Don’t cry over spilled spam: Maryland on the Appalachian Trail

Maryland in slow motion

Maryland is a state that many AT hikers move through quickly. After you’ve hiked a thousand miles and have the fitness that comes with it, a common challenge among hikers is the 4-state challenge: camping in Virginia right next to the border, crossing West Virginia and Maryland, and reaching Pennsylvania, all in 24 hours. In 2018, I crossed Maryland in 2 days without really trying, and the only thing I remembered was the old Washington Monument and the flushing toilets at Dahlgren Campground.

In 2021, shortly after graduating from college, I applied to be a ridge runner. Ridgerunners are assigned a section of the trail that they patrol: picking up trash, teaching Leave No Trace, helping hikers in distress, and documenting problems on the trail that need to be addressed. I applied to run any section of the trail and the one I was selected for was Maryland. In terms of a state that has to walk over and over to work, it’s pretty decent. Proximity to roads and support from PATC and Maryland State Parks mean the infrastructure is good. There are three flush toilets in this section, each shelter has a bear box or post, and when a tree falls, a volunteer usually manages to clean it up within a week or two. Notably, it’s also not a very difficult state of terrain or elevation, which is great news when you’re carrying a 15-pound bag of garbage, a hand saw, pruners, a radio, a pager, and a sturdy first aid kit… in addition to all the normal backpacking gear.

I spent only one season running ridges before moving on to another job, but because of my experience in Maryland, it holds a special place in my heart (I think I’ve climbed the section about 13 times?). Part of the reason I wanted to start at Harper’s Ferry was to spend our slower days in a familiar place; I was excited to see how the old places had changed and to show my dad what my life was like during the summer I spent in Maryland.

Traveling to the beginning

The morning my partner dropped me off at the airport, I cried. I’d known for months that this trip was coming, but now that the day finally came, I felt the weight of the planned 8-10 months spent apart, and it was so hard to get out of the car and say goodbye. I never realized how much I benefited on previous hikes from having nowhere else to be. I arrived at the airport very early in case TSA staff shortages caused delays, but there weren’t any that day, and before I knew it, my backpack was searched and I went through security. When I got my backpack back in DC, I was sad to discover that one of the chest straps on my backpack had been ripped off, but I figured my engineer dad could fix it after we met up later. I took the DC subway several stops in the wrong direction before realizing my mistake, and a couple of Mormons attempted the conversion only to end up in a conversation about backpacking. When I arrived at Union Station in DC, Bobby was easy to find as he was the only other person carrying a huge backpack and, like a bloodhound, I immediately sniffed out the nearest Auntie Anne’s and bought a pretzel. As we were sitting in the station waiting for our train (which kept running late), I couldn’t help but notice the way people in DC seem to be rushing wherever they go; Just watching people pass each other in a hurry stressed me out. I was grateful to be waiting for a train to take me to a place where things will be just the opposite.

We finally boarded the Floridian bound for Harper’s Ferry about an hour and a half after our scheduled departure. It was already becoming clear to me that traveling with Bobby is like having a golden retriever: he just can’t resist saying hello to everyone he sees. This is a big departure from my strategy of avoiding eye contact and keeping my headphones on in the hope that no one talks to me. After Bobby asked everyone around where they were going, we took a seat and enjoyed the ride.

Walking into the old Harper’s Ferry was magical. The sun was setting and we had a mile to walk to our hotel, so we skipped dinner in town and took a combination of trails and streets to our hotel. I loved knowing that I could order a pizza at home. We managed to repair my backpack with a spare shoelace my dad had in his backpack, and we feasted on the pizza knowing it would be the last for a while.

The first day

After stopping for coffee at the adorably named “Appalachian Snail,” we headed into the conservation area to get our hiker hang tags. I confidently assured the volunteer at the front desk that I knew about Leave No Trace because I used to be a crest runner, but when he asked me to tell him the principles my mind went blank. After redeeming myself (more or less) through their questionnaire, they gave us our tags and off we went. Members of a tour group going to Harper’s Ferry kept asking us if we were hiking and it felt really strange to tell them yes, but that we had only started half a mile earlier.

Once we crossed the footbridge over the Potomac River, we officially entered the state of Maryland and began a stretch on the extremely flat C&O Canal. While stopping for lunch on leftover pizza, we met our first recurring character: Justin, who is also attempting an AT flip-flop. We climbed our first hill and glimpsed Harper’s Ferry through the fog, before arriving at Ed Garvey Shelter at 2:30 p.m.

After proudly declaring that he hadn’t hurt himself on the first day, Bobby broke his ankle on the shelter door, badly enough that it was still bruised at the time of this writing. It was cold and foggy, and after filling up my and Bobby’s water bottles (he seemed too beat up to make it another 0.4 miles to the water source), I hid in my sleeping bag until dinner. Even though I’ve spent a lot of time backpacking, there’s always a relearning curve the first few days where I remember all my systems for cooking and sleeping in the woods, and my dinner was subpar as a result. We were at the shelter that night with many people, including a boy scout troop, a brother and sister crossing Maryland, and a man from Louisiana who had a backpack full of canned goods, but the power of melatonin and earplugs never disappoint.

Crossing Maryland

The second day was also cold and foggy, but the sun came out when we reached the shelter. The next day it was almost 80 when we passed several of my old favorite spots, like the house I lived in with my Ridge Inside Out running buddy at the base of the old Washington Monument, and found a picnic shelter with water and electricity across the street, a rare luxury on the trail.

On the way to Annapolis Rocks, the camp I used to tend, we diverted several groups going in the wrong direction. Our trail buddy, Justin, ran into our campsite at Annapolis Rocks right after we arrived with a CNOC bladder full of water because he was worried we’d run out of water like he had in the heat and were dehydrated. After a couple days of deliberation, we decided to offer the trail name Lookout, since it seems to always keep an eye on everyone else and because I used to work fires for the USFS and Lookout made us think of fire lookouts, but its name is still a work in progress. That night we watched the sun set on the rocks and I was able to show Bobby all the places where the copperheads were hiding. No snakes were seen that day.

On Easter morning, we woke up at dawn to pack up our tents before the rain fell and my dad had put out Easter candy outside my tent. 27 years old, but she’s still his little girl. We made it about a mile before our first big rain on the trail. I was able to try the packa (a hybrid between a poncho, raincoat and backpack cover) and our feet got soaked, but we continued to the nearest shelter. We waited out the rain and got so cold that we turned back to back to share body heat. Bobby dropped the single serving of Spam he’d been saving for Easter lunch onto the shelter floor. In the real world, he’s a germaphobe, so I was surprised when he asked me to pour water on him so he could rinse off his dirty portion of spam and eat it. It’s only been 3 days and it’s already getting wilder. I like it.

We walked to Raven Rocks, both the actual rocks and the shelter that bears its name, and by night the wind had dried our clothes.

We finished my ridgerunner section at PenMar Park and were taken to a local lodge called Girasol Cottage, where a lovely woman named Soulah lives with her cats, chickens and ducks. Entering his house was like entering a fairy tale. Her house is filled with antiques, the floor is covered with a mosaic of stones she collected, and there is a wood stove in the living room. Our room had a fairy theme and the bathroom had a mermaid theme. She spent the day gardening and making stew, and the next morning she made us pancakes with the eggs her ducks laid and homemade berry syrup, and showed me how she paints eggs with colored wax. Then we were back on the trail and into Pennsylvania towards the #2 state!

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