DBCFlash

The trail skirts alongside the Housatonic Rail line and was covered in huge downed trees and lumber from above. The largest of the downed trees had thankfully been sawn through, but there was one very tall, dead tree lightly hung up in the boughs of another, eerily creaking, swaying and moaning in the breeze. I puckered up and scurried past this evil widow-maker, my imagination picturing the giant log crushing me at any moment. we popped out at the intersection of routes 112 and 7 and couldn't figure out where to go next. The roads and guardrails were all brand new and we didn't see white blazes anywhere. I plopped down beside the new bridge to try and read the map, and Steve laughed. I was sitting beside a great big Appalachian Trail emblem built right into the bridge. Crossed the bridge, yellow blazed past the muddy cornfield an headed back into the woods, climbing up to Sharon Mountain.