived for many years along the parts of the trail that Helene hit hardest and consider the area one of the country鈥檚 most wondrous expanses. So I asked the trail family I formed back in 2019 if they wanted to have a reunion, to walk 140 miles together and see how our old friend was faring. Two said yes鈥攎y wife, Tina, and our best friend, Ben. They joined me for the first three days, or until we reached Hot Springs, NC. I continued to Erwin solo, hoping to cross the Nolichucky and then go home.

So how is the AT right now? The short answer: As of April 2025, the AT in the Southern states is like a horrific multi-car pileup on the interstate that happened hours ago, just long enough that the wreckage has been moved to the side of the road to allow for cars to pass. The way is mostly clear, but the work is far from done. The very long answer follows, in the form of my trail diary for those six days.

Wednesday, April 2 (Northbound Mile 208.0鈥�223.7)

On a northbound trek of the AT, there鈥檚 no early landmark as critical as Newfound Gap, on the Tennessee border. When hikers reach it, they鈥檝e arrived at their third state line, crossed the 200-mile mark, and passed the halfway point of one of the journey鈥檚 most arduous stretches through Great Smoky Mountains National Park. The weather can be terrible, the climbs severe, the resources limited. At Newfound Gap, folks often hitch northwest down U.S. 441, toward their first day off in Gatlinburg, Tenn. Some get lost in that tourist trap town and never return to trail.

Newfound Gap, then, felt like the natural start of our journey. After reading so much about and consternation about whether or not the season would happen, I knew it would offer an instant read on the trail and how Helene had changed people鈥檚 plans. Would there be hikers there at all?

Before we could even park the car, we saw two of our kind鈥攁 tandem ripping open Priority Mail boxes of groceries atop a stonework fence and stuffing them into their already-swollen Hyperlite packs. Tourists stopping for pictures at the cloud-shrouded pass peppered them with questions about when they had started and when they might finish. Elsewhere, families posed with a sign that read, 鈥淜atahdin Maine 1972.0,鈥� grinning like that was the silliest fact they鈥檇 ever seen. Yes, it seemed, thru-hiking season was on.

Our original itinerary involved an ambitious first day: 23 miles from Newfound Gap to Cosby Knob Shelter, with several thousand feet up and back down. But a park ranger had warned us against it: A five-mile expanse of fallen trees had slowed even the , the trained professionals who shuttle along the trail to (sometimes overzealously) educate hikers about safety and Leave No Trace practices. 鈥淵ou should do a shorter day, 15 miles,鈥� she said. 鈥淪pend the night at Tri-Corner Knob.鈥� We agreed, deferring to the expert.

Perhaps it was the sheer adrenaline of three thru-hikers reuniting on the AT, but we soon knew we鈥檇 make our destination long before sundown. We raced through the first 10 miles, the air perfectly cool as the clouds closed in tight on the thin ridges the trail follows through the Smokies. The trees on trail first seemed like a nonissue, only slightly worse than any other year. There were a few blowdowns and freshly busted logs, their splinters cast across the trail like confetti. A few dead trees were suspended high above the trail, too鈥攖oo high for a saw to get, a problem for the future. Maybe twice during those first 10 miles, we had to navigate somewhat tricky sets of blowdowns by stepping a few feet off trail, climbing down and then up to avoid some imposition. Still, if it slowed our pace, I didn鈥檛 notice.

It was the wind that finally made the peril clear. All day long, the breeze was intense, even blowing the usually surefooted Tina off a rock and to her knees. A half-dozen times, the wind gusted, and we noticed the earth heave from the trail, gaps of several inches sometimes appearing near our feet. Just below the catwalks we traversed, dozens of trees had been lifted out of the ground on all sides but one, a quarter of their root balls clinging on for dear arboreal life. As the wind roared and they swayed, you could watch their connection get evermore tenuous, like a piece of wire you repeatedly bend until it breaks. These were not our problem at the moment, but after a few severe summer thunderstorms, they would become a hazard for other hikers. It wasn鈥檛 hard to imagine the AT sliding off the face of, say, Raven or Katalsta ridges.

When we reached our shelter around 5 p.m., we again saw that thru-hiking season was indeed on. Tri-Corner Knob has two wide sleeping levels, meaning it can hold two-dozen hikers each night. The park prefers that thru-hikers stay in shelters to minimize impact and bear encounters. Folks had started claiming space for the night three hours earlier, hoping to escape the wind and threat of rain, and we were the last three to find some room that wasn鈥檛 just the ground. People traded tales of their first 200 miles like baby stories, proudly detailing the origins of their trail names or what gear they鈥檇 already sent home. Every now and again, someone would pass a video of a tree 鈥測awning鈥� in the day鈥檚 wind鈥攖hat is, the roots separating from the soil. It was wild to see, maybe even funny, but I couldn鈥檛 help but wonder how much post-Helene damage had still yet to manifest itself, more than six months after the storm had passed.

Thursday, April 3 (Northbound Mile 223.7鈥�244.1)

Boy, did I eat it.

When you leave the Smokies, you drop 3,500 feet in less than 7 miles, setting up a racecourse of sorts to Standing Bear Farm, a famously rowdy hostel with fridges full of cold beer for hikers who have just endured one of the AT鈥檚 great gauntlets. I love elevation changes in either direction, so I was locked in with the work of my quads as I began the great descent. And then, the sensation of my ankle twisting too far to the left jolted me from that flow, followed in short order by the thud of my body hitting the ground.

After more than 11,000 miles of hiking, I believe , able to reorient myself just before impact. But this year, the AT鈥攆orever and always, a series of roots and rocks stretching out to trip you like the feet of a grade-school bully鈥攆eels different. Just yesterday, Tina, who once patrolled these woods as a park ranger, called it 鈥渏unky.鈥� The water moved so fast during Helene that the roots and rocks now feel more ubiquitous, making each step a negotiation. That鈥檚 compounded by shattered logs and fallen branches, debris too small (or too new) for any trail crew to fix. The trail simply seems more hazardous right now, and my ankle wanted a brief word鈥攚ith me or with the trail, I can鈥檛 really say.

This morning, at least, the obstacles were a little more conspicuous. When we left the shelter, the clouds still cloaked the ridges, reducing visibility to a few hundred yards. But it didn鈥檛 take much to see the graveyards of trees that lined and occasionally still covered the AT. Only an hour into the day, we encountered a section where a hundred trees seemed to have fallen in a few hundred yards. Some leaned cattywampus across the trail, root ball and all, while others jutted shattered-end first onto the treadpath like swords. Climbing up, over, and through a thicket of damage, I caught a shin on several branches that had turned into natural shivs and spent the rest of the day trickling blood from my war wounds.

The ranger鈥檚 warning that this would slow us down, though, felt like a cautionary dose of old-fashioned AT fearmongering; this looked like fallout from meteorological microbursts, not the aftereffects of a sustained storm marching up the trail. The larger concern, once again, were the trees alongside the trail whose roots had largely been ripped from earth and now pointed down the mountain, ready to slide given the right squall. We made a sport of climbing into some of the city-bus-size craters those hulks had left behind.

Just before you begin the big drop that leads out of the Smokies, there is a final steep climb, like the last boss of the video game, from an intersection with the aptly named Low Gap Trail to the top of Mount Cammerer. It was the day鈥檚 most dangerously mangled expanse, with a dozen trees and innumerable branches crowding an already-thin bit of trail bordered by a rather precipitous drop. In 2,200 miles, the AT offers little in the way of rock-scrambling, but this felt like tree-scrambling, as I held onto branches while looking for places to plant my feet.

Just as I made it over the last hurdle, I spied a , three pale yellow flowers balanced above three brilliantly speckled leaves. A few miles later, I met a hiker from Indiana who, while taking a smoke break, spotted two morels, some of the first of the season. 鈥淭hese won鈥檛 be showing up at home for a few weeks,鈥� he said, holding them in the palm of his hand. 鈥淚t鈥檚 cool to be here. I鈥檓 going to try to go all the way.鈥� He鈥檇 have more logs to climb than I did in 2019, but I assured him he could, then headed north again.

Friday, April 4 (Northbound Mile 244.1鈥�267.8)

Soon after I turned 21, I participated in a collegiate bacchanalia called the Hillsborough Hike. It was an end-of-semester bar crawl for students at N.C. State, all stumbling from one end of our university鈥檚 main drag to another. I don鈥檛 remember how the night ended, but I do remember my phone waking me up sometime early the next afternoon. I was four hours late for my Saturday morning record-store shift, but I was there, green and groggy, 15 minutes later.

鈥淕rayson! Well, how the hell are ya?鈥� the store鈥檚 owner, Mike Phillips, said to me with a smirk later that afternoon. 鈥淚 heard you were out a little late, son.鈥� Twenty years later, the tone of voice he used that day still stings from memory.

Imagine my terror, then, when I heard the exact same sound a mile south of , one of the most iconic balds in the Southern Appalachians and arguably the most beautiful place in all of North Carolina. 鈥淕rayson! Is that you?鈥� a man in a tennis ball-colored shirt exclaimed from beneath the low brim of a baseball cap. 鈥淲hat the hell are you doing, son? Are you doing this shit again?鈥�

It was, indeed, Mike Phillips, who retired long ago from record-store life to manage triathlons and eventually join the , a largely volunteer-powered nonprofit that maintains 94 miles of the AT. I鈥檇 actually been thinking about Mike all morning, wondering if he was responsible for any of the sawdust I鈥檇 seen on trail. Not long after we slipped out of last night鈥檚 creekside campsite, I began to notice that the trees that had fallen on the trail had been cut so recently that the air still smelled like pine or poplar. Deep Gap had looked like a log graveyard, pines spilling across and above and alongside the trail in every direction. But the trees had been bullied aside enough to make room for whoever passed that way. Thanks, Mike and friends.

鈥淚t hasn鈥檛 been too bad,鈥� said Ron, the first member of the Carolina Mountain Club I saw that morning, minutes before I encountered Mike. He鈥檇 put down his axe (labeled 鈥淩ON鈥�) to cut a little rut for runoff, hoping to prevent more topsoil from washing far below the trail. 鈥淚t will get really bad when you get just south of Erwin, though. For every one tree left standing, you鈥檒l see 20 that are down.鈥�

All two-dozen members of the Carolina Mountain Club I saw in a 2-mile stretch were digging in the dirt. Mike was shoveling a rut like Ron. Two other men sat directly in the trail, cutting errant roots with oversized shears. That was a good sign, as Mike told me: 鈥淲e just finished clearing our 94 miles of trail of trees. There were a lot,鈥� he told me. Now it was time to tend to the trail itself, to manicure and maintain it like they would do every year.

Our trio rendezvoused on Max Patch in time for lunch, the bald rimmed perfectly by stratus clouds in every direction. As we ate, families crisscrossed the mountaintop, easily accessible from a parking lot a mile below, while two young lovers made out on a picnic blanket. A string of thru-hikers said hello as they ambled past. And when we finally left, we ran into four men in their early 30s鈥攁ll wearing all-camouflage everything, like they鈥檇 just raided an Army surplus store鈥攚ho were a day away from finishing their first section of the AT. 鈥淲e鈥檝e loved it,鈥� one of them said. 鈥淚鈥檝e never done anything like this.鈥�

We made camp that night in a grove of rhododendron bushes, having climbed 6,000 feet and descended 6,000 feet in 23 miles. The sun had set long before we sat down to eat in a semicircle amongst our tents. It struck us how normal our day had seemed, how much of it mirrored what we鈥檇 done on our first AT thru-hike. In fact, the whole day鈥攆rom the trail crew tending to the dirt to the section hikers who seemed so supercharged by their new hobby, from our big miles to the long lunch in the sun鈥攆elt like it was trending toward normalcy, a welcome commodity on the AT in 2025.

Except seeing Mike. That was weird.

Saturday, April 5 (Northbound Mile 267.8鈥�281.1)

A decade ago, turned me into an AT hiker. It was June 2014, my first wedding anniversary. I鈥檇 started running to shed pounds for the ceremony and accidentally become obsessed with endurance. The idea of climbing mountains had become a long-distance daydream. So when Tina and I found ourselves in a remote cabin near Hot Springs, NC, one of the few towns the trail bisects, we had to get on the AT, on top of its old mountains. On our last day there, we climbed into a dirty van outside of Bluff Mountain Outfitters for a nauseating, hairpin shuttle to the top of Max Patch, then hiked 23 miles back to town. It felt like climbing K2. Four years later, we moved to Hot Springs; a year after that, we thru-hiked the AT.

It felt like a personal tragedy, then, seeing Bluff Mountain Outfitters on the national news, its rugged old brick frame ripped open by the rise and rush of Spring Creek, just feet away. It also made me worry for budding thru-hikers, since it鈥檚 an essential depot for supplies and intel from Wayne Crosby, who landed in Hot Springs after bailing on his own AT trek decades ago. How would newbies fare without him?

Turns out, they wouldn鈥檛. After a gargantuan breakfast at the steadfast Smoky Mountain Diner, which rode out the storm like biscuits atop a raft of gravy, I was shocked to see the Bluff Mountain Outfitters insignia atop the old library building. I was more surprised to see how fresh and inviting it was inside, the cramped but lovable old store transformed into an airy space chockablock with more shoes and hiking food than I remembered at the former location. Crosby showed me how little bits of the old building, likely slated to be demolished, had been incorporated into the architecture鈥攖he salvaged counter used for storage, the rescued dressing room door. He鈥檇 spent the winter building this new space and reopened only in mid-March, just in time to usher the Class of 2025 northward. He exuded the pride of a single parent who had found a way to make life work.

That is the spirit I encountered time and again in Hot Springs, a town I left two years before the floods but feels sacred to me, nevertheless. There was the library, tucked temporarily beneath a former Methodist church, and the artisanal grocery store and sandwich shop in a pine outpost next door. There was Vinyl Pies Pizza, where a construction crew worked on rebuilding inside until they lost their Saturday evening daylight. Spring Creek Tavern had left its Halloween decorations clinging to the building where its porch once stood, before the waters swept it away. 鈥淒amn鈥e miss you,鈥� read a note in the window of the Iron Horse Station, where I鈥檇 inhaled a mountain of fries after that formative 2014 hike. Like so much of Hot Springs, that message felt like an act of resilience, a promise to come back.

When Covid-19 decimated the 2020 thru-hiking season, the worry was that potentially sick hikers could overrun a town like Hot Springs, where resources are low and hospitals are an hour away. That is not the worry now. Every business owner or employee I spoke to said some variation of the same thing, from the bartender at the recently reopened Big Pillow Brewing to Big Kat, a thru-hiker who is running the hostel this year: Send everyone, and tell them to bring their money. That鈥檚 what we need to continue rebuilding.

Sunday, April 6 (Northbound Mile 281.1鈥�302.1)

There was little rush to get out of Hot Springs on this stormy Sunday morning; overnight, the wind whipped the rain so hard that Left Field, the one hiker who had opted to spend the night camped on my hostel鈥檚 porch, retreated inside just before sunrise. Indeed, one of the hardest lessons that first-time thru-hikers must learn, especially somewhere as perpetually moist as the AT, is when to forge through the rain and when to take a day off. Today, at the start of two days of expected downpours, almost everyone decided to take the latter option.

Not me: I was too eager to see how the trail functioned after to sleep in, so I caught a ride to Tanyard Gap above Hot Springs just after 8 a.m. The AT is almost always rooty or rocky, uncountable footsteps during the last century having kicked away much of its topsoil. Helene inarguably made that worse, turning parts of the trail into a rushing little river and sweeping whatever dirt remained into gaps and creeks and streams. While moving uphill, as I did leaving Tanyard Gap bound for the Rich Mountain observation tower, that was barely a problem.

Dropping down into the aptly named Hurricane Gap, though, I proceeded with extra caution, grabbing the occasional rhododendron branch to balance myself on particularly onerous sets of roots and sometimes trying to find the edges of my Topo shoes like they were downhill skis, slowing my slide . Someone had passed that way on horseback the night before, it seemed, the horse鈥檚 hooves exposing just how vulnerable the trail remains鈥攅ach print resembled a crater, especially along the softest shoulders.

As with my march into Hot Springs, the trail itself was remarkably clear of debris, thanks to the Carolina Mountain Club鈥檚 recent efforts. Trees, though, don鈥檛 fall only during a storm; they fall for months or even years afterward, compromised roots finally giving way with time, wind, or rain. The volunteers hadn鈥檛 gotten to some new ones.

And that鈥檚 the real danger when the trail is wet鈥攃limbing over, under, or around fresh deadfall when going downhill on slippery ground. More than once, I grabbed a branch, clambered over a fallen tree, and simply let my feet give way until my rump met the dirt, almost like I was creeping down a slick snowfield without spikes. Given the way the AT winds around valleys and gaps in slow semicircles, one side often offers a long drop into the woods below. Avoiding those took a little forethought.

The folks who stayed in town made a mistake, though. After the overnight downpour, occasional showers drifted through the hills, keeping the trail skiddy but not making the day miserable. It was cloudy and cool, perfect for big miles into and over several steep gaps. Indeed, in one such gap, a neon pink paper sign pointed to the Southern Cookie Lady, a retired Ohioan named Peggy who settled into these woods three years ago. Most days, she sits on her porch and listens to hiker tales while serving up bagged apricot cookies and warm cobbler. The first cookie is free, but money from anything else goes to the , still in the process of rebuilding after losing thousands of volumes in the flood. Peggy only lost power and a few trees in Helene, but she was using the good fortune of her relatively calm quarters to help her community, tucking all donations into a Cool-Whip jar.

It wasn鈥檛 the only thing that reaffirmed the trail鈥檚 spirit for me today. With a new wave of storms expected overnight, I stopped at Jerry鈥檚 Cabin, a shelter perched in an idyllic clearing at 4,000 feet. In 2019, it was the first place my class of thru-hikers encountered Sovereign, a man who went on to stab a fellow hiker to death a few hundred miles up trail. I was feeling anxious until Thunder Lizard鈥攁 25-year-old musician from Vermont who forages for ramen garnishes while he walks鈥攂egan playing a few songs on his ukulele. He did some serviceable Dead and Vampire Weekend before playing by an old friend of mine called the Mountain Goats. It鈥檚 a song that鈥檚 kind of about the last tendrils of desperate hope in very desolate hours. Thunder Lizard鈥檚 shouted rendition felt a little like a hug and a lot like the kind of necessary magic the AT can deliver with suspicious regularity.

Monday, April 7 (Northbound Mile 302.1鈥�327.7)

Today, a tree almost fell on top of me.

I was 10 miles into an aspirational trail marathon, my start slowed by torrents of rain that kept everyone in their sleeping bags until the hour started to feel absurd. I worried that I鈥檇 run out of daylight, and I had also run out of water. I climbed out of Devil鈥檚 Fork Gap鈥攊n spite of the name, an absurdly bucolic patch of farmland and forest on the North Carolina/Tennessee border鈥攗ntil I reached the last point where the trail crosses Sugarloaf Branch, just above its first little waterfall. I was dumping electrolytes into a bottle of perfectly cold water when the woods ruptured.

My first thought was that some wild animal was bounding through the branches. But as I scanned the brush, I watched a tree 20 feet away explode, its 20 feet of solid wood bursting into a half-dozen bits on contact with the earth. I had a little moment of gratitude for sitting here, not there, kept drinking and then continued climbing.

There is no real way to know, of course, if that tree had been damaged by Helene, hanging around through six months of limbo, just waiting to interrupt my water break. Trees fall, and blaming each one on the last big storm is like blaming every summer rain on climate change. But it did reinforce the vague feeling I had so many times during these 140 miles鈥攖hat the woods were slightly more dangerous now, from the broken branches that snagged my bare calves to the extra patches of exposed roots that threatened my ankles. I made an extra note to check above my tent for any potential deadfall (always the right idea, anyway) and, in the meantime, to move swiftly, staying aware of big falling sticks.

That rain stuck around all day, bands shuttling across the ridges and into the gaps every hour or so. But I was heartened to see a group of a half-dozen hikers with daypacks, smiling as they climbed out of the gap while I descended into it. I wondered if perhaps AT guru Warren Doyle was around, leading them through a that allows beginners to knock out a chunk of trail efficiently. Doyle was fiercely critical of early efforts to keep people off the trail after Helene, insisting that reports of damage were overblown. (He was, I believe now, at least half-right.) I knew that Doyle himself would be near the trail come hell or, well, high water. But if others trusted trail conditions enough to join him, I thought it must be another sign that the trail was coming back online.

That鈥檚 not to say, of course, that everything was copacetic. I passed several spans where the sawdust of the Carolina Mountain Club was again fresh, relics of their work to bring some order to the chaos Helene had left behind. What鈥檚 more, I encountered a half-dozen dead trees in the span of a few miles that bore the AT鈥檚 signature white blaze, a 2-inch-by-6-inch strip of white paint. A hiker, it seemed, was carrying a Sharpie, maybe to turn roadside trash into hitchhiking signs every time they needed to get to town or graffiti their names onto shelter walls. On the blazes that belonged to those fallen trees, they鈥檇 drawn little frowns, black eyes peering up from the side of some wounded oak. The first time I saw it, I chuckled; I鈥檓 not ashamed to admit that, the sixth time I saw it, I got all verklempt.

I finished the marathon, rolling into Bald Mountain Shelter鈥攁t more than 5,000 feet, a relatively high one for the East Coast鈥攋ust after 7 p.m. I鈥檇 crossed Big Bald, an exquisite bit of trail, in a cloud, the wind whipping against my headphones as I listened to Godspeed You! Black Emperor鈥檚 first album. Some bit of political news had inspired the choice, and I鈥檇 wanted to hear its spoken-word prologue:

It felt good to know, at least, that people were taking care of the Appalachian Trail, whether or not they were being paid to do so. As I fell asleep that night, I thought about how lucky I was to be there, nestled in bed alongside a half-dozen other hikers. It is the country鈥檚 trademark trail and, I think, still its best鈥攁 resource worth all the work.

Tuesday, April 8 (Northbound Mile 327.7鈥�344.5)

I began this 140-mile sprint with one very specific goal: to cross the Nolichucky River in Erwin, TN. During my first thru-hike, in 2019, my mother-in-law scooped me and my wife outside of , the legendary hostel along that wide river鈥檚 banks, for a funeral in Indiana. She dropped us off several days later on the bridge across the Nolichucky; that was the last time we鈥檇 see family for months, and I always saw it as a pivot point in our hike, the moment we cut the cord of possibility that we could just head home.

Helene decimated that bridge, sweeping it downriver in gargantuan slabs that are still stuck there like roadblocks. When people spoke of the potentially dashed chances for a 2025 hiking season, that was a point of consistent concern: How would hikers get across the river? There was the promise of a long road detour or the prospect of a dangerous railroad crossing. And then, as Uncle Johnny鈥檚 worked to rebuild, they hatched a plan alongside the Appalachian Trail Conservancy to , operated by river guides out of work due to Helene鈥檚 aftermath. It鈥檚 how hikers in Maine cross the Kennebec River, anyway, so why not here?

But there was no boat to be found beneath the vinyl 鈥淎.T. Hiker Ferry鈥� banner, its schedule disrupted for the day by a river that was raging a little too hard. When I asked Terry Wise, the long-distance hiker who bought Uncle Johnny鈥檚 in 2021, about the ferry, he vented about the U.S. Forest Service鈥檚 refusal to put the launch pad on their land, a parcel that offered a safer ride even on rough days. A cavalcade of dump trucks doing road repairs rolled by constantly, making it clear how perilous the road walk was. The best thing hikers could do, he thought, was wait until tomorrow.

But my trip was done, and my ride was waiting in the Uncle Johnny鈥檚 parking lot. As I moseyed toward an old friend鈥檚 car and, in turn, to a , I realized there were worse fates for the AT hikers of 2025 than waiting for tomorrow. That morning, I鈥檇 passed through the most severely damaged sections of trail I鈥檇 encountered, half-mile spans in which the Carolina Mountain Club had cut hundreds of trees and forced the remnants just off the trail. It often felt like walking through endless cords of firewood, the gap between the logs barely wide enough to offer safe passage.

When I first saw the way the trail wove through those seemingly endless debris fields, especially above the deep drop of Spivey Gap, I thought of it as a miracle, an act of divine intervention. And then, of course, I realized that such an idea undermined the exhausting and dangerous work of the volunteers, like my old boss Mike, who had done what no government or god had bothered to do: save the 2025 AT season by putting their own lives on pause.

The feeling was reinforced several miles later at Temple Hill Gap, a relatively high slit in the ridge. In every direction, the trees were scattered like carcasses in a slasher film, covering nearly every square inch of the holler below. I had just left the jurisdiction of the Carolina Mountain Club, and I suddenly saw what Ron, that volunteer I鈥檇 met nearly a hundred miles earlier, meant when he said, 鈥淔or every one tree left standing, you鈥檒l see 20 that are down.鈥�

Here was that scene of near-total devastation, where the woods were a little more than a jumble of matchsticks. I stood there for a long time, trying to remember that wonderful bit of forest as it had been in 2019 and trying to imagine it as it would become鈥攄ebris at best, landslides and forest fires at worst. I was thankful for the present passage and anxious for what was to come. I turned and headed for Erwin and the Nolichucky, toward a river I would not be able to cross, at least not today.

The post Hurricane Helene Turned the Appalachian Trail Into a Highway Pile-Up. I Hiked it to Survey the Recovery. appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

Summer doesn鈥檛 officially kick off until June 20 at summer solstice. But let鈥檚 be honest: if you haven鈥檛 dialed in your summer plans by then, you’ll be behind everyone else already dialing in their plans.

To help you single out a few long weekend summer destinations, I put together a list of can鈥檛-miss trips that will satisfy just about everyone, no matter their preferences. This year, we鈥檙e focusing strictly on homegrown adventures鈥攆or a few reasons. First, the this year, because of their dislike of 鈥ou know who. This means fewer tourists in many of the country鈥檚 most popular spots, like national parks. It could also translate to cheaper bookings. What’s more,聽considering the seemingly intractable divide inside our own borders, there may be no better time to take a chance to reacquaint ourselves with our neighbors.

Now is the time to start planning your next outdoor adventure. Here’s our list of the best weekend summer trips to plan for in 2025. Consider this your guide to your greatest聽summer yet.

Columbia River Gorge, Oregon and Washington

Why now: Cutting through the Cascade Mountains for 80 miles, The Gorge, as it is known, is the in the U.S. It has it all, including the undisputed windsurfing capital of North America, Hood River. It鈥檚 also home to an increasing number of craft breweries, farm-to-table restaurants, boutique wineries, and all the other gastronomic offerings that helped make Portland, at the western end of the gorge, a foodie capital. In short, for a multisport destination in the heat of the summer, the Gorge is hard to beat.

国产吃瓜黑料 intel: For hiking, , which reopened in 2021 after a 2017 fire, is one of the most popular trails in the area鈥攁nd with good reason. It courses through the temperate rainforest, past tall basalt cliffs, and over a narrow gorge 150 feet above the creek at High Falls. For mountain biking, , on the Oregon side of the gorge, offers everything from beginner to advanced cross-country rides. For water activities, Hood River serves as the obvious鈥攁nd best鈥攂ase area, with kitesurfing and kayak rentals and lessons available along the waterfront.

Pro tip: A is required for accessing many of the hiking areas in the national scenic area.

Where to stay: This spring, glamping company unveiled its new camp, set on a stunning 120-acre property in Washington鈥檚 White Salmon River Valley, with views of Mount Hood (from $229).

Anywhere on the Appalachian Trail

Why now: America鈥檚 legendary offers practically endless section-hiking opportunities come summer, and this year thethe nonprofit devoted to protecting and managing the trail, celebrates its centennial. Festivities are planned along the trail鈥檚 entire length, including in popular AT communities like Harrisonburg, Virginia (), and Hot Springs, North Carolina (May 2-3). But the primary event聽is the ATC鈥檚 in Washington, D.C., on June 11, which is bringing together long-time supporters, partner organizations, and public officials to raise funds to protect the , the world鈥檚 longest hiking-only trail.

国产吃瓜黑料 intel: For a weekend trip, the only practical way to hike the AT is to tackle sections, and the trail is intentionally routed away from towns, so camping is really the only option if you鈥檙e overnighting it. That is unless you decide to stay at a sort of base-camp town near your route鈥攁 place like Highlands, North Carolina, or Weston, Vermont. Highlands, roughly 30 minutes east of the AT and situated within the, is the quintessential southern mountain town, with stellar swimming, fishing, and paddling nearby. Weston, a small village on the east side of , is full of country charm and easy access to adventure opportunities, including four nearby ski resorts.

Pro tip: If you want to hike significant portions of the trail and avoid carrying a tent, the ATC has good recommendations for .

Where to stay: In Highlands, opt for the new , a 14-room boutique hotel full of Appalachian charm and adventure bonafides, not to mention a front porch that鈥檚 perfect for relaxing after a day鈥檚 hike (from $169). In Weston, it鈥檚 hard to beat the recently-opened , a 9-room retreat that鈥檚 owned by the family behind some of the world鈥檚 most iconic hotels, like New York City鈥檚 The Carlyle (from $450).

Big Sky, Montana

Why now: For years, Big Sky was basically a winter-only destination, in large part because the alpine valley didn鈥檛 offer much in the way of tourist infrastructure or nighttime fun. That鈥檚 all changed in recent years as the resort has attracted a raft of new and upgraded lodging options, including the upscale and the upcoming , which opens in November. Along with the lodging came new restaurants, coffee shops, and added amenities for year-round adventures. The combined effect has turned Big Sky into a legitimate year-round destination.

国产吃瓜黑料 intel: Staying in the valley means it鈥檚 easier to take advantage of the nearby adventure options, including fly-fishing on the Gallatin River, lift-accessed mountain-biking from the base village, and touring nearby Yellowstone National Park. One of the best day hikes in the area is the 5.4-mile out-and-back Lava Lake Trail, which ends at an alpine lake with stunning views of the Spanish Peaks.

Pro tip: It鈥檚 usually most convenient to stay in , slightly down valley from the ski area, because it offers walking access to great coffee shops like Blue Moon Bakery, the farmer鈥檚 market (every Wednesday night June through September), and good restaurants like The Rocks Tasting Room and Liquor Store.

Where to stay: , which opened in 2019, is in the heart of the town center and has 129 suite rooms with full kitchens, a living area, and a workspace (from $274).

Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina

Why now: Wrightsville Beach, a tiny hamlet on a barrier island, has quietly emerged as a world-class water-sports capital with a few upgraded lodging options that make it worthy of a long weekend stay. There鈥檚 excellent surfing, SUPing, and lounging on five miles of wide, sandy beaches. Fishing is central to the culture here, as is surfing, and there are waves for riders of all levels, meaning it鈥檚 a great place for lessons and surf camps.

国产吃瓜黑料 intel: With multiple waterways and miles of wild terrain, paddling is one of the most popular summertime activities at Wrightsville Beach. An excellent, if remote, paddling destination is , the largest undisturbed barrier island along North Carolina鈥檚 southern coast. The Reserve, as locals call it, is across the channel from Wrightsville Beach and can only be reached by boat. But once there, trails connect the bayside to the ocean, and hiking them is a good way to spot one of the island鈥檚 rarer bird species, like the American oystercatcher or the Least terns.

Pro tip: If you鈥檙e looking for nightlife and cultural activities, Wilmington, just 10 minutes away, is full of museums, boutique shops, and a historic downtown.

Where to stay: In January, outdoor-focused hotel brand opened , a reimagined beach resort set on 3.5 acres of oceanfront property. As one of few hotels on the East Coast with both beach and sound access, every room has a water view.

The Erie Canal, New York

Why now: This year marks the of the waterway that transformed the Eastern Seaboard, and yet few people even know where the canal is located. As it happens, it courses through 365 miles of amazing New York scenery鈥攔olling hills, winding river valleys, lush farmland, and historic towns鈥攆rom Lake Erie in the West to the Hudson River in the East. To commemorate the bicentennial, the state is holding a series of , many of which include recreational opportunities.

国产吃瓜黑料 intel: The is full of outdoor adventures, including the , 450 miles of canals and interconnected lakes and rivers with more than 140 access points. There鈥檚 also an equally amazing bike path along the canal, the , with 360 miles of mostly pathway riding. For cyclists, it doesn鈥檛 get much better, or quainter, than this ride, with sections through the Finger Lakes region and Mohawk Valley.

Pro tip: One of the most unique experiences to be had on the water is kayaking through the Waterford Flight, a series of five locks that lift vessels from the Hudson River to the Mohawk River, bypassing Cohoes Falls, with a total gain of 169 feet in just over 1.5 miles.

Where to stay: The NYS Canal Corporation offers along the canal for hikers, bikers, and paddlers during the summer (fees vary on location). For access points and campsites, the state offers an excellent .

Voyageurs National Park, Minnesota

Why now: This year, Voyageurs park, 218,000 acres of pristine lakes and North Woods forests, is celebrating its 聽 聽As part of the celebration, it鈥檚, where you can learn about the park鈥檚 landscapes and history. It鈥檚 also where you can pick up your permits when venturing into the park鈥檚 interior, which is exactly what you should do.

国产吃瓜黑料 intel: The park is a patchwork of land, water, and wetlands, and paddling is a mandatory experience, as is camping. At night, the stars come out, and the occasional auroras. As a designated International Dark Sky Park, there is no light pollution to diminish the view. Voyageurs is famed for its campsites, and it has (and over 270 total) located shoreside. They all require a watercraft to get to, and they鈥檙e all great for experiencing the Milky Way.

Pro tip: One of the more unique experiences you can have in the park is sleeping on a . With the boat as your base camp, you can motor to remote coves and then use kayaks or a canoe to fish for walleyes and explore the area by manual, then return to an actual bed come nightfall.

Where to stay: There are various houseboat rental companies , but 360-square-mile Rainey Lake, on the border with Canada, is usually the best bet for a true wilderness experience while on a houseboat.

Sonoma County, California

Why now: California鈥檚 Sonoma County, roughly an hour north of San Francisco, gets plenty of attention for its wineries but [[it]] often gets overlooked for its commitment to adventure. Case in point: This year is helping expand by that will help connect all of its protected land from the Russian River to the Pacific Ocean. In the future, the new land acquisition will feature hiking and mountain biking trails through ancient redwood forests. In the meantime, Sonoma still has plenty of hiking opportunities鈥� across the county鈥檚 park system.

国产吃瓜黑料 intel: Sonoma County has it all鈥攈iking in the redwood forests, paddling and tubing down the Russian River, even SUPing along the coast on Bodega Bay. It鈥檚 also become one of the best destinations in the state for road cycling, and one of the area鈥檚 more popular rides is a around Healdsburg, with rolling roads that go past many of the area鈥檚 wineries.

Pro tip: The town of Healdsburg has dozens of hotels, most of which cater to Bay Area folk coming up for wine tastings. Instead, book in Guerneville, a rustic hamlet on the shores of the Russian River surrounded by towering redwood trees.

Where to stay: , a glamping resort set in a redwood grove, opened this Memorial Day. It’s a welcoming mashup between a national park campground and a private Soho House-style members club (from $315).

Denver, Colorado

Why now: The Mile High City has always been a great jumping off point for Rocky Mountain fun, but it continues to evolve as a world-class urban adventure hub in itself. This year, the city bolsters that reputation with the . The private golf course, which closed up shop in 2018, is the largest addition to Denver鈥檚 park system in more than a century. on how to best use the site overall, but this summer the city will restore portions of it with native plant species and walking trails, even a dog park, until it finalizes how to reimagine the site overall.

国产吃瓜黑料 intel: Denver delivers more than 850 miles of paved, off-street biking and walking trails, including the slopestyle MTB course, dirt jumps, and pump tracks at . For paddlers, , at the intersection of Cherry Creek and the South Platte, is just minutes from downtown and has man-made kayak chutes for playboating.

Pro tip: Denver鈥檚 River North Arts District (RiNo) has transformed itself over the last decade into a world-class creative hub. It also offers easy access to the city鈥檚 many outdoor adventures, including walking access to the 32-mile long . Book here if you鈥檙e staying in town.

Where to stay: , a combination boutique hotel, artisan market hall, and creative hub, is a good base camp in RiNo, with sparse but comfortable rooms, and even a free beer at check-in (from $224 per night).

Nantucket, Massachusetts

Why now: This island, 26 miles off Cape Cod, is known more for its popped-collar crowd than its outdoor adventures, but it鈥檚 full of outdoor fun come summer鈥攆rom paddling in Nantucket Harbor to sailing on the open Atlantic. Until the last few years, the island鈥檚 hotels were fairly, well鈥tale. Not anymore. The historic underwent a massive refresh recently (from $645), as did the , which offer complimentary access to bicycles, fishing rods for kids, and shuttles to the beach (from $570 per night). So now there鈥檚 great adventures and great places to stay.

国产吃瓜黑料 intel: One of the best ways to experience Nantucket’s rugged side is by hiking in the , over 1,100 acres of beach dunes covered with bayberry bushes, heather, and beach grass. There are 16 miles of over-sand vehicle routes, but walking on the eastern beaches offers an easy way to get a taste of the island鈥檚 remoteness.

Pro tip: The island鈥檚 windswept beaches and sharp points make landing a trophy striped bass, bluefish, or false albacore a real possibility. Many people even fly-fish for them from shore. Great Point, in the shadow of the , is one of the most popular areas for surfcasting. Book a guide at .

Where to stay: The 65-year-old , which reopened in May after a multi-year renovation from a down-and-out motel into a retro-chic hotel, has聽91 hotel rooms, a courtyard pool, and a new lobby, bar, and restaurant.

Glacier Bay National Park and Preserve, Alaska

Why now: Glacier Bay National Park, with its 3.3 million acres of mountains, glaciers, rainforest, and fjords, is celebrating 聽its centennial this year. Established as a , the park is as wild as it gets, with opportunities to witness calving glaciers, paddle in the same waters as puffins and whales, and hike through old-growth forests dripping with lichen and moss.

国产吃瓜黑料 intel: Getting on the water is essential if you want to experience the park鈥檚 true majesty鈥攚hether it鈥檚 a boat tour, kayaking in the fjords, river-rafting, or fishing in the bay.

Pro tip: The park鈥檚 glaciers, over 1,000 of them, are worth seeing up close, and the best way to do that is with a in the backcountry. Of course, if you want to stretch your legs on land, the relaxed are worthwhile.

Where to stay: Not many people stay overnight in the park, as most are visiting on cruise ships. But if you want to crash for a night or two inside Glacier Bay鈥檚 boundaries, the best option is the historic , in Bartlett Cove (from $274). The rooms are basic, but you鈥檙e right in the park itself, so you can explore on foot, plus the lodge offers a daily boat tour on its highspeed catamaran.

Chattanooga, Tennessee

Why now: In April, Chattanooga was named North America’s first National Park City for its commitment to integrating nature and urban life. The recognition was the final cherry on top of a long, dramatic transformation for a city that was one of the most polluted in the U.S.in the 1970s. Today, it鈥檚 a top outdoor destination.

国产吃瓜黑料 intel: Chattanooga, population 185,000, sits in the foothills of the Southern Appalachians, so outdoor adventures are never far. There鈥檚 kayaking and SUPing on the Tennessee River, which winds through downtown, and 100 miles of singletrack within 20 miles of town. This includes 92-acre , a wooded wilderness inside city limits with 6 miles of flowy singletrack. The area has also become a hotbed of rock climbing, and the most popular crag for out-of-towners is , a bouldering area 20 miles north of downtown with 400 problems on high quality sandstone.

Pro tip: 聽For traditional climbers, the in Prentice-Cooper State Forest is widely considered one of the best climbing areas in the country.

Where to Stay: For those looking for a little comfort and access to Chattanooga鈥檚 cultural side, the (from $165) is an unpretentious but upscale hotel located in the historic Chattanooga Choo Choo district. The hotel even has renovated Pullman train carriages from the early 20th century that you can book for an overnight stay.

Maui, Hawaii

Why now: Since wildfires ravaged the island in the summer of 2023, Maui has labored mightily to recover. There is still much work to be done, but increasingly the island needs tourists to help it return to a sense of normalcy. The has gone so far as to say that 鈥渢he best way to support Maui is through travel.鈥�

国产吃瓜黑料 intel: Hawaii may not be a top-of-mind destination come summer, but the temperatures are nearly perfect, ranging from the mid-70s to upper-80s. The rains have ceased, and the ocean is calmer, making way for more snorkeling and paddling opportunities. Hiking in Haleakal膩 National Park is still great. And all the amazing farm-to-table restaurants, empty stretches of sand, and vibrant towns鈥攍ike Wailuku, P膩驶ia, and Makawao, welcome fewer guests than in the high season.

Pro tip: To help encourage tourists to come back and visit meaningfully, the Hawai鈥檌 Tourism Authority created the , where people signing up for a dedicated volunteer opportunity can qualify for special discounts at participating hotels. A list of opportunities is available .

Where to stay: For a heavier dose of adrenaline, look toward the eastern, windward side of the island. It鈥檚 a remote, rugged, and lush landscape that鈥檚 full of waterfalls and vivid green hues. Hana is the main town on this side of the island, and one of the better upscale lodging options is the Hana-Maui Resort, a historic inn recently upgraded into a full-service resort with an off-the-grid vibe (from $450).

Boise, Idaho

Why now: Idaho鈥檚 capital has long been considered one of the mountain West鈥檚 most accessible outdoors hubs. Now an influx of investment dollars, along with coastal transplants since the pandemic, has helped turn downtown into a thriving locus of cultural, gastronomic, and commercial energy. New hotels, shops, and restaurants have added dynamism to a city that could often feel one-note. It鈥檚 ripe for a long weekend trip.

国产吃瓜黑料 intel: The parallels the river for 25 miles right through the heart of the city, offering tree-lined paths for walking and biking. At the , just downstream of downtown, three engineered waves create one of the West鈥檚 great urban whitewater playgrounds. And the river also makes for great flatwater SUP outings come summer.

Pro tip: The city鈥檚 Ridge to Rivers Tail System, a vast network of over 190 miles worth of interconnected hiking and biking trails in the Boise Foothills, is getting two new trails. The 2.9-mile Curlew Connection Trail was completed last fall and construction on the 2-mile Sideshow Trail, a downhill-specific mountain bike trail, began this spring.

Where to stay: (from $171) is one of the newest and best entrants on the scene, with 122 rooms, a rooftop lounge called The Highlander, and the Baraboo Supper Club, a chophouse-style restaurant that feels more like a neighborhood joint.

Traverse City, Michigan

Why now: Traverse City, in northwest Michigan, is home to sandy beaches, award-winning vineyards, great restaurants, eight historic lighthouses, and . It鈥檚 also been on a bit of a development spree in the last few years, with a number of name brand hotels opening or breaking ground. The hotels鈥擣airfield by Marriott Inn & Suites, Hyatt House, etc.鈥攁re all standard fare, but together they demonstrate a bullish outlook investors have in the city鈥檚 year-round tourism potential.

国产吃瓜黑料 intel: Summer is the busiest time of year, and it鈥檚 hard to beat, with all of the classic Michigan adventures, like biking through wine country on the 17-mile . For water enthusiasts, there鈥檚 excellent sailing and paddling options on Lake Michigan, with plenty of rental kayaks along the waterfront.

Pro tip: One of the most popular trail networks in this area of the state is the , which is maintained for both summer and wintertime activities. The multi-use trail has a series of loops (3K, 5K, 10K, and 25K) that includes cross-country options through the hardwood forests for both serious mountain bikers and neophytes alike.

Where to stay: If you want to avoid the chain hotels, one of your best bets is , a 32-room boutique property set directly on the shores of the East Arm of Grand Traverse Bay (from $190). The rooms are simple but comfortable. Of course, the reason you鈥檙e staying here is not the room itself but the soft-sand beach below your balcony.

Ryan Krogh is a writer and editor based in Austin, Texas. He writes frequently about the outdoors and travel. This summer he has trips planned to Montana, Dominica, Costa Rica, and Paris, France. He also has plans to paddle on the Erie Canal in August, the only trip coinciding with this list of ideas, although he fully endorses all of these destinations based on previous adventures.听聽

The post The Best Summer Weekend Trips of 2025 appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

Trail towns play an outsize role in a thru-hiker鈥檚 journey. Serving as celebratory checkpoints, physical pit stops, resupply junctions, med centers, and social refreshers, some mountain communities have gained a reputation as

But longtime trail town residents and veteran hikers say that far too many long-distance trekkers鈥攁nd especially newbs鈥攆ail to fully capitalize on the resource. And that鈥檚 to their detriment.

The Appalachian Trail Conservancy (ATC) estimates that 鈥渏ust one out of every four people that set out to thru-hike the AT each year will make it,鈥� says Adam Stanley, who owns three hostels along the southern half of the fabled route. 鈥淲e experience that attrition firsthand at our two Virginia locations and I鈥檇 say at least half of [those failures] boil down to people not fully taking advantage of their time in town.鈥�

Here, he and other thru-hikers and trail town fixtures share their top do鈥檚 and don鈥檛s for backpackers passing through.

Trail Town Residents Want You To Succeed

on long routes like the AT worked hard to achieve that distinction from cooperative management groups like the ATC. The recognition awards cities and towns for providing excellent resources to hikers and serving as exemplary trail stewards. And most locals know and care about it.

鈥淭his community loves thru-hikers and is extremely proud of our designation as an Appalachian Trail Community,鈥� says Franklin, North Carolina, resident Cory McCall, who owns hiker-centric gear shop, Outdoor 76. The trail attracts 鈥減eople from all across the country and around the world, and thousands of them pass through here each year.鈥�

The tourism influx is a powerful economic and cultural driver for the rural, 4,300-person town. Restaurants, shops, breweries, hotels, campgrounds, and businesses like McCall鈥檚 count on it for their livelihood. And those tax dollars help boost local quality of life.

鈥淭he vast majority of people that live here will go out of their way to make sure hikers feel welcome,鈥� says McCall. Furthermore, 鈥渨e鈥檙e used to people passing through and that depth of experience makes us not just uniquely qualified, but willing to take the time to help out.鈥�

McCall says that, when it comes to hiker help, hostels and outfitters are like de facto visitor centers. 鈥淧eople don鈥檛 start these businesses to get rich, because that ain鈥檛 gonna happen,鈥� he says. 鈥淲e do it because we love the culture; we鈥檙e really just hikers helping hikers.鈥�

Stanley agrees. He launched his flagship in Waynesboro, Virginia, in 2010. More than 10,000 thru- and section hikers have since passed through its doors.

鈥淚 think new hikers in particular are often too hesitant to ask for help or seek advice,鈥� he says. 鈥淪o my number one thing I would tell them is: We appreciate the amazing journey you鈥檙e on, understand its personal importance, and legitimately want to see you succeed.鈥�

If a hiker has questions about daily mileage, needs advice for a tasty dinner spot, an open ear to air doubts, or help figuring out gear, he urges them to just ask.

鈥淚f we can鈥檛 answer a question directly or help out ourselves,鈥� says Stanley, 鈥渨e鈥檙e going to do our best to connect you to someone who can.鈥�

Every Town Is Different, So Plan Accordingly

No two trail towns are built the same鈥攁nd that鈥檚 a good thing. But it does necessitate some advance logistical considerations.

鈥淚t鈥檚 important to look at what resources are available where and at least make a loose plan around that,鈥� says Larry Riddle, who hiked the AT multiple times before opening in Damascus, Virginia, in 2007.

From a pragmatic standpoint, that means asking questions like: Does the town have a Walmart for a full-fledged resupply or just a tiny, locally-owned convenience store? Where鈥檚 the post office? Is there a brick-and-mortar outfitter that can help you troubleshoot or upgrade gear? Are there hiker-friendly hostels like Larry鈥檚 where you can send a two-day or overnight Amazon order while still on the trail?

Then it鈥檚 on to the fun part: Amenities and culture. 鈥淓very so-called trail town has its own unique local flavor and neat things to see and do,鈥� says Riddle. 鈥淚 think a lot of hikers tend to overlook that aspect of [the long-trail experience], because they鈥檒l go in with these presuppositions and kind of lump all of these communities into one barrel.鈥�

Damascus, for instance, offers exquisite trout fishing and sits on a staggeringly scenic rail-to-trail route. Roanoke, Virginia, boasts a killer craft brewery and restaurant scene. Harpers Ferry, West Virginia, pairs beautiful historic Colonial architecture with amazing kayaking on the Potomac and Shenandoah Rivers. The list goes on.

鈥淚 tell hikers to take some time to really immerse themselves in these towns or maybe even look at the next town over and check out what they have to offer,鈥� says Riddle. After all, hiking a long trail is about having a badass adventure, not trudging nose-to-the-proverbial-grindstone for months on end.

鈥淟ook at it like a once-in-a-lifetime vacation,鈥� he says. 鈥淕o into these places, take a little time off the trail, relax, and treat yourself to something different.鈥�

Have Fun, but Be a Good Visitor

Yes, you鈥檙e on a bucket list journey and breezing through places you may never visit again. And spotting that big beautiful town limits sign after days of roughing it in the wilderness can hit like a clarion call from Bacchus himself. But that doesn鈥檛 give you permission to act like a would-be star of Spring Breakers Gone Wild.

鈥淚f you like to have a drink, that鈥檚 great, so do I,鈥� says Stanley. But remember, alcohol and other substances can have an intensified effect after sustained, strenuous physical activity. 鈥淵ou just want to make sure you鈥檙e doing it in a way that鈥檚 responsible and being considerate of those around you.鈥�

Like Waynesboro, lots of trail towns feature breweries, distilleries, and maybe a restaurant or sports bar. But there usually isn鈥檛 much in the way of a late-night party scene. Furthermore, that , says Riddle, seems to be well on the wane.

鈥淭he amount of binge-drinking and partying seems to have gone way down over the past 10 years or so, and that鈥檚 a good thing,鈥� says Riddle. 鈥淧eople go out, have a beer, listen to some live music at the brewery, but they鈥檙e back here hanging around the firepit by 10 and usually dead asleep by midnight.鈥�

And remember: Many of the people you meet while you鈥檙e hanging out in town will be fellow thru-hikers and section hikers. You may see these people again, and you鈥檒l want them to remember you fondly.

鈥淭hese are the people you鈥檙e sharing the trail with,鈥� says Stanley. 鈥淭hey鈥檙e going to talk to guys and gals like me鈥攐r those staying with me鈥攁bout things they鈥檝e experienced along the way. You don鈥檛 want to be the person who shows up that everyone has been warning people about.鈥�

But Stanley and Riddle are quick to note such situations are exceedingly rare.

鈥淭he vast majority of people are out here behaving themselves, hiking their own hike, and having a great time,鈥� says McCall. The number one rule is, 鈥渋f you treat folks out here with kindness and respect, 99 percent of the time, that鈥檚 how they鈥檙e going to treat you.鈥�

The post This Is What Trail Town Residents Want Thru-Hikers to Know appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

celebrated on June 1, is a day to care for, and get out and explore, our nation鈥檚 trails. We鈥檙e celebrating by featuring some of the most stunning routes in the U.S. and the reasons that make them so special. Since we can鈥檛 feature every beautiful path in the country, we looked for diversity in region and terrain.

Whether you鈥檙e in the Midwest, itching for a canyon-centric adventure, or on the coast looking for a trail that leads to an isolated beach, here are 12 of the best hikes in the country.

In The West

Best Volcano Hike

Kilauea Iki Trail: Hawaii Volcanoes National Park, Hawaii

The U.S. has a shocking number of volcanoes scattered throughout the country, but Kilauea, in Hawaii Volcanoes National Park, is the most active. In fact, it鈥檚 still erupting as I write this: a small eruption started in December 2024 and is still going strong, spewing lava up to 500 feet in the air from its main vent. Don鈥檛 worry, all of this action is happening in a closed section of the park you鈥檒l want to avoid. Instead, hike the , which travels through a rainforest before dropping into a crater and crossing a lava lake formed by an eruption in 1959. Some of the lava is still warm to touch and you can find vents emanating steam throughout the lake, which occurs when rain gathers in pools and boils.

Logistics: The entrance fee to Hawaii Volcanoes is $30 per vehicle. Expect traffic delays over the next two years as the park works to remove damaged buildings and enhance the road for better vehicle flow. Check the for updates. The USGS runs a webcam with a of the current eruption. If you鈥檙e in the park, you can see the activity from the Uekahuna overlook on Crater Rim Drive West and from the Kilauea Overlook.

Best Hike to a Beach

Shi Shi Beach and Point of Arches: Olympic National Park and Makah Tribal Land, Washington

Olympic National Park boasts some dramatic coastal landscapes, and Shi Shi Beach might be the most famous thanks to its bevy of sea stacks. This eight-mile starts in a sitka spruce forest on boardwalks before hitting switchbacks down to the beach itself. Look west and you鈥檒l see the Pacific Ocean spreading before you and the park鈥檚 iconic sea stacks rising from the tide. The beach itself ain鈥檛 bad either, with bone-white driftwood and tide pools full of sea creatures. You鈥檒l be tempted to stop here, but keep hiking south along the beach for 1.3 miles to hit Point of Arches, a mile-long cluster of sea stacks dotting the breaks just off the sand.

Logistics: If you鈥檙e knocking this hike in a day, you don鈥檛 need permits, but you do need the $20 Makah Recreation Pass, which you can purchase or in person at the New Bay Marina or Museum.

Best Hike to a Technical Summit聽

Grand Teton: Grand Teton National Park, Wyoming

Archeological evidence suggests that the 13,776-foot, craggy Grand Teton has been luring climbers to its summit inside what is now Grand Teton National Park long before Europeans showed up. The mountain鈥檚 striking, trapezoidal shape is still the focus of hundreds of summit bids every summer. The hike and technical climb is a 14-mile roundtrip effort, gaining 7,000 feet in total elevation. If you鈥檙e going to reach the tippy top of Grand Teton, you鈥檒l need technical climbing skills, the right gear, and preferably a guide. Some people do it in a day, but it鈥檚 better as a weekend adventure, which allows you to spend at least one night at the high elevation base camp for the final summit push. The 5.4 Owen Spalding Route is the classic, and easiest, ascent. But listen, even if you鈥檙e not interested in the technical climb, you should still do this hike, which rises from the Lupine Meadows Trailhead to the Lower Saddle for a 12-mile out and back. From the saddle, you鈥檒l have close-range views of glaciers and long-range views of Garnet Canyon and the Alaska Basin below.

Logistics: Entrance fee to the park is $35 per vehicle. If you鈥檙e doing the full summit and plan on spending the night at one of the saddles, you鈥檒l need a backcountry ($20). Book a four-day trip with (from $2,100 per person).

Best Slot Canyon Hike聽

Zebra Slot Canyon: Grand-Staircase-Escalante National Monument

Choosing one slot canyon is a daunting task, but Zebra wins because of its gorgeous pink and tan striped walls and narrow passageways, which are as tight as 10-inches wide at some points. Also, it鈥檚 not a technical canyon to traverse, so you shouldn鈥檛 need climbing gear. You鈥檒l still need to scramble and squeeze your way through portions of this 5.2-mile , but make yourself skinny and you鈥檒l be standing in the heart of a narrow gorge with pink and white striped walls rising 100 feet on either side of you. The hike starts by traversing a sandy, scrubby wash before meandering through a broad canyon with pink walls. Once you reach Zebra Canyon proper, the going gets narrow and you鈥檒l likely find pools of water on the floor, so bring water-friendly shoes.

Logistics: There鈥檚 no entrance fee to Grand Staircase-Escalante, and you don鈥檛 need a permit to hike Zebra Canyon, but you should stop into the to ask about the water levels within the canyon.

In The East

Best Hike to see Fall Foliage

Burrows Trail to Camel鈥檚 Hump: Vermont

Vermont was essentially created for fall foliage, as the forest that blankets the 4,000-foot peaks throughout the state transitions into a kaleidoscope of colors starting in September. You can鈥檛 walk to get a pumpkin spice latte in the state without witnessing the show, but I say make the trek up Camel鈥檚 Hump, Vermont鈥檚 third highest peak, which offers dramatic 360-degree views that take in all of the lush canopy below as well as Lake Champlain to the west and the White Mountains of New Hampshire to the east. The 4.7-mile out and back on gets you to the summit the fastest with much of the time under the colorful canopy that you鈥檙e here to marvel.

Logistics: This hike sits inside , which was carved out of the Green Mountains National Forest, but there are no entrance fees or permits required. The trailhead parking area fills up fast on weekends, especially during peak foliage season, so show up early in the morning.

Best Ridgeline Hike聽

Rocky Peak Ridge, High Peaks Wilderness: Adirondacks, New York

You want mountaintop views and rocky exposure? Head to the High Peaks Wilderness of Adirondack Park. This 13-mile out and back on the climbs a series of smaller summits on its way to 4,420-foot Rocky Peak, gaining more than 5,000 feet all together. You鈥檒l get long range views from the various rocky summits, making this feel like a true ridgeline jaunt, but you鈥檒l also descend to saddles giving you a chance to take a rest at Mary Louise Pond toward the end of the adventure. A lot of people make it an overnighter, but it鈥檚 a doable day hike for go-getters. The view from Rocky Peak Ridge is true alpine glory, with boulders strewn through a high-alpine meadow covering the treeless peak. Hit it during the summer, and you鈥檒l be able to forage your way through Blueberry Cobbles, a hillside that鈥檚 covered in wild fruit bushes near the trailhead.

Logistics: There are no permits or entry fees for day hikes in the High Peaks Wilderness, but you should definitely bring a hiking partner or, at the very least, tell someone where you鈥檙e going and when you鈥檒l be back.

Best Trail to See a Gigantic Waterfall

Rainbow Falls Trail: Pisgah National Forest, North Carolina聽

I鈥檇 argue that Rainbow Falls is one of the most impressive waterfalls in the Southern Appalachians, period. The entire Horsepasture River plummets over the side of a sheer, granite cliff, dropping 150 feet straight into a deep pool. Time it right after heavy summer storms and the volume of the waterfall is thunderous. Follow the for two miles along the bustling Horsepasture River, a drop and pool creek with plenty of swimming hole potential, until you reach the base of Rainbow Falls. There鈥檚 good swimming at the base of the falls, just don鈥檛 try to climb the cliff or wade at the top of the waterfall, as visitors have died doing those very things.

Logistics: Rainbow Falls is located in Pisgah National Forest, but the trailhead is located inside . There are no fees for visiting the park or falls. Bring your swimsuit and water shoes or sandals because you鈥檙e going to want to swim.

Best Hike to See Natural Arches in the East聽

Auxier Ridge Trail: Red River Gorge, Kentucky聽

Kentucky鈥檚 Red River Gorge is a vast canyon system inside that鈥檚 best known for its sport climbing, but the gorge has more than 100 natural arches, the highest concentration of such rock outcroppings east of the Rockies. This isn鈥檛 the desert landscape you might expect though, as the forest is lush and green with sandstone arches stretching out from the canopy. Most of the arches are scattered throughout the area鈥檚 29,000 acres. Focus your attention on the 2.5-mile , and you鈥檒l see the towering Courthouse Rock, which rises from the forest like a courthouse looming over the town square. You can also take side hikes to half a dozen arches, including the aptly-named Double Arch, where a smaller arch is stacked inside a larger arch.

Logistics: Red River Gorge is relatively primitive. Some trails are marked, while un-signed social trails lead to hidden goodies like , a large natural bridge on the edge of a cliff. You don鈥檛 need permits and there are no entrance fees.

[[In The]] Midwest聽

Best Cliff Hike in the Midwest聽

Big Bluff: Buffalo National River, Arkansas

I like any trail that comes with the caveat 鈥渘ot recommended for children.鈥� Not because I don鈥檛 like hiking with kids, but because this usually means there will be cliff-top exposure, and that means beautiful views. Such is the case with the , a half-mile-long steep climb on a narrow ledge to the edge of Big Bluff, a sandstone cliff that dominates a dramatic bend in the Buffalo River. Big Bluff lives up to its name, rising 550 feet from the valley and delivering a long range view of the sinuous waterway below. In fact, it鈥檚 the tallest sheer cliff between the Rockies and the Appalachians. Big Bluff is also known for its scrappy juniper trees, which are estimated to be 800 years old. Most of the hike is actually on the Centerpoint Trail, which follows an old wagon road as it drops 1,300 feet to the river over 2.5 miles. All in, it鈥檚 a 6-mile out and back with roughly 2,000 feet of climbing.

Logistics: There鈥檚 no entrance fee to the . I鈥檓 not kidding about the exposure on this hike. It鈥檚 not for the faint of heart, so be prepared and be careful.

Best Canyon Hike

Starved Rock State Park, Illinois

At first glance, you鈥檇 think the Illinois River would be the central attraction to ; the large body of water seems to dominate the landscape after all. But it鈥檚 the small canyons that feed the large river that hikers seem to love. More than a dozen narrow and lush gorges have been carved on the southern side of the river, giving hikers an enticing labyrinth of rock to explore via 13 miles of established trail.

If you鈥檙e moving at a fast pace, you can explore every canyon in the park in a day, but focus on French Canyon, which has a narrows section reminiscent of Utah, but with more greenery, and Wildcat Canyon, which has vertical walls and an 80 foot waterfall that runs after a rain. Take a map and spend an afternoon creating your own loop through the maze of canyons.

Logistics: Most hikes begin at the Visitor鈥檚 Center. Grab a map. There are a lot of short trails throughout the park that you鈥檒l have to connect to create a larger hike. All state parks in Illinois are free to enter.

Best Prairie Hike聽

Sheyenne National Grassland, North Dakota

Are prairies beautiful? Hell yes. Especially if all you鈥檝e ever known is mountains or coast. There鈥檚 something fascinating about being able to see for a hundred miles in any direction, and the Sheyenne National Grassland might be the best of our prairies, as it protects 135,000 acres of sand dunes and tall grass in southern North Dakota. The National Grassland also hosts a 30-mile section of the North Country National Scenic Trail, which runs for more than 4,000 miles from Vermont to North Dakota. The hiking is easy, but you鈥檙e not here for a challenge. You鈥檙e here for the expansive field of view that only the midwest can offer. Much of the hiking is flat with shimmering waves of grass all the way to the horizon in every direction. Head to the West Trailhead of the for a 6.5-mile section that runs between two highways, passing through tall grass, wildflowers in the summer, and the occasional grove of trees.

Logistics: Show up in the middle of summer for the best weather and best wildflowers. There鈥檚 no entrance fee to the National Grassland.

Best Backcountry Lake Hike聽

Secret/Blackstone Loop, Boundary Waters Canoe Area聽

I know, the Boundary Waters are for canoeing, and you鈥檙e not wrong, but there are also hiking trails that connect many of the backcountry lakes. Granted, most of those trails are multi-day endeavors for the hardy looking to navigate the wilderness. But there鈥檚 also the four-mile near Ely, which is a rarity in the Boundary Waters in that it is short, signed, and easy to follow. Bonus: It takes in four different lakes on its figure-eight journey through a pine forest. The hiking is mostly flat, and you鈥檒l walk right to the grassy edge of Blackstone Lake if you want to take a dip, as well as scamper to rocky overlooks of Ennis Lake. In addition to walking along the banks of Secret, Blackstone, and Ennis Lakes, you鈥檒l also find a small, unnamed pond along the way. Blackstone, the first lake you鈥檒l reach on the hike, is arguably the highlight of the trip as it鈥檚 water is clear and ideal for swimming, or paddling if you want to lug a craft of some sort with you.

Logistics: This is a straightforward day hike, but all visitors must get a ($16 per adult) when entering Boundary Waters Canoe Area. You can snag them in advance or at the self-serve kiosks at entry points. The forest maintains a quota system to limit the number of people inside the Boundary Waters, so it鈥檚 smart to make a reservation in advance ($6 reservation fee).

Graham Averill is 国产吃瓜黑料 magazine鈥檚 national-parks columnist. Based in Asheville, North Carolina, he is fortunate enough to live within a few hours of many world-class hikes. He recently wrote about the best hikes in Joshua Tree National Park, his favorite mountain town, and the the most adventurous national park.

The post These Are the 12 Most Stunning Trails in the U.S. appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

The Appalachian Trail will change your life, but maybe no single mile of it will. Unlike its great western counterparts along the Pacific Crest or the Continental Divide, the United States鈥� most iconic footpath is subtle鈥攁 green tunnel through some of the oldest and most graceful mountains in the world, not some sizzle reel of endless panoramas. You can stand atop a 14er or a high Sierra pass and instantly feel altered; the AT takes time to shape you over miles, months, years.

While it鈥檚 hard to pick a birthday for the trail, which Benton MacKaye proposed in 1921 but wasn鈥檛 completed until 1937, you could reasonably say the founding of the Appalachian Trail Conservancy (ATC) in 1925 was when the AT became what it is. While the ATC has had its fair share of controversy, no other individual or organization has ever done more to protect and promote the trail鈥檚 2,197.4 miles and the land around it. At a time when federal resources for public lands are in the air at best, the ATC continues its century-long mission to safeguard the trail, from volunteers they lead on crucial maintenance missions to their audacious .

In that spirit, two of us who have had our lives changed by the Appalachian Trail鈥�Backpacker writers and 鈥攈ave selected our 鈥渂est鈥� 100 miles of the Appalachian Trail. (Fine, it鈥檚 103.8, but more trail is better than less.) All these mileage markers represent a northbound hike and are subject to change, like the trail itself.

We debated these picks, arguing about their accessibility, their beauty, the way they loom large in our memory. Underneath it all, we were discussing the ways certain bits of land strung together by white blazes had changed us. Not everyone has the opportunity to thru-hike, but there鈥檚 a chance, that these 19 chunks of trail, from a 14-mile roller coaster in Virginia to the climb up Katahdin in Maine, can still change you, anyway.

Prologue: The Arch to The Stairs, Georgia

Though the Appalachian Trail officially begins on Springer Mountain before heading (at least at the moment) 2,197.4 miles to Maine, you should begin at , beneath a simple stone arch. This is the 8.5-mile Appalachian Trail Approach, infamous for being debated by thru-hikers for its value and the 600-plus stairs to the top of the falls, which are as entertaining and challenging as almost anything on the actual Appalachian Trail. Legend has it that would-be thru-hikers have jettisoned their entire kits while climbing those stairs, returning to the parents still waiting below. And you will stun a dozen tourists when they ask you where you鈥檙e going and you simply answer 鈥淢aine!鈥� The falls, it should be said, are beautiful; pose for a photo, and keep grunting up that hill. 鈥擥贬颁

Blood Mountain to Neel Gap, Georgia (3.2 Miles: 28.1-31.3)

Blood Mountain is one of the first landmarks for northbound AT hikers. It鈥檚 also the highest peak on the Georgia section, the sixth highest in the state. But it鈥檚 best known for another reason: ghosts. Some hikers point to the peak鈥檚 history as a battleground between the Cherokee and the Muscogee people as the origin of the stories. Others point to , who went missing in 2008 on the mountain, to explain its shelter鈥檚 eeriness. The trail log is often full of stories about strange occurrences from those who are brave enough to stay the night. 鈥拟叠厂

Rocky Top and Thunderhead Mountain to Beechnut Gap, North Carolina/Tennessee (2.8 Miles: 184鈥�186.8)

The 72-mile path that the AT takes through Great Smoky Mountains National Park could have commandeered nearly three-quarters of this list, but that would be a copout. Still, less than 200 miles into a northbound journey, the Smokies offer a quick study on how the trail will push you around (if you take four days to hike the Smokies, the adage goes, you will encounter four seasons) and how stunning the whole thing will be. I love the wide-open views from Rocky Top and Thunderhead, plus how quickly you exit and reenter tree line. (There are some century-old names carved into rocks along the trail, too, predating the park itself.) And I have a distinct memory of being battered by wind so much that these mountains, as low-slung and ancient as they are, reasserted their power. 鈥擥贬颁

Max Patch Road to Lemon Gap, North Carolina (6.2 Miles: 254.6鈥�260.8)

Before and after my first AT thru-hike, I lived in a cabin a few ridges over from Max Patch, one of those scattered through the South. They can be so idyllic you will feel like you鈥檙e in a beautiful dream. It was essentially my backyard, so I鈥檝e hiked to, on, and around the iconic spot maybe more than anywhere else. Still, I鈥檇 accept an invitation right now. A panopticon of Appalachian grace, it offers views of multiple states, distant ridgelines, and several river drainages. And the northbound descent down its gentle slopes and across multiple creeks into Lemon Gap exemplifies the woods of the region鈥攚ildflowers sprouting through the damp forest floor in spring, a look at the bones of some of the world鈥檚 oldest mountains with fall鈥檚 arrival. 鈥擥贬颁

Views of the Nolichucky River to Beauty Spot, Tennessee/North Carolina (11.7 Miles: 343.5鈥�355.2)

Talk to a veteran AT hiker, and chances are you鈥檒l get a strong opinion about the green tunnel, or the prevailing sense that you鈥檙e mostly navigating 2,200 miles of tree cover from Georgia to Maine. They鈥檒l say it鈥檚 boring or it鈥檚 beautiful. I say it鈥檚 both, and the moments when it breaks affirm that. As you head into Erwin, Tenn., the trees split onto postcard-worthy shots of the Nolichucky River鈥檚 gorge far below. And after you cross the river (post-Tropical Storm Helene, you鈥檒l do it ), you鈥檒l steadily ascend a series of gaps and ridges, views offered by powerline clearings and natural overlooks alike. Just shy of 4,500 feet, you鈥檒l reach Beauty Spot, a mountaintop meadow ringed by little trees, so picturesque you may be tempted to make it your permanent address. I first encountered Beauty Spot after getting off trail for a funeral; it was the sight that galvanized my northward quest. 鈥擥贬颁

Cloudland Hotel on Roan Mountain to Little Hump Mountain, Tennessee/North Carolina (9.3 Miles: 378.7鈥�388.0)

I have always struggled with the obvious question: What is your favorite part of the Appalachian Trail? No one ever accepts 鈥渁ll of it,鈥� so I soon launch into a list that feels just shy of 鈥渁ll of it.鈥� But if my life depended on recommending one stretch, this right here is the one: From the top of rhododendron-crowned Roan Mountain, where remnants of the grand remain, you drop into a seesaw of dips and dives, the rugged old trail carved across the faces of some of the oldest mountains in the world. You cross three balds in a little more than a mile, drop way down, and then climb Little Hump Mountain. (The section misses some charm now since the loss of the fabled , but it still goes.) I stupidly camped on its flanks once during a strong storm, and weathering that felt like preparation for future, bigger adventures. The next morning, the sky was all cotton candy, and I briefly wondered if I might have slipped off in my sleep toward heaven. 鈥擥贬颁

Dennis Cove Road to Laurel Fork Falls, Tennessee聽(1.2 Miles: 420.3-421.5)

Located in the just outside of Hampton, Tenn., a strenuous stretch of trail takes you to the 40-foot tall, 50-foot wide Laurel Fork Falls. While springtime air temperatures are often in the high 70s or low 80s, the falls are notoriously cold. That doesn鈥檛 stop hikers from going for a soak, even in early spring. My trail family and I packed out a few beverages from the Black Bear Resort and stuck them in the water during our ice baths. By the time we were done splashing, they were ready to sip. 鈥拟叠厂

Buzzard Rock to Mount Rogers, Virginia (7.3 Miles: 491.9-499.2)

By the time I made it to Buzzard Rock, I finally had my trail legs. The climb to the summit of Buzzard Rock is a little bit of a monster, but for the first time in nearly 500 miles, the strain barely phased me. What鈥檚 more, the whole section offered 360-degree views, made even more beautiful by springtime blossoms. The bald-style peaks in this region make for consistent views across the , a stretch of trail known for wild ponies grazing around Wilburn Ridge. 鈥拟叠厂

McAfee Knob to Tinker Cliffs, Virginia (5.6 Miles: 714.5鈥�720.1)

is the most photographed overlook along the Appalachian Trail鈥攁nd for good reason, since the view it offers feels so epic. But truthfully, I found nearby Tinker Cliffs to be equally stunning, minus the crowds. After McAfee Knob, the trail winds through trees and shrubs before climbing through some boulders to a cliffside that gives you access to several different overlook options. You can complete the Virginia 鈥淭riple Crown鈥� by adding the .听鈥拟叠厂

The Roller Coaster, Virginia (14.0 Miles: 996.4-1,010.4)

Reaching the 1,000-mile mark of a northbound thru-hike, which you do during this infamous stretch, is a bit of an emotional rollercoaster in itself, but these 14 miles are better known for their literal ups and downs. The elevation profile is so tedious and repetitive it鈥檚 almost comedic. I carried an avocado for a friend through this section, contemplating whether or not I should just eat it myself to save my knees from 7 ounces of extra weight. My spirit proved valiant despite more than 3,500 feet of gain. After failing to find my friend after three days, I sliced the avocado into fat chunks, placed it on a burger I bought, and ate it myself, anyway.听鈥拟叠厂

Harpers Ferry, West Virginia (4.4 Miles: 1,025.4鈥�1,029.8)

The AT鈥檚 2,200 miles are chockablock with history, from the indigenous thoroughfares it overlaps to the battlefields it bypasses. But few places in the United States are crucibles of the country鈥檚 struggles and progress quite like . A gap in the ridge and the confluence of the Potomac and Shenandoah rivers so close to D.C. essentially ensured important events, like the de facto start of the Civil War, would occur here. An idyllic town suspended in amber, Harpers Ferry is glorious on a spring day. Cross the Shenandoah by footbridge and then the Potomac (and into Maryland). Cruise the first few miles of the state on the C&O Canal Trail, surrounded by lush woods and families pushing strollers. The home of the Appalachian Trail Conservancy (happy anniversary, and thanks!), Harpers Ferry offers a perfect break at what we call the AT鈥檚 鈥渆motional halfway point.鈥� 鈥擥贬颁

New Jersey-New York State Line (1.9 Miles: 1,369.7鈥�1,371.6)

A recovering van dweller, I was a state-line enthusiast long before I began thru-hiking, curious about how sometimes-arbitrary distinctions between this and that could impact people鈥檚 lives. Maybe the AT made a zealot out of me, crisscrossing as it does 14 states. My favorite crossing happens when, after dancing across the border multiple times, the northbound trail exits New Jersey (great AT state, by the way, for real) into New York. The distinction is painted blaze-white on a massive hunk of rock, part of a series of very brief scrambles (with occasional ladders for help) and open rock faces that offer expansive views of tree-lined ridges, deep blue lakes, and small towns. Few other bits of the AT are quite like it. Bonus: You鈥檙e very close to , some of the trail鈥檚 best ice cream. 鈥擥贬颁

Bear Mountain Recreation Area to Anthony鈥檚 Nose, New York (2.3 Miles: 1,408.2-1,410.5)

The stretch of Appalachian Trail that runs past New York City marks an odd juxtaposition between the trail鈥檚 quiet backcountry and civilization. I made it to just聽before Father鈥檚 Day on a balmy summer afternoon, noticing locals gathering for picnics near the lake. Upon reaching Bear鈥檚 summit, I spotted a rattlesnake, poised and ready to strike, just seconds before I peered across the New York skyline. Continuing north, I made my way past a small zoo before crossing the Hudson River on the Bear Mountain Bridge. By the time I reached Anthony鈥檚 Nose on the other side, my brain was still processing a rattlesnake, a skyline, a zoo, and a sprawling bridge in a matter of miles. 鈥拟叠厂

Route 9/Split Rock to Glastenbury Mountain, Vermont (10.4 Miles: 1,618.0鈥�1,628.4)

Vermont doesn鈥檛 get the Appalachian Trail love it deserves. If you鈥檙e headed north, you鈥檙e anticipating the big bosses at the end; if you鈥檙e headed south, you鈥檙e anticipating the four-state rush that begins with Massachusetts. But the 151-mile stretch through Vermont is memorable because of its seasonal mud, its rendezvous with the Long Trail, and its absolute wealth of rich forests, broad meadows, and dreamy ponds. Easily accessible from Bennington, this 10-mile span is an unexpected gem in the . You鈥檒l pass through a striking split rock, ford a stream, navigate slippery boardwalks through forest so green it feels like a sea of melted crayon, and slowly climb nearly 2,000 feet to a lookout tower where the woods blur into a horizon of endless ridges and sky. Get there at sunset, and you鈥檒l instantly understand that Vermont is possibly the AT鈥檚 most gently exquisite state. 鈥擥贬颁

Franconia Ridge to Mount Garfield, New Hampshire聽(7.0 Miles: 1,827.0鈥�1,834.0)

greeted me with 50-mile-per-hour winds, making it difficult to stand at my full height. Still, the views were worth it. The majority of this trail section is above treeline, making it high on exposure but easy on the eyes. As the day wore on, the wind died down just in time for me to make the steep climb up majestic Mount Garfield, studded with tiny trees like so many of its White Mountain kin.听鈥拟叠厂

Lost Pond to Carter Notch Hut, New Hampshire (5.2 Miles: 1,878.5鈥�1,883.7)

The White Mountains are not for the faint of heart, as the Wildcat Mountains taught me. This section of trail required rock scrambling, squeezing myself through small spaces, and crawling at a snail鈥檚 pace due to the relentless elevation gain. In fact, if this section were any steeper, it could be placed on the Yosemite Scale and given a rock-climbing grade. Some even call this the AT鈥檚 most challenging bit. One quality that makes the Whites so unique is its hut system. The Appalachian Mountain Club operates , a potential relief for hikers who are looking to get inside for a snack or stay. The Wildcat stretch includes the Carter Notch Hut鈥攓uiet, beautiful, and a great place for a cup of coffee before continuing on.听鈥拟叠厂

Mahoosuc Notch to Speck Pond Shelter, Maine (3.4 Miles: 1,922.0鈥�1,925.4)

For 2,000 miles of the AT, you will resent switchbacks and PUDS (that is, pointless ups-and-downs), all moves the trail makes to get you where you need to go without ruining the landscape. In Maine, where native son Stephen King must have convinced some poor trail builder that building switchbacks would haunt them, hikers face hard climbs. This wondrous little stretch starts with the Mahoosuc Notch, a mile-long jungle gym of enormous boulders that you will climb atop, under, and around. Finish that, and it鈥檚 time for the Mahoosuc Arm, a 1,600-foot climb on a little more than a mile of rock that鈥檚 so consistently wet it seems to be leaking grease. Finish that, and it鈥檚 time for your true reward: the glorious Speck Pond Shelter, one of the most stunning places to spend the night on the entire trip. 鈥擥贬颁

Pemadumcook Lake, Maine (2.7 Miles: 2,149.1鈥�2,151.8)

I will forever be grateful for the shores of Pemadumcook Lake, because that鈥檚 where, a few days into a trek of the , I inexplicably found a bag of unopened Pop-Tarts, my favorite trail food. I ate them all. But when I see photos of that moment, I am wowed again by how massive Mount Katahdin appears on the horizon, though it鈥檚 still 50 trail miles north. In its isolation, especially against a pale blue morning, it looks like the continent鈥檚 biggest peak. No wonder . If you鈥檙e heading north, summit fever will soon set in, so take time to enjoy the way Katahdin frames this placid Maine lake. And maybe eat a Pop-Tart? 鈥擥贬颁

Katahdin Spring Campground to Katahdin Summit, Maine聽(5.2 Miles: 2,192.2鈥�2,197.4)

Within days of finding my trail family in Georgia, our peers dubbed us 鈥渢he Breakfast Club,鈥� because we were infamous for waking up before the sun to catch sunrise on a summit somewhere. My hiking partner and I tackled Katahdin in the same spirit, rising from our quarters at Katahdin Spring Campground at 3 a.m. before beginning the ascent. Halfway up the climb, we turned to the sky and glimpsed the Milky Way, peppering the darkness with color. We slogged on, equal parts ecstatic and devastated to be nearly done. By the time we reached the summit of Katahdin, the sun winked over the horizon, making us some of the first people to greet a new day along the east coast while we ended our thru-hike. 鈥拟叠厂

The post What Are the 100 Best Miles of the Appalachian Trail? We Asked Two Thru-Hikers to Choose. appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

Jack Jones was not a cheat-code kid.

When he played computer games like World of Warcraft or EverQuest, Jones always wanted to know about the next level, where the struggles and the stakes would both be a bit higher. This characteristic hasn’t changed. Jones, now 38, is better known as Quadzilla, a hiking powerhouse famous not only for the gams that gave him his trail name, as well as his , and his righteous political advocacy, but also for his willingness to push new extremes. Midway through a 100-mile race in 2021, for instance, Jones decided that he would pursue the Calendar-Year Triple Crown in 2022: the Appalachian, Continental Divide, and Pacific Crest trails in the same year. , Jones opted to level up in a different way during 2024: to hike the entire while spending just $1,000 total on gear, food, and shelter.

鈥淚 knew I could hike the AT, that I could do 30-mile days,鈥� Jones tells me from Vietnam, where the Army veteran has begun an indefinite self-imposed political exile. 鈥淚 knew this might force me to go two weeks without a shower. It might force me to eat a whole chicken in a Walmart parking lot鈥攁nd then continue on.鈥�

So on May 21, 2024, Jones鈥攁nd a younger hiking friend, Tate 鈥淧yro鈥� Dobson鈥攍eft the trail鈥檚 southern terminus in Georgia, carrying he鈥檇 methodically made himself or ordered after hours of research on AliExpress, a sort of Chinese Etsy-meets-Amazon in overdrive. In the past, Jones had carried backpacks that cost more, but he was attempting to reach Maine with an , an , and shoes he purchased on clearance. 鈥淚t was my extra layer of challenge,鈥� he says, grinning. 鈥淏eing a little more creative to be a little more comfortable is fun.鈥�

The sacrifices came quickly. Aiming to finish in less than 100 days, or just more than half of the six-month average, Jones left Georgia late, which exposed him to the soaring Southern heat. An early encounter with a poison ivy stand left him with a massive rash that he suspects he could have mitigated with more showers and laundry. Those, however, would have cost money he intended to save.

The poison ivy was but a prologue for what came next, for what Jones worried would cost him not only his budget hike but also his left leg. He鈥檇 struggled with shoe selection; thru-hikes can often burn the tread and compress the cushion in a half-dozen pairs, a line item that can push a grand itself. Jones had ordered multiple shoes from AliExpress, only to realize that their floppy construction and nearly non-existent grip created their own dangers. So when he found a deeply discounted set of used name-brand kicks at REI, he rejoiced. 鈥淭urns out, if there鈥檚 a whole bunch of used stock of a shoe,鈥� he says, 鈥渋t鈥檚 probably junk.鈥�

Less than 200 miles into the hike, a plastic piece inside the shoe began cutting into his foot. He knew he needed something else, so, in desperation, he grabbed a pair of waterproof trail runners from a North Carolina . Not long after he entered Virginia, the fever and cramps began, an infection steadily spreading up his left leg in visible lines. He caught a ride to an urgent care with a prison guard, happily popped open a bottle of antibiotics, and found a free place to stay courtesy of an old friend who happened to be a doctor.

鈥淚f I鈥檇 let that go for a week, I could have died. It was that serious,鈥� says Jones. 鈥淚 got cut because I tried to be cheap with shoes. So there鈥檚 a lesson, right? Don鈥檛 cheat on footwear.鈥�

Jones knew his budget was permanently blown, since he estimated the doctor visit would cost him $250. (He hasn鈥檛 been billed yet, either thanks to a mistake or Missouri Medicaid; he鈥檚 not asking.) He opted to relax just enough to buy what was necessary鈥攊ncluding new Altras for the rest of the trail鈥攂ut not to splurge. He made it to New York, or two states beyond the AT鈥檚 halfway mark, on his preset $1,000. By the time he鈥檇 reached the northern endpoint at Mount Katahdin, after tacking on the tricky northern half of Vermont鈥檚 Long Trail and slowing down to enjoy Maine鈥檚 splendor, he鈥檇 spent $2,397.19, or less than half of the

Several lessons鈥攂uying robust hiking shoes included鈥攅merged on the way to Maine. Where candy bars were once a fast-fuel staple of Jones’s diet, he realized they weren鈥檛 as cost-efficient as he鈥檇 assumed. He didn鈥檛 eat one on the entire trail. Instead, he made his own trail mix, combining cashews with coconut flakes and chocolate chips from the baking aisle, turning $10 into 100 miles of calories. For dinner, he stayed steady with two packets of Ramen noodles and a few spoons of peanut butter. This might, he says, have been his most nutritious thru-hike.

He would often camp on the edges of towns, too, so that he could get in and out with groceries while avoiding the temptation to sit down for an expensive restaurant meal, or to book a room. And in towns where he did stop, he looked to split a hotel room or hostel with other hikers, opting for a spot with a kitchen whenever possible so that they could cook big, cheap meals. And when a fast-food opportunity presented itself, Jones knew to look first for an app before ordering. His first restaurant meal came at a Tennessee McDonald鈥檚, several hundred miles into his trip. 鈥�2,000 calories for $3?鈥� he says, beaming as if reliving the experience in real time. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 amazing.鈥�

As Jones walked, he kept a , clocking the costs of his resupplies and stays. I鈥檓 struck by the restraint evident in those numbers. If you鈥檝e ever gone to a grocery store while hungry, you know well the temptation to throw everything into the cart. But he broke $80 only once, with many of his purchases landing around $35.

There are some higher-level takeaways, too, from Jones’ extreme budgeting. Jones is a longtime practitioner of Vipassana meditation, having done nearly ten silent retreats. He doesn鈥檛 maintain a formal practice on trail, because he鈥檇 fall asleep so fast, but it alters the way he handles hardships outside. 鈥淚 knew it wasn鈥檛 going to be hot forever. I knew I wasn鈥檛 going to have poison ivy forever,鈥� he says. 鈥淚 try to maintain an equanimity of my mind and an awareness of my body, so if it鈥檚 cold, I can stop myself from saying 鈥業 wish I wasn鈥檛 cold.鈥� It鈥檚 a constant process.鈥�

He also had his physical fitness to thank. If you鈥檝e seen a , you know Jones is something of a beast鈥攁 veteran who started a Crossfit gym and went on to fight wildland fires, , and capture one of the rarest feats in American hiking with the Calendar-Year Triple Crown. His legs appear sculpted in marble by Michelangelo. But the more you can do to start a trail strong rather than relying on the trail to condition you while you walk, the faster you can move and the more money you can save. 鈥淚f it took me twice as long to do it,鈥� he says, 鈥渕y cost might have doubled. Being in shape is a big one.鈥�

Jones acknowledges that hiking on such a minuscule budget raises some ethical concerns, particularly when it comes to his gear. He knows that the down in the jacket he eventually left in a hiker box wasn鈥檛 sustainably sourced, and he knows that all of the gear he ordered on AliExpress was so cheap because the wages are low. But these, he says, are issues beyond the bounds of a thru-hike, questions that somebody slipping into the woods for a few months cannot answer. 鈥淪omeone shouldn鈥檛 be kept out of the outdoors because they can鈥檛 afford the most 鈥榚thical鈥� gear,鈥� he says. 鈥淚f someone鈥檚 making good money, then, yes, buy all the cottage brands and support them. But there is no clear-cut answer here.鈥�

There is a possible alternative, though. Jones鈥� hiking partner, Pyro, didn鈥檛 try to stick to $1,000 as a theoretical exercise or a challenge to himself. When he headed east to join Jones, he estimates he had $1,500 available for the whole trip. In the two weeks between deciding to join Jones鈥� mission and leaving for it, Pyro mailed some old shoes to assorted points along the trail and made his own backpack.

For 2,200 miles, Pyro raided hiker boxes for the best snacks he could find, dumpster-dove to find chocolate milk (鈥淚t was hot, but it tasted fine.鈥�) and baby formula, and accepted the generosity of strangers, including a free pair of used shoes from a trail angel. He learned that a plastic bag full of spaghetti and eggs is a very cheap and delicious meal to pack out of town, and that shoes can be stitched together with mere dental floss. He barely bought new gear at all, and he spent $1,300.

I asked Pyro if he could have made it for $1,000, after all. 鈥淭hat was never my goal, but easy,鈥� he says, laughing. 鈥淎ll you have to do is go out to eat less.鈥�

The post He Tried to Hike the Appalachian Trail on a $1,000 Budget. Here鈥檚 What He Learned. appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

On Tuesday morning, three days after Hurricane Helene ravaged swaths of the Southeastern United States, I began making calls to old friends and hiking experts who live along the Appalachian Trail.

I had seen the of Hot Springs, North Carolina鈥攁 place I called home for years and one of the few towns the 2,200-mile trail bisects via sidewalk鈥攄rowned in the brown waters of an incoming creek and the mighty French Broad. I had seen images of the in Erwin, Tennessee, which leads just past one of the trail鈥檚 famous hostels and from one sweeping ridgeline to another. And I had seen the near Damascus, Virginia, one of the trail鈥檚 spiritual epicenters, cracked in pieces like overcooked pecan brittle. I had seen reports of the 220 dead and many more missing. Communities of longtime friends were entirely marooned, and little towns I鈥檇 cherished as a lifelong Southerner were ripped open like wet cardboard聽boxes.

I asked them about the state of the trail鈥攁 pathway that has changed so many lives (including my own). I assumed the worst, that it was either washed away or buried by landslides in extended stretches. Online prognosticators didn’t improve my assumption.

鈥淥ne-third of this trail is destroyed,鈥� a TikToker named said in a by Wednesday. Using a map of the AT as her greenscreen, she speculated about the devastation. 鈥淭his catastrophic storm is actually going to change the map of North Carolina and Tennessee, the actual topography.鈥�

But my phone calls yielded a surprise. As best as anyone can tell right now, the claims of complete destruction aren鈥檛 true, either for the AT or for the half-dozen other long-distance trails that radiate through the lower reaches of some of the world鈥檚 oldest mountains. Misinformation and assumptions based on that request鈥攁nd then broadcast for TikTok likes鈥攎ake a bad situation worse, unnecessarily adding to the weight of a region鈥檚 already seismic loss. The Appalachian Trail is a point of pride for people there, for people in the midst of losing everything; saying it is destroyed based on no data adds insult to inestimable injury.

While it is true that the Appalachian Trail Conservancy, the nonprofit that helps manage the path and the lands surrounding it, has , or its lower third, it is not true that those miles are destroyed. Sources I spoke to talked of toppled trees, down branches, and flooding.

鈥淚t should be posted that鈥攐n four miles of this 2,200-mile trail鈥攖here鈥檚 a lot of devastation. It鈥檚 four miles of flood devastation like I鈥檝e never seen before,鈥� Warren Doyle, a longtime AT expert and the person who’s hiked the AT more than anyone else ever, told me Wednesday afternoon. Doyle鈥檚 estimation takes in the stretches that pass through the towns hit the hardest along the trail. 鈥淏ut that doesn鈥檛 mean you close the whole trail down,” he said.

The same seems to hold for the , which takes an alternate path through the Appalachians. 鈥淣othing out of the ordinary鈥攂ranches, limbs, and a few blowdowns,鈥� the president of the trail鈥檚 association, Bob Cowdrick, told me late Wednesday of the trail鈥檚 southern half. He hopes to get eyes on the rest of it within two weeks.

But information on trail conditions remains scant, as efforts to save lives and communities continue. In that light, the ATC鈥檚 request is reasonable.

Joshua Niven and Amber Adams Niven live just outside of Hot Springs, the Appalachian Trail oasis 275 miles north of the southern terminal. Its famous outfitter has been ripped apart like a box of candy by a black bear.听It is the Nivens鈥� favorite place in the world, Joshua tells me, and it will not be a functioning trail town for a while. The safety of its own residents, of course, is paramount now.

But Niven can see the trail from his window, and he seems almost sanguine about its status. He and Amber are chronicle of the trail for Falcon Guides; he ticks through the places in those first 865 miles that may be a problem and names surprisingly few鈥攑erhaps the Roan Highlands, where Tennessee, Virginia, and North Carolina meet, or maybe聽the steep embankments leading north out of Hot Springs itself. Like Doyle, he is concerned for the tiny Appalachian towns themselves but suggests workarounds for hikers.

鈥淪aturated trees鈥攖hat鈥檚 always going to be a thing. But I haven鈥檛 seen anything that鈥檚 catastrophic that a hiker couldn鈥檛 navigate,鈥� Joshua said, adding the caveat that there will likely be pockets where destruction is greater. 鈥淚t might be unpleasant, given how many trees are there,” he said. “What鈥檚 the issue with hiking in woods that have trees down?鈥�

And there are, of course, a lot of trees. To put it in perspective, the highest point on the Appalachian Trail is , at 6,644 feet (The entire range tops out at 6,684.) There are many trailheads on the Pacific Crest Trail and the Continental Divide Trail higher than that. This means that the AT rarely exits treeline鈥攖hat is the essence of its so-called 鈥済reen tunnel.鈥� It鈥檚 constantly passing through terrain where wet ground and even mild winds can clot the trail with a seemingly infinite number of downed trees. That鈥檚 the worry.

Betsy Brown is the associate director of Friends of the , an 1,175-mile path that meets the AT atop Kuwohi before extending聽east toward the North Carolina coast. More than a third of the trail is , as employees await reconnaissance on its conditions. So far, one volunteer has been able to hike just two miles near the famous Blue Ridge Parkway, which has been . There were 27 new trees across it. That kind of cleanup will take time to complete.

鈥淭he trees down is a huge problem,鈥� says Brown. 鈥淏ut the bigger problem is that, in these more remote places, our volunteer crews are smaller, with vigorous retirees. Having to walk in with chainsaws and fuel is hard. And for now, they鈥檙e dealing with their own issues, just trying to get back to normal.鈥�

Indeed, time will be key to reversing the damage鈥攏ot outright destruction, at least in most places鈥攐n the trail. Dan Ryan, who works with land stewards along the AT, outlined an extended process for clearing the trail of downed trees and fixing any sections where running water ripped it asunder.

He told me that, over the next month, the National Forest Service and National Park Service will assess damaged areas and offer a report about what needs to be done where. Only then, Ryan said, can the ATC begin deploying its half-dozen volunteer trail crews to begin work. Restoring every mile, he said, may take years; some of its most beautiful places have been forever changed, as hiker and runner Sarah Baker recently noted at the Walnut Mountain trailhead, an exquisite bit of Appalachia. Ryan worries, too, about the damage so many newly downed trees might have on long-term ecosystem health, from new pests to wildfire risks. But they have to start somewhere.

鈥淭rail clubs are champing聽at the bit to get out and help,鈥� Ryan said. 鈥淚t won鈥檛 be a challenge of deploying resources, because those are in place, regardless. It鈥檚 just a matter of putting them where they need to be鈥攊n safe conditions, in the priorities those agencies have dictated to us.鈥�

While these agencies assess damage and determine how to address it, the ATC is advising that hikers鈥攅ven southbound thru-hikers, with less than 1,000 miles left in their walks鈥攖o stay off trail. Visitors will require resources from towns simply trying to survive and rebuild, like Hot Springs. Again, this seems reasonable enough. But I also understand the perspective of Doyle, who sees the trail as an absolute avenue of liberation and is still more than miffed about the ATC’s stance on Covid-19 back in early 2020, when the trail was actually closed.

鈥淚t is another liability-informed directive from the ATC,鈥� he told me. 鈥淚t鈥檚 an overreaction.鈥�

Still, even Doyle鈥攑erhaps the AT’s most important living evangelist鈥攈ad to change his plans for the week when he learned how many trees had fallen near his home not far from flood-ravaged Damascus, Virginia, one of the epicenters of AT hiking culture. On Tuesday, he took five new students at his Appalachian Trail Institute for a six-mile hike. I鈥檝e done that walk in Doyle鈥檚 weeklong seminar before, and it takes a few easy hours. His students spent six arduous hours climbing over fallen trees.

So on Wednesday, he dropped them off again, and told them to hike two hours in one direction, and then walk back to the car. The damage is extensive, he told me, but it can be overcome. 鈥淲hen they came out of the woods yesterday, they were talking and laughing. They worked as a team, and they learned a lot of important things about each other,鈥� he said, sitting in his car, awaiting their return. 鈥淭hey experienced adversity.鈥�

Doyle knows, of course, that such adversity withers in comparison to what his neighbors are facing just down the mountain road. But he鈥檚 still proud to be teaching people to get ready to hike the AT, hopefully next year.

The post Did Hurricane Helene Really Destroy One-Third of the Appalachian Trail? appeared first on 国产吃瓜黑料 Online.

Brad Smith hiked into Damascus, Virginia, on the Appalachian Trail just as the rain from Hurricane Helene thickened into a torrent.

鈥淭he last 6 miles was the worst weather I鈥檝e been outside in, and I鈥檓 49鈥 could have kayaked off the mountain if I had one,鈥� he wrote in a message. 鈥淭he trail was a small river. Guessing I was one of the last customers at the Damascus Diner before Laurel Creek took it and the street over.鈥�

More than are dead and many more are missing after Helene carved a 500-mile-long path of devastation through the southeastern United States with 30 people losing their lives in North Carolina鈥檚 Buncombe County alone. Among the hardest-hit communities were trail towns in Tennessee, North Carolina, and Virginia that some of the AT鈥檚 best-known businesses and trail angels call home.

Drew 鈥淏irdman鈥� Glines, an Appalachian Trail thru-hiker, rafting guide, and North Carolina local told Backpacker that the 鈥渄evastation鈥� inflicted on riverside communities was hard to describe.

鈥淩oads and bridges have been completely destroyed, making some areas still completely inaccessible to even emergency vehicles,鈥� he wrote in an email.

While destinations like the Nantahala Outdoor Center, the Western Smokies, Gatlinburg, and Pigeon Ford escaped major harm from the hurricane, other areas were not so lucky. Glines rattled off a list of landmarks affected by the hurricane.

鈥� in Roan was flooded. Hot Springs was hard hit鈥s was Hartford,鈥� he wrote. 鈥� is devastated.鈥� The majority of western North Carolina is out of cell service, water, and power, although 鈥榙isaster roaming鈥� has allowed locals to connect to any functioning network in the wake of the tragedy. The town of Asheville is still largely isolated due to infrastructure damage and washed-out roads.

On Trail When the Hurricane Hit

Smith wasn鈥檛 the only hiker caught in the weather. Lisa Woodward was hiking through Great Smoky Mountains National Park in Tennessee when the hurricane struck.

鈥淸We] experienced torrential downpours and wind gusts of up to 80 miles per hour or so at almost 6,000 feet elevation,鈥� she wrote in a message. 鈥淗ad to take a zero on Fri. at TriCorner Knob Shelter to wait out the worst of it. Made it out on Sunday via the Low Gap Trail to Cosby CampGround, where Ken from Discerning Hiker Hostel 鈥榬escued鈥� us.鈥�

Mollie Dembek was on trail near Hot Springs when the weather turned.

鈥淚 was at Flint Mountain Shelter, north of Hot Springs, NC when it started raining HARD on Tuesday,鈥� she wrote. 鈥淚 decided to hike the next day to Hemlock Hollow Hostel and Campground in Greeneville, TN the next day to get out of the rain. I am SO GLAD I did. I stayed the night there, warm and dry, but was watching the weather and news the entire time growing more and more anxious,鈥� she said.

Dembek was able to make it to Asheville to stay with a friend. On Saturday, they decided to leave the area. Strangers lent her gas money at a station in Weaverville that was only accepting cash. (鈥淭hey said it was 鈥榯rail magic,鈥� she recalls. 鈥淚 absolutely started crying.鈥�)

鈥淭hey ended up following us over the mountains because we were able to get turn by turn directions from my friend using my Garmin InReach,鈥� she wrote. 鈥淚 was able to communicate with friends and family using my Garmin and got seven people to safety because of the technology. I was never so grateful to get to Maryville, TN and get a cell signal.鈥�

Hot Springs, North Carolina. My grandfather鈥檚 summer mountain pasture was over on Spring Creek, near this lovely little town.

鈥� Anne Margaret Daniel (@venetianblonde)

While locals are still fighting for their lives, other members of the trail community are rallying to support them. Trail Angels like 鈥溾�� Hensley of Erwin, Tennessee are scrambling to support flooded communities in the wake of the tragedy. Matthew 鈥淥die鈥� Norman, a thru-hiker, trail angel, and former owner of the Hiker Yearbook, was in New Jersey for the hurricane but is preparing to drive south to support local trail communities.

Trail Organizations Warn Hikers to Stay Away for Now

Determining when hiking should resume in the southern part of the Appalachian Trail is a sensitive topic. Norman said that 鈥渕ost hikers should not attempt to hike in the south at this time.鈥�

In a statement, the Appalachian Trail Conservancy (ATC) warned visitors to stay off trail between Springer Mountain (NOBO Mile 0) and Rockfish Gap (NOBO Mile 864.6).

鈥淥ver the coming weeks and months, the ATC will be working with the National Park Service, U.S. Forest Service, and state and local partners to inventory the damage to the treadway, trailheads, bridges, overnight sites, privies and other A.T. features,鈥� the organization said. 鈥淟andslides and falling trees could continue for some time, so we ask volunteers and trail crews to pause work on this section of the Trail and to coordinate closely with regional ATC teams.鈥�

Hensley said that the devastation in trail communities like Damascus and Hot Springs is 鈥渄ire.鈥�

鈥淭hese communities are asking us to please stay away鈥hey cannot handle the infrastructure or any people walking into town,鈥� she said. In the event that hikers choose to continue hiking through southern Appalachia and they get into trouble, she adds, emergency services are unlikely to be able to help in a timely fashion.

Hensley said that hikers should stay informed and start making plans once they reach Virginia.

鈥淲hen people come through the Shenandoah they need to be deciding what they鈥檙e going to do,鈥� she said. 鈥淏ut hiking through this area would be ridiculous and it鈥檚 going to put lives on the line.鈥�

Norman said he recognizes that as the weeks stretch on, deciding when it鈥檚 the right time to hit the trail again could pose a difficult question鈥攁nd that different hikers could have different answers.

鈥淭he hiking community will be walking a tightrope in the next few months. Should hikers continue their hike? Would it be detrimental to the trail towns? What if there鈥檚 an emergency and emergency services are already stretched thin?鈥� he said. 鈥淏ut there are other questions: what if hikers have nowhere to go? What if they鈥檙e hiking off war, drug addiction, any number of traumatic events? What if they鈥檙e hiking to help?鈥�

One thing Norman is certain of: When hikers are able to come and help, they will.

鈥淚 can tell you for a fact that I watched hikers assist trail towns in 2020 and they will do it again in 2024,鈥� he said. 鈥淚t will not be publicized on Facebook, it will not be filmed, it is not done for recognition, it is done because that鈥檚 what hikers do.鈥�

Readers looking for guidance and direction around post-hurricane support can find more information from the . Official trail closures are available on the .听

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There鈥檚 something about late summer. The last of the snow melts, the summer rains stop, and the air finally begins to cool. In short: it鈥檚 the perfect weather for a long hike. Or鈥攊f you happen to be a top-tier endurance athlete鈥攆or smashing your heroes鈥� records to smithereens.

Over the last few weeks, trails across the United States have seen some stunning new (FKTs). What鈥檚 more, they鈥檝e been rolling out at a pace that鈥檚 left our news team scrambling to cover them all. From an astonishing controversial three-hours sprint up the Grand Teton, to a grueling 40-day, 18-hour Appalachian Trail sufferfest, it鈥檚 been a fast, fast summer.

The season鈥檚 perfect weather鈥攃ool, dry, mercilessly free of wildfire smoke in many regions鈥攈as helped bolster the rate of new records. But a big part of the uptick may actually be post-pandemic timing.

鈥淭here was a during Covid,鈥� said Will Peterson, who set a new FKT on Vermont鈥檚 272-mile Long Trail FKT on September 1. 鈥淪ome people went back to doing races, but many athletes have stuck around because they got into FKTs during the pandemic and really liked it.鈥�

According to Peterson, FKTs have become more respected over the past few years鈥攚hich has made them a target for big-name celebrity runners as well as speedy underdogs who would normally eschew traditional competitions.

鈥淚n some ways, it’s more accessible and more relatable than running races,鈥� Peterson said. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 why I got into it鈥攊t鈥檚 something anyone can do. You don鈥檛 have to have a ton of money or sponsorships to go out and set an FKT.鈥�

Today, more people seem to be chasing long-trail records than ever before, Peterson said. Between the increased awareness and expanded pool of contenders鈥攎any of whom have now been training for exactly this sort of objective for several years鈥攊t鈥檚 perhaps no wonder that record-setting is entering a golden age. Here鈥檚 a look at five perfect case studies from this summer.

Brent Herring Fought Hallucinations to Score a Colorado Trail FKT

On August 22, Durango, Colorado-based endurance athlete and skimo racer kicked off FKT season when he stumbled across the finish line of the 500-mile Colorado Trail with a new self-supported record. His time鈥�10 days, 17 hours, and 38 minutes鈥攚as about four days faster than the women鈥檚 record, which set in 2020.

While popular, the Colorado Trail is no walk in the park. Many hikers need four to six weeks. After all, the distance is only part of the challenge. Much of the route lies above 10,000 feet, and numerous grueling climbs and mountain passes rack up around 90,000 feet in total vertical gain. On his very first day on the trail, Herring suffered from heat exhaustion and nearly quit. A week later, he started , another symptom of extreme fatigue. But he pushed through to the finish, cruising into his hometown just after midnight where his wife鈥攁nd a large pizza鈥攚ere waiting.

Anton Krupicka Ran the LA Freeway in Just Over 13 Hours

On August 31, ultrarunner Anton Krupicka practically sprinted the , a 34-mile traverse of the Continental Divide, which he took down in just over 13 hours. The route is as technical as it is long: It includes considerable stretches of fourth- and fifth-class terrain and connects the highest points of Colorado鈥檚 Indian Peaks Wilderness and Rocky Mountain National Park. The entirety of the traverse lies above 12,000 feet in elevation.

To prep, Krupicka spent as much time at altitude as possible. 鈥淚 climbed Longs Peak 30 times over the course of the summer,鈥� he said. 鈥淏ut to be honest, I didn鈥檛 think I was going to set the record this year.鈥� He鈥檇 initially planned for a July attempt, but by then, the ephemeral streams lacing Colorado鈥檚 highcountry he would rely on for hydration had all but dried up. Krupicka knew the unsupported record would be impossible without on-route water.

鈥淚鈥檇 pretty much given up,鈥� he said. But a last-ditch reconnaissance mission in August revealed reemerging springs after a few weeks of heavy rain. Krupicka immediately started prepping for a record attempt. On August 31, he went for it鈥攁nd finished the route in a cool 13 hours, 20 minutes, and 48 seconds, shaving more than three hours off runner Kyle Richardson鈥檚 2018 time.

Will Peterson Broke the Long Trail鈥檚 Four-Day Barrier

Over Labor Day weekend, thru-hiker Will Peterson scored the overall FKT on America鈥檚 oldest thru-hike: the 272-mile Long Trail in Vermont. He completed the route in just three days, 21 hours, and ten minutes. In doing so, he became the first person to finish the trail in under four days, and beat the previous record by more than six hours. The feat comes about a year after Peterson set the trail鈥檚 unsupported record in August of 2023.

For Peterson, the early-September timing was purely related to the Labor-day school break he had: as a third-year medical school student, weekends and holidays are pretty much the only time he has to bust out big multi-day adventures. During the week, he works or studies for eight to ten hours per day, and spends the rest of the time training.

To notch the record, Peterson averaged around 70 miles and up to 22,700 feet of elevation gain per day (which is a lot, even by ultrarunning standards) and relied on a team of 30 pacers and crew members鈥攐nly about half of whom he knew.

鈥淚 put out an appeal to the local running community, saying that I needed help with a supported attempt,鈥� he explained. 鈥淎bout half the people who responded were friends and family members. The rest were total strangers.鈥� But together, they helped him battle debilitating quad pain, long stretches of night running, and total exhaustion to crush his previous record by about 15 hours.

鈥淚t was truly a team effort,鈥� he said.

Michelino Senseri Attempted a Controversial FKT on the Grand Teton聽

On September 2, Idaho-based endurance athlete Michelino Senseri announced that he鈥檇 bagged a sub-three-hour speed record on Wyoming鈥檚 Grand Teton. In the following days, Fastest Known Time reviewed his claim鈥攁nd then rejected it.

In their review of his claim, Fastest Known Time noted that Sunseri cut at least one switchback. That means that, while he did climb the Grand in a very fast time, he did not follow the sanctioned route. Because he was essentially competing on a different field of play, his claim was ruled invalid.

His feat is still impressive. It takes most experienced climbers a full day to summit and descend the 13,770-foot peak. The fact that Sunseri was able to do it in just 2 hours, 50 minutes, and 50 seconds speaks to his athleticism and dedicated preparation: he completed more than 40 climbs of the Grand over the course of several years before making his effort. But a few decision-making errors cost him the ultimate triumph.

Tara Dower became the Appalachian Trail鈥檚 New Speed Queen聽

On September 21, just a few minutes to midnight, Virginia-based thru-hiker and endurance athlete Tara 鈥淐andy Mama鈥� Dower jogged the final hill to the top of Springer Mountain, the southern terminus of the Appalachian Trail. When the clock stopped at 40 days, 18 hours, and 5 minutes, she became the fastest human鈥攚oman or man鈥攖o complete the Appalachian Trail supported.

Dower ran an average of 54 miles per day to snatch the record from previous FKT-holder Karl Sabbe. She also ate upwards of 10,000 calories each day and woke up at 3:00 AM every morning to stay on pace. It paid off. In a , Dower called the feat 鈥渁 dream come true.鈥�

鈥淚f I鈥檓 to be honest I didn鈥檛 think it was possible,鈥� she wrote. 鈥淗owever, I had people on my crew who believed in my abilities and pushed me to my limits. That鈥檚 all it was.鈥�

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