Day 2 Slack Package #PA: Duncannon

(November 14) Last night at dinner, Nightingale was checking the weather report and noticed that it was expected to rain on the afternoon of my third day. The third day was planned to be the longest (9 miles) to Duncannon. With possible rain that day, Nightingale suggested playing hopscotch and making the day longer and potentially more difficult without rain. I agreed knowing it was a long, probably rocky descent towards Duncannon. So today’s plan became to hike from the Valley Road Trailhead on PA Rte. 850 to the Doyle Hotel in Duncannon. I was at the Fairfield breakfast buffet at 7am. I was expecting sausage gravy and biscuits, but scrambled eggs with cheese and gravy, bacon, and an English muffin are still better than lembas (aka Clif Bar), my usual breakfast. At 7:30am, we were leaving Carlisle into the Pennsylvania countryside to the trailhead. Just before the trailhead, a huge 6-8 point whitetail deer crossed the road in front of us. A good reminder that it’s hunting season in Pennsylvania. The Valley Road Trailhead is a small parking lot in the middle of farm fields and was surprisingly full. Day hikers? Hunters? There is no way to know. I could see across the field, to the north, the ridge I would have to climb before lunch. So, a kiss to Nightingale and I walked through the fields.

The ridge is called Cove Mountain. Strangely, I didn’t see anything that even remotely resembled a cove. With a loose pack, the climb wasn’t too difficult and I enjoyed the change from farm fields to a mixed pine and oak forest. Rocks began to dot the trail, but not too many to slow the pace. At the top, along a ridge of pine trees, I met my first (and only) hunter during my hike. He was looking for turkey, but also seemed a little lost. We compared my FarOut to their onX Backcountry and it seemed like it was a bit outside of State Game lands. He walked away along the AT where I arrived; so I doubted I would find many turkeys in the area I noisily walked through. Shortly after, I went outside to look through a gas line cut. I could see all the way to the Susquehanna River. I grew up in Williamsport, PA, on the North Branch of the Susquehanna and drove dozens of times along the Susquehanna past Harrisburg into Maryland. For the first time on the AT, I felt like I was truly walking on my territory. I’ve never really understood why the AT runs through the southwest corner of PA instead of taking a straighter path north, even west, avoiding the Cumberland Valley entirely. I guess that would exclude New Jersey; I’ll wait to see if that’s good or bad when I get there. By now I was enjoying the view of the Susquehanna River and it wasn’t even lunch time yet. He was walking at a good pace.

The Cove Mountain ridge has quite a few rocks. Maybe not as bad as Northern Virginia, but many of the rocks began to protrude from the ground, supposedly foreshadowing what was to come later in Pennsylvania. Still, I was walking well and realized I had time to stop at Cove Mountain Shelter for a cappuccino. At the blue blaze intersection toward the shelter, I met a hiker, Bear Bait, a very late and very veteran SOBO hiker. I’m not sure when he left Maine, but his plan was to get to Harpers Ferry and then take a trip to Georgia and hike NOBO. I doubted his plan and advised him to be prepared for snow anyway in North Georgia and the Smoky Mountains. He was quite carefree and took his time; I had the feeling that his walk was more important than his destination. I completely understood and felt the simpatico. I turned toward the shelter and at first regretted the choice as the blue fire moved down, down, down. Luckily, it was only less than a quarter mile and it was just my mind trying to convince me that it might not be worth carrying the hot Cappuccino back up the blue flame to the AT. The shelter was empty as expected and I took the extra time to swap out my sweaty base layer and waterproof jacket for a dry base layer and down jacket in my pack. Comfortable and dry, the Cappuccino was worth the climb. Realizing it was only midday and about 4 miles to go to Duncannon, I texted Nightingale telling her that my arrival at the Doyle Hotel would be closer to 3pm than 5pm. As I had to drive a little further from Carlisle, I wanted to give her plenty of notice.

I backtracked through the blue blaze to the AT and headed north, the rocks seemed to be fewer and before I knew it I was at Hawk Rock, overlooking Duncannon and the Susquehanna River. It was 1:00 p.m. and everything was going downhill. And indeed it was difficult. I wouldn’t have wanted to go down the trail here in the rain; Good call Nightingale! However, many of the rocks were placed and molded like stairs; So the descent wasn’t that bad. It was starting to get cloudy and quite cold, but it wasn’t long before I was walking through the back streets of Duncannon, past the VFW and the American Legion, toward the Doyle Hotel. Nightingale sent me a text telling me she wasn’t far away. Turns out he stopped at Momma Pat’s A Little Taste of Philly Grille in Duncannon for a cheesesteak! I was standing outside the Doyle at 2:30 pm when she arrived; I threw my backpack in the back of his Honda CRV and suggested at least one beer at Doyle’s. She still doesn’t quite understand the Hotel Doyle’s AT tradition, but it was nice to have a beer at the end of the hike. Back in Carlisle, at the Fairfield Inn, I finished half of Nightingale’s leftover cheesesteak, had a shrimp salad sandwich I’d brought from home, and a few local beers he bought that day in Carlisle. Now if I could convince her that slackpacking is the way to go the rest of the way!

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.