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.

Wild Adaptation

 

Miller's General Store in Blackwell hosts an Air B&B apartment downstairs - a lovely place to rest up!

We'd hiked 12 miles, just two days in. I checked Amos' paws that evening as I frequently do when we are on a long trek and found an abrasion on his right front paw. We'd cover this distance at home under normal circumstances on our daily runs and treks. I was concerned but not too concerned. He hadn't shown any discomfort. I smeared some ointment on it and hoped it would look better in the morning. 

We'd hiked a rough trail that day, following the North Link Trail, connecting us from the Susquehannock Trail to the Black Forest Trail in Tiadaghton State Forest. The North Link Trail is little traveled, nor meticulously maintained. The signage alone told this story.

Entrance to the North Link Trail - notice the tilted sign half-missing on the lefthand side

Still, this isn't my first rodeo nor Amos'. The trail started out surprisingly lovely, following an old railroad grade. We wound around the edge of a mountain with views of the sky through towering trees as the embankment dropped below us. However, after a few miles, we hit the bramble. And we walked off the map. Thorns ripped at my arms as I led the way, Amos ducked his head behind me. We met four women out for a hike who desperately wanted to know how much farther the bramble would continue. I told them it had just begun, which could only mean I had a long way to go till we were through it. 

Before the bramble, Amos in the lead

When we reached the other side, I was flustered but thought little of it. Then I looked at my arms, streaked with blood, my legs sliced to the thigh. I checked Amos over, he looked fine save for a twig or two in his harness. I sorted out just where we were, and we carried on. The late afternoon was hot and sunny, and I wondered once more at the cold weather gear that weighed in my pack. Next, we traversed a path rutted with deep hardened tracks from horses that had passed through in wetter conditions than todays. My feet slid this way and that, and Amos' did too. Perhaps these conditions contributed to his sore foot? Or perhaps he was already vulnerable given his skin sensitivities we'd been battling since last autumn? On last year's hike, I packed a can of antifungal mousse to resolve an infection. 

Beehive Spring on the North Link Trail

We camped that night not far from Beehive Spring, just a couple miles from the end of the North Link Trail. I pitched our tent on a bed of moss. Coyotes howled in the distance. Amos snored lightly. In the morning, I inspected his foot, it looked better. I decided to keep an eye on it and take a look again at a major road crossing at the start of our miles on the Black Forest Trail. If we had to we could hitch off the trail there.

The Black Forest Trail

Stepping onto the Black Forest Trail was like stepping into a dream. The path was a bed of softy rusty needles. Towering pines and birch saplings lined our path. Great big boulders sat sentinel in the woods. We crossed a quiet creek one, two times, I lost count, on rusted metal bridges. We stopped at the first camp available. I checked Amos' feet. Still good. I sat about and ate lunch while Amos tugged at his tie-out, ready to keep going! So onward we did. Two miles later, we found an equally lovely camp, this one high atop the ridge overlooking mountains painted for autumn. 

View from camp

Camp on the Black Forest Trail

I checked Amos' foot. It looked angry. A short day or not, we would stop. I purposely had carried an ungodly amount of water in case we needed to stop at any moment. That night the foot grew angrier. Amos limped a bit as he wandered from his snoozing spot beneath a tree into the tent. I shot an email to the vet. Of course it was a Sunday. I laid in our tent, gazing at our boy, so thankful to have him with me on this journey and wondering just how this injury had erupted. I had loose plans to meet up with Pete Fleszar, PAW Mega Loop Committee member, just one of his many roles in the hiking community. I've known Pete since back in my Finger Lakes Trail days, and then again when I hiked the Mid State Trail (Pete is Regional Manager of the Tioga Chapter) and we have remained connected throughout the years through our shared appreciation for the trails. I texted him and asked if he might be able to give us a lift from the nearest road. Amos needed a break. He responded instantly, even offering to retrieve us that night. Amos was already tucked in, as was I, and 2.5 miles from the nearest road. We made plans to meet the next day around noon.

The vista from Francis Road, where we awaited our pickup

Pete Fleszar to the rescue! A great big thank you, Pete!!

We sat on the side of gravel Francis Road, admiring what was probably the most epic view we'd seen yet. Amos pulled on his leash, whining to keep hiking. I assured him, he needed a break, even if he didn't think he did. I worried about him and how we'd resolve this sore spot. I wondered just how we might get back to this point on the trail. I wondered if we might have to alter our plans. I wondered how after just three days of hiking, only 18 miles in, we found ourselves here awaiting a lift back to our car. Amos has hiked hundreds of miles on long-distance trails with me. He's hiked the 330-mile Mid State Trail, the 250-mile Tuscarora Trail, 200 miles last fall in these very same PA mountains, Florida's Blackwater Trail, and trail runs and hikes daily with me. But hey, seasoned or not, sometimes you start a trail and you still get a blister on day one. I guess it was Amos' turn. So now, we rest.

Pine Creek in Blackwell, Pa

We lazed about Cross Fork, took a night at a lean-to on the Susquehannock Trail, and decided to still make use of the luxurious accommodations at Miller's General Store's Air B&B (see photo at top of post). If you're hiking through (or biking on the nearby Pine Creek Rail Trail) absolutely book a night at their apartment below the store. It is clean and quaint and funky. I would happily move in here. And even Amos, after some anxiety, decided it was quite fine. There's a covered porch overlooking a large lawn that stretches all the way to Pine Creek. Say hi to Anne and Ruth Anne (Ruth, whom I remembered meeting when I hiked through here on the Mid State Trail) are welcoming as can be and love pups. 

Amos on the Pine Creek Rail Trail (he still insists on short easy walks while we're resting)

And so, it hasn't been all bad taking some time of the trail. And Amos has good timing - it's been raining for days. We've downed some good grub, enjoyed driving these windy mountain roads speckled with cabins and creeks and barns and pastures that climb up hillsides, laid on a ridge watching the treetops dance in the wind and been lulled to sleep by rain hard as nails on a tin roof. I'm not quite sure where our path leads us next. It's up to Amos. But if there's one thing all these years of long-distance hiking have taught me, it's less about powering through and more about adaptation. You can power all you want, but if you do, in the end the mountain will conquer you. Remain wild. Adjust and adapt as all the other creatures do, despite your expertly crafted human plans. Open to the moment, who knows what it may have in store for you. 

Oh, and I must share some images from our first day on the trail, after our long climb up from Ole Bull State Park. Our first night was a spooky one! STAY TUNED to see where our path leads us next.

Spook Hollow on the Susquehannock Trail. Sign reads: Keep to the center of the trail. Stay within sight of companions. Refrain from looking back. DO NOT TRY TO RUN.

Spook Hollow Shelter 

The STS shelters are by far the most lovingly maintained shelters I have ever encountered. Each one is complete with decorative touches, which sometimes includes a battery-operated candle and calendar lawn chairs or picnic table, and often jugs of fresh water

A not-so-spooky vista from the ridge atop Ole Bull