Trail Magic
The unexpected surprises that brighten miles in the woods
Sometimes Appalachian Trail hikers arrive at a trail head tired and thirsty and, surprise, there’s a cooler filled with chilled juice packs or water or iced tea. It’s called “trail magic.”
Years ago one of the Trail Runners hired by the local chapter of the Appalachian Mount Club to patrol the AT’s Lehigh Valley section would leave six packs of beer chilling in the springs below the LeRoy Smith Shelter. Nothing like a cold one to revive your spirits after a 15-mile day in July.
Not all trail magic is consumable though. Some of it’s fun or startling. Every now and then, the unexpected can break up the monotony of putting one foot in front of the other mile after mile. It’s the kind of thing that puts a smile on your face or make you wonder, “how the heck did someone do that?”
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One gray but mostly clear morning on the top of Moxie Bald in Maine, I stopped to enjoy the view. You come out of the evergreens onto a rocky open scree field of something call gabbro. I could see for miles and it made realize I might have cell reception. I did, so I shocked my wife with an unexpected call. That was my trail magic to her.
Updated, I descended the two miles to the Moxie Bald Lean-to for lunch and a water fill up. Refreshed, I packed up and headed on down the trail. Shortly, thereafter I had an eerie sensation of being watched. There are plenty of bear and moose in Maine. Usually, though, they hear you coming and all you get for the close encounter is swaying foliage and the sound of something big crashing through the woods. More on that another time.
But all was quite. And the gray day intensified my apprehension. Slowly I did a 360 scanning the dense woods. Then I looked up and nearly jumped. There was a Dalmatian staring at me from atop a rock outcropping maybe 5 yards off the trail and 10 feet above me. Was it lost? Was it mean?
“Hey, boy,” I said. No motion. No tail wagging. Was this an aparation? Was I seeing things. The more I studied it the more I was convinced it was real. Then I notice the shiny light reflections on its ears and telltale rust marks on its forelegs. There was an enameled cast-iron yard ornament someone had lugged deep into the woods.
The weird thing was that none of the other hikers I asked about it had seen it - until I showed them the photo on my digital camera. And this was before AI. I wonder if it wandered off or if it’s still there.
Magical!