Sunfish Pond/ Delaware Water Gap

My dad approached me and wanted us to plan a backpacking trip with him and his friend Tim, who just happens to be the father of our good friend Chelsey. So, Andrew and I picked a hike that would suit us, Alex and Chelsey, and my dad and Tim. We wanted a solid hike that would give great vistas but without the too strenuous a climb; we didn’t want to deter our friends from future trips! Andrew had a great pick: a loop around the Sunfish Pond. This rather large body of water is located in the Delaware Water Gap area on the New Jersey side of the river. It just happened to be the first hike that his dad had taken us on 2 ½ years ago. We haven’t stopped hiking since, so we figured it would be a good choice for them. Andrew even tailored it further to incorporate a cool vista that we hadn’t had the chance to check out our previous time. We set up the meeting time at my parent’s house for about 8 in the morning on Saturday. We then packed out gear into the two vehicles and were on our way. We were at the trail by 11. We saw a lot more cars in the parking lot than was anticipated. But a good hike will draw the crowds, especially with picture perfect weather and a shorter distance. We honestly were never on the trail with inexperienced hikers so we were unsure what to expect. We took to the trail and only had to make one stop to adjust equipment. We soon were half way and decided to make lunch. Only then did we find out that my dad had basically brought a “grocery store” of food. It was great how he just kept pulling different cheeses, cookies, and sardines out of his food bag to share. The trail was rocky but in about 2 hours of hiking at a steady 2.5 mph we were at the campsite by 3. We decided to hike a little further since it was so early and go see the pond. It was beautiful. We just sat and enjoyed the view. We then hiked up the side ledge and found a camping spot. We started setting our stuff down when a ranger came up the trail. He strictly said that there was no camping allowed so we made our way back to the designated campsites. We were trying to choose a good site among the area when that same ranger came up to us and made it clear that no campfires are allowed. It was getting chilly and that was something we had been looking forward to doing; it was pretty ridiculous. We were sure he wouldn’t check up on us though, so we still had the thought in the back of our minds to make one. We selected a large camping area and started the set up process. We all had our tents up, or in my dad’s case a hammock hung, in about 45 minutes. It was great seeing how fast Alex and Chelsey were getting into the whole experience with us! We were in the process of gathering stones and logs to sit on and started playing a card game. We were still thinking about starting a fire at some point when the already infamous ranger came by and made it clear again that no fires would be allowed. It was dark at this point and we all had on all our layers and still a bit chilly. So we were a little angry at the guy for not letting us get warm. He even went as far as saying, “Some people just can’t get away from the tradition of making a camp fire” as he was walking away from us… pretty weird. We finished out the night getting somewhat warm eating some chili. We hung up our food (to deter bears) and hit our sleeping bags. The night went by quickly and we all stayed pretty warm. Over breakfast the next morning we decided that finishing the loop and enjoying a vista would be a great ending to the weekend. It was a few extra miles but well worth it. We definitely made the right decision. The view of the Delaware water gap was just beautiful. We stayed there for awhile for the great photo opportunity and then made our way down the steep trail. We had an encounter with a snake, but it was very docile when comparing it to the last snake we saw on the BFT, although plenty big. The cooler weather seems to calm these reptiles down. We reached the bottom of the mountain and our cars were in sight. Tim and my Dad took one car on the fast route home. We drove Alex and Chelsey home and stopped at subway on the way to complete a great hiking weekend with good friends!!

Rancher for a Weekend at Clarks Horse Farm

The weekend had finally come. We were going to Jack Clarks Ranch with Uncle Jim and Aunt Emmy, my sister, mom and dad! I got everything packed in the car before Andrew got home from work. We left by 8:45 to pick up Brenna along the way. By 11 o’clock, after pulling into many wrong driveways, we were unpacked and comfortable in Jack’s basement apartment. There was thousands of dollars of taxidermy all over the walls. Bear, antelope, dozens of deer, small game, wolves, and turkeys…even a mountain lion! Uncle Jim introduced us to Jack, the hunter extraordinaire, and we planned out the next day before retiring to bed by 1. In the morning, we had some great homemade baked oatmeal and were off for the cattle round up by 8. My dad participated in this, although he hasn’t ridden horses in years. In order to get the needed horses, we took the gator out onto some of his 1,000 acre pasture land and watched as a group of 30 {he has 125} horses were gathered for the riders. They chose 5 and the rest went back out into the pasture. We brushed them and saddled up before transporting them over to where the round up would take place. It was amazing to see the 5 horse and riders gallop down into the valley and funnel the herd up towards us. Once they were gated in, the calves were separated from the heifers by the riders. The heifers were then placed in a gated pen which had different sections. The last section had a chute, where the vet stood and would check to see how far along their pregnancies were. Research this process if you do not know how it’s done. The doc has his entire arm in the rear end of a cow. If they were not pregnant, they were labeled “open” by painting a big “o” on either side of the back haunches. It was rainy and cold but the sight was too interesting to miss. We stood bundled up and watched this process for almost 2 hours. Jack then treated us to a warm lunch of soup and sandwiches at the local diner. Best crab soup ever! After the meal we rode the horses indoors because it was pouring. It was amazing that these beautiful creatures had just been out in the pasture {he does not keep them in a barn} but could become so tame. What an experience to be a part of. We rode for a couple hours. Jack then made the announcement that he had a calf to deliver to a certified Angus beef outfit. It was about 45 minute drive and Andrew and I rode in the truck pulling the trailer with the calf in it. You could hear it along the way. The cattle farm was enormous and we got a full tour of it all. Jack’s son happened to work there and gave us a backstage look at the operation. We also learned that one calf, if it had enough seamen to breed 400 heifers, is worth over one hundred thousand dollars. We finished the hour tour and made our way back to the house. We showered and settled in for the evening. We had great homemade subs and then all relaxed by the big marble fireplace in Jack’s living room. He also had an excellent automatic massage chair. By 11 o’clock we were all in bed. We were woken up at 9 on Sunday morning with plans to go to a nearby homestead to gather fresh eggs for breakfast. The lady who owned it offered a ride on her gator to round up her 4 horses and the cutest little mini donkey. The donkey didn’t even reach the bottom of the horses’ stomach. We broke the ride into guys and girls. The girls went first and we had the opportunity to see the horses grazing near her pond then come toward us. We headed back down the hill. One of the horses was galloping towards us and passed only 5 feet from the tailgate we sat on. It was incredible! The guys went on their trip and we had a tour of the hen house. When the gator returned we left to go back to the house to have breakfast. Jack made us a great scrambled egg dish and toast. We then were told to head back to the pasture where we would handle colts for the first time. They had to switch herds from pasture to pasture so that the correct colts could be placed into the gated chutes. We watched as we were used as a gate across the road and bridged to pastures together so that the horses could not get away in the process. Now, the colts and mares were where they needed to be. We were instructed to “love on” the colts as they were placed in the gates areas. This took some getting used to. We were to rub the hair where the saddle would be placed to get it ready for the feel of a saddle. The colts were very cautious of our hands at first and try to buck up and kick. But, after 10 minutes, they learned that our soft touch wouldn’t hurt them. The next step was to let the colt out of the gate and “halter break” them. The colts were very strong and the mare would get uncomfortable at seeing her colt fight. Andrew, Dad and Aunt Emmy tried their hands at it. What a crazy thing to witness. They were being dragged around; it looked like mud skiing! The colt eventually settled down and accepted the slight instruction from the bridal. The process would need to be done for weeks until they were ready to be saddle ridden. After the excitement with the colts, we had a chance to ride in the ring again. Later, Jack told us his plans of taking us up the mountain (Buchannan state forest) to tour the beautiful vistas. From there he drove us to another farm to ride 2 gators through hundreds of acres of cattle. It was incredible how much land he owned. We even saw 2 long horn steer. We got back to Jack’s and had one last meal for homemade subs. Packing up and thanking Jack for a once in a life time experience, we were on the road home again.

Black Forest Trail

The Black Forest Trail is a 42 mile loop trail in north central PA located near Pine Creek Gorge (PA Grand Canyon) and nearby the West Rim Trail (see our older blog post). It has almost constant elevation changes, but rewards your efforts with countless vistas. The trail starts at a pine plantation in Slate Run and follows an old railroad grade. Narrow-gauge railroads were first used in the Pine Creek area to bring timber to local sawmills. There are also several later lines that were used for carrying slate, shale, flagstone and coal from these valleys. After a few miles descending and ascending gently, the trail became a dug out footpath that eventually led us through an old flagstone quarry. We enjoyed the expansive views of the valley and followed the trail along switchbacks through huge walls of stone. The trail ascended steeper and later passed through another, but smaller, quarry. After gaining about 1000 feet the trail stayed mostly level for most of the afternoon. We followed the ridgeline through mixed forest for 5 miles as the path began to drop into Red Run. We reached the stream and followed alongside for a few more miles before setting up camp. All of our hikes lately have involved camping at higher elevations, with little or no water. It was nice to finally have limitless water to cook and wash up with. As we were setting up, thunder was rolling in although the skies were clear. Being in a valley hid the darkening clouds from us. I was able to get a fire, although everything was very damp while Britt got dinner going. After a meal full of delicious rice, beans and chicken (lots of protein), the rain finally started to fall. It only got heavier as the night went on. We awoke several times during the night to lightning and thunder from a storm that seemed to be parked on top of us. Thankfully, it was barely a drizzle when we woke up and packed our things. A nice breakfast before hitting the trail and we were off. Day one was relatively short at 7.2 miles, mostly because of a late start. We knew we had to pick up the pace and cover ground from then on. The day started with a steep climb out of the hollow and kept climbing for mile after mile. Funny how miles seem so much shorter in a car! After ascending for almost the entire morning we topped out. As we continued walking and catching our breath, I glanced down to realize I was inches away from a large rattlesnake! I let out a loud yelp and Brittany lunged backwards with a scream. After composing myself I shot a video and gave it a moment get off the trail. It finally disappeared, but only shortly. A few paces down the trail it reappeared from a thick batch of Rhododendrons and refused to leave our path. It was impossible to go around due to the thick bush, and throwing rocks did nothing to scare off the snake. Instead it became aggressive. Eventually, I threw a rock at its head and finished him off. I hate to kill anything, but it was making itself a serious situation. After that ordeal, we still had lots of miles to cover for the day. We watched our feet much more closely as we followed winding trails though thick mountain laurel, pine and old hardwood areas. Then several more vistas; so many that I actually stopped taking pictures. A few stretches followed old logging roads, but thankfully hardly more than a few hundred feet. At one mile point we passed a few old leased camps. Beginning in 1913, quarter-acre, permanent camp sites could be leased for 10 year periods. There are still 4500 leased camp sites in the PA State Forest System. The trail continues along a section once used by the Tidewater Pipeline Co. when they were trying to cut into Rockefeller’s Standard Oil Co. monopoly. Under our feet, the area continues to be used, but now for fiber optic communications. After this stretch came my favorite section- the few miles through open grassland on the ridge above the Dyer Branch stream. Eventually, we spent the night near a section of this stream. This time, the rain didn’t hold off quite as long. It was thundering before we even made it to camp. We had our tent set up just before the first water fell. This storm unfortunately would not pass for the remainder of the hike. We quickly ate dinner and stayed as dry as possible under our shelter. It stayed dry except for a few leaks, largely due to the fact that our tent has been in constant use for over a decade. We did our best to sleep and woke in the morning to a downpour. Trying to keep our things dry became pointless and we packed up. After evaluating maps and plans, we decided to cut off a few miles, and another night under relentless rain by taking a shortcut. We would be in our car by this night. In times like these, it’s worth the investment in a good map. The trail that would serve this purpose turned out to be the Baldwin Gas Line Trail. This is a very interesting trail of its own accord. Our landmark to turn off the BFT and onto this route was an old stone shelter with a metal roof. It was once the pump house for water used to cool engines on the Tidewater Oil line in the 1880’s. It took about 2 miles on this path before rejoining the BFT and saving us about 10 miles. At this point it was about lunchtime and the rain had only gotten heavier. The remaining miles to the car were strenuous, but we were motivated. At one point we were walking on a carpet of pine needles and caught a brief glimpse of a beautiful white owl. The moment was gone before we could snap a picture. As we climbed and descended, and climbed again, I pondered to myself how it is possible for clouds to contain this much hellish rain and continue to float in-air. Thankfully, some of the most interesting sights were at the end of the trail. We made our final descent down the spine of a very exposed ridge. The relentless rain and humidity developed a thick fog throughout the valley, and made for some interesting photographs. Anticipation made the miles seem longer as we approached the car. Unfortunately, we missed one of our final turns and walked the remaining distancing the torrential down pour on what we recognized to be the road we drove in on. The rain had drenched everything, even my change of clothes I was planning to drive home and stop for dinner in. We had few options but thankfully a clerk at the local general store offered to dry my gear in their personal dryer. After putting on dry clothes we felt human again. And dinner never tasted so good. This was one of those trips that are better as a story told than an actual experience. We have been consistently lucky with the weather on past trips, it couldn’t last forever. Enjoy this video...

Hiking Camel's Hump in Vermont's Green Mountains

Waubanaukee Indians first named it "Tah-wak-be-dee-ee-wadso" or Saddle Mountain. Samuel de Champlain's explorers in the 1600's called it "lion couchant" or “the Sleeping Lion”. The name "Camel's Rump" was used on a historical map by Ira Allen in 1798, and this became "Camel's Hump" in 1830. The Park came about as an original gift of 1000 acres including the summit from Colonel Joseph Battell, who originally bought Camel's Hump to preserve the view of the mountain from his home. In 1911, care of the mountain was entrusted to the State Foresters who managed with the aim to keep it in a primitive state according to Battell's wish. The state fought proposed intrusions by communications towers and ski resorts until the summit's Natural Area was officially set aside. In 1969, special legislation was passed to turn the roughly 20,000 acres on and around the mountain into Camel's Hump State Park. Camel's Hump now remains one of the few undeveloped peaks among the mountains of Vermont. We were excited to check it out and happy to have my brother Adam, and recent college graduate, along for the trip. It was also great to be able to split up the driving. We travelled overnight and arrived in the light of the early morning to see the beautiful landscape that is Vermont. We discovered that the record winter snowfall and spring rain had eroded many of the access roads we needed to reach our trailhead. This state park is a popular destination, and the park service was diligent in making accommodations for the ruined roads. We parked in a “winter” parking lot about a half mile from where we had planned- not bad. We hiked the distance over the closed roads. They definitely were impassable; there were huge trenches eroded all around us. We passed a plaque commemorating the unexplained crash of an Air Force B-24 Liberator Bomber on October 16, 1944. It killed nine crewmen. The Army searched on the wrong side of the mountain for the wreckage, but a group of local teenagers saved the life of the sole survivor on the other side. This man lost his hands and feet to frostbite. Soon enough we were on Monroe Trail heading up the eastern side of the mountain. I could tell that I was well rested from being able to sleep in the car, and that our legs have gotten stronger. We hiked for several hours before feeling like we needed a breather. The mountain was in a heavy fog, and the air was humid. All of the mist made it seem as though we were walking on the set of a movie. The trail climbed at a steep and steady grade. Much of the path had standing water, or as was more often the case, running water. Most of the area has only a thin layer of soil, and most of our travelling was across smooth, slick rocks. Hikes like these are made much more enjoyable by having nice gear. Our feet stayed dry, and so our spirits stayed up. Near the summit we were passed by the only other hiker we saw. He was a trail keeper for the Green Mountains Club who recently took on the job. He seemed to like us and offered to let us stay at a GMC lodge (actually a log shelter) without paying the usual 5 bucks per person. We decided to take him up on that offer, changing our route off the summit to reach the place. We broke above tree line and were eventually at the summit. The views were still hidden in the thick fog and clouds. In fact, visibility was only about 15 feet. But the eerie visibility was overshadowed by the whipping winds. The gusts much have been over 50 mph. We were blown off our feet several times thanks to the slick footing and our packs acting as sails. We had charged up the mountain, and now decided we had plenty of time to wait and hope that the clouds cleared out. We made ourselves as comfy as we could and ate lunch. Eventually the views could be seen through the patches of cloud, and they were awesome! We got our photo-ops out of the way and headed onward down the south face of the mountain. This route is a section of the 273 mile long “Long Trail” that is the oldest long-distance trail in the United States. The Long Trail follows the main ridge of the Green Mountains from the Massachusetts-Vermont line to the Canadian border as it crosses Vermont's highest peaks. It was the inspiration for the Appalachian Trail, which coincides with it for one hundred miles in the southern third of the state. Anyhow, this southern face gives the peak its iconic look and makes for a heart pounding descent. We dropped down the entire elevation in under a half mile while white knuckling over some of the most exposed climbing we have ever seen. Every few steps, I would pause and appreciate how ridiculous of a place we were in. we passed one other hiker, and he was ascending this route- a safer choice. In his arms was a terrified dog that couldn’t go any further. We finally reached the southern base that rested on a range and still towered over the valley. The view looking back up the ridge was unreal. It is truly a unique looking mountain. A storm was moving in and we tried to make good time. We covered several miles and crossed several intersecting trails before arriving at the door of our residence for the night- just as a rain picked up. The place was a thing of beauty. It was simple and small, but had tons of sleeping room, a dinner table, a stocked bookshelf, and even an outdoor compost privy! We quickly filtered water in the rain and rinsed off in the stream. We ate dinner to the sound of rain on the metal roof, and thunder moving closer. We couldn’t help but take a nap- one that was interrupted by what sounded like a cannonball was shot through the front door. We could see that lightening was coming down in bolts on the summit. Over the course of the night the storm reached a fever pitch. It was worse than any I have seen, even when living in Kansas. It reminded me of the story of Martin Luther’s conversion experience. Suddenly it seemed less silly. In the morning, the woods looked like they took a beating. After packing up, we walked over rivers that were a trail the day before. Trees had fallen everywhere. We had made such good distance earlier that now we didn’t have much left to cover. A few hours later we were at our car just after lunchtime. This hike was one of the most enjoyable thanks to stronger legs, nicer gear, good company, and the kindness of a Green Mountain Club trail keeper. Vermont is beautiful!!!

The Catskills

We love New York. When it comes to parks and wilderness management, they do things right. Instead of making resorts out of every available location, they direct the budget to maintaining trails and protecting land. They also don't require permits and tedious paperwork for backpackers. We had a great experience hiking the Adirondacks in the fall. We couldn't wait to return to the state and check out the smaller, more southern range: the Catskills. We planned an out -and-back hike over several of the area's most popular mountains. One of them is the highest in the range- Slide Mountain. The drive went fast, and we've never had such an easy time finding a trailhead. I've had more trouble finding a McDonald's. It was nice to start a hike free from the frustration that normally follows trying to find a place. We got started hiking and crossed a few streams right off. They were clearly in flood stage from the past several days of rain. The trails were typical northeast business- steep, rocky, and washed out. We spent most of the day climbing up Slide Mt. Towards the top, the trail became snow covered. It was considerably colder than when we had started, and the thick pine trees kept the temperatures low enough. We found a rock outcrop with beautiful views of Giant Ledge and Panther Mountain (another popular area to hike). We sat down for a quick meal and climbed a fallen tree for even better views. Then it was onto the last stretch of snowy trail before we topped out. The only official marker on the summit was the concrete foundation of an old sign long removed. Slightly ahead and downhill, the trail opened into a large clearing. There we met and chatted with some other hikers. They all were just out for the day, with the exception of one gentleman ending a several day trek at the trailhead where we started. In a ledge below the clearing was a plaque. It was in memory of the writer John Borroughs. It described how he enjoyed and frequently spent nights on this remote mountain. Many of his writings take place in this area as well. It was time to make distance before we ran out of daylight. Our map and other hikers warned us that the trail ahead dropped near vertically. They were right. There was a constant barrage of sketchy ledges and rock walls to descend. On a couple occasions we had to lower our gear down ahead of us. After losing over a thousand feet of elevation in a third of a mile, we found an incredible campsite. We were still at a decent height, and in the middle of the descent. This campsite had such a view that we ditched our original plans to camp further ahead, where things leveled off. From this spot you could clearly see the mountains we were planning to climb the following day- Cornell and Wittenburg. We set up camp and appreciated the sunset, while things became chilly. We attempted to make a fire, but despite our best efforts, and to the shame of boyscouts everywhere, we couldn't keep it burning. Everything was just too damp to take a spark. It was probably a good thing anyhow because later we learned that no open fires are permitted above 3500 feet. We kept warm by cooking dinner (rice with chicken and broccoli) and hopped in the tent. Sleep comes quick after a day like that and a good dinner, plus a nice down sleeping bag (shout out to P. Andy). We woke up to the sun rising through the tent vestibule. It was Sunday morning, and I laughed to myself thinking that this was more spiritual of an experience than could ever be found in a pew. We skipped a warm breakfast for a cold one in a effort to make good time. Things picked up right where they left off with the tense down-climbing. Things finally started leveling off and we passed the campsite we had originally planned on. It was a sweet one, but we got the better deal for sure. The trail became soft with pine needles underfoot and stayed that way until the summit of Cornell. This was a wooded mountain with few views. There was one, however, that was spectacular. From a certain rock outcrop you could get an eyeful of Ashoktan Reservoir. We would see it in even more dramatic fashion from our next stop- Wittenburg. It took about an hour before we walked onto the bald summit. There was about 50 yards of open grass and boulders to enjoy, if you could take your eyes off of the views. This took the cake as my favorite hiking destination to date. We took our time and had a meal while watching hawks fly below. It was quite a job to peel myself away from there, knowing that we would have to hike up the walls on Slide. Nevertheless, we made good time and distance, beating the setting sun back to our vehicle. Of all the hikes we have done, this is one that I would most recommend to someone looking for a challenge, and a great payoff.

Assateague Island

Assateague Island is a barrier island off the coast of Virginia and Maryland. At one time it was connected to Ocean City, Maryland. Now, it is separated by an inlet. Assateague Island is unique for many reasons, but it is mostly known as being one of the few places in the United States where you can see wild horses. The horses have been separated into two herds divided by a fence at the state line. The wild horses on the island are descendants of domestic animals. There are many opinions about how the horses originally arrived.The most intersting theory is that the original horses were survivors of a shipwreck off the coast. However, no records have confirmed the shipwreck story. Another possibility is that the the horses were transported to the island by mainland owners during the late 17th century in an effort to avoid fencing laws and livestock taxes. This was the story endorsed on the national park literature. Regardless of how they arrived on the island, the horses have survived scorching heat, legendary mosquitoes, stormy weather and a lack of food. Nowadays, the National Park Service manages the Maryland herd, while the Chincoteague Volunteer Fire Company owns and manages the Virginia herd.
Management of the island itself is shared by the Chicoteague Natgional Wildlife Refuge, the National Park Service, and the Fish and Wildlife Refuge. Another interesting part of the history of the island are the shipwrecks it has seen. As coastal trade developed in the late 1800s and more ships traveled through the area, the number of shipwrecks increased. Many ships were wrecked because of difficulty of navigating the unpredictable offshore sandbars. One of the most famous shipwrecks involved President Benjamin Harrison. His official yacht ran aground a little more than 75 yards from the shore. While no one was killed, the ship that had been the official yacht of Presidents Hayes, Garfield, Arthur, Cleveland and Harrison was damaged beyond repair. Island residents often stripped the wrecked ships of their cargo. Although looting the ships was against the law, it was extremely difficult to enforce. New shipwreck sites are still discovered when storms blow through the area. Driving in the early morning made our time on the road a breeze. We arrived just as the park opened. This in itself was a relief since the government's nonsense with an undecided budget almost closed national parks across the country. We immediately spotted horses on either side of the road. It seems they have learned where best to meet humans giving out free food. We drove carefully through carefully as horses walked up the meet us. We checked in with the park office to get the necessary backcountry permit. We were greeted by a super stoned, hairy, amazing human being. He was full of grusome advice, like "don't go out there in the summer, you'll be drained of your blood in no time" (referring to mosquitos). I managed to keep a straight face and headed off with some maps and information. As soon as we started hiking, we realized how unique of an experience this really was. Finding any undeveloped coastline nowadays is nearly impossible.
Although we were only an hour's drive from ocean city, things felt pretty isolated. There wasn't a traditional trail with painted blazes and cairns- the trail simply followed the beach. There are several backcountry camping areas down the length of the island, alternating between oceanside and bayside sites. We picked an oceanside destination, at a shorter distance than usual. We intended the weekend to be a relaxing one, and we knew that walking in the soft sand, with backpacks, would be tiring. The weather turned from overcast to sunny and beautiful just as we were setting out. The blue skies, black and white swirling sand, and sound of the surf made for a tranquil experience. I must have become a little too relaxed- several times I snapped out of a daydream to find my feet in the water. We passed a few fisherman as we hiked through the morning. We easily found our campsite by turning of the beach at a designated milage marker. it was still relatively early, and we happily set up camp. Knowing that you aren't racing the setting sun makes the process more enjoyable. After we had finished, Britt and I decided to explore the island. We wondered if we could make it through the thick marsh and woods to the bayside of the island. Dad hung around camp to fend off horses and read a book. We made it to an inlet on the inner coast by following horse tracks that were blanketed by large piles of manure. No wonder the island is so densely covered in greenery, it's been pummeled with fertilizer for hundreds of years. We headed back for camp and passed a well preserved horse/ large deer skeleton. Once back, an early dinner and bedtime completed fulfilled our quota for relaxation. Before going to sleep I set out a pile of trail mix to lure in the horses. Britt got a kick out of that. If any horses came, I'm sure I slept through it. It seems they prefer the easy handouts from drivers by. If anyone is planning on hiking in this area in the near future, shoot me an email for some helpful directions and pointers.

West Virginia

We’ve begun to see a pattern. The worse the roads are heading to our hike, plus the sketchier the locals seem, the better the hike turns out to be. In accordance with this rule, our trip was destined to be an awesome one… Dolly Sods wilderness is located in West Virginia, surrounded by the Monongahela National Forrest. It was named after a German Pioneer family (spelled Dahle) who had livestock that grazed on the open, grassy hills, called sods. The area suffered from early logging and forest fires, but has recovered to form an interesting landscape. Hiking this area, you will discover that there are bogs on top of these mountains- very unusual. In World War 2, this area was used for testing artillery and airborne bombings. Many signs in this forest indicate precautions to take when finding live rounds. We were interested in a trail winding around Blackbird Knob. We reached the road that led to the trailhead, but it was closed. We took a long detour in an effort to enter the area from another route. That too was gated off. A few other people nearby noted that it was typical to see the road closed during winter, but it’s always been open by March. We studied a map and realized that it would be an extra five miles of hiking, each way, to reach the original start we had expected. We had driven too far to turn back. We got our packs out and set out down the old access road following the ridgeline. After an hour or so, we saw a small sign indicating a vista ahead. For some reason, I decided to check it out, even though we were in a hurry to make good distance. We trekked up an outcrop and immediately I noticed a tent. It was below us, in the shrubs below the bluff. I climbed down, and was surprised to be in waist-deep snow. The tent was mostly covered in snow as well, and took a few minutes to dig out. Inside, I found a backpack, sleeping bag, clothes, maps, food, a scented candle and tea lights (romantic night, eh?), and most surprisingly- a clip of 9mm ammunition. I searched everything for identification, but there was none. The strangeness of finding all these things began to set in. All the gear inside the tent would have kept in from blowing away. The maps inside indicated that the hiker’s car was almost 2 days away, and no hiker would leave without all their gear at this distance. More strange will was that 9mm are not what a hunter/hiker would carry. I pulled out my cell phone but had no service. Calling 911 went through anyhow. I described what I found. The dispatcher said a team of state police would be on the way shortly. We needed to stay nearby, and aborted our hike altogether. We explored the nearby area and found an ideal campsite within sight of the access road. As we set up camp, made dinner, and hung out, the sun had set. No policeman came. It made me angry to think that if it was my stuff lying on the side of that cliff, the officials wouldn’t be very interested. I already hold a low opinion of policeman-this didn’t help. We settled into our tent, making conversation and playing cards. It didn’t do much to stifle our thoughts from wandering. Was there a dead body under all that snow? Where was the 9mm the ammo belonged to? Still no policeman. That figures. Then in the middle of the night, we were further spooked. What sounded like fireworks were exploding nearby. I quickly tried to think who could be so stupid. After all, we were in the middle of an artillery testing field. There were no cars parked at either end of the access road. The only people we had seen left hours ago. The closest town was over an hour away. We decided we had no reason to stay. The state slogan “Wild and Wonderful” was a smirking understatement. It took all of five minutes for us to be packed up and on the path back to our car. We couldn’t find a reason to stay after everything so far. I’m sure we will give the state another chance, but for now, we’ve seen enough of West Virginia.

The Big Apple

We planned this trip on short notice. Andrew had the idea of going to New York about 2 weeks ago and I was excited when he mentioned it! We are used to doing our own thing but thought it would be fun to take our really good friends Heidi and Jordan with us. Andrew got us two hotel rooms in nearby Dover, New Jersey, and the trip was officially on the calendar.
We planned to meet at our house on black Friday morning. Driving went fine and we made it to the hotel by 2:30. We realized it would be 1.5 hours to Times Square from the train station nearby. We figured it would be quicker and a cheaper to drive to the Journal Square subway station in Jersey City and leave the car there. Finding the correct parking garage for the station took a view minutes, but figuring out the subway was a little easier than we had anticipated. We were on 33rd street by 4. At the subway exchange things got a little complicated. We had no idea where we were going and only had maps from an AAA catalog to help. We got on the right track thanks to a kind stranger and arrived in a packed Times Square.
It was incredible to see the sun setting on the buildings while the people hurried around. We had our obligatory photo shoot and explored surrounding streets. We found a little café type place and had dinner. From there we walked toward Rockefeller plaza and enjoyed some coffee to warm us up. The Christmas tree was in place, but not lighted yet. We checked out a few stores and the ice rink. By around 8 we were tired and ready for the hot tub waiting for us back at the hotel. We made our way to a nearby subway and took it back to 33rd street. It was here that our subway experienced went south. Me and Heidi made it off the subway and turned back to realize that the doors closed on Andrew and Jordan. It was kind of stressful until we all met up again 30 minutes later. It turned out they had taken the first subway back but we didn’t see each other right away. Andrew finally caught our eye and we met up back on the upper level. We were home safe just in time to enjoy the hot tub for about an hour.
After the pool area closed around 11 we went back to our rooms for the night. After changing out of our swimsuits we got a text from Jordan saying that they were hungry. We ended up going out to a diner and enjoying a late night meal and some funny conversation. The diner was only 5 minutes from the hotel and we were back by 1am. We agreed to be ready by late morning and see the rest of the sites all day.
We met up around 11 the next morning and made our way back to the diner for breakfast. We took our now familiar route into the city but this time went further north to 72nd street. Once there, we were able to enjoy over 2 hours in beautiful Central Park. More coffee to keep us warm as we walked around the gorgeous landscape. I never how large this park really was; we could spend a whole day there. From central park we had decided to see the Serendipity café (as made famous in the movie) and took another train. The wait time ended up being several hours so we stopped at a nearby Starbucks instead. Next, we were onto Central Station and more photos. It was time to eat again, and we made our way towards China Town and Little Italy.
The streets were lit up for the season and the walk around the towns was awesome. We passed by rustic traditional Italian restaurants and fresh cannoli bakeries. We entered into China town and experienced fresh fish markets and handmade goods from central Asia. We were getting really hungry and we had made plans with Heidi’s cousin, Rebecca and her husband Stephan, for dinner at a restaurant they recommended. The place was called Da Gennaros, and the food was unbelievable. It was the best Italian meal any of us had ever eaten. We also enjoyed some authentic Italian beers before saying our goodbyes. The next stop was ground zero. We spent some time learning about the upcoming memorial opening next September 11, 2011. There will be two reflection pools that located in the foundations of the world trade center towers. Check out nation911memorial.org
After another fun morning of sleeping in and trying a different place for breakfast, we were on our way to catch a ferry to Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty. We made it to the parking lot and walked to the port where the boat was docked. It was only about 5 minutes to Ellis Island and we were soon exploring the old buildings. It was incredible to realize that most of the buildings rested on a manmade extension of the island. The ferry departed at 330 and we rode over to the statue and got our last photo ops as the sun was setting. It was a great experience to see those two pieces of our history. We got back to the car after it all and ate a quick meal on the way home. Great weekend!

The Great Smoky Mountains NP

The Smoky Mountains National Park is the most visited park in United States. It is part of the Blue Ridge Mountains, located on the border between Tennessee and North Carolina. It was established in the early 19th century when the U.S. National Park Service wanted to establish a park in the eastern United States. Even though Congress had authorized the park in 1926, there wasn’t much federally owned land to dedicate to the cause. There was no money available either. Thankfully, many individuals donated to get the plans off the ground. John D. Rockefeller, Jr. contributed $5 million, the U.S. government added $2 million, and private citizens from Tennessee and North Carolina pitched in to assemble the land for the park, piece by piece. Over time, homesteaders, miners, and loggers were evicted from the land. The park was officially established on June 15, 1934.
Some 100 species of native trees find homes in the Smokies, more variety than anywhere else in North America or in all of Northern Europe. Almost 95% of the park is forested, and about 25% of that area is old-growth forest. This is one of the largest blocks of deciduous, temperate, old-growth forest remaining in North America. Over 1,500 additional flowering plant species have been identified in the park. The park is also home to more than 200 species of birds, 66 types of mammals, 50 native fish species, 39 varieties of reptiles, and 43 species of amphibians. Mollusks, millipedes, and mushrooms reach record diversity here. In recognition of the park's unique natural resources, the United Nations has designated Great Smoky Mountains National Park as an International Biosphere Reserve. Unfortunately, the park has recently come under attack from a tree killing insect-the Wooly Adelgid. This invasive species was brought from overseas- either Japan or Europe- by way of firewood and transplanted stock. The wooly Adelgid has now killed countless Hemlocks at the lower elevations in the park, and almost 90 percent of the Fraser Firs on the higher elevations. There have been recent attempts to control the damage by introducing predators to the Adelgid, using chemical treatments, and other tools. So far, the costs of these measures have limited their use, and their effectiveness. Nevertheless, this forest remains arguably the best in the east.
This trip was a life lesson on investments and returns. We invested a lot of hours on the road, but in return we received incredible trails, campsites, and perfect weather. Our original plans involved a loop hike up Mount Laconte, but after some convincing recommendations from a ranger at the backcountry office, we reconsidered. Laconte is always very crowded, and camping was restricted-you can only stay at the summit shelter, along with handfuls of other hikers. Never mind that the mountain has the largest base to summit elevation east of the Mississippi, and we had barely slept in almost two days. The alternative suggested to us was a quiet loop hike mostly following ridgelines, located towards the southern end of the park. There were still considerable elevation changes involved and we could spend the night at one of the best campsites in the park –site #52, located on Newton Bald. We took her suggestion and drove a half hour from the office near the Gatlinburg entrance to the trailhead. As soon we got to the parking lot, we knew this park ranger had given us a “best kept secret".
Our car was the only one in the lot, and the park had been packed thus far. Once we were on the trial, we forgot about the distance we drove to get there. We were walking through huge hemlock forests that resembled the redwoods I had seen years ago more so than eastern woods. It was absolutely silent- not even a rustling of leaves or bird chirping for hours. It was such a surreal experience to hear nothing, while seeing so much. The trail lead through thick patches of rhododendrons while winding along ridges. I have never enjoyed the walking aspect of backpacking as much as I did here. We reached our campsite with plenty of daylight left. Site #52 was home to another camper or two, but there was more than enough space for everyone. We found a place for a tent about 50 yards away from that group at a higher point that was recently cleared as an alternative site. It was incredible. This site also had a spring on top of the mountain, an unusual luxury. Newton Bald turned out to be not so bald. It was less densely forested, and years ago was actually exposed, but had since grown in. Since the leaves had mostly fallen, we had seen many views already. We realized later there are no exposed campsites in the park. No worries though, the plush hiking and campsite more than made up for that. We cooked an awesome dinner and made a campfire. Our lack of sleep sent us to bed early, but we played some cards first. The next day we hiked out and noticed it was much noisier that the day before. There were woodpeckers hammering away, and an amazing amount of wildlife in the open. We must have seen a dozen chipmunks and even more birds. At one point a chipmunk ran into a hollow tree right in front of us. I poked around but couldn't flush him out. We hiked a few hours and made it back to the car in the early afternoon. We must be getting stronger legs, we made great time hiking on this trip. We took advantage of the time saved checked out Clingman’s Dome before heading home. Clingman’s dome is the highest point on the Appalachian Trail, and the highest point in the park. There is a small concrete watchtower erected on the summit, where hikers can appreciate 360 degree views of the area. On the way up, the damage to the Fraser Firs was obvious, but it was no less photogenic. We seemed to glide up the steep trail to the tower, since this time we didn’t have our packs on. It was an amazing view, with a trip to match. This experience more than made up for the last time we were in the area, when the snow had closed the park. Many thanks to the helpful lady at the office.

Hickory Run SP

It’s a shame that my dad and I haven’t been out backpacking -just us- in years. We finally planned a weekend trip, but we had to shorten it a bit to accommodate both of our schedules. We still had a good amount of time to hike, however it narrowed down our choices for destinations. I discovered Hickory Run State Park, located in the Poconos and thought it looked perfect. The park is well known for containing an enormous boulder field that has been designated a National Natural Landmark. Several of the park’s 40 miles of hiking trails reach this location. We had only vague plans and made the rest up as we went. We grabbed a few maps at the park office and plotted a course to the rocks. The field is 1800 by 400 feet in size (16.5 acres) and contains boulders up to 26 feet long. It’s peculiar because the ground is almost level- most rock fields form on steep slopes. Most of the explanations for the field suggest it was formed during the last ice age when a glacier bulldozed the rocks into place. I found it interesting that in the early 1800’s prospective farmers called the area the “Shades of Death” because of the dark forests, rocky soil, and nearby swamps that spoiled their plans. The only developments realized in the area were several mills located on nearby Mud Run, accompanied by a small town.
It was hunting season, and the parking lots were full. Surprisingly, the trails were empty. Still, I was thankful that we had worn some hunter orange just in case. The colors of the forest were awesome. We passed some mountains while traveling that had lost their leaves in the recent storms. In this area that wasn’t the case. The entire trail is well marked and maintained. The best part was the final stretch that passed through old-growth pines. The fallen pine needs made it feel like we were walking on a mattress. We ended up spending the night under those old trees, after we had explored the huge field of rocks. It was a perfect weekend away. Hopefully it won’t be so long until we can hike together again.

Shenandoah

Shenandoah National Park is located in Virginia, and is home to a stretch of the Blue Ridge Mountains. The place has a lot of history. Shenandoah was authorized in 1926 and fully established on December 26, 1935. Prior to being a park, much of the area was farmland and there are still remnants of old farms in several places. The state of Virginia slowly acquired the land through eminent domain and then gave it to the U.S. Federal Government on the promise it would be designated a National Park. The park itself is long and narrow. The Shenandoah River and valley are on the west side, and the hills of Piedmont on the east. The most popular aspect of the park seems to be Skyline Drive-a 105 mile long National Scenic Byway that follows the ridgeline. Even though I think paving roads on top of beautiful mountains because people are too lazy to climb them is criminal, they have redeemed themselves by saving lots of other land from future development. Almost 79,579 acres have been designated as a protected wilderness and there are over 500 miles of hiking trails. As you can imagine, Skyline Drive attracts huge crowds. Even so, I was impressed with the cleanliness of the park facilities and trails.
The part we decided to hike was a loop in the Matthew’s Arm section, in the northern part of the park. We arrived late at night, and instead of getting a hotel room, we just fell asleep in the car. We wanted to get on the trail at sunrise, and we figured paying for a room just to sleep 4 hours wasn’t worth it. Anyhow, the next morning we waited a few minutes for the Park Office to open so we could get our required backcountry permit. This was surprisingly a painless process and the Ranger guy was super helpful.
Our route was developed around a few interesting destinations- Devils Stairs and a forgotten frontier town cemetery. The trails in this area are beautiful. We had trouble finding the Sugarloaf Trail which connected a crucial leg of our trip. We spent some valuable time searching for it, but eventually we decided to take a look at our maps and make some changes. (We would later find this trail on the last bit of the hike) We improvised a new loop consisting of several trails that would still allow us to visit those interesting locations. It worked out great, and gave us some experience with navigation that will come in handy for our future trips. The Devil’s stairs were steep and slippery, as promised. It was very similar to Rickett’s Glenn, back home. There were huge walls of rock on either side that became narrower and formed chutes funneling water with us as we descended. The trail drops over a thousand feet in just a fraction of a mile. After reaching the bottom there were nice hollows we might have camped in, but we wanted to make more distance before retiring for the night. The trail flanks Pignut Mountain for a few miles, and about ¾ the way up is where the cemetery’s located. Most of the literature we’ve seen describes this place as spooky, but I thought it was serene. It is surrounded by a large stone wall with a single iron gate. We continued on past rock walls of old farms to our campsite for that night. It was not an established campsite, but it was perfect. Actually, I can’t recall more than one or two obvious campsites on the entire loop. We set up quicker than ever and enjoyed some delicious dinner and card games before calling it a day. In the morning I took some extra time to make it look like we were never there, then we headed out. We didn’t leave too much distance for ourselves, and made it back to the car in the afternoon. I still have mixed feelings about the whole Park and its commercialized pseudo-nature identity, but these trails were amazing.

The Adirondacks

The Adirondack Park is the largest protected area in the lower 48 states at almost 6 million acres -roughly the size of Massachusetts. It is an unconventional State/National Park in that it’s a patchwork of public and private land. It’s not managed by a single organization, rather by some not-for-profits and local governments. This area contains the best hiking I’ve experienced within a day’s drive. We decided on 2-day, 17 mile “Five Mountain Loop”. It encompasses Macomb Mountain, Hough Peak, and The Dixes. Macomb Mountain was an optional out-and-back that we chose not to do. Our route was in the region of the Adirondacks referred to as “The High Peaks”, which contains the highest concentration of its namesake. It’s just about a half hour south of Lake Placid, NY. We spent a night at a Hampton Inn in Schenectady before starting the following day. It’s an awesome college town about ¾ the way to the trailhead. It was great to get some rest beforehand. We got an early start, and got on the trail with no trouble. The first day of the hike would be on completely unmarked paths. The first several miles followed the Bouquet River, spotted with killer swimming holes. We may have to go back when it’s warm; they were incredible. We crossed the stream several times, and finally turned away towards the peak of East Dix. We passed lots more water, this time lakes. Almost every lake had a beaver dam. We were told to listen for the slap of their tails on the water-a danger warning for other beavers, but we didn’t hear much. Several hours later, we arrived at the foot of the East Dix slide. We weren’t quite prepared for what we had in front of us. The slide (bare rock with loose footing) ran straight to the Peak, and was way steeper than I had anticipated. Our topo map gave us an idea, but I never climbed anything like this. What made it more unnerving was that there was no marked trail that we could see, and it had rained the previous day leaving streams running down the face of the rock. We were pumped for the challenge. We figured we’d get to the top before worrying about getting our bearings and finding the trail. The first ¼ mile wasn’t too bad; we enjoyed the exposure on the mountainside. Then it got much, much steeper. It was hand over hand climbing for about 500 yards, and the winds were howling. Looking down made our stomachs churn. To say the least, we were thankful when we made it to the summit. We were exhausted (it took a few hours to climb) and found a sweet site to make camp. Brittany has quickly become quite the backcountry chef, and this time it was chicken tacos on the menu. We ourselves set up, and I got a fire going. That night was unbelievably windy. We woke up to the tent stakes having ripped out, and the tent almost being blown away with us in it. I improvised some boulder anchors and we struggled to sleep with the noise of the straining tent. At about 5am, the wind stopped suddenly, and we enjoyed a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. In the morning, we took in the views of the fog lifting from the valley, all while warming up with coffee. I could have sat there for a week. The trails for the next few hours were very tight, and our equipment took a beating with the briars constantly brushing past. We followed the horseshoe-shaped ridge, and eventually stopped for lunch directly across the range on Hough (pronounced “Huff”) peak. We met people there for the first time during the hike. One lady was from Estonia. We kept hiking, stopping for a few minutes at West Dix peak before pushing on to the highest part of our hike-Mt. Dix itself. Some of the terrain in the saddle of these two mountains was wild. The way was spotted with shoulder-high boulders, and occasionally one that required improvisation to get over. At one point, several huge rocks created an impasse. They only way up was a rope climb. Just like gym class. When we finally reached the peak it was dinner time. We were stunned to see the summit. Earlier, and from a distance, it seemed like a knife-edge with barely room to sit down. Up close, it looks more like a stone tennis court. The sun had heated up the rocks, while the wind picked up and cooled the air. It was like a spa. We ate dinner and took our time packing up. In hindsight it was too much time. We set out to complete the loop, there were only a few more hours of daylight. We picked up the pace and intersected with another slide, this time on the other side of the range. Thankfully this one was shorter, and less steep. Once at the bottom, we followed another stream and eventually passed a shelter at the base of the Mountain. There are only a handful of them in the Adirondacks. We anxiously reached our second to last waypoint-a lake about 3 miles from our car. It was completely dark, and we finished the last stretch with our headlamps on.