(NJ Route 94 (mile 1359.6) - Fitzgerald Falls (mile 1378.6))

Delta, Puddin, Katie, Jasmine, and I hitched a ride back to trail in the morning. Five people is an awkward number to try and hitch a ride with, but sure enough, a guy named John picked us up in a standard size sedan. The others piled in the back and I hopped in the passenger seat. John dropped us off at what my USGS map overlay ominously referred to as the “Stairway to Heaven.” Sure enough, it was a hell of a climb right out the gate, and we were all drenched in sweat by the time we reached the top.

Beyond the Stairway to Heaven, it was a little less than 7 miles to the New Jersey / New York border. These miles were filled with beaver ponds, streams, and dense forest canopy. Once we crossed into New York (after a brief celebration), it was like a switch got flipped. Suddenly, the trail was a hot, exposed rocky ridge. This was not a flat Pennsylvania ridge either, forcing us to regularly scramble up rocks on all fours. This became the theme for the day: heat, rocks, and constant up and down on exposed ridges.

New Jersey had spoiled us with its profusion of board walks, offering flat, easy hiking. In northern VA, WV, MD, PA, NJ, we could pretty reliably count on a solid pace of 2.5 miles/hr, but today was barely 1.5 miles/hr (like back in GA, TN, NC). I think I was also hot and dehydrated all day, so that did not help. Not to mention it seemed like all the water was brown.

Despite all my complaining, today was a fun day of communal hiking. It was my first time hiking with the Dinos since before Pennsylvania. In normal fashion, Katie and Jasmine were pumped about an upcoming side quest: The Belvalle Farms Creamery, located off a short blue blaze past mile 1,373. Their enthusiasm was infectious, although to be fair, I don’t need any convincing to visit an ice cream spot. On the side trail, I spotted a young milk snake with a striking white coloration with red saddles outlined in black. The tiny colubrid was determined to demonstrate its snappy ferociousness. I thought it was cute.

We made it to the creamery and discovered a sizeable crowd, as one would expect for a hot summer afternoon. I took the opportunity to plug in a couple electronics and fill my water at the spigot before ordering a banana split with Belvalle Bog ice cream (a chocolate base with brownie bits and fudge), maple pecans, caramel, and Oreo bits.

As we were eating, everyone’s phone started buzzing with a severe thunderstorm warning and we could see ominous clouds forming to the north.

We were still planning to hike almost 5 miles to Fitzgerald Falls for camp. As much as I enjoyed the communal hiking earlier, at this point in the day, I was in a sort of headspace where I just needed to hike solo for a bit. I ended up heading out a little before the rest of the crew and listened to Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp A Butterfly while busting out the miles. The trail was mostly forested, but would occasionally pop up on rocks above the tree line, offering me a view of the rain storm in the near distance. These moments were ominously beautiful. The clouds were dark, the wind was powerful, and the rain was falling heavily just a short distance away as Kendrick Lamar’s jazzy epic boomed in my ears.

Despite its threatening proximity, the storm avoided me, and I did not experience any rain until I reached Fitzgerald Falls. I set up my tent on a bed of pine needles in the midst of a gentle sprinkling near the creek at the base of the falls. The Dinos must have stopped at the shelter two miles earlier because they never made it to the waterfall. No one else was around either. I stood in the stand of pine as the rain eased. Pine needles thickly carpeted the ground, the air smelled like rain, and the mossy rocks flushed with the saturated glow of rain.