Memoirs from the Mountains

I went camping and hiking in the Susquehannock State Forest in Potter County, North-Central Pennsylvania. They call it God's Country. The middle of nowhere. I brought with me my Mead Five Star notebook. I ran a parachute chord through the binder, wore it around my neck everywhere and wrote a narrative of the trip. I love to write while I'm in the mountains. These forests inspire me. This writing, this form of release, is new to me. I've somehow found my inner voice ever since I lost everything. It keeps me going. I am painting a canvas with words, like colors, capturing my torment to show myself and others the moment I feel. This is what I do.

Monday
I didn't get to Ole Bull State Park until dark. Ole Bull is divided into two campgrounds. The first campground is near the road and has some electric sites. That section has several RV's. The other section is a 1/4 mile or so away across the creek up against the mountain. That's where I set up camp. There are no other campers over here. It's very secluded and I cannot see nor here the campers at the other campsite. Perfect.

The trailhead where I hiked with my baby boys Blue and Thunder is about 500 feet away from my tent. The trail goes right by my tent about 50 feet up on the mountainside. I return to these sacred mountains to exorcise the demons in my soul, to find myself again. I must somehow expunge the emotional pain that exists in my memories of this place I call my temple so I can find myself, find the essense of my soul.

The sky is so beautiful up here. A three dimensional night sky hangs above me. The Milky Way Galaxy covers a vast expanse of sky, like the brush of God lashing out at the canvas above. This is indeed God's Country.

As I sit here in my tent the forest all around me is coming alive with sounds of animals who own the night out here in the wilderness. The longer the night wears on, the more the forest comes alive! One time I heard big sticks breaking and bushes swooshing from something much larger than myself, most likely a bear. One time an animal actually sneezed on my tent. Later, I was almost asleep when a light appeared just outside my tent. At first I thought it was a flashlight. I opened the tent door and the light disappeared. There was no one there. I grabbed my flashlight and searched the campground. There were no people, no cars, nothing, except for a porcupine, a small rodent, and a bat. I kept vigil for lights for the past hour, but saw none. This mysterious light excites me as my imagination soars! Was it the ghost of the French fife player left here to die over a century ago?

Later I awoke and heard what sounded like a fox circling my campsite. Then I heard the footsteps checking out the picnic table, probably looking for food. Then it left.

Tuesday
Today I am hiking on the STS (Susquehannock Trail System) heading east out of Ole Bull. I am avoiding the trail in Ole Bull and the STS going west for now. The memories of that trail hurt me so much inside. I try not to think about it.

The first hour of hiking was all uphill on switchbacks. I'm sitting here at the top of the ridge. It's so peaceful here. I thought I would never make it and almost gave up several times, but I pushed myself and continued the uphill hike. Impressive, considering the titamium cage I have around my spine, and the nerve damage that stabs at me like a hot knife in my back and legs. I was so sore. My legs went from a rubbery feeling, to a painful numbness. It felt like my thigh bones were bypassing their sockets and grinding up into my lower back. I gripped my two walking sticks and willed myself up the mountainside. The pain envelops my body. A bittersweet reminder of my existence. I hurt, therefore I live.

I continued on the trail for another two miles staggering from hunger and pain, lost in thoughts of happy memories that make me so sad. I came up to an old logging grade and decided to take it towards the general direction of camp. It took me to a dirt woods road which led me back to Ole Bull. I made it back just as dusk was approaching. Even though I was sore, I felt stronger. I feel so alive! Tomorrow is another day. The Hammersley Wild Area awaits. The largest roadless area in Pennsylvania.

The night visitor came again. I'll call him Mr. Fox. I quickly opened part of the tent and shined my flashlight in the direction of the sound, but saw nothing. I love a mystery.

Wednesday
It was so cold this morning. I was completely bundled up. I didn't hear my watch alarm. I woke up at 8:50 and it sounded like it was raining. I looked outside my tent and the ground was white from the frost. The sound that I thought was rain was actually frost melting from the trees. I was too cold to get up and decided to sleep until 10. The temperature went down to the low 20's overnight.

Today I'm hiking Mudlick Hollow Trail to the "Lost Silver Mine" in the Hammersley Wild Area. This is really out there in the big woods. I had to drive over 30 minutes on dirt roads just to reach the trailhead. Due to the late start I figured there was a chance I would be hiking in the dark. My pilgrimage perhaps. My blind journey through the mountains to cleanse my soul.

About halfway up the old woods road I came upon some guys hanging out in front of an old hunting cabin. They were all wearing camoflauge. I thought it was strange, considering hunting season doesn't start until next week. Come to think of it, I saw two other guys down by Ole Bull wearing camoflauge. I guess the hunters want to scout out the area. I stopped to ask these guys if they knew where Mudlick Hollow trail is. According to the hiking guide it's hard to find. I stopped and said "Excuse me, do you know where Mudlick Hollow Trail is?" The closest guy was stuffing his pipe with tobacco, all donned in camo. Some of his front teeth were missing, the rest were stained a yellowish brown. He was staring at me as if he were studying a game animal. The opening guitar notes in the movie "Deliverance" started going through my head, followed by the banjo. My mind had my foot slamming down on the accelerator in a mad panic, but I just sat there and looked at him. After long deliberation, he said "Mudlick Hollow, you say? Junior, ever heard of Mudlick Hollow?" Junior said "Mudlick Hollow? Hah! That's a good one!" and they all laughed heartily at me, like I was a blind man asking for directions to Pearle Vision. I said "I'll find it. Thanks anyway" and left, half ducking in my seat to make for a more difficult target. Hunting season is next week, isn't it?

Back in the early 1600's a French explorer learned that Indians had a secret silver mine here. He found the mine, and setup a furnace to smelt it. One of his men was killed by Indians who cut off his head. Legend has it that when the moon is full in October, his ghost can be seen at midnight carrying his head under his arm. No full moon tonight. Wishful thinking. Tonight is a dark moon.

When I got to the trailhead I realized I forgot to bring moth balls. The biggest threat out here when you leave your car parked at night in the forest is the threat of porcupines eating your hoses and belts on your car. Honest. To prevent this from happening, you're supposed to spread moth balls around your vehicle.

I had an idea. I would encircle the car with urine. In other words, I would pee in a circle around the car. That should keep the porcupines from turning my car into a delicacy. Now the trick was to encompass the entire car with the smell of urine. So I started urinating while side stepping and hopping around the car. This was sheer brilliance! I was enthralled in a state of primeval exuberance! About half way around the car I stopped dead in my tracks. I realized with absolute horror that I had shit my pants. I went from an extreme high to an extreme low. From deeming myself a genius, to deeming myself an idiot. I kept repeating "Oh shit" over and over again, with meaning. Don't try this at home. You just can't make this stuff up.

Two things to keep in mind here. One, I was on a dirt forest road in the middle of nowhere. Two, it was only a small amount of shit, and I had extra clothes, sanitary wipes, paper towels, trash bags, everything I needed. I carefully retrieved the wipes, paper towels and trash bags, stripped from the waist down in the road, diligently cleaned myself, carefully put my underwear and pants in a trash bag, then triple bagged it. As I stood there in the road, I knew If someone drove by me then it would've absolutely been the most embarassing moment in my life. At least that didn't happen. Then I retrieved new underwear and pants. I decided to spray Axe body spray around the bottom of my car. Much better idea.

I proceeded on my hike of Mudlick Hollow Trail in humility. The hike was beautiful, painful, exhilarating. I didn't find the lost silver mine, though, and I just wasn't in the mood to stay out there until midnight. I was hurting and numb. I got back to my car, which stunk to high heaven of Axe body spray, around sunset, and drove back to camp. I was starving. I haven't eaten in two days. It was time to try out my freeze dried spaghetti and meatballs. It was delicious.

Tonight I was visited by coyotes. I was trying to sleep, when I heard about 10 of them yipping and barking down by the creek followed by silence. About a minute later, I heard their footsteps come to my campsite. I've heard that Coyotes out here are up to 20% timberwolf due to cross breeding centuries before. They were circling the campsite. I then heard maybe two sniffing my tent, followed by a growl and a yip. After a few minutes of them checking out my campsite, they disappeared.

The coyotes reminded me of something that happened when I went camping with my wife and daughter about 5 years ago. My daughter, Tasha, 14 at the time, brought along two friends, Chantel and Sarah. Sarah was under house arrest at the time for phoning in a bomb threat at her new school and had to wear an ankle bracelet, a portable tracking device. Nice girl. Tasha and Sarah wanted to see wild animals really bad. Chantel never went camping before and was literally afraid of squirrels. Before the trip, Tasha had to convince Chantel that there was nothing to fear.

We got to our campsite in the state forest about 10 miles outside of World's End State Park at dark, in the middle of nowhere, of course. We setup the tents, and the girls went to sleep while my wife and I finished setting up camp. We had our two old dogs with us, Shannon and Keesha, who have since passed away. All of a sudden, we heard about 20 coyotes barking and yelping down at Sones Pond about a 1/4 mile away. Next thing you know, one of them howls really loud about 20 feet away, followed by another loud howl on the other side of our camp. We were in shock! Now about 20 coyotes started howling all around us. We were surrounded and they wanted something, most likely our dogs. The howling was so loud my wife and I had to shout to each other even though we were standing right next to each other. I yelled "We should wake up the girls!" My wife said "Start a fire!" Luckily it was a dry summer. I gathered branches and leaves at breakneck speed while my wife stood by the dogs, who were terrified. I started the fire in less than five minutes. The howling was non-stop the whole time.

While this was going on, Tasha and Sarah, the ones who wanted to see wild animals and wanted an exciting wilderness experience, amazingly slept through it all. Chantel, who earlier had calmed down when we convinced her that she wouldn't be attacked by animals, and even squirrels were harmless, woke up horrified. I couldn't imagine the thoughts that were running through her head. She was absolutely terrified, thought that she would be dinner that night, served raw, wrapped in a canvas sleeping bag, agonizing over the images of being torn apart and eaten alive. She didn't know what to do, so she jumped on top of my sleeping Daughter and peed all over her. Tasha and Sarah slept through the whole thing. Tasha wondered the next morning why her sleeping bag was all sticky. Chantel, embarrassed by what happened, confided in Tasha two days later about peeing on her. That was hilarious. That camping trip was probably the last good time we shared together as a family.

Back to the present. Later, Mr. Fox appeared again. He (or is Mr. Fox a she?) spent more time at the picnic table again, probably picking up the scent of my earlier dinner. I ate dinner by flashlight and it was possible something was left behind. Better Mr. Fox than, say, Mr. Bear. For some reason, I just didn't care.

Thursday
No frost this morning. A beautiful day to hike the Bunnel Ridge Trail deep in the Hammersley. I stopped in the park office and asked the park clerk when hunting season starts. She told me deer archery season started last saturday. I told her I've been hiking the past two days in my natural green, blue and brown clothes. Here I was, hiking in the forests wearing natural colored clothing that blends in with the wooded surroundings during hunting season. She said that was probably not a good idea, and I'm lucky I wasn't impaled by an arrow. She found some flourescent vests for me to put on over my clothing that the road crews wear. She also told me most hunters are road hunters, and usually don't hunt far from their trucks. I should be safe deep in the Hammersley. Thank God for lazy hunters.

It took me 45 minutes of driving dirt woods roads just to reach the trailhead. Bunnell Ridge Trail is absolutley beautiful! After about a mile of hiking downhill, I stopped to tape up the blisters on my feet. After taping my feet, I was sitting there taking in the view of the forest when I heard something big walking just over a hill about 100 feet away. I couldn't see what it was, and sat there hoping it would crest the hill so I could see it. After about 10 minutes, the sound wasn't getting any closer so I decided to walk over and look. The noise of my footsteps through the leaves warned whatever was making the sound of my approach. When I got to the hill I saw two huge buck (white tail deer with antlers) running away through the forest.

I continued hiking down the trail, and I mean "down". The blisters on my toes were in competition with each other to see which one hurt the most. Atop the leaderboard so far is the second toe on my left foot. On my hike back I followed Bunnell Run Creek up the mountain. There's supposed to be an old logging grade along side of it to hike, but it was washed out by recent flooding from the remnants of Hurricane Ivan. I found this out the hard way. It was a mess! I kept getting stuck in the mud, and had to backtrack several times. It was really tough going. This lasted for two miles, and it took me forever. I bushwacked my way up the mountain for the last 1/2 mile with no trail. By the time I made it to the car, I looked like a dirty wet rat from all the sweat and mud. I was drunk with the feeling of accomplishment. The pain felt so good. The hike was so worth it.

Driving on the dirt road I saw seven wild turkeys. They were big, three of them about 4 feet tall. A huge great-horned owl flew over the dirt road right in front me. Everything seems bigger here in the big woods.

Later that night I heard coyote howling in the distance and an owl hooting nearby. I sat in my chair and watched the stars. The longer you stare at the stars, the more stars appear, as if God is turning on lights, one by one, for your personal viewing. I saw two meteorites, or as us romantics like to call them, shooting stars. I made two wishes with such emotion, tears came to my eyes.

I fell asleep before I could listen to Mr. Fox make his nightly rounds.

Friday
Today is my last full day here. I leave tomorrow. It's another beautiful day and I'm not sure where to hike. I picked out a trailhead on part of the STS, but there was a pickup truck parked there. Once I get on the trail I should be ok, but I just didn't feel comfortable hiking there. Thoughts of an arrow impaling me in the stomach could've had something to do with it.

I decided to pick up the STS at another trailhead, and drove about 30 minutes through the mountains to another trailhead. There was a pickup truck there, too. Oh-for-two. It's Friday. Some hunters must be starting their weekend early.

Which brought me to the reason I had come here all along. Time to hike the trail at Ole Bull, the Daugherty Trail, then connect to the STS west. The last trail I took my baby boys Blue and Thunder on. I've been avoiding it, even though it hangs over my campsite like a nightmare that cannot be forgotten. I was trying to fool myself into thinking it's not there, like an alcoholic in denial. Fate had other plans today.

I stopped at the park office to tell the clerk what I've been going through, and the reason why I am here. I wanted to tell her, tell someone, that I was going to hike the trail that haunts me so. She had other campers in there talking with her. I interrupted the conversation, told her this is my last night here, and wrote down the link to my blog. She is so nice. I don't even know her name. Pretty, bright, friendly... married. Some guy is very lucky to have her.

I parked at my campsite, and there were several other campers that setup over on this side of the campground. There were even a few RV's. Weekend campers. The other campground was full with RV's due to the availability of electricity there. They drive for hours to the remote mountains, then complain about not having electricity. Kind of like going out in a boat sea fishing, then complaining about there not being any land. They should just camp in their backyards.



I hiked to the back end of the Daugherty Trail and stopped at a bench that was put in by the park. It's so peaceful here. I sat here before with my baby boys. I take in a deep breath to relax, then exhale all the memories that plague me, only to breathe them in again. The pain holds me tight in its grip both physically and emotionally.

It gets dark in about an hour. I can't believe I'm here. Was this the right thing to do? Like the treetops above, I am swayed by an unseen force. I am here. I am hurting. I feel so hollow inside. This is hard. Tears flow down my face like the stream below me. This emptyness fills my soul. I can't change the past. I will have to go forward, and go forward I will. I will continue hiking up Ole Bull Trail, which is part of the STS. It goes on for four miles up the mountain until it hits an old forest dirt road. I will hike until dark, then hike some more. Do I return? The trail will tell me. Somehow I knew deep down inside this is what I was meant to do.

I picked up my walking sticks and started the hike. In the forest, it's getting dark, even though the sun has not set. The deep woods have many shades of darkness. It starts getting dark long before sunset, and continues for about three hours. I am hiking up the trail as it is getting darker. This is a beautiful trail. The path lies precariously on a ravine, the creek flows 100 feet below, the mountaintop 300 feet above. The hike is all uphill and I wonder If I will actually be able to hike back down this path in the dark. A fall here could really hurt, if not kill me. I could lay down there for days without anyone knowing. I wonder if the park clerk read my blog.

I have two flashlights with me. One is a regular flashlight with two D batteries that's starting to die. The other is a small LED flashlight powered by two AA's that will last forever. It's a small flashlight, though, and doesn't have more than a ten foot range. I turn on the flashlights and they help a little, but decide to go without light for a while longer. I can still see the trail and the blazes on the trees that mark the trail, each about 40-60 feet apart. I still had a long way to go, so I started double timing it. I used my walking sticks like legs and practically glided up the mountain, faster than I've gone in years. I had somehow found an inner strength that I didn't know I had and made incredible progress. Godspeed. Every minute it was getting darker. Every minute I went faster. My muscles in my arms and chest bulged with strength until they felt about to burst. The sweat poured down my face burning my eyes. I tripped and almost fell down the ravine, which was now about a 200 foot drop, then decided to stop and take a little break before I kill myself.

It's so dark now it's hard to see the blazes from tree to tree. The forest is closing in on me minute by minute. I waist my flashlight to write but it's so worth it. I drink water and wipe the sweat off my face, while listening to the forest come alive with the animals that own the night. This is exilarating!

I continued to hike into the darkness. I hiked uphill for about two hours and made incredible time due to the intense pace. Up ahead I saw what seemed to be a clearing. When I got to it, I realized I was looking at a clear cut as far as the eye can see. A killing field. Loggers. There's about a 3-4 foot pile of dead branches littered throughout the entire area. Everything's dead. What happened to the animals that lived here? I here nothing but dead silence. This is horrible. I can see the forest road ahead. A state employee told me the other day they've been cutting everything when they log for timber for the past two years now. If this is God's Country, then this is the desecration of God's Country. This is death and destruction on a grand scale. It helps keep things in perspective. I am not the only one who suffers. I made it to the dirt forest road, and it's pitch dark. Time to head back down the trail.

My two flashlights didn't work very good. The big flashlight's batteries were low and it was slightly brighter than my small flashlight. The fallen leaves cover the ground as I can barely make out the trail. All I can do is guess where the trail is and look for blazes. I entered the dark forest and immediately realized this was going to be harder than I thought. Not that I didn't think it would be hard, but I thought the flashlights would help me more than this. It helps to have fresh batteries, which I didn't.

The forest was coming alive with the sounds of animals coming out for the night's hunt. Big animals. I couldn't see anything, except for what I took for a trail ten feet in front of me. The big flashlight was actually dimmer than the small flashlight, and was getting dimmer by the second. I started to panic a little and picked up the pace. Bad idea. I stepped in a hole and almost fell down into depths I could not see. I slowed down a little and continued the hike with grim determination, thinking this will rescue me from my emotional pain. This will stop the nightmares. This will set me free from my own personal hell. This will stop the tears. I started repeating to myself over and over agin, "this will stop the tears." I hiked on and on through the dark, searching for the trail, searching for blazes on the trees, stumbling, numb, in pain, never stopping. I suddenly tripped over a rock and fell hard, hanging on to a tree to keep from falling down into the ravine, as my back seized up on me. My back muscles went into spasms as I clung to the tree. I held on for dear life, and wondered to myself, "Why do I hold on?" I still hold on.

I found enough inner strength to pull myself up on the trail. The pain was bad. My back was locking up with about two more miles to hike down the trail. I took a breather to regroup and stretch so I can move again. After some time, my back started loosening up again. Why am I doing this? Will this journey through the dark somehow cure my melancholy? Will this hike make me stop missing my daughter and my baby boys, my pack? My pack. We were pack. We were one. I was here with my pack on this trail last year. The last trail we hiked together as a pack. I miss my pack so much, this hike will never make me forget them. All I can do for now is continue hiking to find my way back down the trail, and hope it somehow makes me find some kind of semblance of a happy life, hope it somehow makes me find myself.

I continue hiking in the dark, my big flashlight worthless now. I can't even see light from it. All I have now is the small flashlight. I have to focus hard on looking for the trail, taking one step at a time, hoping every step is on the trail, looking on the trees for blazes, wondering if I'll make it out alive. Animals are all over the place as I see their shadows run before me, next to me, hearing them run through the brush in a panic, realizing something big is on the trail, and I wonder if it's me.

I push onward, and I start to feel like I'm just hiding from my feelings through this challenge and the ensuing pain. I feel like I'm running away from what's bothering me, destracting myself so I don't think of Tasha, Blue and Thunder. This isn't working. The tears started running down my face again. Ohhh how I miss my pack. They'll always be inside me. I am running from myself going nowhere, and it's taking forever.

I needed something to continue on, something, anything, when all of a sudden I had a vision. It just somehow came to me, like a beacon of light in this dark forest. There was a woman. I couldn't make her out, but I knew she would be my love. She gave me a present. Two dogs. Black labs. My new pack. My salvation. I was so full of elation as I hiked down the trail without seeing. I just walked on and on with tears streaming down my face. I saw my future, and I just knew it was real somehow. For the first time in a long time, I actually felt like I had something to live for. My future. I hiked on, blinded by tears, blinded by darkness, blinded by visions of my new pack, blinded by visions of hope, not seeing the trail, just pushing on like I was walking on air, when out of nowhere this huge animal crashed into me hard, knocking me down. The animal continued up the mountainside, crashing through everything. The sound of branches breaking and bushes crumbling was almost deafening. It was brown, and about the size of a large dog. I only saw it for a split second before it disappeared into the darkness. I really didn't get a good look at it. It was so dark. My small flashlight was only good for analizing my hand. I think it was a bobcat, but I'll never be able to tell. Whatever it was, it was really strong. I must've startled it and it panicked, crashing into me trying to escape. Wow! I was in shock. Luckily it threw me up against the mountainside, and not the other way down into the ravine. Talk about a reality check.

I got up and pushed ahead, still blinded by tears and darkness. These tears were different. They were tears of hope, salvation, promise. I told Tasha, Blue and Thunder I love them and I miss them, and my tears of joy and sadness flowed like the creek below me. I don't know how I made it the rest of the way down the trail. My mind was elsewhere and I couldn't see a thing as I stumbled on through the pain. I watched the glow from the camground fires grow before my eyes as I made my way down the mountain trail.

I made it to the end of the trail and it opened to Ole Bull. I walked into the campground approaching the first campsite as I heard a kid scream and cry, yelling "There's something out there!" followed by his sister screaming, and their dad saying "It's alright, it's just a person." I walked on proudly, feeling like I had conquered the mountains and lived to tell about it, walking into camp with my staffs, feeling like I could walk through walls. The mom, dad, son and daughter just stared at me as they huddled up against the fire, afraid of the mountains, afraid of the dark, afraid of the wilderness, afraid of the stranger who mysteriously appeared out of the darkness. The boy said to no one in particular, "Who is that?" I proclaimed proudly, "I... am MountainWolf!" The silence was so profound I swear you could hear a twig fall. The camper's mouths were agape as they stared at me, not knowing what to think. I continued on past them as they most likely breathed a sigh of relief. I felt proud. I felt invinsible. I chuckled to myself over how I scared the hell out of those campers.

I made it back to my campsite and I feel great. I am reborn. I now stand tall and proud. I conquered the trail that haunted me day and night. I conquered it blind. I hurt. The pain feels so good. I am alive!

Tasha, Blue, Thunder, I love you and miss you so much. The tears still flow, but I am well. You will always be my pack.


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