by Sara Haxby, KTA Program Administrator
Continued from September's The Keystone Hiker:
“So they must have started at the ranger station. So it still could be their first-aid kit.”
“Exactly.”
“But what of that comment, ‘How about that first mile?’”
“They must have done it before and figured we had started at the beginning.”
As the afternoon wore on we began looking for camp. A promised Dutch Blitz round hadn’t happened the night before. And Derrick didn’t know it yet, but his pinky toe was slowly growing into one giant blister. Once again, as our feet were moving slower, and we reached our target mileage, I heard the rush of water. Across from a run swollen with this summer’s rainfall, another campsite sat on a flat area blanketed in pine needles. Stacks of firewood leaned against the stone ring, charred from recent use.
We high-fived. The Loyalsock provides.
The next day we passed Highland Lake and the historical hotels on the meadowy plateau that brought to mind the rustling wheat fields moving like the sea in “Sarah, Plain and Tall.” Every few minutes I would smell the sharp wildflower scent in the hot summer air, smile, and exclaim about the beauty and surprise of this section of the trail. A few minutes later Derrick pointed out the ruins of a foundation along the edge of a wood. And again we sighed in happiness for being here at this moment.
The trail left the dirt road and began a short climb along a line of trees in a sloping meadow of tall grass. The last house far behind us, ahead the only sign of man were two tire marks in the meadow grasses. The trail then shares some of the terrain with a Jeep trail. We stopped to enjoy a view on our right, trying to ignore the wide empty space behind us, where trees had been felled and left to rot, in an area about the size of a house. We continued, then climbed a bit over the deep ruts from vehicles off-roading in muddy conditions as they crossed the trail. The trail seemed to be a vulnerable thing. So we kept moving.
The vacation continued. We oohed and aahed at the views and the attentive trail maintenance and the falls before Lower Alpine View. We counted how many blazes and little plastic LTs fit into 1 mile and marked on the maps the spots where we wanted to return. We promised each other a weekend in autumn to finish those last miles. I hear we should leave a whole day for those Haystacks.
For all of those miles, I was proud to work for KTA and proud of the volunteers who have built the Loyalsock Trail, protected it, and maintained it, as well as all the hikers who left no trace.