My Walk to the New York Border

 

Starting the climb up to the east rim of PA's Grand Canyon - notice signage that reads N.Y. State Line 118 kilometers

This last week on the Mid State Trail was one of great highs and lows. I walked filled with anticipation to reach my goal, yet my excitement felt bittersweet knowing that one day soon I would awake and have no more miles to count. The first couple of days I missed my pack - it was strange to make coffee only for myself in the morning and to pound out the miles without anyone about me to share the scenery. But Amos and I dove deep and summoned our strength despite the sometimes unbearably high temps and reveled in one last week surrounded by only dainty wildflowers underfoot and the leafy canopy overhead. For we knew, all too soon, this experience would be only a memory to hold dear.

Ramsey Run

While Scott and my father hoofed it a pleasant easy mile to a parking area on the Pine Creek Rail Trail, Amos and I took off for an eight mile slackpack, headed for a pull-off where I would meet with the men again and my mother who was both picking them up and bringing a mighty heavy six days worth of resupply for Amos and me. Considering the men carried my gear as well as their own for their last mile, perhaps it wasn't so easy after all! Amos and I trekked on, feeling light as could be, better able to appreciate the trail's splendid plant inhabitants. Ramsey Run was particularly impressive. Its rocky cove was blanketed in Canada violet, wood nettle, and Virginia waterleaf - some of my most favorite plants. These plants are edible and medicinal and also just a treasure to stumble upon, to me representative (amongst others) of Appalachian cove plants. 

Canada violet (Viola canadensis) - a somewhat unusual violet by the fact that it bears stem leaves. Most violets have only basal leaves (those that arise from the ground). Leaves and flowers are edible. Flowers sometimes have a minty flavor. Leaves are anti-inflammatory.

Virginia waterleaf (Hydrophyllum virginianum) in flower. Leaves make a tasty green in pasta and rice dishes, and is an easy one to add to camp meals.

Two mountains and numerous creek crossings later, Amos and I arrived at Dam Run Road, where we were greeted warmly by the pack and then much packing ensued. The crew would also drive a package to Hills Creek State Park, which I hoped to pick up on Saturday. While organizing gear and catching up with my mother, I charged my phone in her car...and ran the car battery dead. AAA would do us no good out here considering we had no service. Thank goodness a DCNR ranger happened to cruise by within minutes, provided a jump equally quick, and all was well again. Thank you DCNR ranger! And thank you Trail Gods. The trail does have a way of providing, in fact so much that, I was aware when this happened how completely certain I was that we would be helped. It is not always easy to have so much faith off the trail. And thank you to my Love and my parents. I should mention too, and it is MUCH deserved, that during this thru-hike, I had two forest bathing sessions I had to return home to lead and this could not have been accomplished without multiple shuttles to and from the trail. They also put up with much rushing about while I resupplied in this time I was home. This hike has been far from solo and I am so grateful for the help with which I have been graced. 

The Pack - Wise Man, House the Cat, Bot, Mama, and Amos

Their very full car pulled away, leaving Amos and I in the dust and gnats. Part of me, and I believe Amos too, wanted to go running after them. But instead we hoisted our packs, crossed Dam Run and headed onward to our camp. We comforted ourselves with homemade cookies and were soon to bed. The next day our spirits Happy Acres Campground lifted our spirits, where I was pleased to find a hot shower and outlets for charging up, as well as clean running water from a tap. Folks were friendly here and as I passed the camp store, which was closed at the early morning hour, a nice gentleman, Ken, who was visiting the area with his wife to do some biking on the rail trail, gifted me with a Pepsi. That little can of caffeine and sugar was much appreciated after I summited Huntley Mountain. This was a nine hundred foot climb and a steep one at that and Amos and I were feeling the oncoming heat of the day. Near the top we wove through otherworldly stone sculptures and admired their gardens that hosted wild columbine, polypody fern, and rock tripe.

Stone sculptures on Huntley Mountain

Wild columbine garden atop sandstone

Wild columbine (Aquilegia canadensis)

Polypody fern (Polypodium virginianum ) and rock tripe lichen (Umbilicaria)

The days were hot - did I mention that - all week long the temperatures hovered just below ninety degrees. It was hard to believe that just a week earlier, I had worn gloves and a hat and thermals and we had struggled to get our hands warm in the morning while drinking our coffee. Now, Amos panted and I poured sweat. So we were grateful for the many creek crossings over the next couple of days, and really throughout the week, and also for a couple of sweet hunt camps that allowed a hiker to rest in the shade and gather water from a spigot or nearby stream. 

Amos appreciating a rest beside a hunting cabin along the trail. 

Amos spent a lot of time doing this over the last week

But sometimes going just a few miles between water sources was too far. Just after leaving the hunting cabin you see above, we started up an incline and then hit grassy management roads. These were brutal. They seemed lovely at the start - picturesque, well-graded, and oh-so-green - but in the heat of the day and high humidity, they were a slog. Amos made the decision to plunk down in the shade of a tree along the roadside and there we sat for a good while, both of us wilting and half dozing. He drank the entire liter of water that I had packed for him down at the cabin. I wondered if we'd even resume hiking before dusk when the temps were cooler. But when I saw he'd finally stopped panting, I relieved him of his pack, strapping it onto mine, and we hustled to the next creek for a dunk. And what a glorious creek it was! 

Trout Run

Amos rushed for the water, pulling me along with him and while he took a wade, I drenched my bandana and splashed water on my face. He then retired to the streambank amidst tall fern fronds still coiled and I took my leisurely time admiring the wood nettle and foamflower at my feet and the tall sycamore overhead. Then I stumbled upon a most special find nestled amidst dry leaves and round stream stones - a single morel mushroom. Morels are among the easier mushrooms to identify - look for a conical cap with a honeycomb appearance. Slice a suspected morel lengthwise to ascertain that it is completely hollow inside. There are still look-alikes, and a mistake could be deadly, so please do not use my simple description alone when harvesting morels. These mushrooms are among my favorites of the flavorful fungi and are delicious when sauteed and added to pasta or a stir fry. However, I saw none others, so I let this one be to set its spores free.

Morel (Morchella)

Given the high temperatures and the long miles I had planned, the next day, we arose before sunrise and hit the trail in the cool morning temps. We trekked up to Gillepsie Point for one of the most amazing views yet on the trail. Here we could see down into the the valley of Blackwell with views of Pine Creek and Babb Creek. We passed swaths of mayapple as we neared the top, now with flowers nodding beneath their large umbrella-like leaves. Mayapple produces - in June - an edible fruit when ripe. However, if you sample these tasty woodland bites, be mindful, only the ripe fruit (skin will be yellow and wrinkled) is edible and the seed and skins must be discarded as these are toxic.

 

View from Gillepsie Point

Mayapple flower (Podophyllum peltatum) 

Then it was down, down, down, to Blackwell, where we crossed Babb Creek on a rusty bridge and I inspected the water levels, that looked deep enough to go swimming. I had communicated with Peter Fleszar a couple of days previous about a notorious ford at Stoney Creek. I had been concerned given our heavy rain roughly a week previous and our rushing creeks, that this might be too high to cross. However, when he informed me of the lengthy detour of 20 kilometers by country road, I'd decided it was worth taking our chances. He assured me that likely it would be fine and that water levels had only been dropping. Babb Creek, the guidebook instructed, would be an indicator. Peter had also tuned me into Twin Streams Campground as a nice place to stay with wifi, which I needed for a panel presentation with the Finger Lakes Trail Conference via zoom later that evening - hence our projected long miles. However, given Babb's depths, I wasn't feeling too confident. We stopped in at the one business in Blackwell, Miller's Store and met Ruth Ann, who owns the sweet store with her husband. 

Miller's Store

Ruth Ann was a pleasure and I wished we could only stay longer. She rents an apartment below the store, the back porch of which I could see from upper deck, that overlooks an expansive landscaped yard that stretches to the creek. A stay would be lovely...but with the end so near, there would be no near zero days if we could help it. Still, we were running a bit behind schedule, therefore our supplies, specifically dog food, would run out before we reached our package at the end of the week. Ruth Ann packaged up some dog food from her own supply for her German shepherd and I procured some instant dinners and snacks from her shop. That and a frosty lemon San Pelligrino. Thank you, Ruth Ann!

Johnson Cliff on the east rim of PA's Grand Canyon

 We hoofed it down the Pine Creek Rail Trail just a short distance and up the steep stairway you spied at the beginning of this post, then just continued up and up and up, the trail intensely steep. However, at the top, now higher than Gillepsie Point, we were rewarded with a view from Johnson Cliff. We collapsed, sweated it out, and then took off for a pleasant mostly level walk through the woods atop the rim. Eventually, we did descend into eastern hemlock woods that bordered the mighty Stony Fork. Here the creek flowed like a river through steep smooth stone walls, cascaded in falls, and the water changed from a light to deep blue-green at its greatest depths. Amos led the way, full of spunk and vigor, while I wondered if we might just be doubling back. Starflower graced our path as did mayflower and yet another pale lady's slipper.

Amos digging the eastern hemlock woods and a view of Stoney Fork, and wondering why Mama looks so concerned.

Starflower (Lysimachia borealis)

Canada mayflower (Maianthemum canadense) with flower buds just about to bloom

Much to my relief, after we had traveled downstream for quite sometime, when we reached our ford it was no longer crashing cascades, but rather a calm expanse. However, we took it slow and Amos still considering turning back halfway across when the water reached up to his chest and past his pits, but I ushered us on and in no time we were on the other side. He gave a good shake - those that hound dogs are especially good at - and I changed out of my crocs and back into my sneakers. We were now cooled down and ready to climb Tannery Hill, our last mountain of the day, before descending into Twin Streams Campgrounds at Slide Hollow.

Ford over Stoney Creek 

Climbing Tannery Hill

Tannery Hill was a dream, an easy ascent compared to the other climbs of the day and blanketed in Canada violet, wild ginger, wood nettle, Virginia waterleaf, and maidenhair fern. We would complete fifteen miles on this day, hiking for nearly twelve hours, arriving at the campground at 6:00, and Amos rocked it. I immensely enjoyed speaking on a panel with two other Finger Lakes Trail End-to-Enders, Marnie Phillips and Scott Geiger, about our individual experiences hiking the Finger Lakes Trail. The audience asked great questions and what fun it was to hear Marnie's and Scott's stories. Marnie thru-hiked with her dog and hearing about her many challenges validated my struggles. And never before had I zoomed from a tent! Thank you to the Finger Lakes Trail Conference for your flexibility with my hiking, to Christy Post for hosting, to the FLT community for your enthusiasm, and to Peter Fleszar for making my tuning in possible! Without your guidance, Peter, I may not have attempted that ford and I certainly wouldn't have known of or made it to Twin Streams Campground. The campground, too, was lovely, complete with hot showers and a camp store. Thank you Twin Streams.

What I can only assume was waste rock from the old mining operation in these hills 

But a move I made at that camp store was my first mistake the next day. We headed out of the town of Morris and back up the mountainside to the Mid State Trail, me with an ice cream sandwich I'd purchased from the store in hand. As soon as we started up the mountain, Amos wanted to turn back. The day was already growing warm, but not terrible, not yet. It took us two hours to get back on trail that morning. Amos simply laid down and refused to move and when I did get him moving he wanted to go back to the campground. I decided he'd wanted an ice cream too and me, the selfish hiker, hadn't even given it a thought. We almost did turn 'round and end up back at Twin Streams, but I bargained with him and told him the next time ice cream was available, he'd get some. We carried on that day through mine operation ruins and past contaminated water due to the old mines. Some creeks ran yellow and chalky, and others, had I not known better thanks to the guidebook and Guthook, I would have deemed safe.

Contaminated water that has passed through a mine drainage treatment system, reportedly this is aluminum hydroxide precipitate.

The temps climbed to ninety-one degrees. It was hard day on both of us and so we took it slow, managing a meager six miles by the time we reached the town of Antrim. But here, we found fresh water at Duncan Tavern and perhaps better than ice cream, a hamburger patty for Amos. He devoured it eagerly and we enjoyed a camp courtesy of a kind landowner, whom we never did meet. We were so very grateful for this campsite in town.

The Duncan Tavern - friendly staff and patrons - and a great place to fill up on water and order some grub

Campsite at the end of a grassy lane courtesy of a private landowner in Antrim, NY.

Heading out of Antrim, Amos was hard to get moving again. It was clear this guy was in need of a zero and so was I, but we had just a handful more days on the trail. Once in the woods, his spirits were bolstered and mine too, as we crossed numerous picturesque creeks, complete with waterfalls, walked pleasant railroad grade through the woods and passed the fragrant lemony-thyme shoots of bee balm, flowering bluebead lily, and the leafy clusters of blue cohosh. 

Rattlesnake Run - a somewhat sketchy ford with a pooch given the slippery rocks - but a beautiful creek through a hemlock glen.

Bluebead lily (Clintonia borealis) - the leaves are edible when young and cooked, but I choose to leave this precious plant be rather than consume.

Not long before reaching camp on this day, we stumbled upon the very first ramps I have seen on the whole hike. What a treat! On the Finger Lakes Trail, ramps sometimes carpeted the trail, but here on the Mid State Trail, if they were present they were hidden deep in the coves well away from the footpath. I pinched just a few leaves for dinner later than evening, leaving the bulbs in tact underground. Ramps - aka wild leeks - are certainly a food that has been overharvested due to their unique and enticing flavor. However, when harvested properly, in legal areas, from abundant communities, they are fine for the picking. Please harvest just a leaf from each plant you choose, leaving the bulb and other leaves intact, so that the plant may continue to thrive. And so on our last night in the woods, for Scott would be coming soon with the camper, we enjoyed a streamside camp, complete with wood nettles - another perfect hiker green- and a luxurious dinner.

Camp at Dyke Creek - our last night in the tent

Wood nettle and ramps (Laportea canadensis and Allium tricoccum), it's what's for dinner! Perfect paired with a Knorr Pasta Side and some dehydrated milk.

And so began our last few days on the trail - a patchwork of private woods and retired farmland, interspersed here and there with state park and Army Corps lands, and country roads. The farmland near Miller Hill Road afforded beautiful views but was absolutely maddening with waist-high grass for much its traverse, thorns, prickers, and ankle-twisting ruts and lumps. Amos must have thought himself in a jungle from his perspective. 

Amos walking trail near Wimbrough Campsite

However, the property surrounding Wimbrough Campsite was a walk in the park and we enjoyed winding beside a slim creek under the arching boughs of willow and honeysuckle. Here and there country roads here offered a welcome reprieve, a break from navigating some of the less than favorable farmland. By 5:00, and a full day later than planned, Amos and I arrived at Hills Creek State Park, just in time to pick up our package that had been delivered there a week previous. State Park employee, Dina, greeted me warmly - thank you Dina for holding this package! And two hours later, much to our anticipation, my love, Wise Man, had arrived! Towing our little pop-up A-frame trailer. Amos lost his *@#! when he caught sight of his beloved truck.

Amos and me slackpacking - look at those smiles!

And so for two sweet days, thanks to my sweetheart, Scott, we slackpacked and enjoyed a luxurious campsite at Hills Creek State Park. The campground was quiet and well equipped with hot showers, plug-ins and running water. Amos finally got his zero, too, taking a day with Scott lounging about and visiting Wellsboro, resting up for his summit day. The walk around the lake at Hills Creek was beautiful, beneath the boughs of eastern hemlock and Norway Spruce, and as I passed into a maple forest, blue cohosh blanketed the understory. Blue cohosh made a remarkable appearance over the last few days in general on the trail, but it was here that it really shone. The root of this plant has traditionally been used in a wide spectrum of applications, but primarily it has been considered a woman's herb.

Blue cohosh (Caulophyllum thalictroides)

And it was on this same day, just some miles from Hills Creek State Park that I made my first friend on the Mid State Trail. I crossed paths with a woman out for a section hike with her dog. I learned her name was Dana, roughly the same age as myself, and her dog was Casper (Cassie for short) who has joined her on many a hike. We just happened to be going the same direction and so we hiked for five miles together before parting ways at Ives Run Campground where she'd left her car. We talked for hours and the ease I felt with her made me feel as if we'd been friends for years. She was such a joy to share trail with and she made the miles roll by effortlessly. It turned out, too, that she was camped at Hills Creek and so later that evening she joined Scott and I for some pleasant conversation at our campsite. We exchanged contact information and we plan to do some hiking in our neck of the woods in the future as she lives in nearby Warren County, New Jersey. You just never know who you might cross paths with while hiking, even on the lesser traveled Mid State Trail. Thank you, Dana and Cassie for your company.

View near Ives Run Campground - crossing Crooked Creek on a road bridge at head of Hammond Lake 

 Scott and I feasted on veggie burgers and tots procured from town on the eve of our finish of the trail and enjoyed gin cocktails, followed by tiramisu Ben and Jerry's ice cream. It was hard to believe that the trail's end was so very near and I was so thankful to be spending such a special time with the man I'd missed so much. Amos blissfully sprawled out on the queen-sized bed and looked at me with eyes that said, "You've been holding out on me, Ma."

Walking the Mid State Trail around Conwanesque Lake

This brings me to my last fifteen miles on the trail. The morning started out a little rough, getting turned around in woods on private property, feeling thankful for the GPS on my Guthook app to lead the way and also thankful that I had no pack as I pushed through brush and ducked under fencing. But as Amos and I made our way to Cowanesque Lake, we enjoyed mowed paths between fragrant honeysuckle shrubs and then lunched at the (closed) concession stand, which the trail oh-so-wisely passes right through. But it was venturing around the lake on the Moccasin Trail that was by far the sweetest part of the day and a blissful way to reach trail's end. The trail takes its time here, leading the hiker around the western half of Lake Cowanesque and down along the Cowanesque River for a short ways, on crumbling roadway now being reclaimed by plant life, old railbed, and grassy forest path. 

Teasel stalks (Dipsacus fullonum) - the root of teasel has been used medicinally in reducing the symptoms of lyme disease

Dame's rocket (Hesperis matronalis) - leaves taste of arugula and flowers made an edible decorative accent to any dish

The dried stalks of teasel shown stark and wiry, dark brown against the white hot sun reflecting off the nearby lake and samaras hung heavy from the wide-spreading branches of the box elder maple trees that made an archway for us to walk beneath. Dame's rocket - an edible mustard with a flavor similar to arugula - held its fuchsia and white blooms high above the tall grass and the dainty blossoms of cow parsley speckled our corridor like confetti. These wildflowers are invasive and non-native, known to inhabit those places on the edges of civilization, but they sure are beautiful in their profusion. I felt as if we walked a forested runway, our path aided by numerous wooden bridges made just for the walker and benches placed kindly beneath the shade of large leafy trees. This stretch was truly a gift. Just as we reached its end at Tompkins Campground and we made our way towards our last stretch of roadwalk that would guide us to trail's end, three kits (young fox) tumbled in the grass playfully and ran across our path. What a sight! Amos lunged this way and that, but I stayed on my feet and the kits found cover.

At the northern terminus of the Mid State Trail

Amos and I walked our last two miles doing our best to soak up every stirring breeze, whiff of honeysuckle, and chirp of birdsong, imprinting the trail upon our hearts and in our minds. As least I did. He went for a dunk in Mapes Creek, just as Scott went barreling by with the truck and trailer, never even catching sight of us. Amos also thought he'd take a rest in a dusty roadside ditch about a half mile before the end. Good thing, Scott, who'd parked at the northern terminus, had decided to walk down to join us for the last stretch. As soon as Amos, caught sight of him, their was again pep in his step. And so, the three of us walked the last easy meters, uphill on a country road, the green hills in the distance, to the humble State Line road sign marking the end of the Mid State Trail. A handmade trail sign here also reads: Mid State Trail 526 km. I remembered well reaching this sign roughly six years previous on the Finger Lakes Trail while hiking the Crystal Hills Branch and wondering if I might hike the Mid State Trail one day. Now, here I was, but no longer solo, my dog and my man by my side. 

Amos and Bot - Mid State Trail complete!

Two happy hikers

No trail is complete without a proper summit outfit!

And most importantly, as promised... Amos did get his ice cream! 

Amos and his much deserved ice cream - Frosty Paws made just for dogs!

Thank you to all of my readers for following along on our journey. Knowing that I am sharing my hikes with others that appreciate them as much as I do, truly makes the experience greater. I appreciate all the support y'all offer up! Now, is the time to let all the magic of this trail seep in, simmer, and see what comes next. Much love and gratitude - Bot.

 

The Joy of Hiking with the Pack

 

(left to right) Amos, Bot, House the Cat, John, and Wise Man 

What a week we had, this foursome, hiking Penn’s woods and just soaking it up. John, my brother in law, delivered us to the trailhead at Kalbfleish Road and then drove a resupply package to Woolrich for us– THANK YOU, JOHN – and off we hiked under sunny skies and moderate temps, the very best weather I’d had in over a week. We hiked just a short distance and I was already thrilled for the men to experience a taste of what I had been jabbering on about. "Look! See these rocks, it’s been like this but more and for longer stretches," I said as we gingerly crossed a heap. "And, babe, this forest of mountain laurel and gnarly oaks – it’s kind of been like this for days now," I said to Scott as he surveyed our surroundings. We stopped for a break at the trail register and here there were two delights.

A very pale and fuzzy lady's slipper 

Firstly, Scott spied what we first believed to be small white lady’s slipper (Cypripedium candidum), a rare and vulnerable orchid, native to the northeastern U.S. and southern Canada. However, after analyzing some photos and traits of small white lady's slipper, I believe this may now just be a very pale pink lady's slipper (Cypripedium acaule). Can anyone other plant folk chime in here? There were several showing off their blooms, all with leaves and stems covered in a dense fuzz. Beside these were several more shoots yet to unfurl. No matter the species, these orchids are always a surprise and it was the first I had spotted on the hike thus far. We would go onto find more pink lady slippers as our week progressed.

Amos enjoying having House the Cat and the rest of the pack on the trail

Secondly, as we settled in for our first snack and Amos settled in too, placing his paw on my dad’s leg, it was apparent that Amos thought this was pretty cool. The whole pack. In the past week, rarely would Amos actually take a break with me, preferring instead to stand at the end of his leash or tie-out at attention and ready to hike on. Here, he just laid down amidst his fellow hikers lounging about on the trail. This behavior would continue and at camp, he’d sometimes just retreat to mine and Scott’s tent after eating dinner to sleep until we joined him. There was most certainly a greater calm about him.

Dad and Scott coming down rocky path into Ravensburg State Park - this was an easier portion as you can see leaves underfoot

The men had it easy until the descent into Ravensburg State Park. Here they got a taste of just what the trail has really been like…since the beginning. We took our time, choosing footing carefully, and Amos was remarkably patient, simply waiting until it was time to move on. My father continued to question It’s been like this? Really? This bad? To which I answered Yes. Yes. And worse. But my father rocked it – no pun intended – especially for a man of seventy-five years. My father has hiked many a trail with me - accomplishing hundreds of miles on the AT and miles on the Mountains to Sea Trail and Finger Lakes Trail, but he noted our Pennsylvania trail was particularly rugged. When we arrived at a pristine campground with hot showers, flush toilets, and not a soul around, we all decided we’d may as well spend the night rather than push on. The night ended so chilly and the morning so brisk, we needed two cups of coffee each just to get some heat into our bones and numbed fingers. I was glad that we had all the water we could want from the spigot.

Young leaves of blossoming wild sarsaparilla (Aralia nudicaulis)

The next day’s highlight was simply walking gradually climbing trail sandwiched between my love and my father, Amos cruising along effortlessly with the momentum of the pack. Wild sarsaparilla stood tall along the trail in all stages of growth – immature waxy burgundy leaves, green broad leaves, and those in flower. Although a common woodland plant, it still thrills me every time I’m in its presence and its root has a history of use in our old time root beers, besides offering a warming quality and a digestive aid. Through the air floated fluffy white seeds - similar to those individual parachute-like seeds (achenes) of a dandelion - like snow, and we stirred them underfoot with every step. We peered up to the treetops wondering just what tree was producing them, and all took guesses, but none seemed right. It wasn’t until I was again hiking on my own that I’d realize these were the spent male flowers of birch catkins.

Birch catkins with male flowers now turned to cottony wisps

But the true botanical highlight was spotting American ginseng (Panax quinquifolis) along the Great Island Path. I have seen just one other plant in the wild in all my life. Perhaps this is why wild sarsaparilla always catches my eye. The plants’ leaf arrangement can look somewhat similar to each other and I am always hoping that what looks like sarsaparilla at first, will indeed be ginseng. Sure enough, there sat ginseng - three humble, but powerful plants. American ginseng used to fill our Appalachian woods, however due to overharvest, it is rare to encounter. Please, if you should find ginseng in the wild or go to see this plant for yourself on the Mid State Trail, leave it be and visit with reverence. The root of this plant, alongside Chinese ginseng (Panax ginseng), has been used for generations in tinctures, teas, and powders for well-being.

American ginseng (Panax quinquifolis)

Our third day started off with a good lung-heaving, sweat-dripping climb up Round Top. On the profile map, it pretty much looks like an ominous sharp tooth, to give you an idea. However, I suppose the last mountain of the Tiltrock Province – those crazy spines of rocks and heaps of boulders I’ve been walking from the beginning of this trail – should go out with a bang. As we descended steeply, we looked forward to an easy walk on a gravel trail along the West Branch of the Susquehanna and cruising into the lean-to at the Woolrich Park.

Walking the multi-use trail along the West Branch of the Susquehanna River

                                                                             

Hardly. On this day, our temps rose dramatically and we felt barely a cloud passed overhead. We sweated and cursed, well I did, and Amos was as stressed as myself, in the presence of all this civilization. He pulled this way and that at every walker, smell, and fellow dog and refused to rest despite his profuse panting. 

The Susquehanna River

Wise Man and House the Cat enjoying the lean-to near Woolrich and Amos keeping watch

But it was pretty awesome to walk across the Susquehanna on that big ‘ol bridge and then even more awesome to dine on pizza – delivered by the nearby Pizza House – at the lean-to, and most importantly, to make it in time to the Woolrich store to pick up a resupply package that John had dropped there for us. Thank you to store manager, Jewel, for holding that package and the employees who so graciously greeted us upon arrival, even in our filthy attire, and allowed us to fill up our water bottles in the bathroom.

Hiking out of the town of Woolrich, en route to climbing the Allegheny Front

Together we ascended the great Allegheny Front and took in several views along the way. What a thrill to know that I was finally reaching this part of the journey. It struck me just how far I had come. The woods were sunny and bright, filled with striped maple, fragrant (even if non-native) honeysuckle, tulip poplar and hickory. 

Amos trying to play it cool waiting for a taste of tuna

When the clouds came we rejoiced for a cool reprieve and lunched later that afternoon amidst the mountain laurel on dry compacted moss. Amos apparently really likes tuna packets, evidenced by his focus on my father at every lunch. At least it draws the attention away from my hard cheese, which is now only his second favorite treat.

Wise Man fording Gamble Run

The day ended with a ford of Gamble Run, which none of us had expected. There I was appreciating the wood nettle and plucking a few leaves for dinner, when I looked up and saw Scott peering across the expanse. Amos minded not at all, while we donned our crocs and watched our step. But, that cold water did feel mighty fine on some hot hiker feet!

Wise Man and House the Cat climbing

An intriguing rock formation

On our last full day together, we climbed up to the top of a nameless knob along a trail tufted with hepatica and illuminated by young fronds of Christmas fern, while a creek dropped farther into the rocky ravine below. Near the top, rather intriguing rock formations jutted from the mountain side and we wondered if any of these had ever served as a lookout point. That evening we enjoyed a night at Camp Kline, the retired boyscout camp, and encountered more wildlife – a barred owl, two deer, a very busy porcupine in the night, and a whippoorwill – than we’d had all week. We basked in the pink glow of the looming mountain before us on the other side of Pine Creek, made a fire and shared drink, reveling in a fine week on the trail.

Our last morning together on the trail

My mother came to retrieve the men near the rail trail while I enjoyed a morning of slack packing. She also expertly sorted a number of resupply goods that I had asked her to bring upon picking Scott and my father up. No easy feat. THANK YOU, MOM. Then, I ran down her car battery charging my cellphone. She handled this in stride too and thankfully a kind DCNR ranger just so happened to drive by who also just so happened to have jumper cables. Now that’s trail magic.

House the Cat and Bot

A vista from Ramm Road - check out those undulating mountains - is that what I was walking when I hiked "against the grain?"

Our miles were low, but our spirits were high, and surely I appreciated many more plants than I would have if we’d been hastily making our way down the trail. But above all, I was graced with so much love and every day was so very full. My father made the comment, “One day you won’t even need a home, you’ll just have your backpack!” I chuckled but then I had to stop and think. “Well, that’s what would have happened if I hadn’t met Scott,” I replied. And I am so grateful that I did. I think about our connection a lot out here and my heart smiles. I love hiking, but I love having a partner that supports my hiking, and loves to hike, more. I used to envision my life very much like my father suggested. Just me and my backpack and the woods – what more would I need? But now that I have more, I know all the richness that would be missing from my life – the joy, beauty, laughter, security, companionship. I feel a kinship with the natural world, but without the people that I hold dear, my experience of the outdoors would be muted. Experience is greater when shared.

Reveling in camp company at Ravensburg State Park

Since the guys heading home, I have carried on, just Amos and I, our sights set on that New York border. My next post will detail our final week on the trail. But in the meantime, I would like to say thank you to Ken who gifted me that sweet can of pepsi in the Happy Acres parking lot, Barb who offered kindness and a meal at Twin Streams Campground, and the anonymous person who covered mine and Amos' meal (he got a burger) at the Duncan Tavern.