Mt. Davis, Pennsylvania’s High Point in Winter

At 3,213 feet above sea level, Pennsylvania’s highest point is a mere 4 feet higher than England’s Scafell Pike.  It’s nice to be a little taller than someone else—speaking as a guy who stands on the short side of average.  However, England’s tallest hill definitely cuts a finer figure than Pennsylvania’s.  This was a pleasant 2-mile out-and-back hike in the snow at 17 degrees!  Here’s the westward view from the top.

Our state’s high point is in the Forbes State Forest, and it’s probably visited mainly by those collectors who tour the high point of every state in the country.  On one hand, you’ve got a mere rise of some 450 feet in Delaware—which is maybe a little taller than Florida.  (It’s generous of me to mention Delaware because I do not recognize its statehood; it used to be Pennsylvania’s coastline, and it consists of a mere three counties, two in high tide.)  But can you even reach Alaska’s Denali peak without doing a technical climb with snowshoes and ice picks and mountaineer training?  Mt. Davis’s summit is covered in trees.  Without the lookout tower, there would be no views at all.  This is the eastward vista.

And this is looking south.  I actually didn’t “ascend” Mt. Davis except in a car.  My little Kia couldn’t navigate the treacherous, snowy back roads that lead to the base of the mountain, where there is a long trail to the top.  Instead, I drove to the picnic area, located one mile away from the lookout tower, and I hiked from there.  With the winter sun so bright, it hardly felt cold at all.

This view looks north, where the upland rolls on for many miles.  That’s really all Mt. Davis is: an upland hidden among Amish farmlands and ramshackle old villages with ornate little churches, immense pre-Civil War houses, and weathered political signs still in the yards supporting the villainous Doug Mastriano—the failed Republican candidate for governor who denies climate change and intended to outlaw all abortions whatsoever for any reason.  (We really dodged a bullet, and not by as wide a margin as I’d like.)

There was not another soul to be seen anywhere in the woods today, although there were a few sets of footprints in the snow.  Those footprints did not go to the top of the lookout tower.  It was cold and gusty up top with ice and snow encrusted on the frigid steel.

Ice formed in the grates to create a temporary thing of beauty—which I suppose all things of beauty are: temporary.  It’s some comfort that all hideous things are, too.

Ice also collected in the bare branches of the treetops at the summit of the mountain.  It was good to have my crampons and gloves this time around.  The footing was a bit treacherous in places, frozen and slick.

This is my second and—frankly—probably my last visit to Mt. Davis.  I came here with a group of guys many years ago in the summertime.  It’s just not beautiful enough or interesting enough for another return trip.  The countryside around here is scenic, with lots of forests and contour-plowed Amish farms.  Nearby Meyersdale has a maple syrup festival in March, which is interesting.  But the world is big and time is short!  On to other things!