Exploring Hammersly Wild Area and More

 

Amos and I taking shelter from the rain beneath the awning of a hunt camp

On my Pennsylvania Wilds Wander I also had time to enjoy some day hikes. This has been one of the luxurious things about having my car along with me on this journey. I've never had such freedom before to just grab a beautiful roadside campsite or leap over to a stretch of trail that called to me on a map. Also, driving rural roads between loops and in further exploring has also provided a glimpse into the culture and beauty of the larger region - the multitude of creative hunt camps from hand-painted decades-old tin trailers to exquisite log cabins with swinging bridges strung over a necessary creek crossing, the roadside signs for elk crossings, the eclectic seasonal campgrounds with cottages and trailers and sometimes combinations thereof (I want to be a little ol' lady in one of these one day), the local gas station that also serves as the local restaurant, the miles of forest road that wind through these hills (some easily passable, some not), and the tiny cottages that seem only accessible via ATV or snowmobile. Countless times I could barely get from point A to point B because I was too busy marveling. I also had the opportunity to exercise my ol' time map skills given that my phone's GPS was frequently without signal.

Camp at Big Springs campsite

Thanks to Ranger Hannah and Kathy Stephenson at Susquehannock State Forest I got the inside scoop on this lovely campsite just off Lebo Road. I drove for miles down a winding, well graded, gravel, although very narrow and leaf blanketed road between a shimmering creek and dense woods, hoping all the way that my li'l sedan could handle it. Here I was able to set up camp and stage myself perfectly to finish up some miles on the Susquehannock Trail System (STS). We hiked the little-traveled Wildcat Trail which carried us beneath a broad leafy canopy to the STS. There we strode past the former pile up of blowdowns - each one now cut and cleared from the path - through grassy, fern-filled woods, through a deer exclosure, and onto forest road that soon connected us with the 94-mile Donut Hole Trail that runs concurrently for a portion with the STS and which we followed into Morgan Hollow.  

An enormous tree that graced our path on the Wildcat Trail

Last I saw this portion of the Susquehannock Trail it looked like a giant had dropped a box of pick-up sticks across it

The next day the Hammersly Wild Area beckoned. I had explored this area a couple of years back on the STS, and ever since had peered longingly at the broad expanse of green on the map that stretched beyond where I had been. The Hammersly Wild Area encompasses over 30,000 acres and is the largest area in Pennsylvania without a road. It is also one of the largest Wild Areas in the state, second only to the Quehanna Wild Area. Given its remoteness, my map warned those who explored to be adept in map and compass skills. Its call was strong. It was not easy to decide from which trailhead to start given that only the only way to these was also via miles and miles of winding forest roads. For the sake of my sedan and my nerves, I chose a trailhead close to the town of Cross Fork. There I could also dip into the Forest H. Dutlinger Area, which includes a 160-acre old growth forest.

Fording Hammersly Fork

It's a good thing that I stopped in the Susquehannock State Forest District Maintenance Office in Cross Fork to ask directions and to chat with a member of the staff who just so happened to know this trail well. For if I hadn't, I never would have believed I was indeed on trail. One map showed an unnamed trail leading to the blazed Beech Bottom Trail, another showed none at all. However, this man assured me that a trail did indeed exist, and he had walked it. There had even been a dedication ceremony performed there when a plaque had been placed for the Natural Area. Very well. I drove down a rutted residential road and parked in a small lot. There I walked about a tenth of mile at most and found that the trail simply went into the creek and appeared to pick up on the other side. It was a cool day, but I rolled up my pants and went for it. Amos thought a dip was just fine of course. 

The trail, roughly one mile long to the blazed Beech Bottom Trail

Well, we would end up crossing that creek several more times while also passing the most intriguing, yet rather ominous looking, hunt camps. At some point we passed a chimney standing along the trail and I wondered at a set of tracks in the mud. Could they be elk?

One of the intriguing although rather uninviting hunt camps along the path

A chimney along the trail

Elk track perhaps?

When we were faced to ford the creek for a fourth time, I almost turned back, I couldn't believe that this was the way to a designated trail. But Amos insisted we forge ahead. When we reached the other side, low and behold there was a yellow blaze and a sign for the Beech Bottom Trail. We stepped into the forest amidst towering hardwoods. We climbed up, up, up. Blowdowns across the trail forced me to throw my body over top and Amos to crawl on his belly. The trail narrowed with stinging nettle, moss, and asters and I wondered if we'd be able to spy it to come back the way we came. The higher we climbed the more eastern hemlock appeared until soon we were surrounded. Towering hemlock stood as far as the eye could see, both up and down the ravine. Among these tall slender trees were the most enormous I'd ever seen, some three and four feet in diameter. They were healthy. But not without some help. These trees are treated to fight the invasive woolly adelgid that is broadly decimating these trees. 

F.H. Dutlinger Natural Area, home to old growth eastern hemlocks (Tsuga canadensis)

Healthy eastern hemlock needles. Notice the two vertical white stripes on the undersides of these needles? This is a helpful identifier for eastern hemlock. These bands are called stomata. All leaves have them although they are not usually so visible. They play a role in gas and moisture balance.

Once at the top of the ravine, I spied the largest hemlocks yet and I walked a dark plateau where little light pierced the canopy. Yet moss covered logs and rocks glowed like beacons guiding the way. Still, I wondered if we'd ever find our way back. We hiked for some time, eventually hopping on what I believe to have been the Trout Ridge Trail, which carried us through deciduous woods filled with black and yellow birch, beech, witch hazel, and big tooth aspen. It lightly rained and the wind blew strong enough that my fingers grew numb. Still, Amos powered on. When I'd seen we'd traveled over four miles, I realized we had better turn round. We found our way back to the hemlock forest and lunched at a trail intersection. The silence in this old growth hemlock forest was deafening. The wind had ceased. Not an insect buzzed nor chipmunk scurried. When suddenly the call of a barred owl echoed from just behind us. Then the resonant whoosh of large flapping winds. I spied the owl take flight through the slim tree trunks effortlessly and just like that, he was gone. This place had presence. We may have been visibly alone, save for the owl, however we were very much in company. I had the strong sense that these trees were as much aware of us as we were of them.

A fine mossy lunch spot, accompanied by an owl and eastern hemlocks

 

It was time to hasten our steps. Afterall, we had a creek to ford four more times. We found our way back with little effort and paused at a stunning waterfall we'd overlooked when we first entered the woods. Here stood a great big boulder laced with hollows and topped with a hemlock whose trunk poured around the stony surface like water. Moss and polypody ferns snuggled up to its base. Oddly, a single nail protruded from one of the hemlocks roots. Surely, we had not been the only humans to pause here.

Boulder with hollows to store secrets and magical forest trinkets

The lone nail

Roadside campsites and countless trailheads continued to abound throughout my journey, and I did my best to mark them down as they spoke to me. It is truly amazing the state forests we have here in Pennsylvania, their size, the freedom to explore at little to no expense. The independence to camp where you wish, roadside camping, and feeling of wild immersion remind me of some national forests that I have explored. I have always appreciated our local state forest in Northeastern PA, Delaware State Forest, however it is fractioned into parcels which are smaller than those I have been exploring these past few weeks. Pennsylvania truly does still encompass the wild. And for that I am grateful.