the hike!
well, we did it. we hiked the entire length of the Laurel Highlands Hiking Trail. all 70.1 official miles of it.
emmy and i loaded up the packs with all* the stuff we'd need for 9 days in the Laurel Highlands. this amounted to an estimated 45-50 pounds for each of us from the start, give or take 5 pounds or so. i had the bigger pack, so guess who had a bit more weight. but considering we were packing all 9 days worth of food (and then some, as often happens), that's not too bad. we had faux meat soy products. we had fresh fruit. we had dried fruit. we had dates. we had granola. we had thai noodles. we had G.O.R.P. we had jolly ranchers and tropical starburst.
we procured vehicular transport to the trailhead near Johnstown, and our good friend scott hiked along with us for the first mile to a rock outcropping. this has come to be the first place we chill at along the Laurel Highlands Hiking Trail, to stretch our legs more, catch a cool view (and some tasty pictures), and otherwise get into the groove that is Hiking. plans of some ill sort or another demanded scooter's attention elsewhere in the state of pennsylvania, and he left us to our hiking. he had a mile to walk back to the car, all downhill. we had 4.2 miles and 1300 more feet to ascend with heavy-ass packs. we were beat when we rolled into the shelter. we gathered at the free flowing water source (the only of its kind on the LHHT; all the rest you have to pump), and cooled our heads. we gathered tinder and semi-dry firewood, and made ourselves a cozy little home for the evening, away from most things 'civilized'.
the next two days were much more difficult in many ways, despite the lack of ascents (the first day is spent just getting to the top of the hills). the packs weighed us down, our steps were heavy and burdensome, but the days were bright and warm. almost too warm. but i didn't complain, because the area can dish out more than plenty precipitation if it wants to. robust raingear is a must on all expeditions to the Laurel Highlands. i had just made two packcovers and a small tarp out of material i bought at jo-ann fabrics, and i was willing to test them out if necessary. luckily (and rarely) enough, we did not need to pull out the raingear during a hike until the second-to-last day, our 12.2+ day. we hiked 6 miles in rain varying from steady drumming to biblical deluge, and got our asses whooped mightily. we were humbled. we were chilled. we were raw. we remembered the seven previous days, walking under sunny to partly cloudy skies, getting to the shelter just in time for it to rain in the evenings. we counted our lucky stars for those blissful days, and begged and pleaded with Mother Nature to relent and let us dry out a bit. but when it rains, there is NOTHING to do but accept the lack of control and try to stay as dry as possible. which is to say, not at all while you're hiking and building up a sweat (i don't care what those fancy proprietary patented breathable goretextual fabrics may say, i still sweat like a mofo when i'm lugging a pack over rocky terrain in summery weather. c'mon.)
anyway, after the third day, our shoulders ached considerably less, and so were able to enjoy the scenery and being there more. not to say that we didn't enjoy the trail before... it was just more of a task to lug the fresh fruit around until we ate it. gosh those apples were good! and that pear? wooo! fresh fruit is Da Bomb(tm) when you're on the trail. i took a bunch of pictures, of the trail, of the flowers, of the shelters, of a horse... i'll get them developed soon and post them for all to admire and/or ridicule.
oh yeah, the horse. we were having lunch at this clearing (it was really the easement for some not-so-pleasant HT wires), which nicely enough had a picnic table. we had been looking for a good place to make some yummy noodles, and this seemed perfect. we were perplexed by the electrified fence (which i did not test in the usual manner, thankyouverymuch) on either side of the trail. all became suddenly clear when emily says "what up, horse!" and i look up to see a pretty large horse come toward us, accelerating as we struggled to really comprehend this out of place animal we didn't at all expect to see. i backed off as it came at us at full gallop, but s/he stopped short of the fence, much to our relief. i didn't want to have to answer the question, "would my msr dragonfly stove really survive a horse trampling, or, more to the point, would i??" but that was cool.
we crossed over the turnpike, I-76. if you're ever along the stretch west of the somerset exit (#110, i think? it used to be #10), and you're going up a large rocky cut in the hill, and you see a metal footbridge (it's obviously not for cars), THAT'S the Laurel Highlands Trail. they should put up a facking sign so that people are more aware of the local recreational treasure they're driving right past.
we crossed over the highest point of the trail, elevation 2300-ish, which just so happens to also be seven springs ski resort. ugh. even if i knew how to ski, which i plan to learn very soon, i wouldn't want to hike past ski slopes in the summer. if i want to hike along open grassy fields, i'll go to any one of the zillions of places i know around the 'burgh. i came for the trees, yo. but it was interesting seeing the juxtaposition through new eyes, 5 days accustomed to the forest.
there were all kinds of flowers, many of which i knew, some of which i did not. jack-in-the-pulpits preached next to violets, mayapple blossoms under their umbrellae, and painted trillium in two's and three's. ferns abounded, perfect examples of fractal geometries, first the spiraling deployment, then the self-similar scalar leaves. later we crossed a particular road and all the painted trilliums were gone, replaced now by the more well known trillium grandiflora. (i think i read somewhere that painted trillium are native to the laurel highlands and only here has the greatest concentration in its range). we saw hawks, chipmunks (aka groundjimmies), birds, a few shelter mice, lots of toads, and a few snakes. no deer, coyote (really, they're out there), or bears. but we did hear an owl one night and opossum a few others. flora and fauna, oh yeah!
day in, day out, we put the miles behind us. some days we only did about 6 miles. other days we had to dish out 8 or 10 or 12 miles, depending on the distance to the next shelter area. there are 8 in all: safe havens, oases, homes to hikers, and a welcome treat after a day of exertion.
i pondered my own limits, especially early on in the hike when i had so much more weight and wasn't quite in shape yet. i pondered the differences in perceiving time between the 'real' world and the woods. minutes don't matter so much out there, except to brew tea and cook food. even hours of the day are less important out there. at least, keeping track of them and filling them is less important. the day fills itself with all sorts of fun and not-so-fun things to do. i carry a pack, see some beautiful scenery, take a rest break, snap some pictures, and it's still only "morning" in my mind, not 10.23 AM! 10.23AM is for people on the clock, and clocks don't mean anything under the fantastically blue dome of the sky. i have the world's most important timekeeper searing down upon my head, letting me know that i still have most of the day to finish the miles, make camp, and start a fire. later on, i look up and the blinding orb is not so white, now touched with the orangey glow of afternoon, thus, i know i still have much time to get there. and if, by some stroke of ill fortune, i am unable to finish the miles before the sun sets (which almost never happens, if you start early and pace yourself), i have my trusty tikka to light the way.
i pondered Big Things. like the perfect aspect ratio for any given image. like what am i going to do with myself in the 'real' world? like should we have oolong or dragonwell (or gunpowder or lichee or young hyson or jade pouchong or white) tea for the next morning. i pondered what (and how much) i would like to eat when we arrive in Ohiopyle, 9 days and 70+ miles after starting. we decided that pizza would be in our best interests as far as yummyness was concerned. that, and the fact that i (sorta) knew where a good pizza joint was, sealed the decision.
it was an utterly awesome hike.
i'm sure i'll have more to say about it later, but i'm beat!
* minus the items i forgot to bring: salad mix, spices (salt, pepper, cayenne, basil, garlic powder, curry powder, mountain magic), waterproof note/sketchbook, dixon ticonderoga #2 pencil.
.
tell me what you think! - 1 comments so far
