MOSQUITO CREEK

 

Christy and I spent the Memorial Day weekend with her family in Pennsylvania this year.  Our main purpose was to run some wedding-related errands, but it left some time for hiking and relaxing.  I took advantage of the opportunity to hike in one of my favorite areas, the Quehanna Plateau.

 

We left Charlotte Thursday afternoon and escaped Nascar traffic without much difficulty.  An improvised detour on route 100 from Hillsville, Virginia, to I-81 helped us avoid construction traffic on 77.  It may not have been any faster, but it was certainly more scenic than staring at an endless line of 18-wheelers.  We had McDinner near Roanoke, and endured a downpour that would’ve inspired Noah to make a trip to Home Depot a few thousand years ago. 

 

We were in northern Virginia before we had to stop for gas.  We stopped at the world’s largest Sheetz, which combined the usual gas station and convenience store with a truck stop, a donut shop, a shopping mall, and, I think, a hotel.  In case you’re wondering, Sheetz is a gas station chain that is rapidly rendering 7-11 obsolete.  So anyway, you might say that we got off the interstate for a giant Sheetz.  Later, we passed a Sheetz that was located next door to a large church.  I like to think of it as a Holy Sheetz.

 

We survived the rest of the drive to Clearfield, and finished our errands on Friday.  On Saturday, we headed to Christy’s parent’s camp located on the First Fork of the Sinnemahoning River.  I took the scenic route getting there though.  I got up early that morning and headed out while everyone else was still asleep.  My plan was to hike on the Quehanna Plateau and meet everyone else that afternoon.

 

I stopped at the Sheetz’s in Clearfield for a coke and Krispy Kreme (breakfast of champions!).  When I pulled in, I counted 7 cars hauling canoes.  If it hadn’t been for a lack of coffee shops and outfitting stores, I might’ve thought I was in Ely, Minnesota, for all the canoes.  I guess it was a crowded weekend on the Susquehana River.  It wouldn’t be where I was headed though.  I never see anyone on the Quehanna Trails.

 

I parked at the state forest service office, which was closed for the weekend.  It was actually cold at the trailhead, as temperatures were in the 30’s the night before.  The forecast was only for temperatures in the 60’s, which sounded fabulous after several weeks in the 90’s back home.

 

Saucony and I headed out under a blue sky and followed a dirt road until we reached the Mosquito Creek Trail.  We turned onto faint, blue blazed path and headed deep into the woods.  We descended to cross a small stream, before following a ridge through an open forest thick with ferns.  After some distance, we crossed a series of meadows without a hint of a trail.  Somehow I always found the path at the other end, and eventually we reached a gated dirt road.  We followed this down to a ford of Mosquito Creek.

 

This is a beautiful spot, as the valley is lush but open.  I was hiking only a hundred miles or so from Pine Creek Gorge, which is known as the Grand Canyon of Pennsylvania.  That may be a stretch, but if Pine Creek can claim that comparison, I don’t see any reason why I can’t describe the Quehanna area as the Yellowstone of Pennsylvania.  It’s full of deep forests, open meadows, ponds, and streams.  Wildlife is plentiful, including Elk, Deer, and Bear, but people are not.  Of course, there aren’t any geysers, hot springs, or thundering waterfalls, but if there were it wouldn’t be such a perfect place to get away from the crowds on a holiday weekend. 

 

Saucony had a swim in the creek before we hiked on.  We climbed away from the stream, only to turn off the road at a poorly marked turn.  The blue blazes continued, which was fortunate, as there was no sign of an actual path at all.  I wandered through waist high ferns as I descended to a cascading stream.  I followed it downstream, following the blazes and the map in lieu of an actual trail.  Along the way I spotted dozens of Pink Ladies Slippers, which were still in bloom.  Finally I reached Mosquito Creek again, and followed it upstream to a sturdy bridge.  I crossed the creek to a large, flat rock, which proved to be an ideal lunch spot.

 

It was along here that I discovered how the creek got its name.  At first I thought the swarms of flying insects were mosquitoes (another Yellowstone comparison!), but they turned out to be only gnats.  Still, they were extremely annoying as they crawled all over me.  They also chewed Saucony up, but I didn’t realize that until we got to camp. 

 

I followed the Bridge Trail upstream after lunch.  The creek is lovely, as it cascades beneath scattered stands of trees in thick ferns.  The Bridge Trail was even more obscure than the Mosquito Creek Trail, but I continued to bushwhack upstream.  Luckily, I spotted a blue blaze right where the alleged path turned steeply up and away from the creek.  I waded through blueberry bushes, and reached a huge meadow looking out over the valley.

 

I crossed the meadow and plunged through another dark forest before reaching the Quehanna Cross Connector Trail.  The Quehanna Trail makes a 74-mile loop around the plateau, which is ideal for longer backpacking trips.  The two Cross Connector Trails bisect the loop, allowing for several shorter trips.  Today I planned to follow the western connector back to the main road, which I would walk to return to my car.

 

The connector trails are more heavily traveled, and it was a nice change to hike a path with an actual tread.  I wandered down to the open, marshy valley of Beaver Run, which I crossed on a boardwalk.  A few minutes later I reached a pond, and startled a pair of Herons.  I hiked around the pond, and passed a group of backpackers.  This was my third hike in the area, all on holiday weekends, and this was the first time I’d seen another person. 

 

I worked my way around the far side of the lake.  The trail here was a boggy mess, and I was glad I had treated my boots before the trip.  I was sloshing through the marsh when I finally saw the first deer of the hike.  A few minutes later I spotted another, but the elk didn’t make an appearance.  I passed a mailbox, where I signed the trail register.  From there, it was only a short distance out to the road.  Saucony and I walked over a mile on the road to close the loop and return to the car.

 

It was late in the afternoon after my 10-mile hike.  I drove down to camp, where we relaxed for the rest of the weekend.  I spent most of the rest of the weekend relaxing in Christy’s hammock, which I hung right next to the creek.  The rest of the weekend was spent eating.  The feasting included steaks, burgers, hot dogs, and all sorts of sweets.  My only other attempt at exercise was a 4-mile run through Sinnemahoning State Park.  That was worthwhile, but it hardly compensated for my diet over those 2 days.

 

We headed back to Clearfield Sunday night, and counted 12 deer on the drive home.  We left for Charlotte the next morning, and endured the usual hideous driving on I-81.  The low point of the drive came in Altoona.  Christy wanted coffee, and it had to come from a Sheetz.  We spotted a sign for a Sheetz on the interstate and took the exit.  After a couple of lights, Christy made a U-turn to get to the store.  She didn’t realize that the road she was heading for was one-way, so we had to go down and make another U-turn just to get back to the same intersection.  This time she turned left, and managed to make it into the parking lot, only to discover that the building was still under construction and the store wasn’t open yet.  We had just spent 10 minutes making a series of U-turns, with nothing to show for it.  Why did they have the sign up if they weren’t even open yet?  What a Dumb Sheetz.




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