Hike up Chestnut Ridge while sweating buckets

Tuesday, May 19, 2026

It’s a hot day on the AT. After a surprise breakfast sandwich, I walk through farmland and forests alike. I face a climb at the end of the day, but the day has a happy ending.

The heat is on

METROMy long-awaited return to backpacking has finally arrived. I had chosen a brutal combination of itinerary and climate. Today’s planned 23-mile one-way NOBO hike would take me up over 6,500 feet. Temperatures would quickly reach 80° and stay there. There is a bit of additional context that is important here. Approximately 2,500 feet of climbing is directly in the last 4 miles of the route. Then, just when I expected to end the day is when I would reach by far the most challenging phase of the hike.

In theory, I have an early start in the form of some camping at the base of the climb. Of course, this would mean tackling that climb the next day. Doing a steep climb in the cool morning temperatures is actually a perfectly logical choice. However, adding 4 miles and a steep climb to a day where I was planning to hike 22 miles could get complicated awfully fast. It was just another day that I would have to figure it out while walking. First things first: I needed to go hiking, the sooner the better.

Where is the meat?

Well, I wish I hadn’t said that last part out loud. Just as I was making my final preparations to hit the road, a man stepped out of the yellow school bus that had parked next to me the night before. He proceeded to prepare a table. Before long, I was nibbling on a breakfast sandwich courtesy of Beef and Twister. They are a couple who hiked the AT and now tell their adventures in their YouTube channel.

They’re traveling up and down the trail, approaching shelters with their novel idea of ​​selling olive oil in the kind of condiment packets you might see at a fast-food restaurant. This solves a dilemma faced by hikers who rely on olive oil: glass containers. Glass is heavy and fragile, characteristics that are not ideal for an item you want to carry backpacking. For the uninitiated, olive oil has one of the highest calorie to weight ratios. Hardcore hikers who focus on saving weight consume olive oil to provide plenty of energy while minimizing carrying weight.

Could the real ¼ marker please stand up?

With my stomach now sufficiently full, I set off around 9:00 a.m. The trail quickly cuts a line through a pasture. I made sure to give the shifty-looking resident cows a wide berth. Fortunately, the trail led into the woods, providing much-needed shade on what was already a hot morning.

About 2.8 miles into the hike, I reached the 1/4 point marker on the Appalachian Trail. Since I hiked the entire trail between this point and Springer Mountain in Georgia, it was almost the 1/4 marker for me as well. I had only hiked the 2.8 mile section from the trailhead to the marker once, so I wouldn’t finish ¼ for another 2.8 miles. But who’s counting anyway?

The day begins with a walk through a pasture.

Is 1/4 done already?!

Home on the range

After climbing and jumping over a grass fence, I came face to face with two cows. I let them know I was speaking in my friendliest voice. They responded by darting out of the way in opposite directions. The one that had decided to turn left had not gone more than 20 feet from the trail where another cow was already standing looking at me. A few moments later, I noticed a third cow. I had to take a photo because it’s not every day you come face to face with the source of some of your favorite foods. As I took the photo, a fourth cow that had been hidden by shadow moved in the background. They outnumbered me and I suspected they could smell the powdered milk in my backpack. I remained eager to avoid the multitude of revenge scenarios running through my mind.

Something about passing through the cows and farmland made me feel linked to the colonial era. These lands at the foot of the Appalachians would surely have been settled by early settlers. The mountain views and rustic livestock fences probably haven’t changed much in the last 200 years.

A viewpoint with views of the next walk through the pastures.

The hills of southern Virginia.

Something about a rustic trail marker really transports you back in time.

Windswept clouds float over a ridge.

A ladder for hikers (but not cows) to cross the perimeter fence.

The North Fork Holston River.

Sharing the trail with a couple of cows.

There are more of them! It’s time to get moving.

Looking back at the cows in the pasture.

Gear Talk – Solving Socks

I previously wrote about my sock issues. I bought new low cut socks, since that was what I had been walking around in. I suddenly had heel rubbing issues and started wearing one of the two pairs of Darn Tough socks I had with me. In the first few days of my hike I found that my feet were quickly overheating. However, that was with my original trail shoes, which are not supposed to be well ventilated. With my Topo shoes my feet stayed dry, even though it was much warmer now.

Over the past few days I’ve also noticed the cushioning and how much more connected my foot feels inside my trail shoes. With my old low-cut socks, my feet moved around inside the shoe. When wearing the very sturdy socks, it felt like I had a layer of material filling the entire space between my foot and the inside of the shoe. The comfort won me over, so I decided it was worth buying two more pairs. I think that may be enough to last me the few weeks between wash days.

lick brook

Even though the heat was intense all day, I forced myself to keep moving and progress. I finally made it to Lick Creek. It is a 20-foot wide stream that used to be crossed by a footbridge. The bridge was washed away, so the only way to cross it was to walk across the stream. I could see a natural strip of rocks crossing the stream and decided to see if I could cross by carefully stepping on the stones while using my trekking poles for balance. I managed it slowly but quite easily.

The location of the old Lick Creek Bridge. You can see the rocks I used to cross the stream.

The spring of the pond

When I reached mile 18, I could feel the toll the day had taken on me. I was thirsty, but I wanted to use a water source halfway up the climb and be able to take a break at the same time. It wasn’t until I started climbing that I checked FarOut and saw that the water sources were dry. My only option was to complete the 2,000 foot climb and hope I didn’t sweat out all the water left in my body before reaching the next water source, a spring that feeds a pond.

Some sections of the climb were as steep as advertised. Fortunately, there were enough moderately graded sections that allowed me to maintain a steady pace. After a great effort I reached a grassy opening, I assumed the pond was nearby. This was a false alarm, however, the pond was a quarter mile away. When I reached the second grassy opening, I could see some large stones and a stump with the blue glow I was looking for. You know you’re an AT hiker when you hike 20+ miles in 80+ degrees and a splash of water in a spring is reward enough. Expectations must be adjusted when one attempts a long distance hike.

A blue flare points the way to the spring.

The spring looks much larger in the picture, the tube was about 1 inch wide. The water was excellent though!

A great view after a long day of hiking.

I deserve a reward after a long day of walking.

The many ridges of the Appalachian Mountains in southern Virginia.

I couldn’t believe how long and straight the ridges were.

Chestnut Knob Shelter

One last treat for today’s hike was that the spring at the shelter I planned to camp at was reportedly dry. You would then need to carry enough water to:

• Rehydrate after many long, hard miles in the heat
• prepare my dinner
• I prepare my breakfast in the morning.
• Hydrate before starting the next day’s walk.

This meant carrying 2 liters of water on my back for the last 1.8 kilometers of the trail.

I had heard the view was exceptional, but it still blew me away. I watched him during dinner and while chatting with other people at the shelter. FarOut explained that this valley is known as Burke’s Garden. The isolated valley is the result of a limestone sinkhole. In fact, it looks like a huge 30-square-mile crater. I arrived a little late to get a spot in the tent with a front row view. But I couldn’t complain about a seemingly flat place protected from the wind.

Looking towards Burke’s Garden from the Chestnut Knob Shelter.

Chestnut Knob Shelter.

Chestnut Knob Shelter.

-See you tomorrow

Total: 23.1 miles, 51,379 steps

• Hike type: Backpacking
• Camp: Tent, Chestnut Knob Shelter

This website contains affiliate links, which means The Trek may receive a percentage of any products or services you purchase using links in articles or advertisements. The buyer pays the same price they would otherwise pay, and their purchase helps support The Trek’s ongoing goal of bringing you quality backpacking information and advice. Thank you for your support!

For more information, visit the About page of this site.