Pennsylvania is roughly in the center of the Appalachian Mountain range, a true keystone to these ancient hills. It is fitting, then, that the halfway point of the Appalachian Trail occurs in the southern part of PA. Though it does move slightly from year to year as the trail is modified and rerouted. Luckily for me, with my home being Northeastern Pennsylvania, this allows me to complete just over half of my AT thru-hike and take a short break to visit home and see friends and family.
This town is significant not only for its history and natural beauty, but also as the headquarters of the Appalachian Trail Conservancy. The conservancy manages and protects the entire trail and its corridor. It’s a tradition among thru hikers to stop at the ATC and get their photo taken. And I naturally followed suit in the drizzly weather to make my entry to the book. I was the 592nd person to start the trail from Georgia in 2026. I am, so far, also just the 231st to make it to Harper’s Ferry.
Here, the confluence of the Shenandoah and Potomac Rivers also marks the perimeter of the circle of my family and friends. My relatives took me in and fed me for two days while also supporting me to “slackpack” halfway across Maryland, meaning they’d drop me off at the beginning of a section and pick me up at the end, allowing me to carry only water and food without camping gear. From there I’d only need one night in the woods to make it to my next aunt and uncle, right across the border in PA.
The West Virginia and Maryland sections of the trail go by quickly, with not much challenging terrain. The trail through Maryland is like a history tour, passing many monuments and crossing Civil War battlefields. Centuries-old stone walls crisscross the woods, and walking through there is like a glimpse into the past. Similar to the old stone walls found at Frances Slocum and throughout rural parts of NEPA, it’s hard to believe a farm field can evolve so quickly into a forest. Maryland’s Pen Mar Park sits atop the crest of South Mountain, with views into the Cumberland Valley below that make it difficult to identify the state border from above.
But just a little further up the trail, a simple wooden sign marked the crossing into Pennsylvania; when I first saw it, I broke down in tears. Hiking for months all the way from Georgia, nearly 1100 miles into my journey, I was back home. Even though I still had hundreds of miles to finish this long trek, the milestone of returning to my home state is something I had looked forward to since the start.
After staying with my aunt and uncle, I continued into the Michaux State Forest of south central PA. There was an immediate feeling of familiarity, from the DCNR-branded signage to the license plates on cars. I felt like I was floating amidst the pine forests and brown-tinted creeks, surrounded by woods that felt as comfortable as ever.
There were now fewer miles remaining on this trail for me than I had completed already — like the tipping of a see-saw. The AT crosses Pine Grove Furnace State Park, where yet another hiker tradition lives on at the general store in the park. To celebrate completing half the trail, it’s customary to consume an entire half gallon of ice cream in one sitting. I figured my insatiable hiker hunger will give me a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to try this feat, and sure enough I gobbled down 2700 calories of cream and sugar for lunch.
While the temporary effects of bloat and regret slowed me initially, the resulting energy rocketed me up the trail to my campsite and miraculously I digested it all with no mishaps. The next day I hiked my longest day yet, covering over 22 miles (with a stop at Sheetz, of course) to cross the Cumberland Valley near Carlisle and up into the ridge and valley section of PA, beginning the stretch of trail for which our state earns a very specific reputation.
The first 70 miles offer a pleasant walk in the woods or in the margins between farm fields. However, the 160 miles from Duncannon to Delaware Water Gap make for a formidable spine of rocks and boulders. Rocksylvania will strike fear into any seasoned thru hiker and make their ankles wince in anticipation. Leading up to this, I downplayed the tales of gouged shoes and awkward footing, believing I knew what was to come.
And a good scramble on all fours makes the adventure more exciting. For a one- or two-day hike, it’s just accepted that there will be some tough sections. But when the rocks keep coming, mile after mile, day after day, the cumulative effect of this challenging terrain can cause some mental and physical anguish. This obstacle course of hopscotching boulders and scaling rock ledges stretches on for the entire southern edge of NEPA, forming the (almost) impassable ridge of Blue Mountain. For me, this meant I was really home.
I had some friends join me for a 15-mile section and one night in the woods, ending in Port Clinton where they’d take me home for a few days. I got to spend my 30th birthday at home with friends and family, and caught up on most of what I’d been missing while out on the trail. It felt like a vacation, taking a break from my new day job of hiking all day every day, so that I could have a taste of normalcy and my life “in the real world”. But this was only temporary, and I had just under 1000 miles left to finish what I started.
So back onto the trail I went, continuing from Port Clinton past Hawk Mountain, Bear Rocks, Bake Oven Knob, and over the Lehigh Turnpike Tunnel through which I’ve driven countless times. Rock features like Knife’s Edge and Wolf Rocks caused me to slow down not only to avoid missteps, but to appreciate the exposed cliff edges and admire the raptors flying eye level with me.
And it’s all a product of past industrial pollution and generations of rebirth and reclamation through mankind righting its wrongs. Climbing out of Lehigh Gap was challenging and exhilarating, feeling like I’m clawing my way up the mountainside to incredible views. Continuing northeastward, the complexity of the rock puzzles increases while my foot placement becomes almost second nature. Before I know it, I’m at Mount Minsi staring down the Delaware Water Gap, with just a few miles left to hike in my home state.
All that’s to say, Rocksylvania is just preparation for New Jersey. The rocks don’t end at the Delaware River, since it’s one long mountain that the river bisects. But there is a different feeling to New Jersey, where the ridges aren’t quite as high and sharp, but more rolling and integrated with the valleys below. There are more exposed summits and depressions in the ridge where glacial ponds formed millennia ago.
The Kittatinny ridge, as it’s named on the NJ side of the river, carries up to High Point State Park where a monument stands that can be seen from the very eastern tip of NEPA. The trail then turns to cross fields and swamps over elevated boardwalks, interrupted by rocky hills between. It was on my last day in NJ that I had an exciting encounter on the summer solstice, where I came around a corner and was surprised not by a human but a black bear! I crossed state lines again, now to New York, where I was welcomed with smooth and slippery bedrock hilltops in a light rain. The rocks and rough footpath seem to go on forever, but the end is in sight.
Right now, I’ve just crossed the Hudson River over the Bear Mountain Bridge, passing the 1400-mile mark. It was mentally tough getting back on the trail after being home, but it helps knowing Katahdin is now less than 800 miles away. Hiking through Pennsylvania was like taking a victory lap before I even finished, enjoying every mile of it regardless of its reputation. Having already hiked 100 miles past the eastern edge of PA, the terrain is already so much different. I’m excited to see the landscape change even more as I head into New England, and what challenges and experiences await me.