Forbes State Forest: Pine Knob Overlook & Trail

The two-mile trail to this overlook from the Lick Hollow Picnic Area was steep in places, the sharp rocks slick with wet leaves.  My original plan was to drive to the overlook, but I was turned back by low-hanging clouds that made the mountaintop too foggy to negotiate.  This photo shows Uniontown, PA, and surrounding countryside, 1,200 feet below.

I actually arrived at the top of Chestnut Ridge, the low mountain range just east of Uniontown, at about 9:40am.  It was so socked in with clouds that I had to rethink my original mission.  Visibility along Skyline Drive, at the summit, was only about ten feet.

Some people call this little range "Mt. Summit," but that's just because they don't know what a summit is.  There's an interesting old hotel called "The Summit Inn" just atop the ridge on US Highway 40, "The Old National Pike."  They probably assume that the hotel is named after the hill, when in fact the hill is named for the chestnut trees that used to grow on its flanks.

The Forbes State Forest map recommends that hikers give themselves four hours to complete the roundtrip hike from the picnic area to the Pine Knob Overlook, pictured here.  I did the roundtrip hike easily in two and a half hours without even hurrying.  Over the course of the trek, you rise 700 feet from where you started, up, up, up into the clouds.

The Forbes exists in four or five major segments that are not contiguous, not to mention many smaller patches of woods sprinkled here and there throughout Southwest PA.  The Chestnut Ridge section is further west and south than the areas where I've been hiking lately.  It's the westernmost line of hills in the Appalachian range--though geologists will tell you that it's not a part of the Appalachians.  The range looms majestically above the little borough of Uniontown as you're approaching in your car.  With clouds at their peaks, you'd almost think the hills were much taller than they really are.  On overcast days, it makes Uniontown feel almost like Albuquerque, where the Sandias stand stark to the east, sometimes lovely and protective, sometimes menacing and dark, but ever-present. 

The woodlands on the mountainside were silver with mist, the tree trunks black.  I felt like I was traveling in a magic land or a movie set.  When I finally arrived at the overlook, the clouds nearly obscured the view entirely, but began to clear up after twenty minutes.  They blew like milky ghosts over the rocks, the steam of the world pouring over the highest ridge between here and the Ozarks, far, far away.