Wolf Rocks and the Laurel Highlands Hiking Trail

 

Tell me not here, it needs not saying, what tune the enchantress plays

In aftermaths of soft September or under blanching mays,*

For she and I were long acquainted

And I knew all her ways.

On russet floors by waters idle, the pine lets fall its cone,

The cuckoo shouts all day at nothing in leafy dells alone;

And traveler's joy beguiles in autumn 

Hearts that have lost their own.

On acres of the seeded grasses the changing burnish heaves;

Or marshalled under moons of harvest

Stand still all night the sheaves;

Or beeches strip in storms for winter and stain the wind with leaves.

Possess, as I possessed a season, the countries I resign,

Where over elmy plains the highway would mount the hills and shine,

And full of shade the pillared forest

Would murmur and be mine.

~A.E. Housman

Each October I go to the woods and try to memorize poetry.  The final verse** of that autumnal poem does not deserve to be published, and so I've left it out.  

A friend and I stayed at the route 30 shelter area on the Laurel Highlands Hiking Trail.  Actually, I'm thinking this might be the place to do a thru-hike.  It's 70 miles.  The 8 shelter / camping areas are 8 to 10 miles apart.  (You're not allowed to camp outside the designated areas on this trail, and you have to reserve your spot beforehand.)  

It's relatively easy ridgetop hiking--once you get up the initial climbs at the north or south ends of the trail.  There are some nice vistas--though only a few.  And as popular as the trail is, you rarely meet many others in the camping areas.  Anyhow, it'll take a little planning and about a week of vacation time, but this is my next great woodland goal.  

*hawthorns

**Okay, okay, I feel bad bastardizing a work of art, so here's the final verse, as much as I hate it:

For nature, heartless, witless nature, will neither care nor know

What stranger's feet may find the meadow and trespass there and go,

Nor ask amid the dews of morning

If they are mine or no.