When I decided to hike the Appalachian Trail in 2015, I worried—not about the bears, blisters or dangers that awaited me along the way, but about not having access to music. Music was my first language; I’ve always poured my thoughts and feelings into the keys on a piano and the strings on my guitar when I found them difficult to navigate. I nervously set off on my adventure in early spring and started listening to the music of the woods, recording melodies in my mind. Then, a few weeks after leaving Springer Mountain in Georgia, my trail family (“tramily”) and I found our way to a hostel in Tennessee. The property was lush green and covered in trees. The host greeted us upon our arrival and said that if any of us would entertain him on his porch piano for the evening, they could stay the night for free. A smile stretched across my face. I needed that piano as much as he did.
We gathered our things, took our showers, ate our fill of pizza and then walked up to the porch. I sat at the piano, feeling instantly at home on the weather-worn wooden bench. My fingers moved across the keys with yearning even after a relatively short deprivation. After the song ended, our host explained that the piano once belonged to his wife, who’d passed away too young. She would’ve wanted others to play for him, he told us. I realized that, on this random mountain on this property far away from home, we’d managed to bring each other comfort with a little bit of music.
This was trail magic.
What exactly is trail magic? It’s a special phenomenon that happens on long-haul hikes like the Appalachian or Pacific Crest trails. When trail community members and past hikers look for ways to encourage hikers forward even when trail conditions are less than ideal, the result is something that seems almost too wonderful to be true. It could be a mirage in the desert, but it turns out to be a kind of trail oasis. And it can be so impactful that those who provide it are called “trail angels.”
Trail magic might be as simple as a small cookout on the side of the road, or an invitation into someone’s home for a shower and access to laundry machines. There’s no one set definition, but the term describes a spirit of giving without expectation, or a serendipitous encounter with whatever you need at any given time on a trek.
Here, REI Members and staff share some iconic trail magic stories from their hikes and thru-hikes across the country.
Shoes to Be Kind
Lyla Harrod
Trail name: Sugar
REI Member: Several years
Trail: Florida Trail, 2023
My friend Kelly Hays and I were doing a highway road walk on the Florida Trail with our trail family. There were nine of us. This woman drove by and stopped on the side of the highway. She’d recognized Kelly from YouTube, and expressed her excitement at randomly running into her. She dug into her car and pulled out some apples and oranges, which were hard to find along the trail.
Before she pulled away, she was like, “Why don’t you come and stay with us tonight? Your whole tramily can come.” Later on, she and her husband came and picked us up in two pickup trucks and drove us to their house. They put all nine of us up in what was probably a two-bedroom home. We sat on the couches, flopping around with our dirty clothes everywhere. That night, they took us all out to a Mexican restaurant and bought our dinners, did our laundry—literally everything you can imagine.
The trail angel’s husband was a track coach for the local high school, and sometimes gets shoes sent to him. He dropped us back off at the trailhead, but our trailmate Banana Man quickly blew out one of his shoes after we started hiking, and there was nowhere to get shoes once we were off. We called our host to ask for help, and he drove out again with a pair of shoes, and gave it to Banana Man for free. It was the perfect example of someone going above and beyond in every way to support us on our hike.
Related reading: What’s In My Pack with Super Thru-Hiker Lyla Harrod
A+ Angel
Emily Schrick
Former senior operations specialist for REI Co-op
REI Member since: 2015
Trail: Pacific Crest Trail, 2018
In Northern California, at a place called the Hat Creek Rim that’s known for zero shade and blazing-hot temperatures, I saw a sign attached to a PCT trail marker, reading “Katie’s Senior Project.” At first, I thought the [student] was maybe doing a science project, but once I got to the road I saw a big shaded tarp and unmistakable coolers. It had to be trail magic! I ran down the road to see what was going on, and no one was there except me. There was nice camp furniture, frozen towels for our faces and necks, ice-cold Gatorade and the real treat: homemade strawberry shortcake! Katie was out doing multiple rounds of trail magic, interviewing PCT hikers about their experiences and doing maintenance projects on the PCT. It was so nice meeting her, and awesome of her to give back in so many ways.
True Love Waits
Sarah Grothjan
Trail Name: Squishy
Camp/Backpack editor for REI Co-op
REI member since: 2019
Trail: Timberline Trail, Mount Hood National Forest, 2019
A few years ago, my friend Ashley and I attempted to circumnavigate Mount Hood—but we severely overestimated our abilities. We hoped to complete it in two nights, but I think most people finish in a minimum of three or four. The forecast promised sunny, clear weather, but about two hours into our hike the skies opened up. Unexpected lightning cut that first day short—since a section of the trail was in a meadow, we needed to take cover.
On the second night, we decided to abort the mission entirely. However, we really had no good option for getting back to our car—we were equidistant on the loop from the trailhead, so we either had to retrace our steps or finish the trek. Neither option sounded good. We were tired, and the chest strap on my pack broke, which exacerbated my already bad back pain. After much deliberation, my friend ended up calling her ex-boyfriend, Yousef. I’d suspected Ash still had feelings for Yousef, but she’d never come right out and say it. Yousef dropped what he was doing and drove an hour to the trailhead to rescue us.
After traveling all that way, Yousef had to wait several more hours for us to appear. He was so worried that he kept driving in and out of the parking lot to get cell service and text us for updates, but we could rarely respond because our own service was so spotty. When we finally got off the trail and saw him, he gave Ash a big hug. He had blankets, food and warm drinks waiting for us. We were soaked from the downpour, so this was very needed. After that, Ashley and Yousef ended up getting back together, and I shared this story at their wedding last fall. That encounter was the first time I ever met Yousef—talk about a great first impression.
Good Luck Bucks
Alexander Griswold
Trail name: Longsleeve Pants
REI member: “For a long time”
Trail: Appalachian Trail, 2021
I hiked the first half of the [Appalachian] trail in 2021. On the last day of that hike, in Shenandoah National Park, Virginia, I randomly met a section hiker. We struck up a conversation, and out of nowhere he handed me $40 cash: “I like to give people money.” Awesome—OK, thanks!
Two years later, I was doing the second half of the trail. Somewhere in New England—New Hampshire or Vermont—I passed a random section hiker and we struck up a conversation. Turns out it was the same guy! I said thanks again for the 40 bucks and he says, “I’ll do ya one better,” and hands me a crisp $100 bill!
Snack Saviors
Caitlin Hardee
Trail name: Break Rock
REI member since: 2021
Trail: Pacific Crest Trail, 2022
I always dialed my food pretty precisely, never cutting it so fine that I would have been in trouble. But, do you know what it’s like when you’re in a section and you realize, somewhat grimly, that you’re not going to be able to eat as much as you’d like and you’ll have to enforce rations and strict eating times? Well, I experienced one such instance in the desert somewhere around mile 400 of the PCT. My food bag was getting a bit sad when I crossed a road and an angel in a truck pulled up. He handed fresh fruit to another hiker and me, and told us there was a magic cooler with more fruit, hard-boiled eggs and candy a few miles up. We flew those miles. I had egg tortilla with hot sauce and cheese that night—it was heaven.
I also recall town magic from certain havens and long-standing angel operations: Free pie in Julian. Mary’s Place (sadly now closed) and Mike’s Place. The legendary angel Devilfish and his munificent caches of sweet, sweet water, which truly make some stretches like Tehachapi to Walker Pass a lot more manageable. The angel giving grocery rides at the Warner Springs community center, who let me do laundry and shower at his house while he was on lunch break, then played guitars and sang with me. The angels of the I-10 Oasis: Mama Bear, you weren’t on site when I passed through, but what a queen you are. Big ups to you and all your angelic friends. Lion’s Den up in Mazama, what a glorious place. Lion, you have truly taken up the proud legacy from Ravensong’s Roost and made it your own. The guy making breakfast at Ebbetts Pass—apparently he’s been doing it for over a decade?! Legend. The volunteers doing magic at the Carson Pass Information Center, such kind ladies. I didn’t go to Scout and Frodo’s, but obviously they are also giants. [Editor’s note: Scout and Frodo retired from trail angel duties in 2024.]
Pizza Party
Michael Ross
Trail name: Rossi
REI member: “Since the late ‘90s”
Trail: Appalachian Trail, 1990s
I’m a section hiker. I started back at the beginning [of the AT] one early spring in the mid ’90s and met a bunch of that year’s thru-hikers. I informed them that they should be at Fontana [Dam Shelter] on Easter morning. When the day came, I was there with 12 large pizzas. Word had spread, and I was able to feed a big crowd. I dropped back to the road crossings prior to Fontana and waited. A couple was coming down the hill. The guy yelled out, “Are you Rossi?!”
I grabbed the pizza box and opened it as a reply.
He was teary-eyed and told me he had struggled to make Fontana on Easter because he heard I would be there. That was probably my best slice of serving out trail magic.
An Angel in Scrubs
Jennifer Cenker
Trail name: Moo Bear
REI member: Several years
Trail: Appalachian Trail, 2017
My teen son and I were in Virginia on our thru, and he was not feeling well at all. We managed to pay a hostel owner’s son to drive us to a walk-in clinic attached to a hospital. It wasn’t super close, at least a 25-minute drive, and he had to drop us off and go. We walked in and were informed the walk-in clinic had closed a few months prior. We couldn’t find any taxi companies. There were no Ubers or Lyfts anywhere in the area, and we were nowhere near the trail to ask for help. I was stuck with a miserably sick kiddo in the middle of nowhere.
A receptionist behind the hospital help desk watched the whole thing unfold; she saw we were in a pickle and how sick my kiddo was. To my surprise, she came over, told us she was just clocking out and that she knew of the nearest walk-in clinic and would drive us there. I literally burst into tears and hugged her. As she drove us, she told us her daughter had thru-hiked the trail years ago and she’d heard her daughter’s stories of how complete strangers came to her help along the way. This was her way to pay it forward for all the kindness her daughter received on the trail. My poor kiddo had bronchitis, and our trail angel made sure we could get a ride back to the hostel before she left us.
Do you have trail magic to share?
Let us know in the comments.
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