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.