Encounters with Animals: Seagull Alpha at Kinzua Dam, September 2012

I've seen bears, rattlesnakes, eagles, and hawks, but I've never been attacked by them. Alpha was different.

In September 2012 I spent a rainy day exploring part of north central Pennsylvania with my friend Judy. As part of our travels we drove to Kinzua Dam and the lake it created. The dam itself is an impressive piece of engineering, spanning the Allegheny River with one of the largest structures of its kind east of the Mississippi. Canoeing on the lake is a wish I never manage to get fulfilled, sadly, even though I've been in the area a few times.

Canoeing wasn't in our plans today either. Time was short and I was still fatiguing far too soon. So we walked and took photos. I must have tripped some invisible security alarm at the dam, for no sooner did I take out the camera and start snapping away than I was accosted by security.

The bird didn't say a word. Being a seagull and not a parrot, I wasn't surprised. But I was shocked at how seriously the avian agent took its job. The sign at the dam's gated, secure area said "Force Protection Level: Alpha", so I took that to be the seagull's name. Alpha shot me a dirty look and made gull noises at me. Not planning to trespass and assuming the gull would understand my intentions, I stood my ground taking photos. And then this happened.

Judy kept her distance, documenting the encounter. Not wanting to be strafed by the gull again, I retreated. As I did I had a bad flashback to Sea Isle City, New Jersey three decades ago, and my youngest brother getting hit by a rock he'd thrown to a passing seagull. That gull was just doing beach patrol. Who knew what this bird was carrying? I wasn't going to find out. 

Kinzua Dam is worth visiting. And worth photographing. Just keep in mind security watches over it from the air. Respect them. Don't fall afoul of the fowl.

Hikes in Pine Creek Gorge, September 2012

The photo above should look familiar to readers of A Taste For The Woods. Its from a series of hikes I undertook in Pine Creek Gorge in September 2012. And its from the shortest of them, since the hike was a short distance from my campsite. How is that for a morning view?

But back to the start. In September I headed to Grand Canyon of Pennsylvania to hike, ride, and take photographs. Rather than stay at either of the two state campgrounds on either side of the northern end of the canyon, Colton Point or Leonard Harrison, I obtained a camping permit for the Tioga State Forest and set up at Bradley Wales Picnic Area. Bradley Wales was one of the best places to camp I've ever been to. True, there is no running water, and its 20 miles of forest roads from the main highway, but there's a cistern pump, and a building with chemical toilets. And a quarter mile away was the Bradley Wales Vista, accessible by the bumpy forest road. On my first morning at the campsite I was lucky to arrive just as the clouds were breaking up. Anyone who has tried to photograph in a Pennsylvania gorge knows that the early morning is for cloud studies, but here at a quarter after 8 AM the clouds were parting.

I was soon joined by a young man with a better camera and steadier nerves. He climbed up the dew-slicked fence and began shooting hundreds of feet above the canyon floor. I told myself if I were twenty years younger and 100 pounds lighter and were wearing Vibram Five Finger shoes I'd be up on that railing too. However, I didn't believe it any more than you do now. I contented myself with shooting him against the fog; the image reminds me of Caspar David Friedrich's painting "Wanderer Above The Sea of Fog", which I've included via a link to a file at Wikipedia. Once the young man climbed down from his perch we chatted about photography, and he showed me other nearby places to shoot. We both left as the clouds broke up and the sun climbed in the sky.

That short hike was followed by a slightly longer one near the north end of the west side of the canyon. The Barbour Rock Trail is a mile hike to an overlook that's unfortunately getting very overgrown. I was there in 2010 and its amazing how much less of a view there was this time. I tried, even climbing down past the wooden fence to get some down the cliff photos of the gorge, but still, the shooting wasn't good. The hike itself, however, is pleasant, passing through the woods and over ground that seemed free from the usual rocks one finds on a Pennsylvania trail. One interesting aspect of the trail is that it's split. The state forest, which is responsible for the trail, put down a layer of crushed stone to create a surface suitable for a wheelchair with oversized tires. You can see the split in the trail below. For my hike I took the left trail and returned on the ADA trail, which meant 1.2 miles of a hike/walk. 

Last of the hikes was a 2 mile search for an overlook on what the book 50 Hikes in Central Pennsylvania called "the Refuge Trail". The trail is located about halfway between Bradley Wales and Route 6, on the series of switchbacks the forest road takes to get around Little Slate Run. While the hike itself was pleasant and not too strenuous, once again the promised overlooks were missing. The photo is the best I found, but one cannot see the opposing forest for the trees. That's supposed to be Colton Point in the distance. Had I felt like scrambling down a slope through the pine trees, I might have had a better view. Still, it was a great hike, one I felt good about and one that tested my new joints and new motivation.  Also, Pine Creek Gorge always sets my soul at peace; I can think of no better place to have a taste for the woods.

Pine Creek Rail Trail, September 2012

In September I spent time hiking, riding, and camping in Tioga and Elk Counties. During my time up north in Tioga I spent a morning riding part of the Pine Creek Rail Trail with my friend Judy. She'd never been to the trail, or to this part of PA, and so we rode ten miles on my favorite 'introduction' stretch - from just north of Ansonia to past Four Mile Run and back. I feel this ride gives a person a taste of the canyon and the 64 mile trail, and has some attractive views.

We started at Darling Run Trailhead, just inside the canyon, and headed south. The canyon was beautiful, as I've always found it to be. But Four Mile Run was a trickle, as unfortunately I've always found it to be. (I need to visit in the spring, not after a dry summer.) Judy seemed to enjoy the trail almost as much as I do. She brought her camera, and as she's a better photographer than I am I'm using some of her photos in this post.

Considering I'd been riding infrequently I felt pretty good on my bike. It was too small, I was stiff, and I took five minutes to get going at Darling because I missed the right pedal a couple of time and got frustrated, but once underway the ride was easy. I had to work to keep up with Judy, but then I'm used to that. Spending three days camping and hiking in the gorge and surrounding area had me in a great mood, and the ride only added to it.

Just past Four Mile Run we encountered a group of riders staring at a porcupine crossing the trail. And crossing it again and again. Judy and I had the same thought as we watched the creature stagger - "Rabies." One of the group decided to hike up the Turkey Trail, which runs alongside Four Mile Run up to the overlook at Leonard Harrison State Park, and contact the park staff so they could send an animal control officer. I didn't see that panning out, but its what people wanted to do. Meanwhile the group of riders decided to 'time' their passing the porcupine when he was at the side of the trail and thus away from them. Judy and I turned around and headed out of the canyon.

We continued north, past the confluence of Pine and Marsh Creeks, past the church at Ansonia, and over the bridge at the equestrian trailhead. It was a good ten miles for the both of us. Once we'd packed up the bikes we headed up to Colton Point State Park to the main overlook, so Judy could see the canyon from above, and see where she just rode an hour before. I could have stayed all day at Colton, but Judy and I were off to the next stop on our itinerary, Hicks Run in Elk County, and we had to be going. I know I will be back to Pine Creek Gorge and the Pine Creek Rail Trail, and I'm sure Judy will be back too.

Clarion/Little Toby Trail

In September I took time off to camp, hike, and ride in Tioga and Elk Counties. I needed to be away from the city and in touch with nature. One of the best experiences from the eight days I was in the woods was riding a portion of the Clarion/Little Toby Trail. The rail trail starts in Ridgway and runs along the Clarion River until the confluence with the Little Toby Creek, when it turns and tracks along the smaller stream to the town of Brockway. It had been on my short list of trails to ride for years.

My friend Judy and I stated from the Brockway trailhead and rode six miles to the swinging bridge over Little Toby Creek.   The trail surface was crushed stone, as is common on Western PA rail trails, and appeared to be well-maintained. The scenery wasn't mountainous, but it was pretty, with the leaves beginning to change from green to the riot of fall.

 I don't know how long the wire and wood swinging bridge has hung over Little Toby Creek, but it appears to be well-used. I tested it, but first getting to the bridge tested me. The short walk down from the trail was steeper than I was used to, and then there was this step.... (The rest of the photos in this blog post are by Judy, who is a better photographer than I am.)

It took me about five minutes to figure out a way up that step. I finally saw no way but to tackle it as I normally would - which meant applying my entire body weight on one foot - and through one knee. And guess what? It worked. My muscles in my left leg and back got a workout, but I got up the step. 

Now to cross the Little Toby. Did I mention I have a fear of heights?

The far side of the bridge has an overgrown picnic area and what looks like bushwacked hiking trails. I didn't explore them. Perhaps another day. So Judy and I crossed again. Feel free to imagine whatever metaphors you see in my journey across the bridge.






























We called it a day at this point.  My stamina was a lot less than before I was operated on, and I was afraid riding further down the trail would mean I'd not have the strength to get back. The ride back to the car in Brockway was slow but uneventful. I was tired, but glad I'd been out.