PAWventure: Feral Joy

 

Completing the Old Logger's Path on a sun-drenched autumn day

Our long trek did not go according to plan. Not even close. What began as a nearly 300-mile PAW Mega Loop transformed into a 200 + mile PAWventure. In the Pennsylvania Wilds, we explored the Susquehannock Trail, the Quehanna Trail, the Black Forest Trail, the Chuck Keiper Trail, the Allegheny Front Trail and countless even lesser traveled connecting trails. Near the end of our journey, we ventured into the Ridge and Valley Region on the Mid State Trail and the Old Logger's Path. We finished in the Endless Mountains on the Loyalsock Trail. We hiked clear off the PA Wilds map. Our feet and hearts led the way. We found beauty in so many places. We seized joy. I'll circle 'round to that, the greatest gift from this trek, after I share with you our last week on the trail.

Shelter on the Mid State Trail inside Bald Eagle State Forest

The Pine Creek shelter called to me. I'd remembered thru hiking the Mid State Trail several years ago and anticipating this sanctuary for days. A rainstorm was rolling in as I'd neared. When I'd arrived, I'd found it occupied. Three kindly boys invited us in, but that's not how I roll, nor Amos. We like our solitude. We hiked on. So, when I'd stumbled upon the Central Mountains Shared Use Trails - a network of hiking, biking, and horseback riding trails in Bald Eagle State Forest, I figured I'd build us a hike around this sweet spot. I knew the terrain would be rocky. Pete Fleszar of the Mid State Trail warned me. So did the ranger at Raymond B. Winter State Park, who dug up an old copy of the Central Mountains Shared Use Trails that illustrated I'd unknowingly planned to hike some of the rockiest portions of trail. At the last minute, I altered our loop. We'd follow the Mid State Trail south to the shelter and then circle back on the scenic Pine Creek Road. 

A forest view from the Mid State Trail

Amos pulled ahead excitedly, elated to be back on the familiar Mid State Trail, and within less than a half mile, I was on the side of the trail yowling, grasping my knee. I lay atop a broken trekking pole, the tip still wedged in the rocks beneath me. After some choice words, I picked myself up, dusted off, shoved the tip of my broken pole in the side pocket of my pack, and hobbled on. After a peaceful night in the shelter, I was very happy the next day to stride the forest road back towards R.B. Winter where we'd started. 

Pine Creek Road, a lovely scenic walk along the boundary of the Hook Natural Area in Bald Eagle State Forest

Little did we know what lay in our path. We crested a hill and began a mile-long descent along the road when mewing kittens emerged from a leafy embankment. Amos darted, eager to meet new friends. I could barely believe my eyes. Two tabbies circled 'round my feet. I struggled to calm Amos. I sadly knew right quick how these babes happened to be here. They'd been abandoned. When I had arrived at the state park, Sharon and Jacque, two amazing women who staffed the office and had helped me secure a cabin at Bald Eagle State Park, had introduced me to a Maine Coon cat they had rescued. Another had been hit by a car. They had taken responsibility for that one too, taking it to a local veterinary where it had been euthanized. This beauty, however, with white wisps of fur that curled 'round her ears, whiskers 6 inches long, and a fluffy tail, had survived. Jacque was feeding her well and had made a spot for her on her desk with cardboard and a heating pad. They had informed me that both cats and dogs were periodically dropped there in the park. Mind you, this park is remote. Were it not for the kindness of Jacque and Sharon and the rest of the staff at the park, these precious animals wouldn't stand a chance. From my lonely road, I desperately tried to get a signal to call the office. I knew Sharon and Jacque would help. But after a dozen tries it was clear the call would not go through. I decided to carry on quickly as I could and alert them as I reached the office. Surely, they would send a ranger to retrieve them. But the kittens had other ideas. 

RB and Winter following me down the path

One of two maintenance men who helped to transport the kittens to the safety of Jacque and Sharon

These two kittens, who I affectionately dubbed RB and Winter, followed me for over a mile. The real struggle was getting them across a busy road safely. The tiniest one allowed me to pick her up, but the larger one wouldn't have it. I tried to flag down passing vehicles, but no one stopped for the bedraggled hiker with a coonhound and two kittens at her feet, in the rain mind you. Not knowing what else to do, I scooped up the tiny one, looked both ways and dashed, knowing the larger one would follow quickly behind. We made it, and then I took an alternate route, a quiet park road that climbed a large hill. Suddenly a maintenance truck appeared. I stood in the middle of the road and waved my arms. The two fellas inside spotted me and quickly slowed. They remarked that these felines would be the seventh cats they'd found abandoned that week. I managed to pick up them both up and the men gladly drove them the rest of the way to safety. By later that afternoon, the Maine Coon cat would be adopted by a camper, and the tiniest kitten adopted by another staff member. I know the other will be homed as well. Thank you to the staff at Raymond B. Winter State Park for your kind hearts and going above and beyond in so many ways.

Signage for the Old Logger's Path

With my knee still aching from my fall and a kitten rescue, I was in need of some predictability. I decided we'd head for the Old Logger's Path in Loyalsock State Forest. We had already left the PA Wilds in R.B. Winter and Bald Eagle State Forest. Now, we would enter the Endless Mountains. Amos and I hiked this 27-mile loop last year and it was a dream. The trails are well-graded, with large portions being old forest roads and railroad grades. Vistas are abundant. Creeks flow heartily. Two shelters sit along the trail. Weather was predicted to be cool - high forties during the day, mid-thirties at night - and without rain. It would be a perfect place for us to simply walk and take it in. 

An enormous beech tree with a fused double trunk along the OLP

Like much of our northeastern woods, these forests were ravaged by the logging industry in the early 1900's. Despite this history some impressively large trees remain. Among them: beech, yellow birch, eastern hemlock, and red oak. Given the young forest that surrounds them, their presence feels all the more profound. They are elders, surely sharing nutrients through their subterranean mycorrhizal networks with hungry saplings. They tower, both paying homage to what once was and as symbols of could be. I lingered with as many as I could, giving small morsels of my own energy to these who provide for so many.

Broad leaf waterleaf (Hydrophyllum maculatum)

I marveled at the plants and fungi that also inhabited this trail. Young broad leaf waterleaf glowed green from the leafy forest floor. Goldenrod with fuzzy caterpillar plumes towered along Pleasant Stream beside scarlet staghorn sumac wands held high on silky branches sporting new buds. A single dandelion flowered in a rocky ditch. Wild carrot doilies and showy black-eyed Susan flowers brightened a dirt road. Velvety turkey tail fungi decorated a stump. Trees still clinging to leaves popped too - yellow birch glowed golden and maple shown ruby-red. The beech trees were largely bare and the cherries too, having already surrendered their leaves to the dormant season, but my goodness, there was still so much vitality in these woods.

A single dandelion (Taraxacum officinale)

Staghorn sumac (Rhus typhina)

The silky twigs of staghorn sumac showing off buds

Goldenrod gone to seed (Solidago sp.)

Turkey tail fungi on a stump (Trametes versicolor)

The Old Logger's Path, however, was not without its challenges. On our second day it unexpectedly stormed in the afternoon. The skies spat rain and hail, cold winds blew. That same day, we also forded a knee-deep creek. But being so near to the end of our journey, I reveled in whatever the trail threw our way. I knew our days were limited. I would embrace the icy cold water and the wet clothes. That night we'd be snug in our sleeping bag and in a few days, we'd be back in the comforts of home. Not a minute of our time was to be squandered. 

Sprout Point Vista, very near to the shelter where we spent our last night on the OLP

I was eager to revisit Sprout Point Vista. This vista is significant to me. Last year I had found antlers in the form of a dead-standing tree. In a selfie they had sprouted from my head! They represented so much: connection to my father, kinship with the natural world, a personal strength renewed. Now, I found just one. What could this mean? Perhaps I was unicorn now. Or perhaps we draw these connections, this magic, from different sources in different parts of our lives. On this journey, my father often visited in the sun. And these days I find my strength in this extraordinary coonhound.

With Amos and Dad at Sprout Point Vista

We completed the Old Logger's Path in about two and a half days. Where to go next? I had no service, no GPS, but I did have a map of Loyalsock State Forest. I decided we'd head east. That was at least the direction of home, and we had only a couple days left. After following many winding dirt roads, we found ourselves in Forksville beside two iron bridges. A road sign declared World's End State Park: 2 miles. I reckoned that could be an interesting place to visit, the name alone suggested mystery. But I was soon detoured by a red covered bridge and the promise of hot food.

Big Mike's Steaks and Hoagies

You must eat here (and I'm vegetarian). Big Mike's Steaks and Hoagies, located on the other side of that covered bridge in historic Forksville, is an oasis. Our diet out here is limited. We eat a lot of instant pasta and rice, cheese, granola bars, trail mix, and cheap bread products that won't mold. A treat is an egg sandwich from Sheetz or raw veggies from a grocery store. The Trail Gods were smiling upon us when they directed us here. Inside I found a whole section of their menu dedicated to vegetarian fare, each sandwich more creative and mouthwatering than the next. To top it off, on the counter was a sign: Puppy Bowls, plain steak or chicken for your fur-baby, $5. I ordered up the Woodstock, a Beyond Burger topped with melted swiss, sauteed mushrooms, onion rings, and some kind of heavenly mustard sauce. I got Amos a jam-packed puppy bowl of shredded chicken. We retreated to the car to eat our food and in that moment I didn't care where we were going or if we ever got there. All that mattered was the food in our bellies. FYI, Big Mike's was recently voted Best Cheesesteaks in PA by USA Today.

Sone's Pond in Loyalsock State Forest

Our permitted camp not far from the pond

When the food-induced coma lifted, we weaved through the rocky cliffs of World's End State Park, visited a roadside waterfall and vista and with the help of both park and state forest staff, found our way to a perfectly private campsite near Sone's Pond. This positioned us perfectly for the next day's hike on the Loyalsock Trail.

Easy railroad grade on the Loyalsock Trail

The Haystacks - Conspicuous boulders in Loyalsock Creek with a unique mineral composition not found in the surrounding area.

Blazes along the Loyalsock Trail

Our last day, we ventured out on the entirely new-to-us Loyalsock Trail. We hiked eight miles round trip from the start of the trail to near Sone's Pond, circling back via the Haystacks Trail. With the exception of one short steep climb, we hiked like the wind on easy graded trail. The skies were sunny, the temps brisk, the air crisp. We snuck a peek at Dutchman's Falls, the Haystacks (mysterious boulders along a portion of Loyalsock Creek), and reveled in spying a colorful ridgeline through the bare tree limbs. Amos' tail slapped back and forth like a windshield wiper. I turned my gaze to the treetops and whispered thank you. 

Milkweed seeds bursting from a pod along Pine Hollow Road in Bald Eagle State Forest

And if you've stuck with me through this lengthy post, thank you! I stated before we left for this trek that, "when we're done, we'll end up right back where we started. Though I am certain we won't be the same." We are now home and indeed we are different in body and mind. On this journey, Amos overcame tremendous physical challenges, renewing his strength and confidence. We learned all that's possible with adaptation and perseverance. And now, since returning home, we face another surgery. We have discovered a minute tear in the ligament in Amos' opposite leg. The vet says once this leg is fixed, his legs will be stronger than what he was born with. Life is riddled with obstacles. But it is also drenched in beauty. On this journey I rediscovered how to seize joy. And I intend to continue to seize it going forward. When it's there, fill 'er up. When you feel your feet light and your sight clarified, embrace it. When the wild spectacles grace your path, celebrate them. When your heart feels so full you can hardly bear it, give it. These, moments to remember, are gifts. Don't hold back. Go feral. Seize joy. Fill your reserves and joy will carry you. 

Pleasant Stream along the OLP

I'd like to thank all the folks that made this journey possible. Much gratitude to:

Members of the PAW Mega Loop Committee. You inspired me to hike so many new-to-me trails and I reveled in the sections of trail that I explored. 

Pete Fleszar for putting the wild idea of the PAW Mega Loop in my head! Pete provided me with the GPS route and the informal guide to follow it and graciously answered my many questions. Pete also retrieved Amos and I from the trail, allowing us an easier transition into our PAWventure. 

Jenn Ulmer for lending me her copies of precious out-of-print guidebooks (and maps), which made our hike on the Chuck Keiper possible. 

Albert Germann for his willingness to help with a resupply package and providing intel on conditions along the Chuck Keiper. 

The many members of the Keystone Trails Association for making my hike and so many others' hikes possible. These trails provide passage into a wild world that might otherwise be hard to access. 

So many kind souls I met along the way - state forest and state park staff, townspeople, shop owners. Your kindness made my day so many times.

Those who followed my journey through blog post and social media. A long trek (and joy) is better shared with others. 

Friends and family that buoyed me with supportive words or a simple check-in from back home.

Star Left, for being there if I needed help! And making the trail a little brighter.

My mom for shipping me so many packages all at once and putting up with my neurotic pre-hike anxieties. And for being Mom.

My love, Scott, for providing me with the love and support to take on big adventures and even from across an ocean, always being just a phone call away.

A Wild Time!

 

Hiking the Bridge Trail in the Quehanna Wild Area

I shared an update just a couple of weeks ago, but it feels like it's been far longer than that. Moving at this slower speed than I do in my everyday life and taking so much in. Being so very present from moment to moment, makes the days feel fuller, longer. Time moves differently out here. I relish it. I don't know about you, but I frequently feel the pressure of time hurrying me along. Not out here. We and time seem to tick along at the same speed, at least when we're in the woods. When we hit civilization again, whoosh! We're moving at high-speed again! Even if the high-speed internet and cell signal is slim to none out here. Alas, the fact that many of my photos have not yet downloaded to the cloud, and I've got just a tiny window of time in my warm and cozy cabin at the state park, I'll have to do my best to succinctly share with you all that we've experienced.

On the East Cross Connector Trail - Quehanna Wild Area - appreciating scarlet blueberry shrubs

For roughly one week we explored the Quehanna Wild Area. This area has an interesting history. In the 1950's it was owned, and fully fenced-in, by the Curtiss Wright Company for the development and testing of nuclear-powered jet engines (see The Botanical Hiker: The Quehanna Trail: An Eastern Loop and The Botanical Hiker: The Quehanna Trail: A Western Loop for more background). There was indeed a nuclear reactor here and numerous bunkers that housed, I would presume rather toxic and deadly materials. Although, the wild area is now largely deemed safe (there are still some spots that are off-limits) the paved roads, like Reactor Road, remain and the prominent Quehanna Highway which bisects the area remain. There is something post-apocalyptic about this land. If one looks back even farther, in the 1800's leading into the turn of the century, this area, like many others, was devastated by the logging industry. Evidence can be found throughout the forests, where few old growth trees remain and, I would presume in the vast meadows that cover portions of the wild area. However today, although the scars persist, it is a wild area under restoration, gradually healing from these wounds. I will admit, I was skeptical of the Quehanna Wild Area when I first learned of it. But this is a land that can now benefit from the presence of people, for that land that people interact and love, they will protect. I have fallen in love with the Quehanna Wild Area. 

Cotton-grass - a common sight in the marshier meadows. You can see thousands of these tufts mingling with scarlet blueberry shrubs and golden ferns and although not as colorful, they make me feel like Dorothy in a field of poppies.

Blueberry and huckleberry bushes dominate. Wintergreen and dewberry carpet the earth. Golden grasses, some of them cottony tufted, cushion your steps. The trail weaves and winds and rarely carries you too steeply for too long. Giant boulders sit sentinel in meadow and forest, ever surprising you with their presence. Creeks run crystal over equally large rocks. Sturdy wooden bridges cross most, though not all, of these hearty waterways. 

Saint John's Wort (I assume Marsh Saint John's Wort, though I have yet to get a definite ID)

I encourage you to explore the Quehanna Wild Area. You will have many of the trails to yourself for days at a time. There is a 70+ mile loop that surrounds the wild area and the East Cross Connector Trail conveniently allows you to divide this loop in two. This is what I did last year. However, this year, armed with a map and notes of the PAW Mega Loop, I had a good idea of where some of the most spectacular side trails might be. These, too, interconnect. So, it was easy to make my own variations on the loops, while also exploring some trails I knew nothing at all about. These were largely "red-dot" or multi-use trails, which were easy-walking, level, and beautiful. Among some of the trails I appreciated were: Bridge Trail, Kune's Camp Trail, Crawford Vista Trail, Riddle Road, and the Old Sinnemahoning Trail.

Dawn on the Allegheny Front Trail

In the Quehanna Wild Area, our miles began to lengthen. Amos had his trail legs, and I did too. I was eager to next hit a trail that we knew well. One that we could make miles on and simply enjoy the feeling of physicality, while also soaking in a variety of landscapes. We headed to the Allegheny Front Trail, also in Moshannon State Forest. The AFT is a 42-mile loop that encircles Black Moshannon State Park at its heart. This is a trail that is ever-changing.

One of several vistas along the Allegheny Front Trail

We began at the eastern end of Rattlesnake Pike and headed clockwise, taking four and a half days to complete the loop. Our hike began with sweeping vistas, one after another. Layers of mountains stretched into the distance, and I wondered how many we'd hiked before. The colors along this trail really popped, and I felt as if we were literally walking into beauty.

In a red pine plantation

At camp in the pine plantation along Six Mile Run

Our second day, we walked young woods through many red maple and sassafras saplings, witch hazel was abundant. Unfortunately, many oaks through this area were heavily impacted by spongey moths and so there are far fewer mature trees than there once were. We walked the sometimes rocky shore of the glistening Six Mile Run. This was also the day that we began to get intimate with the rhododendrons. Our trail fluctuated between rocky edge, hemlock glen, and rhodo tunnel. But that was just the start.

Where's Amos?

The next couple of days carried us through tunnels of rhododendron. They grasped at us from every angle. Last year I lost a pair of sunglasses in here. This year, I thought it might be my hat. But we made it through unscathed and believe it or not, I did revel in the musty aroma of these rhodo thickets - wet soil and earth and thick leathery leaves. The scent is intoxicating. We also climbed up rocky steep path, over old forest road, and along the edge of Moshannon Creek, or what the locals call Red Mo'. This creek that's as wide as a river has been contaminated from old mine run-off and now runs orange, void of most life. Despite its scars, like the Quehanna, it too, was still beautiful. And a harsh reminder of what happens when we merely extract from rather than cooperate with the natural world. However, as I camped alongside Red Mo' that night, we were visited by both screech owl and porcupine. So, the animals that live in relationship with it, have surely adapted. That day we also walked a labryinth of rhododendron along the clear-running Black Moshannon Creek and Benner Run.

Red Mo' (Moshannon Creek)

Our last day we strode through breath-taking mature hardwood forest. Large oaks and maple soared for the sky, with canopies of gold and ruby-red. The trail wound like a ribbon around the most enormous bases and danced over creeks. Our temps rose from below freezing at night to nearly seventy during the day. We practically skipped down the trail. In fact, we did run our last few steps. 

We ran because we could. Because of the thrill of six strong legs and the will to do those things that sometimes scare us. We slept through the first frost of the year on the Quehanna Trail and on the Allegheny Front we set out knowing that heavy rain was on the horizon. Throughout this hike, I have been vigilant of Amos' paws and newly mended leg. This journey has not been without its challenges. But we have faced each one, adapted, and grown stronger with every step and every mile. Amos Thunderfoot is strong as can be and I'm one happy human to have this fella by my side. The wild has a way of stripping away what doesn't serve you, strengthening what does, bringing you into the now, and clarifying all the gifts you receive every single day. And what a feeling that is. Sometimes it takes a long hike.

With the biggest Swamp White Oak recorded in Pennsylvania (more than 18' in circumference)

 

And now we are reaching the close of our PAWventure. We are enjoying a little luxury at Bald Eagle State Forest and tomorrow plan to revisit some miles on the Mid State Trail and connecting trails along the Central Trails Shared Trails System. Looking forward to this last leg of our journey!

 

Finding our Flow on the Chuck Keiper, Mostly

 

Amos crossing a bridge on the Chuck Keiper Trail

What a joy it was to walk, simply walk, following a singular route for over twenty miles. Since I last wrote we have hiked the eastern loop of the Chuck Keiper Trail. The southern part of this loop is also included in the PAW Mega Loop. This is a very lightly traveled trail located in remote Sproul State Forest. Sproul State Forest is the largest state forest in the state, spanning 305,000 acres. It is also home to not only the usual woodland creatures such as a healthy bear population, but elk. The local medical center is also said to stock more rattlesnake anti-venom than any other in the state (source: Dave Gantz). We chose this route because it was entirely new to us. The eastern loop was said to be in better shape than the western, and according to the topo, looked a less rugged as well. I figured Amos and I could just set the gears to cruise here. 

Meadow along the Chuck Keiper

We began at the parking area for the East Branch Trail late in the day. I was delighted to find the trail well-marked and easy to follow as we wound through shaded woods and alongside a swamp. We camped within just a few miles beside a great big boulder. But, Amos seemed on edge here. Normally, once the tent is up, he settles in for the night. However, he was all ears. I, too, felt the woods were alive, but generally had good vibes and could see nothing out of the ordinary. That evening as we lay sleeping, we suddenly awoke to the cracking of twigs, rustling of leaves, and finally, a loud snort. I was relieved when I heard that snort! Just a deer. Snort all you want, I thought to myself. But then the snorting continued. I zipped up my sleeping bag a little more and rolled over. Then the creature stomped his hoof so loud it reverberated. The snorting continued. It began to dawn on me then, this may not be a deer, but an elk! Amos was at attention, his head up, ears pricked. I pet him to assure there was no need for alarm. Even if I was a little alarmed. We lay there as quietly as we could while the snorting and stomping continued. Finally, our night-time visitor, whom we had clearly agitated with our unfamiliar tent, seemed to circumnavigate our tent and dash into the woods on the other side of us. In the distance I heard faint snorting, then farther off yet, a bugle.

Crossing hot and sunny plateau

Our first full day on the CKT, we encountered bountiful water sources and crested the plateau. Here the colors were popping and the conditions were crispy. Rain, as those of you in the region know, has been scarce, and this higher elevation terrain showed it. We walked alongside scores of young sassafras with zigzagging, furrowed trunks and scarlet leaves. So many, I noticed, had only entire leaves, meaning leaves without lobes. Typically sassafras sports entire, mitten-, and t-rex-foot-shaped leaves. However, not these, they were largely uniform. Yet, so fragrant, when I cracked a twig. Despite the dry conditions, by goodness, the scents in the forest on this day were invigorating, such as the scent of sweet fern baking along a sunny dry path or the smell of wet soil in a cool dark hollow. We trekked along fast as we could here, dodging the artfully constructed spiderwebs and I picking the ticks off us both, and were relieved when we finally descended, very steeply, to a creek.

Sassafras leaf (entire) - the roots of this tree were a traditional ingredient in ol' time root beer. They are also medicinal, lending a warming and moistening quality to tissues.

Benjamin Run was just what we needed and a perfect spot for camp. That evening a nearly full moon shone bright, reflecting in the pool you see here. A northern saw-whet owl serenaded us. 

The third day, well, the trail took a turn. We were cruising, despite the surprisingly steep ups and downs. They weren't all that long nor that technical and were interspersed with rolling easy terrain. However, as we descended from Grugan Hollow Road, dropping down quick and then gradually farther and farther into the hollow, the blowdowns began. First just a couple, then a couple more. Here the trail is cut into a towering, wooded embankment, wide enough just for our six feet. Blowdowns in such a spot are tricky, trickier yet when you're lifting your pup by the rear to help him over or climbing the steep hillside to go 'round them all together. The blowdowns continued, now interspersed with thickets of blackberry vines, stinging wood nettle, and saplings. Eventually that's all there was, a thicket on wooded mountainside crisscrossed with fallen trees. We pressed on. I sure didn't want to navigate all that we'd already traversed. We tore through vines, and I slid on loose rock and mud. Blood dripped from my arms and legs. My knee that had felt a tad sore was relieved by pure adrenaline. Amos followed my every command, but I feared for those feet I'd been nursing and the leg that had been repaired. When I finally lost sight of the blazes ahead, any semblance of a trail beneath my feet long gone, we doubled back. Heading all the way up that steep climb to Grugan Hollow. 

Doing battle with the mountain, especially in shorts is never a good idea

Now to make matters all the more interesting. I was due to meet up with my dear friend, Star Left, whom I first met on the Finger Lakes Trail more than 10 years ago along the trail, and has joined me on many trails. She had parked west of where I planned to camp and would hike east towards me. We'd meet in the middle. Little did we know there was an impasse right in that spot. There would be no meeting in the middle when I was now on gravel forest road in mid-day sun so hot that the light rippled in the distance. Amos and I took a break beneath the shade of an oak, guzzled water and recovered. Then we walked three miles on that road and backtracked as far as we could on the Keiper in search of Star Left. I feared she might be lost in the impasse or worry about my whereabouts all night long.

Finally uniting with Star Left!

We never did connect that night, but she finally got cell service early evening. She'd made it through the impasse. Go Star Left!! And ended up on that road too. But she'd gotten a ride back to her car. I was now camped halfway down the hollow. I went to sleep exhausted, my spirits heavy. However, I awoke early. I looked us over. Amos walked about camp easily. We were scratched up and weary, but Amos' paws looked good, and all our parts worked. The morning's miles went by easily and we finally united with Star Left at Drake Hollow. There we took a leisurely lunch and compared battle wounds from the Boggs Run impasse. With much reluctance, I said goodbye to Star Left and Amos and I headed up, up, up a well-graded grassy path where we were rewarded with the most peaceful campsite of the entire trek thus far.

Our camp in a circle of Witch Hazel

We'd taken a chance that we'd find a place to pitch a tent. There was no campsite listed but I wanted to get that final climb under our belts to make our last day an easy one. What a gift when we crested the plateau and found a wide path flanked by spacious woods. First the shade of a pine caught my eye. It was late afternoon, and the temps were around 80 degrees, we needed shade. But I carried on a tad farther, and suddenly I spotted it - a perfect cirlce of witch hazel shrubs. Three shrubs, one quite large, the others still maturing, framing a lovely flat spot with plenty of space for our tent. We collapsed in the shade. We guzzled water. I set up the tent and Amos scratched out a spot in the leaves beneath the elder witch hazel. I have slept many nights in the shelter of witch hazel and always rested easy. She is a shrub known for protection and for nourishment (she signals water). She also plays host to so many critters, and some nights, those critters are a girl and her coonhound. That night as the full moon shone through the scalloped leaves, creating a shadowy artwork on the top of the tent, I gave thanks. Thanks for our healthy bodies, thanks for this trail to walk, thanks for friends, thanks to all the living forest.

A victorious selfie at Fish Dam Vista

We finished up the loop with easy miles on forest roads and along shaded and grassy trails along the plateau. At Fish Dam Vista we reveled in an incredible view that stretched for miles. I was just so happy to be walking, this pup by my side. We'd had a rough start to this trek, but together we had adapted, and were now finding our stride. That doesn't mean it'll be a cakewalk from here on out. Boggs Run is proof of that. But when we're walking, all six of our feet, and the leaves are crunching underfoot, the sun is shining through the canopy, the scent of sweet fern and hemlock permeates, we're on the trail, body, mind, and soul, and there's nowhere else I'd rather be. Now where are we headed next?

Sneezeweed

We're presently sheltering from the rain and prepping for colder temps. We also appreciated all the services of Renovo: grocery, laundromat (next to the Legion), pharmacy, and post office. Tomorrow onto the Quehanna Wild Area we go! I'm sorting out our route and looking forward to revisiting this special place and exploring some new-to-us connecting trails. Thank you for sharing in our story with us!

It's a PAWventure!

Our best attempt at a selfie, however I also think this photo captures our current spontaneity

When last I checked in, we were questioning our future miles. Amos' paw was inflamed and I wondered just what shape our trip might take. We have adapted our thru-hike of the PAW Mega Loop into a PAWventure! Yep, that's what I'm calling it because we've cast all plans right off the cliff. We're wild folks! We're going wherever our paws feel called to go. That's kind of big for me. I'm a planner. But that's why I'm embracing this journey. Everyday it is becoming and so are we. Becoming what? We'll have to see how the wild shapes us.

Amos approaching the East Fork Trail on the Susquehannock Trail System

We returned to the Susquehannock Trail System (STS) for our first day of hiking after healing. A simple five miles out and five miles back with a stay at Dynamite Shelter overnight. We took a side trail from Route 44 by the vista for Water Tank Hollow that led us to the East Fork Trail and the STS. It was only about a mile long, but level, sunny, and stunning. It was a perfect re-entry. Upon reaching the STS, we started up the mountain, following lengthy switchbacks, to the Cherry Springs Fire tower. Here we whooshed through level woods, finally reaching the precipice of Cardiac Climb. On went Amos' new booties and down we went hundreds of feet over young shoots of chickweed and yellow wood nettle. It's a shame the nettle is past its prime for eating but quite fine it's no longer stinging!

Cardiac Climb on the Susquehannock Trail System

At the bottom, we reached the junction for the West Branch Trail and headed up to the Dynamite House Shelter. This shelter is in my opinion no place to sleep unless you're in a serious storm. However, it is fascinating. According to the guidebook, this solid brick building, was built by the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) back in the 1930's to store dynamite. It is complete with an iron door and no windows. However, the Susquehannock Trail Club has made it as cozy inside as possible should one need to take cover. We opted instead to set up our tent in the spacious sunlit woods. 

Dynamite House Shelter

Lounging in the tent

The next morning, we headed back the way we came, however Amos insisted we take the Hopper House Hollow trail. This added on at least a mile or so, and it grew more overgrown the farther we followed it, but the fungi finds along the way! While admiring the spiny caps of sharp scaly Pholiota, I couldn't help but notice the drone of flies nearby. I saw the swarm and then spied the rather repulsive red stinkhorn. As I drew closer for a photo, sure enough it was stinky! Stinkhorns smell of carrion to attract insects that will carry their spores away to colonize new places.

Sharp Scaly Pholiota

Red Stinkhorn

Upon return to the trailhead, I checked Amos' paws and found them all looking strong and supple. We would exercise caution, but our trek would indeed continue! Where would we go next? I decided we'd hike portions of the PAW Mega Loop we most wanted to see, seek other intriguing routes, and perhaps revisit favorites. So off to Tiadaghton State Forest we went to return to the Black Forest Trail. 

The Black Forest Trail is a rugged 42-mile loop through Tiadaghton State Forest

Before the PAW I'd never explored the Black Forest Trail, and following the PAW's circuitous route would also provide a glimpse at other trails in the vicinity, such as the Woods and Child Trail and the Gas Line Trail past Bob and Dotty Webber's old homesite. We started near the village of Slate Run early in the cool morning temps. The path was blanketed in rusty pine needles and wide for the first mile or so, then it began up the mountain. Our path narrowed and grew leafy as walked switchbacks and then hiked simply UP. We were however, graced with views along the way. I remained in the lead as its rocky top is notorious for housing rattlesnakes. If ever there was a test of Amos' recovery, this was it. And he did amazing.

Climbing mountains on the Black Forest Trail

One of the many views from the Black Forest Trail

The Woods and Child Trail led us into a dark mossy cove rife with big-leaved wood sorrel, foam flower and heart-shaped violet leaves. I sampled some wood sorrel leaves - lemony delicious. Hornbeam was bejeweled with ripe fruits. Back on the Black Forest Trail, we spent the evening by Little Slate Run in the company of wild ginger, towering basswood, maple, and eastern hemlock, and were serenaded by barred owls late into the evening. 

A hollow along the Woods and Child Trail, note mossy bridge

Violet and foamflower leaves adorned moss blanketed logs and rocks

Ripe hornbeam fruits

The next day we climbed from the hollow and once above, spied the blanket of fog from rising from where we'd slept into the clouds. We followed the Black Forest Trail to the Bicentennial Trail where I laid my whole body against an old growth eastern hemlock. The scent of her bark was intoxicating. I wondered at how many years she had stood in this place, watching day turn into night, season into season, saplings springing forth, and old trees dying, the periodic people that passed through never lingering long. I admired her patience, to stand in one place. But alas it is her nature.

Fog rising from the hollow

 

Old growth eastern hemlock, roughly 4 feet in diameter, backpack for perspective. 

We walked a wooded ridgetop rife with views. Following the Gasline Trail, we came upon the old homesite of Bob and Dotty Webber. Bob was a DCNR forester, a naturalist and integral to the construction of numerous trails in the region, including the Black Forest Trail. He and his wife, Dotty, lived on this remote ridge for over five decades. A large rock rustically engraved now marks their grave. The cabin was relocated to the Lumber Museum in nearby Ulysses, PA, however the slate stone walkway remains. I found a rubber doormat carefully placed there too. A short side trail led to the edge of the ridge revealed an epic vista. This place resonated with presence as we walked quietly about. Surely, Bob and Dotty had a relationship with this mountain few do today with wild places. 

Resting place of Bob and Dotty Webber - "Home on the Rim"

And then, the trail just disappeared. So, we backtracked to the Black Forest and were rewarded there with more incredible vistas, each vista complete with a log bench for viewing. There was no denying we were in the mountains, mountains larger than ours back home in northeastern Pa. We were reminded again as we wound down over ten long switchbacks to the base of the mountain, taking a short side trail back into the village of Slate Run.

A Black Forest Trail vista

Yesterday we visited the Bohen Trail that begins in the village of Blackwell by Pine Creek. I had long looked forward to this portion of the PAW. To be honest, I'd also feared a slim boardwalk that stretched across a notch in the mountainside that I knew we'd have to traverse. Amos has walked countless slim trails and is an expert log- and bridge-crosser. But you know, you get a thing in your head. Pete's informal directions for this route also used the word "precarious" in describing this area and warned not to attempt in icy conditions. So, since I feared it, basically now we had to do it. The day was cool and crisp and drenched in sun, a perfect autumn day to walk the plank.

Amos appreciating Pine Creek

We started up a series of wooden beams cut into the steep slope. Some were collapsing. However, the trail was no slimmer than many we've walked before. In short order we approached a boardwalk. No way, this could be it already I thought to myself, this is nothing, like totally not a thing. We pranced across it with ease. Note to self, usually that thing that you've built in your mind to be fearsome turns out to be meek. I think the boardwalk had simply become a good outlet for my multitude of worries. Unfortunately, the photos are still uploading to the cloud, so I have no illustration, but I promise you'll chuckle when you see it. 

Heading up the Bohen Trail to the West Rim Trail

The Bohen Trail led to Jerry Run Falls, an enchanting stony cut where crystalline water flowed over a steep precipice. Perhaps this was the "precarious" place his directions referenced, who knew, it no longer mattered. We'd conquered the plank, and this watery hollow was stunning. On our way here we also enjoyed a spur trail that led down to beautiful campsites along Pine Creek. What a place. I had considered doing just an out and back but these woods beckoned so we continued up the well-graded Bohen Trail, following Jerry Run and then turned onto the equally well-graded West Rim Trail. We ascended a mighty mountain, but the way in which the trail was constructed, we cruised (having next to nothing in my pack may have also helped). On top of the ridge, yet again, an incredible vista, that gave us a glimpse of where we'd began in Blackwell.  

Vista from West Rim trail into Blackwell

We followed the winding and scenic West Rim Road back down into Blackwell. There we waded in Pine Creek. I spotted two eagles fly overhead. In that moment this little bend in the creek seemed like the most perfect place in all the land. I stopped back in a Miller's General Store to say hi to Anne and Ruth Ann. And then, we were back in the car, destination Hyner Run State Park and just beyond, the Chuck Keiper Trail. 

Thank you for following along on our PAWventure! Experiences are better when shared! Now, time to get hiking!

Amos is always ready for a walk!

BTW if you're looking for some comfy places to kick up your feet or rest your paws, we appreciated Miller's General Store Air B&B and the Potter County Family Campground. From the campground we drove to Pet Smart, only nearly two hours away in Williamsport. Amos picked out his own pair of boots and I loaded up on all the first aid goodies I could possibly think of. Another recommendation: Scout's Honor Prebiotic Balm. I now give Amos' paws a spa treatment every evening and morning, which seems to be keeping them happy. The boots we've only used for about a mile, but now we have 'em in case we need 'em.