On the Road

May 23, 2025

Unionville, NJ to Pochuck Mountain Shelter

Mile 1354.4

The hostel was up and going by 6:30. They made us pancakes. The family had three sweet kids named Maple, Birch, and Evergreen.

Moxie slept later, and they asked me to wake her up. I made a half-hearted effort to do so, but felt a bit weird about it. The night before, the pastor had asked me questions about Moxie, rather than addressing his questions to her directly. This had felt a little odd to me, and I wondered if she dealt with this kind of thing a lot. It made me admire Moxie even more, as well as people like Smiles, who found ways to communicate and just be a person. I did what I could to be out early, but I was last out, at 8:30. Walked down to Hotler’s grocer and bought some fruit, a soda, and a sandwich to stow in my pack for later. Then I sat on their porch and charged my devices, something I couldn’t really do at Sola the night before without elbowing others aside. It was 10:15 or so by the time I was finished; I walked back to the town hall and used their restroom, then headed out. A late day, cold and rainy. 

The trail here weaves back and forth across the NY/NJ border, so I hadn’t thought of Unionville as a NY town. I was therefore bemused to run into this:

Out of Unionville was a road walk, and aside from a few bog-and-pasture bits here and there, a lot of today felt road-walky. Some of it was actual road, and some of it was pathing through the Wallkill Nature Reserve.

One house near the entrance to the reserve had trail magic. This area, being mostly road, had few water sources to speak of, and a house just outside of the Nature Reserve had a setup next to their house with access to a spigot, a cooler with snacks and beverages, and a roofed parking area where folks could sit and rest out of the sun or rain. Three other hikers and I talked with Birdfeeder, the house’s owner for a few minutes. The other hikers had come 12 miles that morning from High Point HQ—they’d been dropped off there by shuttle from the hostel they’d stayed at to get out of the rain.

The reserve had various benches and these random lawn chairs ready for birdwatchers

I ran into them again a few miles later when I got to the shelter I was aiming for, Pochuck Mountain.

They were stopping in hopes of waiting out the rain, but planning to continue to a stealth campsite further up trail before nightfall, ideally making it to the farm market on 94, which allows hikers to tent behind their building. For me, it was only a 6-mile day, since I had plans to meet Tom, Tara, and family on the road tomorrow. Another hiker came up as they were finishing lunch; he’d left a trekking pole in a shuttle the day before, and was full of happy gratitude because the driver had made arrangements to get it back to him today. Soon enough, he moved on as well, and once my fellow hikers for the day had moved on, the shelter descended into a quiet, contemplative silence. It’s almost 6 now, and no one is here yet. It’s been a fair few days since I was alone for the night.