Hickory Creek Wilderness, Middle Branch, a Few More Pics

I saw the red fox in the woods behind the house again.  What a beautiful creature, and such a wild hunger in its golden eyes!  This time, it moseyed around the edge of the yard, shook the rain off its fur, like a dog, and ambled back to the rocky area among the trees where it probably has its den.

It comforts me to know I've got such a lovely and uncommon neighbor as a red fox--and probably a whole family of them, since both parents care for the kits, which are often born in late March.  Many years ago, someone piled a long row of large stones at the edge of my property line, in a place that's now gone to forest.  My guess is that they were clearing the rocks from a field or meadow back when this was farmland.  They stacked the rocks all in a long row along the edge of the field, and there they remain to this day, providing crevices and burrows for foxes and other creatures.

I read online that foxes love to eat dog feces, and it's actually a nutritious meal for them!  I've only ever seen the fox in those peripheral areas of the yard where this confounded, ridiculous dog goes to do its business.  And as often as I've gone to clean up its mess, I've never found anything to pick up.  And so, I suppose I have one reason (and one only) to be grateful for this dog that's been dropped on me: it's drawing foxes to my yard.  Beautiful, sly, sleek, golden-eyed foxes.... Here are a few more photos of the Middle Branch area of Hickory Creek Wilderness.   

Hickory Creek Wilderness, Middle Branch: OFF TRAIL!

Hickory Creek Wilderness--in the Allegheny National Forest--never disappoints...but that's not for lack of trying.  The one official trail through the wilderness area is poorly marked and very easy to lose in places.  Worst of all, the one trail runs a 12-mile loop along a plateau and avoids the most scenic parts of the wilderness.  I've gotten lost in there once or twice--by purposely going off trail.  But I say that it doesn't disappoint because there's something darkly lovely and soothing about the place.

 At 8,663 acres (13.5 square miles), this wilderness area is about half the size of the Dolly Sods Wilderness in West Virginia--but far less visited.  Even on summer weekends, I've never seen more than 8 or 9 cars at the trailhead parking lot.  Compare that to the hundreds of cars parked along the forest road into the Sods.  My recent explorations along the Tanbark Trail brought me into the easternmost edge of the Hickory Creek Wilderness, which gave me the idea to come back and do a bushwhack deep into the trackless region along Middle Hickory Creek--which the Tanbark crosses at its headwaters.

I parked at the lot where Forest Road 116 meets Hearts Content Road, and I took this short cross-country ski trail parallel to the road and back to the Tanbark Trail, where I crossed the road and entered the wilderness area--all territory that I've covered in recent times.  This ski trail was once the railroad bed into the disappeared village of Dunham Siding.  Once I reached the Tanbark on the south side of Hearts Content Road, all I had to do from there was go off trail and follow the small brook as it gradually got larger and its valley got steeper.  

Wilderness areas are designated by Congress, and there are only two in the Commonwealth.  (Some folks are trying to get the two large "Allegheny National Recreation Areas" designated as "wilderness" as well, but it'll take a more forward-thinking Congress than the one we've currently got.)  The other existing wilderness area in Pennsylvania is just a small collection of islands in the Allegheny River.  But they've got US Route 62 whizzing past them, and they hardly feel remote.  Hickory Creek Wilderness?  Yeah, you can get good and lost in there.  It's a mix of beautiful hemlock and beech forests with lots of streams, and swamps, and waterside meadows.  It's pretty, but there's nothing in the way of overlooks or vistas out over the countryside.

Hickory Creek was designated a wilderness in 1984.  Then in 1985, a powerful tornado came through and cut a wide swath of destruction right through the picturesque southern section of the newly-named wilderness.  On official trail maps, the "tornado swath" is clearly marked; it follows the bed of the Middle Branch of the eponymous Hickory Creek.  I'd never ventured into this part of the wilderness area before because I assumed that the tree carnage would be an ugly hassle to climb over and around.   

I was wrong.  The valley of Middle Hickory Creek is beautiful.  The hemlocks are almost mystical in their size, and shape, and color...and their dark and elegant presence.  And while there is some tree carnage, it's largely due to 21st century climate change winds that come ripping over the Big Level Plateau--where the Allegheny National Forest is located.  The trees that got pushed over 41 years ago, in 1985, have returned to the soil now, with the help of all the moisture in these valleys.  Beavers are very active along the many streams in this area--as they are along the East Branch of Hickory Creek, as my friend and I discovered some years ago.  For a retrospective on that adventure, click HERE.  ("East" Hickory Creek is just NORTH of "Middle" Hickory Creek, which ought to be called "South" Hickory Creek, because it's the only other branch... Who names these things?)

I followed the stream for about two miles until it comes upon a large beaver pond and some streamside meadows.  You can't get lost as long as you're following the stream, but you do have to be careful not to let smaller tributaries trick you into following the wrong stream.

There were still patches of snow on the banks of the streams down here.  This little creek is not Hickory.  Its name doesn't appear on the map.  Do all little brooks like these even have names?  

This area is truly a wilderness--no traffic noise, no beer cans, no trails, no fire rings or old campsites, no rusting oil wells.  Two miles into the wilderness was enough to make me feel like I was in Alaska.  In so many parts of the Allegheny National Forest, you've got to bear with the oil wells, and the access roads, and the clearcuts.  The uninterrupted forest here was such a joy.  Oh, and I saw my first red-shouldered hawk, which is kind of rare.

On the drive out, I snapped a shot of this hunting camp...just because I liked it.  

Limestone Cemetery, Afterthougths

This is Ivan Lancelot, who lived only four days in 1890.  It's sad...but he did get one heck of a cool name.

I saw the most marvelous red-bellied woodpecker in this cemetery, but he was camera-shy.

It's not that I have much hope of our misguided leaders repenting of their faults...but it helps me to pray that they will.  After all, even George Wallace--the Alabama governor who said, "Segregation now, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever"--ended up repenting of his racism.  And it helps me to remember that they too are human beings and worthy of my best hopes for all humankind.

Limestone Cemetery, Warren County

On my way back from the short jaunt on the Tanbark Trail, I told myself I had enough time (and courage) to do one of two things, but not both: I could either explore a certain abandoned house that I've had my eye on, or I could take the long dirt lane marked "Limestone Cemetery."  I've noticed the lane many times, but it seems to wind out along the edge of private woods and fields, so I've hesitated to follow it.  I mean, what if it goes to a private family cemetery?  What if a local on a gator with an AR-16 asks what I'm doing in his hayfield?

It's true that I felt like I was on private property, but at the top of the lane, where it comes to the edge of the woods, there was indeed a small gravel parking area replete with a weathered handicap sign for the area nearest to the graves.  

I imagine there was probably a church up here at one time.  That's how most rural cemeteries got placed, in centuries past.  In the southern part of the state, and most notably in West Virginia, family cemeteries are usually located on family farms--and that was what I was hoping to avoid here.  

While I was on the remote hilltop, I took the opportunity to text my daughters, who are both upset about the needless attack on Iran.  One of my daughters is doing a semester in Jordan, and it's not clear yet how American aggression in the region will affect her.  Not that she's my only concern: I ache for all the innocent and those who stand in harm's way.  More needless violence, and all of it a ploy to distract us from real issues.

There's nothing like an old cemetery on a far-away hilltop to give you a sense of perspective about life...and vanity...and violence...and death...and eternity.  We all end up here, don't we?  We've all got a limited number of years to make good on these lives we've been given.  We will all be forgotten eventually.  Even those who remember us will follow after us and themselves be forgotten.  We can etch our names in marble and attach those names on glass-and-concrete towers; we can name things after ourselves and assume that we will be known and respected forever.  But we all come to this.  

I struggled with substance abuse at one time in my life.  In the cemetery today, I had reason to recall (with horror) some of the beastly things I did when I was "in my cups."  And there, for the first time, I was able to feel a degree of compassion for the author(s) of today's chaos and violence.  They're poisoned souls.  They've been intoxicated and enslaved, utterly owned by power, and money, and arrogance, and greed--just as I was once intoxicated and owned by another kind of poison.  They're in their cups.  And for the first time ever, I was able to honestly pray for their healing...

Tanbark Trail: An Adventure in OCD

So...I just had to complete the small segment of the Tanbark Trail that I didn't get to cover in my previous section hikes.  There was just a small stretch of trail that I missed, near the Hickory Creek Wilderness, maybe less than a mile in length.  The forest there is so pure, the trees so tall, and straight, and silent.  I believe this is within the bounds of the Hearts Content Scenic Area, so camping is not allowed.

So I parked at the trailhead for the Hickory Creek Wilderness and instead of going into the wilderness, I took the Tanbark toward the east branch of the actual stream for which the wilderness is named, Hickory Creek.  The hemlocks were angelic, even if the trail was very poorly blazed in places.  Maybe someday I'll volunteer to maintain and blaze the Tanbark as my gift to the trees and to everyone who loves them and finds their presence life-giving.

This hemlock was grand and ancient.  I had to stop and rub my hands over its bark... I'm not sure if that's an appropriate homage to a venerable hemlock, but it was all I knew to do.

This stretch of trail took longer than I expected because it passes through some slippery climbs among boulders and also because I occasionally lost the trail and had to look for it.  Clearly, we're assuming these days that everyone who comes out here has a hiking app to show them where the trail is.  I still resist trail apps because when I'm backpacking, that's not how I want to spend my phone's limited battery.  After all, I've got pictures to take for my blog.  But!  Mission accomplished.  Now I have hiked the entire 9-mile length of the Tanbark Trail.  It would have bugged me constantly to know that I did all but one mile of it...

Chapman State Park & State Game Land 29

I hadn't been to Chapman State Park in many years, and I didn't intend to go there yesterday either.  But the vicissitudes of time being what they are, I found myself there again.

Chapman's a smallish but pretty park, surrounded on all sides by public lands: State Game Land 29 and the Allegheny National Forest. 

It's got pretty much anything you could want...a campground, a lake, a swimming beach, hiking trails, cabins, yurts, enclosed pavilions for winter use, and a big sled-riding hill that they light up on snowy nights--not photographed.  

My goal was to hike north along Allegheny National Forest Road # 536, which follows the West Branch of Tionesta Creek through State Game Land 29 all the way into the Chapman State Park--maybe 6 miles?  

But somehow, that didn't happen.  Instead, I ended up going straight to Chapman from its main (north) entrance and hiking south into SGL 29...pictured here.

The rock formations in the game land were fun.  Someone left a pair of boots at the top of this boulder, which is maybe 15 feet high.

I mean, it could be Big Bird...with a long stride like that, right?  What kind of bird walks with its feet in single file and its footfalls 24 inches apart?

It would be worth taking a day or two to explore SGL 29.  That's what I love about the North Country: No matter how much of your life you spend exploring it, there's always so much more to discover.  Strangely, I did actually meet 3 other solo hikers out in that far-flung place, plus one oil company employee on a weirdly silent "gator"...because, of course, the state game lands are exploited for maximum profit.

 

Tanbark Trail, Allegheny National Forest

Many times I've driven past this old house, standing alone in the woods.  It serves as a grange hall, a church, a community center, and it even has a free little library.  It seems to be an all-around gathering place for the sparse population of Watson Township.  My name is not Watson, but that was the name of one of my grandparents, and her people are from this area.  I suppose I've probably got an old blood connection to this dark, beautiful, slightly spooky corner of the world.  Funny how you've got four grandparents, and genetically, you're equal parts of all four.  But you only get one of the four names that you're entitled to.  Watson could be my last name because I've got as much Watson DNA as that of the grandfather whose name I did get...

This is apparently the church entrance, "Tidioute Creek Chapel."  Their website is defunct, but I found them on YouTube.  A bit low-church and conservative for my tastes, but, "you do you."  A few hundred yards down the road from the grange hall, there's a roadside spring where people come to collect water for their hunting camps--many of which don't have wells.  It's called "Sand Springs" on the National Geographic map.  Right beside that spring is where the Tanbark Trail crosses the road.  The Tanbark is a great option for people who want to hike the Allegheny National Forest, but who are not interested in camping in an ugly clearcut or next to a noisy oil well.  The Allegheny National Forest is highly industrialized, with ever-increased operations in logging, and conventional drilling, and fracking.  But the Tanbark traverses some of the few protected areas within the forest: The Allegheny National Recreation Area, the Heart's Content Recreation Area (which is not a full-on "national" recreation area), and a corner of the Hickory Creek Wilderness.  That's to say, the Tanbark Trail crosses some of the wilder areas of this otherwise over-exploited national forest.  In this part of the forest, you don't see old extraction machinery rusting among the trees, and the drillers are not forever building new roads to new well pads.  The Allegheny National Forest has been poked, and prodded, and scraped, and poisoned, and scarred by all the soulless industries that still own the mineral rights beneath the trees.  But this zone is pretty wild.

The forest here is mostly level and scenic enough, if unspectacular.  It's quiet and full of birds and other wildlife.  It was in this area that I recently spotted a black bear.  The land is somewhat protected, since some of it is designated a "national recreation area" and some of it is just a regular "recreation area" of the national forest.  Neither type of designation gets as much protection as a "national wilderness area" (like the adjacent Hickory Creek), but any protection is good in these parts.  

Now, let's talk about the Tanbark Trail.  It's a slightly overgrown and seldom-used linear trail that's easy to lose in places.  It's not very consistently blazed.  But the very fact that it's a bit neglected hints at a happier truth: You probably won't see another soul out there!  The Tanbark runs about 9 miles (northwest to southeast) from the banks of the Allegheny River at US Route 62.  It passes through protected and remote areas of the national forest and all the way to its terminus at the North Country Trail, near the legendary Forest Road 119.  A few months ago, I hiked the portion from the Allegheny River to Sand Springs, near Watson Township Grange Hall.  I apparently did not include that hike on this blog--though I could have sworn I did.  Which is to say, I've section-hiked almost all of this trail, but I have no blog post to document the first segment.  Starting at Sand Springs and heading southeast--away from the river--you come upon some really cool rock formations at about 2.2 miles.  Take a look at this massive boulder!  That is a full-sized hemlock tree growing out of the fissure near the top.  The hemlock tree itself must be 25 feet tall.  I'm coming back here to camp someday.

This is not a great photo of the birds in question, but when I got to the rock city pictured above, a pair of ravens objected noisily to my presence.  They made the most agitated squawking noise while circling above the treetops and following me.  It added to the surreal quality of this place with its tall boulders, gray skies, and bare trees.  I know it was my presence that upset the ravens because they started yelling when I arrived, followed me while I was among their rocks, and stopped objecting as soon as I left the area. 

Up among the rocks, there are views like this from the craggy perches high up in the boulders.  I can see why ravens would like such a spot and want to keep it hidden from human interlopers.  In fact, I can see how anyone would like this place, and that's exactly why I'm coming back...ravens be damned.

The skies grew grayer and angrier as the day progressed.  When I reached the East Branch of Hickory Creek, inside the Hearts Content Recreation Area, I turned back and made for the car--at Sand Springs.  I did stop along the way to run my hands over the rough bark of this exquisitely textured tree... Black cherry, I think.  It feels so good to touch a tree.  It's a tactile pleasure that I never take for granted.  We live such sensorily-deprived lives.  I did about 4.6 miles on the Tanbark that day, but it was an out-and-back, so I only covered 2.3 miles of trail. 

It was a cold and extremely windy night.  Back at the house, the electricity went out at about 7:00pm and stayed out till 4:30am.  With the furnace out, I heated one room with this weird little indoor fireplace that my hoarder-wife brought home.  It burns rubbing alcohol!  This was only an emergency solution for the short-term.  When I woke up the next morning, my sinuses were filled with soot.  I've got a rusty old Franklin wood-burning stove down in the basement, waiting for renovations to be completed so that I can install it for just such occasions.  It was kind of fun, too, lighting the place with candles from the local Dollar General--Saint Jude and Mother Mary prayer candles.  The woods and skies surrounding us were darker than a coal shaft.

And on the morrow, I decided to start at the south terminus of the Tanbark Trail and hike northward to the place where I turned around the day before.  I fell just about half a mile short of that goal, but still, it was a nice hike through hemlock forests on icy trails.  This is where the Tanbark crosses Forest Road 119 and briefly enters a section of the Hickory Creek Wilderness Area.

Oh, the hemlock forests all around!  I've been hearing for years that our hemlocks are endangered because of an invasive "hemlock wooly adelgid."  But the extremely cold temperatures help to beat back the adelgids' advances, so I'm grateful for the climate-change sub-zero temps we've had.  There are few things lovelier than a hemlock forest in the winter.  Hemlocks have fewer industrial uses than pines and hardwoods, so their bark was used for tanning leather...hence the name "Tanbark." 

I was off to a late start for my second consecutive day of hiking the Tanbark Trail.  And so, at the end of the hike, when I reached Hearts Content Road, near the parking area for Hickory Creek Wilderness, I decided to do an easy road-walk back to my car.  I did this in part because I didn't want to get stuck under the dark hemlocks in the falling night.  I also wanted to get a closer look at a few of the cool hunting camps that line the road from the wilderness area to the disappeared ghost town of Dunham Siding, where I'd parked.  I mean...just look at this place!  Looks like it might have started life as a farmhouse.  Someone clearly spends a lot of time here, maybe with extended family or some kind of large sportsmen's club.

This little one-room cabin is the kind of thing I originally had in mind when I went looking for property up in the North Country.  It has no electricity, no running water, no bathroom...just a wood-burning stove and an outhouse.  You collect your water at Sand Springs, about 2 miles away.

This older camp used to be a Watson Township schoolhouse.  

This newer camp puts me in mind of places I've seen in Northern New England and the Pacific Northwest.

Back to Forest Road 116, also known as Mayburg Road.  It forks here with the legendary Forest Road 119, which goes on to form the south border of the Hickory Creek Wilderness.  Both roads were sheets of ice and very difficult to navigate with a regular Honda CRV.  The second day's hike was only about 6 miles.