Allegheny River from West Hickory to Tionesta

We spent a few nights over the July 4th holiday up north, at our camp. I knew I'd be in bed too early to catch the fireworks, so instead, I celebrated by spending about 3 hours paddling the Allegheny River. We have a pair of cheap kayaks, which we rarely use.  But being cheap, they're also lightweight and easy to transport--albeit hard to keep on course, once they're in the water.

The put-in place in West Hickory was crowded for the holiday, though I've never seen more than a single car or two parked there before. Canoes, kayaks, big inflatable floaties. Everyone wanted to spend the hot day out on the cool, fragrant water of the river. I put in quickly and broke from the crowd. Then, as I bobbed further and further downstream and the crowd remained close to shore, I wondered what they knew that I did not. Was I headed for a lock? Were there Class VI rapids up ahead?  

At times, I felt that I had the entire watery world to myself. Then I'd round a bend and come face to face with a band of 20 or 30 kayakers, resting on an island--of which there are many. It was always a challenge to know which channel to take past the numerous river-islands. Some were broad and rocky and impassable. Others were fast-moving but passable. Still others were still and deep--which is usually best, though I like the thrill of turbulent water. But when you're in a kayak at level with the water, you can't always see far enough ahead to know which channel is best. 

Traveling at a leisurely pace, it took me about 3 hours to go the 6.5 miles from West Hickory to Tionesta, where I moored beneath the bridge. That means I traveled a little faster than 2 mph. How could that be? (With a 40 pound pack, I typically hike about 2.5 mph.) I did stop a few times, once for about half an hour to eat and rest in the shade. Still, it felt like I was moving a lot faster than that. I'd like to do this stretch of river again on a cloudy, cool weekday with no one else on the water. As I bobbed along the current, I tried to remember an Irish folk song that I heard years ago about traveling down a river, but most of the words escaped me, and I can't find it on Google either. It is funny how the water changes our perceptions, how it refracts light, how it transmits noises from afar, how it confuses our sense of speed and distance.

Beaver Meadows, Allegheny National Forest

This photo was taken on Independence Day weekend, 2025.  I was trying to duplicate a photo that I took for my old blog in October of 2009.  SEE HERE.  Beaver Meadows was once a campground and recreation area in the Allegheny National Forest.  The campground was closed for unknown reasons, but the trails and lake were kept open with a few picnic tables but no potable water or restrooms.  It's all very much in keeping with current trends in the Allegheny.  Although the forest was originally created to protect the watershed, it has been increasingly repurposed as a place for industrialists to make a quick buck. Our national forest has been in a long, rapid, and seemingly inexorable descent into an industrial wasteland. Conservation and recreation in the forest is diminishing. Beaver Meadows was closed. The nearby Twin Lakes campground and recreation area was also closed, due to barium in the water--which is caused by gas drilling in adjacent forestlands. Local volunteers have taken on the task of reopening the campground at Twin Lakes, out of community pride and pure nostalgia, but how can this kind of reckless exploitation be allowed on our public lands. The Trump administration wants to enact a major increase in logging, too.

But the trail system at Beaver Meadows is pleasant. It's got about 7 miles of interconnecting loops with one very long boardwalk over a marshy area with all manner of birds. The red-winged blackbirds are especially numerous. I think there must be good fishing here, too, since most of the people I saw had fishing poles. 

The last time I was at Beaver Meadows--in 2009--I didn't get very far on these trails. I was still relatively new to the hiking life back in those days, and I naively took my two little girls with me, intending to pull them along the trails in their little red wagon. It was not a successful excursion. Now that they're both adults, I could bring them back here to explore the trails on foot, but I think there might be even more whining now than there was when they were 3 and 4. They would do it to make me happy, but they wouldn't like it.

It seems strange that this big trail system has been here all along, and though I fancy myself an expert on all things ANF, it took me 16 years to finally explore it. True, it doesn't have any spectacular views or interesting rock formations. Even the woods here is not especially lush or lovely--a lot of evergreens that look like they were planted by hand. But it's pleasant and uncrowded with some nice waterside areas. 

I don't remember if the lake was covered in lily pads the last time I was here, but they're pretty, and they bespeak the stillness and the tranquility of the place. You can tell that all of this--the trails, the lake, the dam, the boardwalk, etc.--used to be attached to a campground that is no more. I guess that's what gives Beaver Meadows a slightly forlorn and forgotten feel. If I ever go to another costume-Halloween party in this life of years, I'm going to go as a red-winged blackbird.