Max Patch to Hot Springs | 20 Mile Section Hike

This 20 mile stretch isn't easy. The steep climbs are a grind, and there's not much to see after the first mile and a half. And yet it perfectly encapsulates the AT experience. Max Patch to Hot Springs offers a small taste of the highs and lows that make the even greater 2,200 mile journey to Maine worthwhile. From the wide sweeping views from the summit at the start, to the monotonous trek through green tunnel, to the sweet relief of town at the end.

Music featured in this video: "Acoustic/Folk Instrumental" by David Hyde (https://soundcloud.com/davidhydemusic), "Warmer" by Andy G. Cohen, "Velvet Lady" by Nicholas Orlando's Orchestra, "Hello Sunshine (Cat Hoch)" by Complete Tracks, "Unusual" by All Good Folks, "Running Fields" by Sky Toes, "Carry" by Luke Beling, "Prairie Tone" by Yeti Music, "Losing Side" by Pat Hull, and "Float Easy" by Hemlock.

Max Patch to Hot Springs - 20 Mile Section Hike

Hike Overview

Type of hike: Point to point / Shuttle

Trails hiked: Appalachian Trail

Time span: 3 days 2 nights

Total Est. Mileage: 20 miles

Trail Journal

I've gone back and forth on whether to post a trail journal for this trip over the last year. It certainly wasn't the worst I've ever been on, but it wasn't an entirely positive experience either. Being 5 months pregnant at the time definitely made this 20 mile hike harder. If we could do it over, I think an out-and-back overnight from Lemon Gap to Max Patch would've been better. We still could have stayed in town afterwards, and maybe even had fresh enough legs to day hike to Lovers Leap and Rich Mountain tower too. That being said, everything happens for a reason. The struggles I faced on this trip informed a lot of my decision making with future hikes during my pregnancy.

Day One

We watched the old van stir up a cloud of dust as it pulled away. The sound of it rattling along the gravel road faded off as we stepped up to the trailhead kiosk. There's always some uncertainty about how a trip will go, and that feeling had my stomach tied up in knots the whole ride up. At the same time, I was beyond excited to get back on the trail again. After months of battling morning (aka all the time) sickness and a couple other awful symptoms that come with early pregnancy, I was finally starting to feel like myself again. Sort of. With a protruding tummy, my pack didn’t fit quite the same. I had to repeatedly adjust and readjust the many straps on my pack before we got moving.

I continued tinkering with my pack as we followed those familiar white blazes away from the small parking area. I forgot all about adjusting my pack when I saw ripe juicy blackberries growing on the hillside. I stopped every few feet to snack on them. Jordan stopped to pick some too, but then gave all his findings to me. I joked that he was waiting to see if I keeled over first before trying them.

The trail briefly lead us through the woods before steering us along a ridge. Asters and daisies obscured our view of the steep drop off below. Soon, we reached a series of stairs: The last push to the top before Max Patch. Despite having to adapt to how hiking with a baby bump felt, I was able to keep a good pace. Halfway up the stairs I stopped to turn around. “Look at that!” I exclaimed. Behind us was a picturesque view of mountains in the distance.

We followed the well-worn path across the bald. Tall sun-bleached grass waved in the wind on either side. I tried my best to take it all in, but between the trail cutting through wildflowers up ahead and the sea of far off peaks to the left, deciding where to look was nearly impossible.

At the survey disk, we stopped for a moment to enjoy the 360 view and cool breeze. From what I could tell, the rehabilitation efforts on Max Patch were working. There wasn’t a trace of the use and abuse that ultimately led to the camping ban. I suspect this rule, much like the camping ban in Graveyard Fields will remain in effect indefinitely. Once the forest order expires in 2026 the service will probably reinstate it again for a few more years. And so on. Who knows? Maybe I'm wrong. By the time our daughter is old enough to wear a pack, the rules might change.

The wildflowers and wide sweeping views continued as we made our way down the other side of Max Patch. The trail cut through an open field before disappearing into the treeline up ahead. We trekked passed one white blazed post in the ground after another. I took one last look across the open field and the mountains in the distance. At the treeline, the trail made a sharp turn into the woods. This marked the end of the noteworthy scenery for a while. We didn't know it at the time, but the next two days were about to be a monotonous slog through green tunnel.

We made a brief stop at Roaring Fork Shelter. A man with a long white beard was standing in front of the table unpacking. He seemed surprised to see us. Looking back, I realize we were probably the first people he's come across that day. With the exception of Max Patch, we only encountered four other hikers our entire trip. We exchanged greetings and how far we were going. As a Sobo, he had us beat. There was plenty of room for us to share the site without encroaching on each other's privacy. I wanted to cover at least another mile though. So, we wished him well on the rest of his journey and continued on our way.

Knowing we would probably end up at a dry campsite, we decided to stop at a stream to fill two collapsible canteens. We reached a small site shortly after. We dropped our packs and water beside a rotten log and looked around. The only level spot for a tent was covered in gnarly roots. On the opposite side of the fire ring the ground was covered in soft moss. The catch? It was on a sharp downhill slope into the woods.

"Do you think there's a better one nearby?" Jordan asked.

"Maybe?"

I volunteered to go further down the trail to look.

There wasn't much time before sunset, so I had to move fast. Without a pack on I felt almost weightless. I scanned the forest on either side of me for anything resembling a campsite or a potential path to one. After several minutes, I decided to turn around. I wanted so badly to have good news when I got back. Instead I had to make the decision between sharp roots jamming in our backs or sliding feet first into the tent wall all night. I chose the later.

I set up the tent and sleeping pads while Jordan took on the challenge of collecting dry wood. It was warm enough that we really didn't need a fire. Regardless, it's something Jordan really looks forward to on our trips. I've heard campfires referred to as "hiker TV." So, I guess that would make him the executive producer or something? Unfortunately, the night's entertainment would be delayed thanks to wet spongy wood. Jordan burned through all but one of our starters trying to get it going. In a last ditch effort, he lit a tag I tore off a stuff sack. As he struggled to keep the fire alive, I rushed to get dinner made.

With the last bit of light, I put away the pot, stove, and fuel. I fell backwards into my camp chair and opened up a piping hot bag of Peak Chicken Curry. Jordan picked up the bag of Pork and Rice and stood while he ate. I offered to let him take a turn in my camp chair, but he insisted he was fine. No longer burdened by camp chores, we could finally relax. We talked by the fire for about an hour before letting it fizzle out.

Getting settled into the tent went about how I expected. We repeatedly scooted our sleeping pads up to the tent door just to have them slide back down again moments later. With my feet pressed up against the rain fly, I wondered if it was too late to move to the other side of the site. Maybe we'd be better off taking our chances on the jagged roots. I turned to ask Jordan what he thought we should do, but he was already asleep. I closed my eyes and tried to do the same.

Day Two

Jordan groaned as he turned over on his sleeping pad. "My back is killing me." I turned over to face him "I'm sorry." To my relief the ache in my own back was pretty dull. The hike in and awkward position of the tent last night seemed to have done a number on him, though. I had gotten off easy. Or so I thought. I unzipped the door and started to crawl through, but when I tried to stand up nothing happened. The message from my brain to my legs got lost somewhere along the way. I crawled forward a few more paces before being able to get in an upright position. I laughed out loud at how ridiculous it all must have looked.

We packed up slowly, not saying much to each other. I think we both knew how rough the next 8 miles were going to be. Neither of us wanted to be the one to mention it. It was a little after 9 when we left camp. The moment I set foot on the trail again, searing pain shot through my left knee and both my hips. All I could think was"Forget Hot Springs. How am I going to make to the next camp?" Ordinarily, I'd take a couple Advil or Aleve throughout the day, but taking NSAIDs during pregnancy is a no-go. I was just gonna have to take it one step at a time. I shuffled slowly over every root and rock. Jordan waited for me at the bottom of switchbacks and stairs. After about half a mile we came to a large flat campsite. My heart sank. If we had just gone a little further...

It was only 9:30 and I found myself needing a morale boost already. I prayed for some kind of trail magic. Anything to cheer me up a little. Thankfully, I didn't have to wait long to see it answered. Jordan stopped in front of a large tree ahead. "Over here!" I quickly hobbled over to see what he found. Standing in the hollowed out trunk was a tiny plastic gnome. There were a couple army men too. Their home was furnished with a wheelbarrow, ladder, and water pump. Sitting on a knot higher up on the trunk was a green dinosaur.

"That's his pet." Jordan said.

I laughed. "What's his name?"

He came up with a dumb dino pun.

We took a few pictures with the gnome before putting him back in the tree. You might think it's silly, but I prefer finding whimsical stuff like that on the trail over a cooler full of soda or beer.

We came across some blowdowns shortly after saying goodbye to the gnome. One of which we was too high to climb over. Without taking off his pack, Jordan sandwiched himself between the two parallel trunks and pushed himself through. I wasn't confident I could replicate that stunt. So, I ducked down and crawled under the lower trunk. Neither of us really mind dealing with a few blowdowns here and there. It keeps things interesting.

The next one was smaller and easier to navigate around. Just a skinny tree leaning across the trail. We reached it at the same time as another couple coming from the opposite direction. We offered to let them go first. For nearly two minutes they struggled to get across frantically repeating "Be careful!" When they were finally on the other side they warned us about huge blowdowns up ahead. The man said there's almost no way around it. He wasn't even sure how they got by. We thanked them for the info and let them know about the one we just encountered. After hopping over skinny tree with ease, we couldn't help but wonder just how bad the one they mentioned would actually be. Apparently pretty bad... sort of.

It was some time before we reached it. We kept expecting to find an impassable wall of trunks and branches around every corner. Instead there was clear well-maintained trail. We stopped at Lemon Gap campsite for a snack break, but when it was time to get moving again we couldn't find where the trail picked up. After going a few paces back the way we came, we finally noticed what the man was talking about. An enormous tree had collapsed across the trail taking several smaller ones with it. Jordan went ahead, scouting a way through the maze. I did my best to follow his exact path over and under all the branches.

We were through the worst of it when Jordan paused and let out a "Huh?"

Looking ahead I had the same realization.

"So, we should have gone over that?" I pointed at several trunks stacked across each other.

"I think so." he said.

As we got closer, Jordan's theory was confirmed. The way the trees were staggered looked almost like steps, making a straight path to where the trail continued. He gestured toward them "See that's the other side... but from over there it looked like a steep drop into nothing."

All I could do was laugh and shake my head.

The ascent toward Walnut Mountain was tough, but we took it at a leisurely pace. This was one of two challenging climbs we would face that day. The second being Bluff Mountain. Our efforts were rewarded with a flowery meadow and shelter waiting at the top. The trail snaked between waist high white, purple, and yellow flowers as it leads us across the meadow. Bees zipped back and forth busily around us. The moment was short but sweet. We stopped for lunch at Walnut Mountain Shelter not long after that. Unfortunately, the water source there was a waste of time. Nothing but a broken pipe hanging over a muddy puddle. It would be another 2 miles before we reached a decent stream.

Things went downhill fast after that. Literally and figuratively. Realizing we were only halfway to our destination and still had the steepest climb of the day to contend with was discouraging to say the least. On top of that, the descent to Kale Gap really did a number on my knees. Which didn't make the maddening grind up Bluff Mountain any easier. Less than halfway to the top, I overheard Jordan mumbling something. He was far enough ahead of me that I couldn't quite make out what he was saying. A couple minutes later he stopped to pull up the calculator on his phone. Then he asked to see the GPS. He started punching in a bunch of numbers I couldn't keep up with, while mumbling some more. Then he looked up.

"I promise I'm not turning into Rain Man. It's the only way I'm getting up this..."

"What?" I asked confused.

 "I'm counting every step... It should be 4,000 to the top."

I joked that all his counting might be making the madness worse rather than keeping it at bay. As we continued the march up Bluff Mountain, Jordan announced the milestones at the top of his voice.

"1,800!"

"2,300!"

"3,100!"

Both of us were having a tough time staying positive. I knew this was his way of trying to make me laugh and break the tension. We reached a stack of boulders marking the top shortly after Jordan called out 3,600. Without taking our packs off, we leaned against them to rest.

We trudged on through the green tunnel. Down one switchback after another, passing the same monotonous scenery. It's true scenery isn't everything, but it was starting to feel like we were walking beside recycled backdrops in a Hannah Barbara cartoon. By this point my knees and hips were in competition to see who could make me more miserable. Jordan repeatedly had to stop and wait for me. I apologized for falling so far behind when I finally caught up. Each time he assured me it was fine.

About a quarter mile from our intended campsite, I reached a breaking point. Tears welled up in my eyes as I fell far behind once again. Then the back of my throat started to burn. I tried to take a deep breathe to calm down, but broke out sobbing instead. Jordan whipped around.

"What's wrong?"

I'm sure all he heard was incoherent blubbering, but what I tried to say was "I'm sorry we're doing this." and "I wanted to have fun and enjoy this, but everything hurts so much." He gave me a hug and asked if I needed to take another break. What I needed was to get to camp and put this day behind us. So, I regained my composure and kept walking.

We hopped over a small stream running across the trail. According to a waypoint I saved on the GPS, a campsite should be waiting on the other side. We continued a couple feet down the trail, but there was no sign of it. So, we walked a little further. Still nothing. We backtracked to the water source twice before noticing an overgrown path beside the trail. If there was a site, it was probably down there.

Jordan took the lead as we slowly made our way down the steep slick path. He stepped onto a large trunk blocking the way. He slipped on the other side, crashing to the ground. He sat there completely still. My mind raced. "What do I do? Should I hit the SOS button? I can't carry him!" Before I could act, Jordan stood up and groaned.

"Are you okay!?" I asked

"Yeah, it's mostly my butt and wrist that hurt."

I asked if he wanted me to send a signal for help, but he insisted he was fine. We continued the rest of the way down the path. At the end was what must have been a campsite at some point. Now it was just knee high weeds and scattered charred rocks. Jordan said we could probably make it work. I shook my head. "There's one more site I marked. It's gotta be better than this." Jordan agreed to keep going. After climbing back up to the trail, we filled up our collapsible canteens just in case there wasn't another source ahead. This was a smart move!

We trudged on for another mile. Shortly before reaching the trail crossing and next potential campsite, we came to a spur path. Jordan followed it up through the rhododendron to scope it out. He came back moments later to report it wasn't much. Not a lot of room for a tent and no fire ring. At the crossing, the trail cut through three overgrown forest roads. At the center of the intersection was a small pile of singed sticks where someone tried to make a fire and quit. I went a short ways down each gravel road in search of a decent place to put the tent. Down one of them I found a pair of underwear and a headlamp hanging from a branch. Down another was an open gate. I followed the last and grassiest road a little ways before trying to drive a stake into the ground. It wouldn't budge. I tried a few more times, but had no luck. I couldn't get a single stake to break through the tightly packed gravel underneath. I suggested heading back up to the spot in the rhododendron, but Jordan didn't want to.

I asked him to hear me out. Without the corners staked out, there was no way we were fitting both sleeping pads inside comfortably. I couldn't explain it, but I also had an uneasy feeling about stopping there. He conceded and we hauled our exhausted behinds back to the spot in the woods. When we got there, I saw that it wasn't one but three connected clearings. The second of which had plenty of flat soft ground for our tent. Not knowing to look for conjoined sites like this, I can understand why Jordan missed it at first glance. By this point we were losing daylight fast. We divided up tasks and set up camp in record time. We took turns "showering" under the water filter with powdered soap, before changing into clean dry clothes.

I threw myself face first into the lofted up quilts next to Jordan. It was such a relief finally being able to lay down. The odor of exhaustion and defeat, partially masked by camp soap, filled the air. After resting for a few minutes, I got up to start fixing dinner. I appreciated having a camp chair more than ever tonight. I offered Jordan a turn sitting in it, but like the night before he declined. Instead, he sat in the doorway of the tent. I wolfed down the rehydrated Peak rice in between swatting away swarms of gnats. We both agreed retreating into the tent would be way better than continuing to sit outside. I pulled up an audiobook on my phone for us to pass the time. Jordan didn't hear a word of it. He fell asleep the moment his head hit the sleeping pad. I heard about 15 minutes before following suit.

Day Three

I woke up feeling surprisingly rested. Jordan admitted he slept well too. Which is saying something. I can't recall a single trip in which he's gotten a good night's sleep. Of course, he tacked on the caveat that "It's only because I was exhausted, everything hurt, and I had no choice." We laid there debating whether or not to start the day or stay wrapped up in our toasty warm quilts a little longer. As tempting as getting another hour of rest was, the desire make it to town and the hot tub waiting at the AirBnb won out in the end. Our goal was to get to the trailhead around 4. If we finished packing up by 9 and didn't take too long a lunch break, then we could probably swing it. On that time table, we would also have enough time to clean up, grab dinner, and hit a grocery store before dark.

Eating, getting dressed, and filtering the rest of our water took up the most time. But with Jordan packing up everything inside the tent and me rounding up everything outside it, we were able to get on the trail a few minutes after 9. Although nothing hurt at the moment, as a precaution I put a brace over each knee. We made our way down to the road crossing from the night before. As we passed through, I reiterated how grateful I was that we didn't end up camping there. I also thanked Jordan for being willing to backtrack.

We found campsites and water sources significantly lacking along this part of the trail. The few sites we did see had just enough room for a 1 person tent or hammock. Apart from bare spots in the brush, patches of singed dirt and sticks were the only indication they were campsites. We also passed several debris filled ditches where water once cut across the trail. Seeing how pitiful the prospects ahead would have been, made me appreciate our decision to go back even more.

I was able to walk at a reasonable pace this morning. In fact, I was able to take the lead most of the way. After about 3 miles though, we both needed to take a break. We dropped our packs at a small site and debated whether or not to eat lunch there or wait until Deer Park Mountain Shelter like we originally planned. My vote was to wait, but Jordan wanted to know how much longer it would take us to get there before make a decision. He took a look at the GPS and did some quick mental math. It turned out we were moving at a much faster pace than we thought. If we kept it up, we could be at the shelter by noon. I gave myself a pep talk out loud: "Just a mile and a half to the shelter. Then 3 more miles. I can do that. We can do that."Breaking the distance up into smaller increments made it seem more achievable. It also helped repeating the phrase: "Hot tub at the end of the rainbow" to each other as we walked.

It was exactly noon when we reached the shelter spur trail. Across the trail was a series of spacious campsites. I volunteered to follow the water trail and refill the canteen bags while Jordan waited. The blue blazes lead me through one site after another, like connected chambers in a cave. The path terminated at a small creek. It was pretty shallow leaving me without a good place to funnel water into the bag. I tried filling it a little at a time by skimming the bag across the water, but it just stirred up a bunch of sediment. I only managed to collect about a liter of murky brown water. It wouldn't be enough for the both of us, but it was something.

When I got back, Jordan suggested we forego the shelter and have lunch there. I really had my heart set on having a picnic table or at least the shelter floor to sit on though. Plus my detour for water had been a bust, and there was probably another source at the shelter. I could tell he wasn't 100% sold on covering more distance than we had to, but he agreed to go. Along the spur path we passed a small piped source like I hoped. It took some time to fill the canteen bags, but at least we had enough water for the rest of the hike now.

I was overjoyed to have not one but two picnic tables to sprawl out on as we ate our lunch. That small comfort made the extra effort well worth it in my opinion. At some point a disheveled Sobo hiker came by. We said "Hi" and he nodded. Then he took off up the hill to use the privy. When he came back he spent some time checking his phone and rearranging things in his pack. Then without a word he was off again. Jordan shook his head and said "I just don't get it."

We left the shelter ready to tackle the last 3 miles. Waiting ahead was a short ascent skirting the side of Deer Park Mountain followed by a long unrelenting descent to town. While it wasn't easy, I actually enjoyed going uphill. It meant no knee or hip pain. The same could not be said for Jordan. We had to stop frequently so he could take a break. During one break he dropped his pack and layed down on the ground to stretch out.

Then the downhill came, and the roles were reversed. That's when my left knee really started complaining. At first, I was able to ignore it. But with each switchback it got harder to walk. The nagging twinge escalated to screaming pain. I tried to appease it by pulling the brace off my right knee and doubling them up on my left. Through the trees I could make out the tops of buildings. One of which had a bright red roof. We were so close to the end! In the last half mile I decided to adopt Jordan's strategy of counting each step. It helped distract me from the pain surprisingly well! I kept track in increments of 100.

By the time we reached the trailhead I was on 810. I took a moment to admire the bronze plaque. Depicted on it were two figures with long unruly hair wearing packs against a background of rolling hills. Then the moment was over. I hobbled over to the car, shed my pack, and tossed it in the backseat. While I don't regret the journey, I don't think I've ever been so grateful for a trip to end.

Epilogue

We checked into a cozy AirBnb just outside of town. In the days that followed, we explored everything Hot Springs had to offer. We visited the museum / visitors center, dined at (almost) every restaurant, and met a friendly bantam Rooster named Waco. We also spent a lot of time soaking our worries away in the "hot tub at the end of the rainbow." The most memorable part of our time in town was visiting Bluff Mountain Outfitters. In the upstairs room we surveyed the 3D maps lining the walls, seeking out mountains we've climbed over the years. We also flipped through old A.T. yearbooks. Before we left, I bought a sticker and a bandana. 6 months later, that bandana served as a makeshift bib for my baby on her first ever backpacking trip. It also served as a reminder of how the trail remains a part of our lives, following us through each new chapter.