Enchantment in Delaware State Forest

Amos looking down the trail in Delaware State Forest

Delaware State Forest is an under-appreciated gem. It is comprised of a patchwork of protected lands, encompassing over 83,000 acres in northeast Pennsylvania. A small, but seemingly vast, portion of it has been my stomping grounds providing exploration, inspiration, botanical study and serenity for many years. Just two roads are my only access points by car, neither of which are paved by the time you reach the forest. Mind you, not only are they not paved, but riddled with potholes and ruts. There are few amenities for visitors, but I believe this lack of development has preserved the magic for those of us who enter wilderness for wilderness' sake. When I hike this land, I rarely encounter another person, even during our covid pandemic, and I admit I like it that way. Therefore, although I encourage you to visit this special patch of forest, I will leave it to you to do the homework to learn how to access it by trail. May you have the joy of discovery I have in uncovering its little-visited treasures.

Marsh with beaver dam 

Recently Scott and I explored Yellow Pine Trail, a trail I have tried numerous times to follow to its end, but maintenance is so poor, that much of the trail has overgrown with lowbush blueberry, blackberry brambles and high grasses. However, sunlight streaming through the trees at a sharp bend, beckoned us through woods rife with black birch, witch hazel, and highbush blueberry to see what laid beyond. We soon reached land's end at a marsh. From looking at a map, we decided this was likely Pinchot Brook. The beavers here have flooded the neighboring woods, dramatically widening the creek and making a luxurious home for themselves. An impressive dam retained its waters that reflected the blue sky above. We could see clearly where the materials for construction had been obtained given the gnawed through tree trunks surrounding us.

Evidence of beavers

Grassy hummocks made for good stepping stones and moss-covered fallen logs made homes for northern white violets, while the sucking mud on the shore provided just the right stuff for fuzzy cinnamon fern fiddleheads. Birds flitted to and froe and salamanders glided through shallow water near the shore.

Cinnamon fern fiddlehead

Northern white violet (Viola pallens) 

Inspired by this bushwhack, we decided we'd finally venture beyond another marshy area at the end of Craft Farm Road. We'd walked this gravel and grass forest road many a time before, but always stopped when we reached the crumbling remains of the old Craft Farm and what looked like a pond encircled with white pines. However, the woods whispered to us, err at least me, from the other side. Having spent so much time swamp-walkin' in Florida, I suggested to Scott we just put on our swamp sandals and walk across the thing. But, Scott wisely suggested the mud might be deeper than we think and perhaps we should walk around the edge of it, see if there wasn't an easier place to get across.

Craft Brook

And we sure did! Instead of mucking through mud and algae and swamp water up to our knees, we waded across the slithering Craft Brook, although I did sink in up to my shins when I mistook a hunk of black sodden soil for hard earth. We lunched on the other side beneath a thick leafy canopy on a slab of lichen-blanketed rock and let Amos off the leash when he started protesting.

Amos cooling off in Craft Brook

And with that - lunch was abruptly over. Amos sniffed around the leaf litter for a moment, darting this way and that and then took off like a shot from a cannon headed downstream. We packed up and scurried on after him. Turns out Amos was leading us to the most intriguing aspects of this forgotten place.

Stonewall with passage for creek

While he waded in the creek we enjoyed a stroll across a wide stone wall fashioned with a passage for the creek. Once on the other side, he leapt through the woods like a fox and we tromped over downed trees and beneath the low-hanging boughs of pines, side-stepping many a sun-bathing snake and glimpsing the wildflowers growing along the moist embankment.

Windflower (Anemone quinquefolia)

Meet windflower, one of the very first medicinal plants introduced to me by my mentor, Juliet Blankespoor. It is considered an anxiolytic, nervine, and hypnotic - slightly psychoactive. She promoted its moderate use in trauma, depression, and panic attacks. I have personally never partaken of its medicine, but can remember well sitting in a circle with my peers somewhere deep in the Appalachian mountains admiring its finely cut leaves that have a sort of shimmer and it expansive flower face.

Dwarf ginseng (Panax trifolius)

Here's another beauty - dwarf ginseng - a much smaller version of the wild ginseng that is far more difficult to find in our Pennsylvania woods. Dwarf ginseng, although related, is not considered to have the same medicinal properties as ginseng, which is adaptogenic, but is instead an edible. The tubers may be unearthed and eaten as a trailside nibble.

Amos traverses a downed tree trunk

It took us a solid forty minutes to wrangle that Amos up, who had frolicked his way downstream, back to the trail and all the way to the truck before turning tail and returning to us. So when only Amos and I set out for our most recent excursion, he stayed leashed. Still, together we managed to discover some more beauty unexpected and delve into the mysteries that these woods behold.

Buckhorn Ridge fire tower

Here in Delaware State Forest stands Buckhorn Ridge fire tower, a relic from a bygone era in which men used to staff these towers to keep watch over the forest. Up until fairly recently, one could climb up into the cabin at the top and gaze out over the treetops in all directions. The door in the floor that provided access has now been nailed shut - likely due to vandalism - but that didn't prevent another creature from keeping vigil just below it. Likely this nest of twigs, branches, bark and duff was persistently crafted by a hawk or perhaps even an eagle. Any of my birding people have an idea?

Bird nest just below cabin to fire tower

At the base of this fire tower, upon a mossy bed atop the earth, sprung forth woodland plants. These plants persisted along a long carpet of soft green moss that led from the tower deeper into the woods along the Buckhorn Ridge Trail.

Wild Sarsaparilla (Aralia nudicaulis)

Wild sarsaparilla is a common sight in out northeastern woods, although easily overlooked due to its indistinct divided green leaves. When the plant produces its flowering stalk which arises from its base and also branches three ways terminally, supporting three round umbels of white flowers, it is easier to identify. But it is the root of wild sarsaparilla that is the prize. The root possesses some of the same adaptogenic qualities as ginseng, supporting the body's energy through enhancing the function of the entire glandular system. When unearthed, the root is fragrant and when simmered in hot water for an infusion, delicious. It also provides warmth throughout the body and is useful in combatting chest congestion.

Indian cucumber (Medeola virginiana)

This special plant, Indian cucumber, cannot be found just anywhere, however where you find one, you will often find many. I find it indicative of healthy woods or woods on the rebound, steadily making their way back to balance. Its common name speaks to its tuber which grows laterally under the soil. It is small and slender and white in color and when washed up, makes a for an crisp edible morsel. The flavor is surprisingly close to cucumber but with a touch of heat at finish.

A watery botanical wonderland

Our runway of moss carried us gradually downhill and soon transitioned to rocky trail. At a depression in the forest, we stumbled into the most magical wallow. False hellebore stood tall above the shallow water with roots deep in mud, marsh marigold and ragwort camped on grassy island hummocks, and faces of marsh blue violet poised on long slender stems arose from grass and moss beside fallen logs. Fiddleheads clustered here and there just on the outskirts and sensitive fern, fully unfurled, dappled throughout like footprints through the muck. Amos collapsed belly down in these spring waters, as enchanted as myself.

Marsh marigold (Caltha palustris)

Marsh marigold, a member of the Buttercup family, is indeed edible but not one that I have personally ventured to sample. Reportedly, young leaves and flower buds are edible, after boiled in numerous changes of water to leach toxic glycoside protoanemonin which can cause intoxication and gastric upset. There are other cautionary edibles I do from time to time enjoy, such as common milkweed blossoms and shoots, but this beauty is always one that I've felt more compelled to admire than ingest.

Marsh blue violet (Viola cuculatta)

Any violet in the Appalachians that is blue or white in color, or a combination of, is edible. Leaves are highly mucilaginous as well as astringent - a unique combo - reducing inflammation and irritation throughout the gastro-intestinal tract. Besides all that they are deliciously green in flavor, perfect raw in salads or cooked in any meal. Flowers are edible as well and may be sweet, spicy, or even minty. Use them to enhance any dish with a touch of the wild.

Sensitive fern (Onoclea sensibilis)

A fern guide I regularly reference from 1956 (one of the simple truths of plants - in form they remain the same even over three-quarters of a century) accurately describes sensitive fern's appearance as an "unfernlike fern". Compared to our many lacy- or feather-leaved ferns, it does have a dramatically different appearance. Leaves are short and stout, triangular in shape and backward bending so that they face the sky.

Trail in Delaware State Forest

Making our way down the trail, the forest seemed to spread out all around us. The trail grew increasingly rocky and we moved more slowly watching our steps carefully. Given that the trees had not yet leafed out, we were bathed in sunlight. At our feet, some very special plants made an appearance.

Downy yellow violet (Viola pubescens)

Yellow violets, a sight I always regard as unique as we have so many blue and white violets, but so many fewer species that are yellow. Here we have the downy yellow violet, appropriately scientifically called Viola pubescents. It you look closely you can see its fine hairs adorning leaves and stem. These are not violets that we would eat, but those that offer simply their sunny faces to brighten our path.

Pink lady slipper (Cypripedium acaule)

These broad green leaves with deep parallel veins harken the soon-to-arrive showy pink blossoms of the pink lady slipper. Pink lady slipper is an eye-catching orchid, distinct from all other flowers in our forest. To me, it almost seems out of place in our northeastern woods, perhaps better suited to an alien plant with a kaleidoscope of vibrantly colored vegetation. Sometimes you'll find just one or two of these in a patch, other times you are lucky enough to spot one and then notice them scattered all about your feet.

Moss with rusty-colored reproductive stalks called seta and capsules atop. Inside these capsules are spores that when conditions are dry, will be released to generate more moss 

Slime mold (Hemitrichia) - slime molds were initially included in the Fungi kingdom but are now considered part of the kingdom Protista. The orange cap atop this stalk is a sporangia, containing spores. 

It seemed all around us, new life was awakening, our eyes adjusting to the finer details of the forest the longer we attuned to our surroundings. At another mucky wet area in the forest, dead trees laid across pools of water gathered about the snaking tree roots of yellow birch and provided substrate for mosses now reproducing. Speaking of alien, slime mold probed the gelatinous surface of still water, their orange caps like tentacles reaching upward. In a gnarled tree stump, long decaying, gradually morphing from stump to soil, a community of marsh blue violet flourished.

Decaying stump housing wildflowers

But we could not stay here in Delaware State Forest forever. The light had shifted, it was now late in the afternoon and time to pick up the pace and head for home. So as Amos and I made our way from forest to field, arriving in an old shooting range, the grass about our calves thick with goldenrod shoots and the unfurling leaves of sweet fern, we swiftly made our way to Range Road. Crossing over the gas pipeline, that is an eyesore but at the same time affords views of the trees in flower, I was grateful to have had the time once again in these woods, a place where nature reigns in all her all at once, subtle and magnificent beauty.

Range Road with view of flowering trees bordering pipeline