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Stories of Trail Magic

Sometimes strange things happen on the trail. Whenever something good happens unexpectedly, the incident is usually referred to as "Trail Magic" Sometimes it is stumbling upon a refreshing bottled drink chilling in a stream, other times it is a ride that comes along just when you were about to give up on a lift, and just when you need it the most. Whatever it is, most long distance hikers experiences this at least once during their trip. If you would like to submit a story about the experiences you have witnessed as you, or someone else, were treated to some unexpected delight along the Appalachian Trail, send an email with the information to: info@atmuseum.org. Please use the subject "Trail Stories Submission" in the subject line.

"An encounter with Earl" by John Stempa, Smith Gap, PA

I was fortunate enough to track down the 1st ever thru-hiker, Earl Shaffer, as he passed thru the AMC Delaware Valley Chapter's section August 1, 1998. We discussed many trail issues and problems, and how things have changed over the years. I walked 4 miles with Earl until We reached Smith Gap Road, We then drove to our Blue Mtn. Dome home to fill his water bottles. He accepted our offer, and had dinner with Linda and I, and John III. After He had his fill of stuffed flounder, Baked potato, and fresh green beans, He decided it was time to stop talkin, and start walkin! After signing our copy of his book "Walking With Spring", and a few snapshots, I drove him back to the trail. Earl was a perfect gentleman, and seemed to be in good spirits, hopefully a sign, that He enjoyed his visit with Us. I shook his hand, and wished him the best of luck with the rest of his Hike, and after taking one last photo with the digital camera, He turned and started hiking north, trying to reach Leroy Smith shelter before dark. We feel honored to have met Earl, and are happy we could help him out, on his historic hike! WOW

Another type of TRAIL MAGIC: an excerpt from the book "Appalachian Trail Thru-Hike" by John Gignilliat

As we were walking towards the Appalachian Trail Conservancy Headquarters located in Harpers Ferry, an elderly woman out sweeping the walkway of a beautiful historic home struck up a conversation with us.  She inquired if we were hiking the trail.  When we told her we were doing just that, she offered us a room in her beautiful home.  She told us that she tried to put up a few hikers every year.  Regretfully, we told her we were on our way out of town.  We said we were sorely tempted to take up her offer and lay over another day.  Unfortunately, time was beginning to become critical for us.  We thanked her very much for the offer, an example of what thru-hikers refer to as trail magic.
We made a short stop at the ATC headquarters and introduced ourselves to Jean Cashin who ran the office and looked after the needs of hikers who stop in.  We posed for a Polaroid picture for the photo album Jean keeps of all hikers passing through.  We had arrived just as Jean had talked three of our fellow hikers, Squeeze Box, Nomad, and Stickman, into doing an impromptu performance for a group of touring grade school children.  Stickman had been playing the guitar for twenty years and was a truly skilled individual with this instrument.  He would mail his guitar ahead to the next town, play it while he was there, and then pack it up and mail it ahead to the next town up the trail.  Stick Man and Squeeze Box did a guitar-concertina collaboration of one of Squeeze Box's Irish waltzes.  Next, Nomad added the vocal for a tune they had written in honor of Rusty's Hardtime Hollow.  We sat with the children on the steps of the ATC Center, listening and enjoying this short musical interlude put on by our hiker friends (yet another example of trail magic).
    Finally, it was time for us to continue on our way out of Harper’s Ferry.  As we were crossing a street, the father of an African-American family spotted our packs and asked if we were hiking the Appalachian Trail.  When we explained to him that we had hiked eight hundred miles and still had thirteen hundred miles to walk, his young son looked at us and exclaimed, “No way!”




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