It's been so long since I've been back in my North Country home! But I was asked to contribute a chapter to a dry, arcane professional book, and so I went up to a cabin in Cook Forest to write. Sad choice. I was so distracted by the beauty of the forest that I barely got the job done. I'm pretty sure the editor is going to say, "Um, thanks, but we've found something that better suits our purposes..." I spent far more time hiking than writing.
This is the valley of the magical, mystical Clarion River. Memory served me well: I followed the dirt road that runs alongside Millstone Creek from the Allegheny National Forest to the place where the creek meets the river. This is a lovely part of the world. Being back here after all these years was like falling into the arms of an old, old friend.
In Clear Creek State Park, Tadler Trail runs along the Clarion, then turns a corner and travels for a while along one of its tributaries, Tadler Run. It climbs back up the backside of the hill and then offers views of the river valley from above. It's one of the nicest hikes around, and I had the place all to myself in February.
I was just so happy to be back, even though I didn't revisit a lot of my old haunts. At one point, we said that I was going to do an annual winter pilgrimage back to the ANF, and we did it a few times but not since 2013. Ah, it's just so beautiful, and so empty, and so wild. What I wouldn't give for just a little one-room cabin somewhere in this valley, just a quiet place to live out whatever years I've got, "content to let the world go by, to know no gain, no loss." I miss this place so bad I feel hot tears building up behind my eyes. Why do we have to live apart from the places we love? Why do we choose lives anyplace other than where we want to be?
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