The second “New York/Connecticut” state line encountered on the trail.

The Appalachian Trail pokes into the state of Connecticut before retreating back into New York. Then it reenters the state and passes through some disputed land. The conflict stems from the trail being routed onto land owned by the Schaghticoke tribe. The Appalachian Trail Conference also claimed ownership to the land at one time. Initially the land was “bought” from the tribe by the pilgrims who paid for it with $25 worth of trinkets and beads. No, wait - it was claimed as a spoil from King Phillips war in the 17th century. No wait! Vikings! Vikings sold it to us when it didn't belong to them!

All right, I admit I did not read the pamphlets.

Connecticut. New England. One simple state line and I felt much closer to home. Katahdin, greatest mountain, was suddenly a real possiblilty. It was just hops, skips and jumps through little states until one got to Maine. It was not time to get cocky though. I knew from years of hiking how tough the White Mountains could be even in Semptember. There were sure to be many rugged miles from Vermont on. Being in Connecticut shouldn't have meant so much - there were still 700 miles, a third of the trails length, left. Still, I felt I had got somewhere.

Raindancer, Tim Tank and I arrived in Kent and found a pizza joint. Raindancer then went to call Shortcut. Shortcut had hiked ahead of us in order to finish her section hike in time. Before leaving though, she left an open invitation for us to call when we arrived in Kent. Progress (from the SlackPack days of yore...) also lived in the state and somewhere I had his phone number.

At the end of a long day, I summited Lions Head with Kernal and his dog Heidi.

Once Shortcut arrived she mentioned that Giggler, Wak-a-Pak and Wild Turkey had spent the night before at her place. After many miles, I was eager to see my old friends and asked Her if they might still be there. Unfortunately they left that morning to hang out with Progress. I debated calling him and ultimately decided that it was too late in the season and could not afford the additional days off. I knew that if I called, I would not get out of there without taking days off.

We spent the night at Shortcuts place and hit the trail the next afternoon. Raindancer and Tim Tank went on ahead while I picked up groceries and phoned home.

Unfortunately, that's where I lost them. They missed a side trail to the shelter (I nearly missed it myself in the dark). The next few days, I couldn't quite catch up. There were messages in the shelter logs from them asking where I was. Then they were gone. Somehow I jumped ahead of them around Falls Village. There were not many other thru-hikers around at that time of the year. Although I was hiking late in the season it wasn't too late to get to Katahdin if I hurried.

The trail had left left the congested “woods” of New York behind and once again took to high ground. The days had become cooler and shorter. The surprise about the trail in this state was that it once again travesed a veritable sawtooth ridge the likes of which had not been seen since Georgia. Hiking it was frustrating. I had not done much up and down hiking lately and kept trying to charge up and down each one. I had forgotten the fine art of pacing. It was something I relearned in short time, a

The early morning view from Riga shelter.

worthy virtue since the scenery was beautiful. At nights, after I had made camp, I had to search my skin for ticks and other nasties. I was more likely in this state to get Lyme Disease than any other although I did know of a few hikers who got it in Virginia. One poor hiker came down with Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever but still returned to hike once the appropriate medications were taken.

Shortly before a road crossing, I happened upon a cooler. Local Trail Angels had placed it there full of soda and beer. As I sat and drank, I was joined by two southbounders. I had been running into those brave souls who started in Maine ever since Port Clinton, Pennsylvania. It was then that I noticed that this cooler was at the 680 mile mark for them. I reversed the situation - where was I at 680 miles? I was near Dragons Tooth in Virginia and there had been a cooler for hikers there as well. An odd coincidence to a normal person in a normal world. Trail Magic for the thru-hiker.

I finished my last full day in the state with an evening hike to the top of Lions Head. One more state down but summer was ending and time was running out.