Standing Stone Trail: An Ongoing Obsession

Just for the record, I got absolutely saturated on Jacks Mountain, where I did a straight uphill ascent, first on the barely passable Jacks Mountain Road in my car, and the rest of the way on foot.  The view from the top is worth the effort, but an effort it is!  The Standing Stone Trail runs north and south on an old dirt roadway at the ridgetop road.  At the place where it leaves the road and plunges into the woods, there's a sign (previous post) that says "Throne Room: 1.2 kilometers."  You say to yourself, "Oh, less than a mile!  No problem!"  But it's one of the longest miles I've ever hiked, straight uphill the whole way.

And if you're queasy about heights--as I tend to be--then the road up to the ridge can be a little daunting, too.  There are no railings, and the drop-off is menacing.  But there are good views along the roadway, like this one.  The boulder fields on the mountains in this area are completely natural.

Here's another view from the drive up the mountainside, looking in a generally northerly and westerly direction, I think.

Near the place where Jacks Mountain Road meets the Standing Stone Trail, this tree blocked my way.  There was another tree blocking the road a little lower down on the mountainside, but I was able to move it out of the way.  This one wouldn't budge.  So I parked the car and walked the rest of the way up.  (Yes, I drive a Kia Soul, and I know it's a college girl's car.  But mine is a stick shift, and I love it.)

This cabin sits unexpectedly near the top.  I didn't like it.  It looked to me like the kind of place where unleashed dogs come rushing at passersby.  But happily on this day no dogs, no people.

Did I happen to mention the fact that I got sopping wet up there?  Thick gray clouds rolled in swiftly and almost close enough to hit with a stone.  Despite my rain gear (including waterproof pants) I nearly to get flushed down the mountain like the Itsy-Bitsy Spider.  On the wet and slippery hike back down, I cut a live beech sapling to use as a walking stick.  I was careful to choose one that was getting starved out by its neighbors--not a tree that had a chance at survival.  But I noticed that the bark of the little tree smelled like wintergreen.  Turns out, it was a black birch, not a beech.  I stripped off all the bark when I got home and brewed it into a delicious tea.

The Standing Stone Trail maps indicate a scenic overlook a little north of the area where I did most of my hiking.  And so, though I was already pressed for time, I did a rapid sprint in that direction.  The trail northward at this spot is a little grim, passing through uninviting woods with "posted" signs and dense undergrowth.  Worse, it runs on a narrow dirt road that appears to be open to vehicles.  About a mile from the intersection with Jacks Mountain Road, there's a broad, steep pipeline easement that runs steeply up the side of the mountain to the right.  Follow the cleared swath up to be rewarded with this view to the east.  Look at the little farm valleys in the furthest distance.  I wish the day had been clear enough to get the full view, but the clouds really added something.  

Standing Stone Trail: My New Obsession

 It's been a long, long time since my last post. Sorry about that, faithful reader. Life of late hasn't lent itself to the freedoms I enjoyed in earlier times.  Work, family obligations, time constraints.  But I did manage to get a few hours of hiking done on the Standing Stone Trail in Central Pennsylvania.  This is the view from an area along the trail called "The Throne Room."  In the distance you can see several long ridgelines in the "Ridge and Valley Province" of the state.  In order of proximity, you see: Blacklog Mountain, the ominously named Shade Mountain, and Tuscarora Mountain in the furthest, mistiest distance.

 I've become obsessed with the Standing Stone Trail--see my last post.  And so, on June 24, a day of glowering skies and torrential downpours, I drove three hours to the center of the state to explore some of the trail's visual highlights.  On a clear day, the view would have been far better, but you have to make do with the day you're given.

 Planning a long-distance trek is almost as much fun as actually doing one.  In some cases, it's even more fun because you get to do it from the comfort of your laptop, without a thirty pound pack on your back and hundreds of yards of sharp rocks to scramble across.  And so, I've been planning a "through hike" on this trail ever since March.  But didn't make it back out here to check some things out until June.  I went to a hamlet called Barneytown and followed Jacks Mountain Road almost to a place where it joined the trail.  However, recent rainstorms had downed some trees across the road, and one of them I was unable to move.  So I parked at the blocked spot in the road and walked the rest of the way to the summit and the trail.

 This boulder field is known as The Hall of the Mountain King.  Aside from evoking vaguely familiar tunes from interminable Wagnerian operas, the area is hell on the ankles and knees.  It would be even harder to cross on a hot day with snakes on the rocks.  The Standing Stone runs 84 miles from Cowan's Gap State Park to Greenwood Furnace State Park, following the narrow summits of the several mountains wherever possible.  It does descend briefly into the little trail towns of Three Springs and Mapleton.  There's some roadside hiking involved, and legal camping is relatively rare along the way--not to mention waters sources.   

In other words, it's like a mini-Appalachian Trail.  Or maybe an alternative to the AT for people who don't like crowds and who don't actually want to quit their jobs in order to hike full time.  I think I could do the whole thing in 8 to 10 days.  Photos don't do it justice.  In any case, the Standing Stone Trail is part of the Great Eastern Trail--a lesser traveled and more scenic alternative to the AT.