Section Hiking in Rocksylvania

Ahhhh, spring. Winter's grip on NJ is finally broken. Break out the t-shirts and shorts. Watch as the landscape gets a bit greener each day. Plan the next outdoor adventure.

Living so close to the famed Appalachian Trail, it inevitably acts like a magnet for those of us who are familiar with its pleasures. As soon as the mercury begins topping 60 degrees on a regular basis, we can feel it beckoning us to return and tread its well-worn path. Of course this year is no different than any other in that regard, so when the son of family friends informed me that he was going to be spending several days on the trail with some of his college buddies and invited me to come along, I jumped at the opportunity.

When "the plan" was revealed to me just prior to the trip's start, my first reaction was that 16-18 miles per day sounded like a bit much. I knew from previous experience that this particular stretch was no stroll in the park. The AT in Pennsylvania is well known among hikers as an extremely rocky portion of the 2175 mile trail. There are some sections where it seems you go for miles without your feet touching one square inch of soil. When you DO come to the occasional patch of "normal" trail, your battered soles breathe a sigh of relief, but these segments are teasingly short-lived. On the other hand, the added stress placed on one's lower body by this part of the trail is just another challenge to be overcome by those who are not easily discouraged.

imagine mile after mile of this

Still, 18 mile days are always l-o-n-g days of walking with precious little time for an afternoon nap or other diversion. Could this 54 year-old guy still do that kind of mileage? And not knowing how experienced the others were, I even had my doubts whether everyone in this group would be able to handle that much distance per day. So, feeling obligated to at least note my opinion, I sent my concerns via email to Bill, the only one in the group who I knew personally. I was fully expecting to be ignored by the invincible young bucks, which is pretty much what happened. Don't get me wrong... I didn't mind at all, and I would have done the same in their position. This was THEIR trip, not mine. I was just the old guy who would be tagging along and probably slowing everybody down. Although I am often the one cast in the role of trip planner, that responsibility was being shouldered by someone else this time and I was actually grateful that I did not have to partake in the decision making process. I suppose that was part of the appeal for me... I didn't have to do anything but grab my pack and show up. If I couldn't handle it, then I'd simply hike at whatever pace I felt comfortable. I am no stranger to solo treks, and my pack always includes everything I need to be fully self-sufficient for the duration of any adventure. I was fully aware of and prepared for the possibility that I wouldn't see them the entire four days. Also, on some masochistic level I guess I looked forward to finding out how much punishment the old bod could still take.The others began their hike on a Sunday afternoon in Wind Gap, which coincides with the beginning of section 2 of the trail according to the official Appalachian Trail Guide. They hiked about 4 miles in to the Leroy Smith shelter and spent the night there. The next day they walked their first full day, doing a grueling 17+ miles and ending up at the Outerbridge shelter. This is where I caught up with them. My wife dropped me off Monday evening at the junction of the trail and route 873 in Lehigh Gap and I hiked the 7/10ths of a mile up to the lean-to they had claimed for the night. I met the other two members of this expedition for the first time, Tyler and Patrick, both likable fellows.

signage

After the introductions and some small talk, I continued to follow the white blazes in the diminishing light and then swung onto the North Trail, a blue-blazed path that parallels the main route but is far more scenic. I made my way up to the ridge and emerged out onto a bald overlooking the Lehigh River Valley. The sun had just set so I pulled the camera out to record the moment. Don't forget to click on the pictures to enlarge them!

view from the top

I wandered around for the next twenty minutes or so enjoying the vista and looking for a place to set up camp. There were only a few scraggly trees that had managed to take root out on this exposed summit, so finding two appropriately sized and spaced trunks proved difficult. I could have easily found something suitable at the edge of the bald but preferred, if possible, to set up where I could enjoy the incredible 270-degree view from my hammock. Eventually I located what I wanted and strung up my perch for the night. After hanging my food nearby and changing out of my shorts, I stretched out on one of the bigger rocks that was still warm from soaking up the sun's rays all day. By this time it was completely dark and the lights of civilization were twinkling in the distance. I love campsites like this, they're always the highlight of any trip for me... very conducive to introspection and prayer. I sat quietly for nearly two hours gazing out over the surrounding landscape while enjoying my bedtime snack.

stealthin' it

As soon as the sun broke above the top of the blue ridge the next morning, I was up and about. I made my usual oatmeal breakfast, packed up, and prepared to move on. First, though, I made a little side trip down to "Devil's Pulpit" to see if the view from there was any better. It wasn't, but it made for a nice half-mile (round-trip) leg-stretch. I grabbed my pack and headed southwest, leaving my campsite at precisely 8:45am.

tuesday morning

the magical levitating food bags

pioneer spirit?

i'm sure there's a story about this place

The North Trail stays out on the exposed ridge for the next couple of miles, so there were many good views. I saw a wild turkey scurry into the brush when I startled it. Bill, who followed this same route a couple of hours later, actually got to see a bear feeding along this section. Somewhere around the 2.5 mile mark, this blue-blazed trail turns back into the woods and rejoins the AT. Around noon I came to Bake Oven Knob shelter, a smallish, older lean-to with water nearby. I tanked up, left a note for the others, and headed on.

just passin' thru

The actual summit of Bake Oven Knob was a mile or so farther and offered a decent view. I stopped for a snack a short time after that along a power cut, then plodded on for another four miles and had a hot lunch up on Baer Rocks, another overlook. Next it was down to the Rt. 309 road crossing which marks the end of section three, then up the other side. Another four miles of fairly level walking brought me finally to the Allentown shelter, the group's pre-determined destination for this day. It was exactly 6pm when I arrived at the empty hut and I wondered how long it would be before the boys would show up. It had been an 18 mile day, plus or minus a few tenths, and I was exhausted. But I had done it! I recalled how a decade ago my wife and I had done 15 of those miles over the course of TWO days, and I had just accomplished 20% more distance in only ONE day. Yeee-haaaa!

now THAT'S a nice shelter!

My reveling was brief... Tyler and Bill showed up a mere ten minutes after me. Then I found out they had started more than two hours later than I did that morning! Pffffffffffft. Back to reality. But... but... they're at their physical prime. Plus I took a full hour for lunch while they took barely twenty minutes by their accounting. Anyway, we were all glad that we were done for the day. Patrick rolled in about an hour later, we ate dinner, then sat around comparing notes as the last light faded.

this is what "five bars" looks like

Speaking of notes, one point I thoroughly enjoyed making repeatedly on this trip concerns footwear. You see, after I cut some ten pounds from from my total pack weight last year, I discovered that I can now wear regular old sneakers on the trail instead of boots. I tried this for the first time last fall on a similar hike and knew from that experience that I could safely leave my vibram soles at home and travel in my comfortable everyday sneaks, plus I didn't need to bring a second pair of "around camp shoes", which further decreased my pack weight. Predictably, however, my bright white $12 K-Mart specials sometimes drew snickers from other hikers. In a setting where gear comparisons and pride in one's equipment runs higher than average, I'm sure many false assumptions were made regarding my level of backcountry knowledge and expertise as a result of this choice. But hopefully a few pre-conceived notions (likely derived from manufacturers' "need-generating" glossy ad pages) have been called into question by cold, hard, real-life observations. The interesting thing (for me) on this particular trip was that, of the four of us, I was the only one who never got even one blister. Indeed, I had the last laugh watching the others perform their nightly foot care routine.

go ahead, laugh it up suckers! :-)

The next morning I slept later than usual and barely got out of camp before the sleepyheads. Patrick hit the trail first and I left a few minutes behind him.

some of us claimed to "need" more sleep than others

at least one of 'em knows when to GET UP!

It was gonna be another big-mileage day, so I kept a brisk pace and took few breaks. As a matter of fact, I didn't rest at all until I got to Dan's Pulpit around noon. Patrick showed up about 10 minutes later. He had taken a short side trail up to Tri-County Corner and we figured that must be where I unknowingly passed him. After a 15-minute break here, he, then I, resumed our trek. I caught up with him a while later at a bridge over a good-sized stream. It was here that I learned of Eckville shelter which was not mentioned in my circa 1980 guidebook, but WAS in his. It seemed like a good lunch destination and it was only a half mile ahead, so I left him soaking his feet in the cool water and took the lead once again.

panther creek, "always flowing"

Patrick's guidebook indicated that the Eckville shelter was one of those that had a "caretaker", and even more of interest to a dirty, sweaty hiker, a SHOWER. I wasn't there but two minutes and I had my towel, washcloth, and soap out of my pack and was headed for the little outbuilding. Man, did that cold water feel good! As I sat at the breezy picnic table eating my peanut-buttered bagels, the others strolled up. Evidently, the prospect of a refreshing shower wasn't as appealing to the rest of the gang. They just snacked and rested a bit before we all resumed our journey back up to the ridge.

one of the few AT shelters with flush toilets and showers

The caretaker had assured us that it was an easy hike up to "The Pinnacle", billed as the best view to be had on the entire AT in Pennsylvania. He was right that the route was mainly along an old mountain road, but the relentless uphill that went on for hours made the task brutal. With the others safely out of earshot way ahead of me, sometime during the third hour of this long ascent I began to hallucinate and pester myself verbally, "...are we there yet? are we there yet? are we almost there? how much longer till we get there?..." Just as I was concluding that there was something unnatural going on and this trail would never get to the top of anything, I was assured by a hiker traveling in the opposite direction that "it" was only another quarter mile or so ahead. "Yeah, sure... that's what I told me about an hour ago", I muttered to myself after he had passed.

Eventually there was indeed such a place as The Pinnacle and the view was very nice. Even better was the breeze that offered some welcome relief from the persistent gnats and helped evaporate some of the new sweat which had accumulated since my shower at Eckville. Bill and Tyler were here, having arrived at least 20 minutes before me, and they were cooking up some mac and cheese. Patrick had opted to take a blue-blazed shortcut which eliminated a few miles of walking, including this overlook. The others packed up and moseyed off, headed for their last campsite of this trip, the Windsor Furnace shelter.

refueling stop

suspicious-looking character

Inclined to avoid sleeping at shelters whenever possible, I stopped a mile or so before Windsor Furnace at a place called Pulpit Rock. (Those Keystoners sure have a penchant for naming places, don't they?) I like to camp on high ground and preferably where there is a view. Shelters rarely have one since the primary factor in selecting a site for building one is, logically enough, the availability of water, and you won't find many springs up on the ridgeline. There is also the relative lack of privacy at shelters, combined with the fact that I am now a confirmed "hanger", preferring to sleep suspended in a hammock rather than on the ground or even the smooth floor of a lean-to. Anyway, I found a suitable spot not far off the trail to pitch my rig, grabbed some food, my phone, and a pint of water, and laid out on the slab of stone to enjoy the view and call home. My wife and I talked for over two and a half hours. She caught me up on the latest weather forecast and checked out some pictures taken previously by others from this remote location which are available through google earth. Of course my view was at nighttime which looks much different from the daytime version. Still, it was nice that she could get an idea of what I was seeing. She told me there was a chance of rain before daybreak, so before retiring I pitched my tarp above the hammock for the first time this trip. It was a warm night and I hardly even needed my sleeping bag.

I awoke at first light to the patter of rain on the tarp, so it was a good thing I got the updated forecast the night before. Everything was completely dry under my 12 foot by 10 foot waterproof shield, so I was able to pack up without getting wet at all. My hammock system is designed for very fast setup and break-down, employing straps, cords, and carabiners with lightweight, quick-adjust hardware. I can have my hammock out of its stuff sack and fully deployed in about a minute (without hurrying at all). Prolly half that if I tried to do it fast. Break-down takes only slightly longer... basically as quick as I can re-stuff it. The tarp goes up and down with similar ease, and I only use it if there is the possibility of precipitation.

Using google's satellite view before departing on this trip, I had discovered a network of access roads in this area that passed very close to both my campsite and the shelter where the rest of the crew spent the night. When I departed my camp Thursday morning, I decided to travel the mile between my location and the Windsor Furnace shelter on these roads and see what there was to see. I arrived at the shelter a short time later at 7:45am. After using the privy located there, I headed off on this last stretch of trail between us and Bill's Jeep which was parked in Port Clinton. Tyler and Bill caught up and passed me a couple of miles before the road. After they sailed by, I picked up my pace enough to keep them in sight until we finished up around 10:30am. They jumped in the Schuylkill River to cool down and clean up, while I chose instead to take a rubbing-alcohol "spit bath" to accomplish the same. By the time we three were done with our respective personal hygiene and refreshment, Patrick rolled in and we drove away, another memorable hiking adventure behind us.

Thanks to all the guys for making this an enjoyable trip, especially Tyler for putting it together and Bill for the invitation and ride home.

The Timp

Way back in the spring, my youngest daughter Sarah began asking me when we were going to make our annual trek to "The Timp". It was about ten years ago that I had first taken her and her siblings to this place which for me (and evidently her as well) has special memories attached to it. It has since become a tradition for us to make a yearly visit to Harriman State Park near the NJ / NY border and backpack up the steep three mile trail to the top of this modest 1000 foot high "mountain" and camp. Events conspired to prevent us from making the trip earlier this year, and then the heat of summer was upon us, but once the weather turned cooler again, she (bless her heart) resumed her prompting. The trip was finally scheduled for the last weekend in October, weather permitting. We put the news out to a few other people we thought would enjoy accompanying us on the hike, and they made plans to join us.

After several consecutive weekends of absolutely perfect weather, I guess you could say we were due for a bad one. Sure enough, a frontal system stalled over our area just in time to cast doubt as to whether we would have to cancel the trip. Every day last week I flipped through half a dozen weather websites looking for any encouraging prediction but found none. On Wednesday the forecast was calling for rain on both Saturday and Sunday. On Thursday night my wife and I were at the grocery store picking up some last minute items for the trip just in case something changed. By coincidence we bumped into a friend who was one of the few we had invited to come along and he informed us that he and his wife had decided to cancel. I couldn't blame him... who in their right mind would leave the comfort of their home to spend two days and a night in the cold, wet woods? On the other hand, this trip had already been postponed several times, and with the end of the 2007 camping season near, I was inclined to cancel this trip only if it looked like a total washout. Unfortunately, that was the way it would be if the people who make their living predicting the weather were correct.

Science had been my favorite subject in school. It was one of the few classes that had my full attention and where I actually learned anything that I considered useful. Not surprisingly then, I have always found meteorology very interesting. Understanding how the whole hydrologic cycle works can give one a better appreciation for the intricacies of our planet, at least in my opinion. Anyway, I had to remind myself that the purpose of this trip was to have fun, not to study the different types of air masses and how they interact with one another. If it rained the whole time, it would NOT be fun for anyone (with one possible exception). On the other hand, if it cleared up right around the time we got to the top of the mountain, THAT had the potential to be spectacular and maybe even enhance the adventure.

Not surprisingly, the night before our scheduled departure people were calling to find out if the trip was still on. After accessing the detailed data on the government's NOAA website and making my own analysis, I came to the somewhat optimistic conclusion that it was a good bet the precipitation would end right around the time we planned to begin walking (2pm) and it might even dry out before we reached the top. I suspect that everyone had their doubts about the accuracy of my un-edjumacated opinion. I know I did. Luckily for me and my pride this is exactly how the day played out.

We assembled around mid morning on Saturday and ran through the last minute checklists. It was raining heavily as the eight of us threw our loaded packs in the vehicles and drove north toward the park. Around 1pm we stopped for lunch along the way. It was still raining hard with no signs of letting up any time soon. Around 2pm we pulled into the parking lot near the trailhead. It was STILL raining, although the sky had begun to lighten up. We strapped on our packs, put our ponchos on, and began our ascent, becoming more confident with each step that this three-day-long deluge might finally be coming to an end. It was hardly five minutes up the hill that people began removing their rain gear. Shortly after that, the jackets and sweatshirts came off. As it turned out, all the extra clothes we brought to make sure we had something dry to wear were reduced to unnecessary cargo. We plodded up the steep incline and made our way ever higher. Even with several rest stops, the miles seemed to go by faster than expected. As we neared the top, blue sky patches appeared through the canopy of trees. By the time we finally reached the rocky summit, the sun had emerged! We dropped our packs and stood on the highest point to enjoy the incredible view. To the west and overhead was now clear, while the dark mass of clouds that had dropped over three inches of rain was being ushered quickly eastward by a stiff wind. As the trip planner, I could now breathe a sigh of relief that I had not dragged everyone up here only to spend a miserable wet night in the woods. Don't forget you can click on the pictures to see the full-screen version.

pre-departure

five minutes later

the top of the timp

Pepper's sixth (and possibly last) Timp trip

looks dangerous, donit?

We savored the view for awhile, then our group reassembled just below the peak to select suitable tent sites. Everyone took part in this process and since most of us had been through this routine before, it went without a hitch. Next, a few of us went off to seek the driest firewood available, while others went off to filter water. Camp chores done, we then made the short 100 foot walk back to the top to watch the beautiful sunset. I think everyone was glad that we hadn't called the whole trip off.

a view even a dog can appreciate

the water gathering ritual

Angela inspects the picture she just took

looking west from camp just after sunset

The wind was blowing something fierce. It doesn't take long for a gale to strip heat from one's body, so after watching the orb dip below the horizon, we once again retreated to the somewhat protected hollow where we had established camp. We prepared and ate our meal, cleaned up some of the dishes, then I summoned everyone back to the top of the mountain to view an an event which was about to take place in the sky over our heads. As I said, I am something of a science buff, so while surfing the net recently I stumbled upon a website where I discovered something called "iridium flares". Intrigued, I learned that there are at present 66 active communication satellites whose highly polished antennae reflect sunlight like giant mirrors in space and because of their fixed axis in relation to the earth's surface, it can also be predicted when and where this reflection can be observed and what level of magnitude (brightness) you can expect at any location on the globe. The flares first appear like a dim star that quickly becomes very bright, then just as quickly fades back to invisibility. The whole thing lasts only about 20 or 30 seconds so unless you are looking for it, chances are you will never notice one. While the trip was still in it's planning stage, I used google earth to determine the geographical coordinates of "The Timp", then plugged this information into the website that maintains the schedule for the flares. Fortunately, I found there was going to be not only one but TWO of them visible from our campsite on the Saturday night we would be there, spaced only four minutes apart! From our vantage point I knew we would have an unobstructed view of the sky as long as there was no cloud cover. So there we were, all eight of us casting our gaze to the north-northeast and focused on an area in the heavens between the star Polaris and the constellation Cassiopeia at precisely 7:44:52pm. As promised, the flares did indeed occur and we all got our first-ever viewing of this phenomenon, along with a little astronomy lesson.

Now it was time to set about the work of getting a fire going. As you might guess, this was no small task. Fortunately, Dave had the brilliant idea to grab a newspaper at lunchtime for the purpose of helping us to get the wet wood burning. It took longer than usual and a lot of coaxing, but eventually man prevailed over the elements and got the thing lit. We then sat for hours bathing in its radiant heat... talking, telling stories, sipping hot chocolate, and joking with one another. Eventually we used up all the wood and it was time to crawl into our sleeping bags for the night.

even drenched wood burns with enough coaxing

Normally my wife and I would prefer to sleep out under the stars on the summit since this was a clear, bugless night. However, the strong wind buffeting the treetops had not relented at all, and if anything, had increased. The tents were nestled in an area among trees and were surrounded on all sides by a twenty foot high ridge. The wind was so intense that even in this protected space it was causing the tent walls to flap noisily. This racket got progressively worse after midnight and peaked sometime around 3am. I know this because the tarp covering my hammock was making the most noise of all and woke me up repeatedly during the night. I am sure that there were gusts approaching 50mph at times. This was the trial run for my new shelter which I hoped would prove to be a good replacement for a tent. Except for the noisy fabric (which was only a factor because of the extreme wind conditions), the hammock passed the test with flying colors. Not only was I much more comfortable suspended above the hard ground, but I was also very warm ensconced in this cleverly designed cocoon. I would also bet that if I had tightened the guy lines that secure the tarp, I could have alleviated some of the snapping.

We awoke to a 40 degree sunny morning. The wind had subsided to about 15mph by daybreak. One by one we mustered the courage to slip out of our bags and brave the chilly air. We found a quiet spot in the lee of some rocks to boil water for our oatmeal breakfast. After that we broke camp and prepared for our return voyage to the parking lot. Before heading off, I whipped out my GPS device and sent the teenagers on a quest to find a geocache that someone else had hidden somewhere near the top of the mountain. For the uninitiated, "geocaching" is a hobby of sorts where people hide small containers and then place information about the stash on the internet. There is a website where you can find information about these hidden containers. You just put in the coordinates of any location and it gives you the latitude and longitude numbers for each nearby cache, who hid them, and a host of other interesting facts. It took the kids about ten minutes, but they located the one I had printed out for them to find. As is the custom, we were allowed to take one item from the box as long as we left one in exchange. Patrick claimed the red bandanna and offered a stick of gum as his swap. Not a fair trade in my opinion but who am I to judge? :-)

a crisp, clear, 40 degree Sunday morning

unquestionably the most colorful member of our group

leaving no trace

Finally underway just after noon, we followed the red-dot blazes that would lead us back down to the road by a different route. This trail took us over Bald Mountain where we paused for lunch around 1:30pm. The temperature had warmed up to around 60 by then, but the breeze made it feel much cooler, especially whenever the sun was blocked by a cumulus cloud, which seemed to be most of the time. Nevertheless, we enjoyed our break on a slab of rock which had actually become warm to the touch from absorbing the sun's rays all morning.

breaktime

We cleaned up so as to leave no trace of our presence there and continued along. Just a few minutes farther down the trail we came to a dramatic view from the edge of a cliff. Actually, only Dave and myself got to see the incredible sight because the others who were all ahead of us either didn't notice or opted to skip the little side trail that led to it. We had a awesome view of Bear Mountain Bridge and the upsteam waters of the Hudson for miles above it. Although some in our group were now complaining about the added distance back to the bottom, others among us were thoroughly enjoying this very scenic trail. There were many fine views to the east that are not afforded along the trail we came up on the day before.

my new wallpaper

our animule

Dave finally accepts that (pack) size DOES matter

pepper acting as chaperone

the ubiquitous cell phone: we had at least 7 among us

When we were about a mile and a half from the bottom, Dave and I were again lingering at a viewpoint when we were approached by a young woman who turned out to be a "trail angel". For those who have never heard of trail angels, they are people you meet along the way that offer some unexpected help. I don't think giving directions counts, but more tangible assistance like food or equipment would certainly qualify. In our case, we were coming down the mountain to a different spot along the road than where our vehicles were parked. This meant that at least one of us had to walk or jog along the road for about a mile to retrieve a car or truck. I had volunteered to do this since I was the one who had suggested this alternate route down. But now, as we neared the end of our journey, we were offered a ride by this friendly stranger. This would save our group about 30 minutes of waiting time. Multiplied by the number of our group (not including the dog) and this cumulatively saved us over four hours! Anyway, assisted by this angel I was able to shuttle my van back to the new parking lot before any of the others even got to the end of the trail, so there was no lost time at all.

All in all, it was another successful trip. As far as I could tell, everyone enjoyed themselves. Not only did we maintain a family tradition... but we also learned new things, tried out some new equipment, walked some new trails, and established some new relationships. My wife and I wish to thank all those who contributed to making this adventure what it was.

back down, safe and sound

The Water Gap Reprised

Perfect weather drew us out on the water again for the last weekend in September, 2007. This time we were accompanied by a couple of good friends and their dog who made the trip more fun than it would have been without them.

After scoping out a section of the Delaware River beginning at the Water Gap and running south to Easton, Pennsylvania, we opted instead to repeat essentially the same section we did last month. This enabled us to be more relaxed since we knew what to expect along the way, plus it gave us a chance to explore some of the islands that we didn't have time to visit on our last pass.

We enjoyed a leisurely breakfast at a small restaurant in a riverside village, then set about the business of shuttling our stuff and vehicles. Upon our arrival at our upstream put-in near Namanock Island access area on the New Jersey side, we unloaded the boats and left the girls to pack em up with all the gear while us guys made the 90 minute round-trip drive to place one car at the Kittatiny take out point. It was about 1pm when the five of us finally pushed off the bank and got underway.

the satellite view

The weather was as good as it gets... mid 70's, sunny, and low humidity. A nice breeze was at our backs which was an added bonus, as anyone who has ever had to paddle into a headwind can attest. The ultra-clear water reflected the dazzling sun which amplified the warming effect of the early fall rays. We were only a few minutes downstream when we began stripping off all but the minimum required clothing. It was definitely a sunscreen kinda day.

Something less than an hour after our departure we came to Dingman's Bridge. I had neglected to get a picture of this span on our last trip, so I made it a point to capture the image.

approaching Dingman's Bridge

our accomplices

I should mention that our cohorts are both stand-up comedians by trade. They kept us laughing the whole weekend. We were indeed privileged to have them along for entertainment.

the comedy duo of L & L

After a long afternoon of paddling, we were eager to find our perch for the night. It came not a moment too soon in the form of two adjacent free campsites, numbers 67 and 68. These are located on a portion of the river known as Walpack Bend which is a three mile stretch of mostly quiet water where the river reverses direction twice. The last time we passed through here, all of the thirty or so campsites along both banks were occupied. This time there were far less people on the water and since you can only access these sites by boat, there were several prime locations to pick from. This is an especially pretty part of the river.

a welcome site

We set up camp and ate a hearty meal, then sat around the fire for awhile toasting marshmallows. At least I was toasting them... what the others were doing could more accurately be described as burning them to a crisp. After our friends decided to hit the sack, my wife and I hit the local bar for a nightcap. Gravel bar that is, with a bottle of spring water for liquid refreshment. We walked out onto the stony peninsula with our camp chairs and plopped them down facing directly into the moonrise, which just happened to be occurring exactly downstream, which was the ONLY direction which afforded a view of a distant horizon. What amazing luck!

The next morning, someone woke our friend up in the middle of a dream and she responded by attacking the camera person with a deadly weapon. Had we known at the time that this woman was regional champion at long-distance slingshotting, we might have taken her more seriously. She demonstrated her talents later in the day by launching a vacant clamshell a phenomenal distance with impressive form and skill.

DWGNRA slingshot champ of 2007

The morning mist eventually burned off and revealed another clear-as-a-bell day. It was also revealed that some of us are more efficient at breaking camp than others.

happy family

I am quite sure that the pup had great time on our outing. She got to run wild and explore the whole area around our camp, she got to sleep INSIDE the tent ON the soft sleeping bags of her owners, and she didn't even have to get her feet wet when it was time to re-board her canoe.

daddy's got you baby

Although I never saw the mutt pick up a paddle the whole time, she DID contribute some labor... she performed dishwasher duty after dinner without complaint.

Having already navigated this river a month earlier, we were able to direct our friends into the shallowest portions of the stream whenever we needed some entertainment.

what's wrong with this picture?

Near the end of the journey, we all got a bit slaphappy. One of the looniest in our party introduced us to a new game. It is sort of a cross between ice hockey (without the ice) and mini-putt. Opponents use their paddles to whack a submerged golf ball toward a common goal while simultaneously preventing themselves from being carried downstream by the current. We spent a good part of half an hour trying to perfect our technique, but never succeeded in scoring a point. Maybe next time.

so close, yet so far

All good trips must come to an end, and this one was no exception. A short distance beyond the Interstate 80 span is where we took our boats out. Another ninety minute nascar-style shuttle and we were on our way home.

Thanks again L & L for being part of a fun-filled outdoor adventure.

the finish line... I-80

One Small Piece of the Delaware

Since we enjoyed ourselves so much on last Sunday's float down the Raritan, we decided to explore another area waterway this weekend. After some deliberating, a trip down the mighty Delaware River was selected. The weather forecast was favorable for both days, so this time we figured we could add camping into the mix. This trip was a bit longer (about 27 miles) and took us both Saturday and Sunday to complete. Since we would be spending an overnight in the woods, it naturally required a little more planning as well. One issue we faced was whether to drive two vehicles up there and do our own shuttling or hire one of the local rental outfits to take us and our boats upstream. At current gasoline prices, I calculated that it would cost $62 round-trip in fuel alone for the second vehicle, and after several telephone inquiries I discovered that it wouldn't be THAT much more to have someone else do the shuttle part.

We woke early and drove two hours up to Marshall's Creek, PA where we paid the $80 freight to have our two kayaks, our gear, and ourselves taken upstream to our selected put-in at Dingman's Ferry. We then drove back across the bridge to the Delaware Water Gap Visitor Center where we planned to end our journey, advised a ranger that we intended to leave our vehicle there overnight, and waited for our shuttle driver. We didn't yet know that there were already several other groups ahead of us and waiting too. When the shuttle van-trailer combo arrived a short while later there was no room for us. However, we were assured the next shuttle would be by in only 15 minutes. So we waited... and waited. After 30 minutes I called the company and was told that they were a little behind schedule because one of their trucks had gotten a flat tire. Uh huh. At the one-hour mark I was assured by the dispatcher that our driver's arrival was imminent. Right. We ended up waiting there an hour and a half in total. That was AFTER having to drive over to Pennsylvania, wait 30 minutes in line at their actual place of business to sign a stupid waiver form and remit our money, then drive back across to New Jersey to park. This is precisely what we had feared about relinquishing control of any part of our trip to one of these liveries that make their business renting watercraft to tourists and ferrying them to and from the local access points along the river. We expected to lose some time when we decided to play it this way, but we didn't figure it would cost us three whole hours. My advice to anyone contemplating this or a similar trip is shuttle yourself if you possibly can.

It was 2:00pm when we finally pushed off from the boat ramp at Dingman's. Our original plan was to split the 27 miles approximately in half. Our pre-trip research indicated that there were five campsites located on Depew Island which suited our plan well, but now with this late start we would have to adapt and just wait and see how far we got. We knew there were other campsites along the banks which were closer, but our driver told us while en-route to Dingman's that since all those sites are free and on a first-come-first-served basis, they would likely be snapped up early, especially on a Saturday. This was not at all what we wanted to hear. After the long wait we just encountered, that news was like rubbing salt in our wounds. He recommended stopping no later than 5:00pm to improve our odds at getting any site at all. That only gave us three hours! Well, we were here to have fun so we just let all that go and figured whatever happens, happens. We left all of our misgivings and aggravation on the shore and headed south with the current.

Once underway, our attitude adjustment was immediately helped along by gorgeous blue skies, a perfect-for-anything 78 degree summer day, and a 10mph tailwind. Life was suddenly good again! The water was clear enough to see the bottom to a depth of about six feet, which meant that most of the trip we had a good view of the rocky floor zooming by below us. There are deeper eddies here and there, but mostly the river is wide and fairly shallow. We even touched bottom two or three times on gravel bars, but never got stuck anywhere. We zipped along at what felt like a brisk pace and never paddled hard in an effort to "make up time".

One huge difference between this trip and the last one was the amount of people on the water. There are dozens of livery outfits up and down this river who (it would appear) make a killing renting out boats by the hundreds. I couldn't begin to count how many people we saw floating along with us. That's not to say it detracted from our enjoyment at all, even though both my wife and I normally prefer to seek our adventures well OFF the beaten path. The Delaware is plenty big for all who want to experience its charms, at least it was on THIS section, on THIS day, for US. Perhaps the heavy traffic could be a problem in other sections. I certainly wouldn't want to have to wait my turn to run through a rapid or sluice, but that never happened on this trip. Then again, maybe it was because by the time WE came along, everyone had already quit for the day to claim their free campsite?

Speaking of rapids, there are many on this stretch of river but none rated higher than class I+. The guidebook says that this section is suitable for people with little or even no paddling experience. Since neither my wife nor I have a desire to run real whitewater in our kayaks, we felt this section would be a nice relaxing choice. The longer riffles and choppy sections, combined with the occasional two foot standing waves, still managed to quicken our pulse as we traversed them even though we have had our boats out on open bays in much more challenging situations. Don't forget that you can click on the pictures to enlarge them.

hunger pangs reminding us to eat

After two hours on the water we began to think about food. It was already four o'clock and well past the time we had planned to stop for lunch. All we had eaten since breakfast at 8:00am was one tomato each. Our food bag was stored in one of our hatches so we pulled up side-by-side in the middle of the stream and dug it out. We decided that rather than stopping and losing time eating on the riverbank, we would just eat in our boats while drifting with the current. So, apart from an occasional stroke here and there to keep ourselves aimed downstream, we did just that. It was actually quite comfortable, perhaps even more so than what we would have found ashore.

a capable pair at rest

Around 5:30pm we had made it a good 13 miles and all the way through "Walpack Bend" which is a giant S-curve in the river where it reverses direction twice. This bend adds a full three miles to the length of the river. We had made it much farther than we expected after that late start and had somehow managed to make up all that time without even trying. I suspect the tailwind was responsible. We could have even made it to our original target, Depew Island, but there was some question as to whether the campsites there had been obliterated in last year's flood. Without knowing for sure what awaited us downstream, we decided to take the next open site on the riverbank IF we were fortunate enough to find one unoccupied. Every site we had passed up to this point was taken so we had our doubts. But sure enough, a mile or so later we came upon a group of sites on the New Jersey side, saw an open one, and claimed it by beaching our craft on the adjacent shore. The next boater came along only two minutes later and took the site next to us which I believe was the last one available in this group of twelve sites, so we felt somewhat fortunate to get what we got.

stairway to heaven

The campsites in this area are on a shelf of land which is a short but nearly vertical twenty-foot climb up from the water. Ours had makeshift steps carved into the densely packed soil, as well as some exposed tree roots to grab onto that made the trip up and down a bit easier. We transported all of our camping and cooking gear up the hill and set up the tent. It is surprising how much stuff fits in the hatches of our kayaks. We brought a three-person tent, two sleeping bags, FOUR full-sized sleeping pads (in case we ended up having to sleep on a stony surface), a camp stove, a two-quart pot, an extra bottle of stove fuel, two Nalgene bottles, a water filter, miscellaneous items of clothing, a bunch of safety equipment (bilge pump, PFD, etc.), and many, many smaller items (plates, bowls, utensils, flashlights, camera, guidebook, toilet paper, a collection of personal items, etc). ALL of this fit inside the yaks except for one sleeping pad each and my wife's camp chair (and of course the PFDs which have to be easily accessible if they are not worn). We had pre-loaded the boats with all this gear before we left home which added maybe 15-20 pounds to each and made putting them on the roofracks a two-person job, but at least we didn't have to deal with all that at the put-in site. When we were back in the parking lot at the visitor center and everybody was loading their stuff onto the trailer (we were being shuttled along with several other people who were doing the same route as us but were using rented canoes), it was almost comical watching the other boaters haul their heavy coolers and seemingly endless garbage bags of equipment and supplies to the trailer. As the shuttle driver and I put our two boats on his racks he asked, "Where's all your stuff?" My normal joking self would have feigned naivety and replied, "What stuff?", but since the long wait was anything BUT funny, I wasn't in a joking mood.

flat, dry, tastefully appointed, and private... no complaints

But that was then and this was now. Our camp was high and dry and very comfortable. The site was private enough -- only our neighbors to the north were even visible -- and the view from our perch overlooking the river was very pretty. We sat and stuffed ourselves with a wonderful pasta meal as the last light of the day shimmered off the water's surface. A few paddlers were still straggling by, no doubt desperately searching the banks for any sign of a suitable camp. Certainly all the "official" sites were gone by now and they would have to make-do with something less. I have been there and done that on previous trips, so I am well acquainted with what they were feeling. After a bit of cleanup and organizing things around camp, we sat quietly for a few minutes to savor the feeling of accomplishment. We were both exhausted and had eaten too much so we decided to forgo exploring our surroundings and were instead comfortably ensconced in our warm sleeping bags by 9:00pm.

part of the view from inside our tent

check out those cool shoes!

check out these even COOLER shoes!

The morning brought with it an overcast sky, and it even sprinkled briefly while we were still lounging in our tent. Maybe it will clear up as the day progresses we thought as we casually reviewed the guidebook, memorizing which route to take around each island we would encounter on the remaining portion of our journey. We eventually got up, prepared and ate the oatmeal we had brought for breakfast (quick and easy is the rule we follow when deciding what foods to take with us on camping trips), and then began to pack our stuff back in the boats. Most of the other campers around us had already left by the time we hit the water trail again. When I checked the forecast the night before we came up here, it called for a partly cloudy day with no rain expected until late Sunday night, but the sky suggested that rain was coming sooner than that. How much sooner was the question but we were not gonna worry about that now. It would have been easy to add a poncho to our caboodle, but silly me believed the weather experts and decided to omit that piece of equipment on this trip. Lesson learned. As it turned out, there were only a few spritzes during the course of the day and thankfully the real rain held off until after we were finished and on our way home.

on the "road" again

We enjoyed the second day of leisurely paddling and even stopped a few times to explore islands, including Depew where we had intended to camp. It was a good thing that we camped where we did because we did not find any good spots here, although we didn't completely circumnavigate it so we may have missed something on the eastern shore. Still, from what we DID see on our twenty-minute recon, it looked like the flood had taken its toll on this little piece of high ground in the middle of the river. There were piles of debris wherever strainers had been created by the raging flow. One could sleep here in a pinch, but there are much better spots to spend the night.

P B & J anyone?

We stopped for lunch at a small park along the Pennsylvania side called Smithfield Beach. There are picnic tables, a guarded swimming area, and restrooms available here, and since we arrived by boat we avoided the fee charged at the gate to use those facilities. There were a few little kids skipping stones from the shore when we pulled up and they were curious about our boats and our journey. After some friendly questions and answers, I charged them with the task of keeping an eye on our boats while we ate since they would be out of our field of vision.

target acquired... fire when ready!

There is a three-mile long stretch of quiet water upstream from this park that (according to the guidebook) is popular with motor boaters. We only saw one while passing through this section. There is a string of buoys to keep the motorized craft away from the paddlers. Downstream from the park we passed several more islands that looked worthy of exploration, but we left that for another day. We cruised past Worthington State Forest Campground on the eastern shore. At one point there were several unseen kids making very loud and realistic animal sounds from somewhere along the heavily-wooded bank. We mused that this must be where the famous Delaware Water Gap Zoo is located. Eventually we made our way into the actual "gap". This is a very picturesque spot with mountains rising up dramatically on either side of the river. The well trodden Appalachian Trail passes through this notch, and in previous years I have had the pleasure of hiking and camping along that trail in both directions from where I sat now. It's quite a different thing to see the gap from the vantage point of floating through it and I feel blessed to have experienced both now.

the I-80 span

It was with some measure of sadness that we came ashore for the last time, marking the end of this adventure. It was also another thoroughly enjoyable trip from start to finish, assuming we could forget that livery fiasco, which was much easier to do now that we had accomplished our mission. It took only fifteen minutes to empty our boats and load everything on the Jeep. As we pulled out on to eastbound I-80, we were already looking forward to the next trip.

the infamous Delaware Water Gap