The Batona Trail is a 50-53 mile (honestly I don’t think anyone knows. It’s impossible to find a correct and accurate mileage report, more on that later) thru trail that got its name from condensing the phrase Back To Nature into the cute little name it goes by now (Ba-To-Na). The trail cuts through three state forests at the heart of the Pine Barrens. Common in Jersey lore, the pine barrens are a unique habitat punctuated with pine and oak trees and home to many cedar water rivers, flora, and fauna. And above all, the pine barrens are home to the infamous Jersey Devil, a figure who just the thought of sent shivers down my spine camping in Girl Scouts. But really, the Batona Trail is just a boring flat trail that held no interest to me. With sandy trail and monotonous views void of sweeping landscapes and vistas, why would I ever waste my time completing this trail?
Well, all these negatives are exactly why I decided to thru hike the Batona Trail. In preparation for the PCT, I needed a shakeout trail that would test not only my gear and physical abilities, but something that would test my mental fortitude. Cue The Batona Trail. Can I handle big mile days? Sure. Can I handle all my gear and survive if something fails? Hopefully. But can I manage to not want to jump out of my skin if I’m bored out of my mind on a trail that brings nothing to the table? Well, this is where I have my doubts. So I packed my pack (Minnie is back), strapped on my new (discounted!) trail runners, and set off in hopes of conquering the BT.
Logistics for this trail were… difficult. I only could afford 3 days and 2 nights. 53 miles in that timeframe is totally doable. The wrench in the plans is camping. You cannot wild camp on the BT. You can only camp in established campgrounds that you have to register for. The problem is they are horribly spaced for a 3 day attempt. The only way I could work it would be a 17 mile, 18 mile, then a 20+ miler. Not ideal, but could be worse.
The first day set off without a hitch (literally, my dad dropped me off). I started excited to see what the trail would bring. Well, that excitement turned to frustration when faced with the first hurdle – blowdowns. A blizzard passed through this area 2 weeks ago, dumping well over 18 inches of snow 2 weeks after an ice storm of the century that had only just started to thaw out. The Blizzard of 2026 destroyed many trees who were unable to withstand the weight of the snow. Many of those fallen trees happened to land right in the middle of the trail. Navigating through that was difficult and taxing, but luckily most were easy to pass. I only saw 2 people the entire day and stopped dead in my tracks when I spotted my initials etched into the trail right before my very eyes. Is the Jersey Devil out to get me?! My brain could not comprehend the coincidence until my dad texted me… the jokester did it when coming back home. I have to remind him of the leave no trace principles, ha!
The day was fine until I got to the cutoff for the campground. It was a mile of blowdowns that were all but impossible to manage. The only way through was around them, in feet high brambles of angry greenbriar, better known as thorns. It took patience and time to pass, both of which I was running out of just by the time I got through. My legs took the brunt of it, the thorns pierced through my skin leaving many scratches. Knowing I had to go back through in the morning was daunting, but hard things will happen on the PCT so no use complaining.
Camp was empty and quiet despite being right on a road. I learned that my air mattress was holey and unable to hold air. Fabulous! I knew I was in for a rough night. I couldn’t find the holes to repair, so my best bet was to blow it up and pray that I would fall asleep in the 7 minutes it took to deflate before I felt the icy ground. That’s the issue – not the discomfort of sleeping on a hard ground, but the lack of insulation from the frozen ground the mattress provides. At 37 degrees F, I was certainly shivering through the entire night. But again, the PCT will surely provide fairly numerous nights of discomfort, so I may as well get used to it.
I slept in (yes I was actually able to get in a few hours!) and broke down camp lazily the next day. I managed to get through the mile connector trail at the loss of my Frogg Togg rain pains. Stepping over the blow downs ripped the crotch in record time (any Frogg Togg pants owner knows these crotch rips are notorious. I held together my pants with Duct Tape the entire CT) and the thorns tattered the rest. Adding to the list of gear to get. The night before I realized I grossly underpacked food and did not have enough for the next day. Imagine my delight when 6 miles into the hike I spotted a beautiful sight – Julia running towards me with plenty of goodies to get me through the hike! We walked together briskly for a few miles until our trails departed. The trail provides, and Julia certainly is a trail angel!
Trail magic is something that hikers refer to as tiny unexpected blessings usually from strangers that make your hike better. In the three days I was out, I encountered a surpingly high amount of trail magic from (unbeknownst to them) trail angels for such a quiet trail. Julia obviously was one example. I had one woman offer me an armful of snacks at the Batsto Visitor Center and another woman offer me an entire peanut butter sandwich on trail. While I wasn’t desperate enough to accept, it’s nice to know that there are people out there who offer what they have to a stranger. For all they know, their kindness could have made the difference between quitting and being able to go on.
I made it to camp early and had an uneventful evening – other than finding the holes in my airmattress! I was able to hunt them down and patch them. I was so unbelievably excited that I wouldn’t have to spend another night on the cold hard ground! Bedtime was as soon as the sun went down. With daylight savings that night and a 20+ mile day the next day, I knew I had to get up early.
And so I did. I woke up dazed and confused at 4:15am not sure exactly what time my body thought it was (3:15am as I have come to realize in an unconfused state). I got on the trail at 5am and used my new and fancy headlamp to guide me through the dark forest. At first I was a little nervous about what lurked in the woods (I heard a very unsettling half hour scream/chant fest at midnight that night) but after a mile or two I settled in and was able to navigate the trail without issue. I learned that the little green glitter that caught the light of the headlamp were spider eyes and was deeply unsettled by the amount there were lining the forest floor – literally thousands. I got to the high point of the trail – a whopping 205 feet! That’s only 12,948 feet difference between the high point of the PCT, HA!
The morning brought rain that quickly changed to hot and humid as the sun came out. My feet started to hurt and the last few miles were truly a sufferfest. But again, I’m expecting to hurt on the PCT so may as well get used to it. After 22.2 miles, I ended the trail with my dad and high tailed it home. Overall, it was a fun experience and definitely got me ready for all that I would expect on the PCT in a smaller scale. And happily, my mental state held strong – mission accomplished.
Emilie Bikes and Hikes 