This ancient electric line easement forms the boundary of a "wilderness." I'm still a little haunted by my recent overnight trek in the Hickory Creek Wilderness. See the post below. I did a quick 3 miles in just before sunset on Friday and then did the remaining 12 miles (which includes a long connector trail) the following day with a 40 pound pack. I originally expected to stay 2 nights, but the forest gods did not will it. It's a pretty place, if a little unspectacular. There are no grand vistas or raging waterfalls or 400 year old trees. But it is consistently scenic and mostly very quiet. The more I think about it, the more I want to go back there and venture into the trackless parts again, like I did in 2017. Except this time I want to hit the southernmost edges, avoiding the "tornado swath" of blowdowns that is shown on some maps.
This is what I do: I fixate on a place, visit the hell out of it, then forget about it for a few years. At one time it was the Allegheny National Forest. At another time it was the Standing Stone Trail. At yet another time it was Dolly Sods, in West Virginia--except I had a little crush on the whole entire state, too...so beautiful. Now I'm all infatuated with Hickory Creek. I find consistent but understated beauty to be very soothing. For example, I'm probably the only person in the world whose favorite composer is Telemann. Do his tunes get stuck in my head as do tunes by Bach and Billy Joel? Well, no. His music is less memorable, but that's part of what I like about it. His tunes are easily forgotten, but they always lift my mood. I find them magically restorative in a way that flashier music cannot be. Music that calls too much attention to itself is somehow less soothing.
That could be part of the appeal of Hickory Creek. I mean, look at this hemlock. So elegant, so majestic, so completely unknown. I can have it entirely to myself. No one else is vying for its attention. Its glamor doesn't wear me out because glamor isn't its thing. Is it a sequoia? No, just an eastern hemlock. But a sequoia would demand a whole different set of emotions. It would inspire wonder, amazement, awe. Those are not always the things I'm looking for in the forest--though I'm always open to them. Often I want the forest to visit me with a deeper peace than I can find elsewhere, and I think Hickory Creek has the potential to do that for me in a big way. I guess it depends on what you want from your experience in the woods. If you're looking for grandeur, go hike the Standing Stone. If you're looking for quiet beauty, solitude, and silence...this is a good spot.
There is a citizens' group called "Friends of Allegheny Wilderness" that is lobbying to expand the wilderness designation in other areas of the ANF, including an expansion of Hickory Creek. I'm sure their efforts are being opposed by the frackers, and the drillers, and the lumber industry. Hickory Creek is only 20 miles square, but it's big enough to get good-and-lost in. (I've done it!) The only other area of the state that is officially designated "wilderness" is a gaggle of small islands in the Allegheny River, which are visible from roadways and towns and hardly seem worthy of the designation. Can it be "wilderness" if you can hear semis screaming past? When I think of wilderness, I think of the vast, empty spaces of Alaska and Nevada.
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