On the Appalachian Trail - 2

All pictures along the Appalachian Trail from the NJ PA terminus to Sunfish Pond.

As piecemeal explorations of the Appalachian Trail (AT) in NJ continue, here are some notes from the hike for future reference. This time, we (my wife and I) decided to explore the northbound AT from the NJ/PA state border (near the Delaware Water Gap National Recreation Area) leading to Sunfish Pond – a trek of about 3.7 miles and climb of about 1380 feet (a good map here). Most of the trail goes through the Worthington State Forest (a parcel of about 6000 acres of wooded forest that the state of NJ bought from the Worthington family in 1954). 

Car parking is relatively easy: Proceed on Interstate 80 westbound about 3 miles past Exits 4A/B/C, stay in the right lane and take the rest area exit on the right. Continue on the service road down past the rest area, and up an entrance ramp as if to re-enter Interstate 80 westbound. Turn right from the ramp before it re-enters Interstate 80 into Dunnfield Parking Area. Remember to enter the second parking lot. The first lot leads to the Tammany trail to Mount Tammany (a 1250 ft. climb). The second lot directly leads to the Appalachian Trail. 

The Dunnfield creek running parallel to the AT for the first 20 minutes of the trek and it presents waterfalls, a steel bridge, great views and sounds of falling water. The creek is said to contain trout and there is a limit of two per angler for those with fishing aspirations. The deepest point seems to be 8 feet and swimming is allowed. The early morning spring air was fresh and crackled with the sounds of many birds whose names we did not really know but would have loved to find out. About 40% of the trek involves lots of ‘heads down’ hiking because of the profusion of small to medium sized rocks and stones that have been used to pave the AT. In some cases, the trail volunteers cleverly used natural rock formations that wind up and down in exquisite ways to build the trail. Most of the climbing is aided along by wooden steps built of timber and locked in place onto the trail with spikes and mini piles. Most of the climbing levels out by the time one reaches the red-blazed Holy Springs Trail crossing the AT. Holy Springs Trail lies roughly in the middle between the parking lot and the Sunfish Pond. An hour after the Holly Springs Trail and more moderate climbing, one comes across Backpacker Site 2 (for those considering camping, this might be the best place to camp for ‘through hikers’ as camping is not permitted along any other areas of the Worthington State Forest). The campsite is located just across the blue-blazed Douglas Trail which heads off to the left from the AT (for northbound hikers). The views are not too exciting, but one manages glimpses of the heavily wooded ridge of the 1500 foot Mount Tammany every once in a while to the right. The hike from Douglas Trail to Sunfish pond involves a little more climbing (no sharp gradients). 

Sunfish pond is a 41 acre glacial pond leftover from the last ice age. According to the National Park Service, the lake is one of fourteen rock-basin lakes between the Delaware Water Gap and the Kittatinny Ridge. Camping is not allowed near the lake. The views are stunning as one follows the AT along the western shore of the lake with multiple lookout points to sit, relax and enjoy water views. We ran into a grey haired couple who were celebrating their 35th wedding anniversary by climbing up to the lake using the Garvey Spring Trail. During conversations, they reminisced that their home was a madhouse until their four children left and now it seems as quiet as a library. The lady mentioned that she misses the children while her husband told us that he prefers the ‘library’ phase. Interesting how we are genetically programmed. We told them that we have two boys and we were preparing for the ‘madhouse’ phase. It is a great feeling when one runs into committed families living together for 35 years without running into the usual visitations of divorce, remarriage, step relatives and the associated angst. We had lunch by the edge of the pond (store baked turkey, pepperjack cheese slices on wheat bread and blue colored mountain berry flavored Powerade). A sign near the lake said that the lake has pumpkinseed sunfish and yellow perch. The sign also said that the lake is acidic in nature and not many other species of fish survive in the water. Watch out for snakes. We counted at least three snakes along the pond. One of them – a black scaled snake (probably a northern black racer snake) about four feet long – was sunning itself along a floating branch that had fallen into the water and did not seem to care for us too much. There is a monument erected by the US Department of the Interior in 1970 that designates the lake as a registered natural landmark. We wondered what happens after one of these designations… We are guessing not too much, but one could be wrong. 

We retraced our steps back to the parking lot after spending about an hour by the lake. We said hello to an old lady, her son and a shaggy Labrador who had decided to take a bath in Dunnfield Creek near the base of the trail. This section of the trail is popular amongst a wide range of adventure seekers ranging from the wiry health nuts who seem to race up the trail to families who seem to be leisurely strolling along as if for a weekend walk. An interesting encounter involved us running into a couple of South Asian youth who seemed to a little lost on the trail (one of them was even sporting a maroon evening jacket and looked like he was headed out to a restaurant – a most incongruous sight indeed). They were about fifteen minutes from the parking lot and we told them that Sunfish pond was a couple of hours upfront. They balked at the amount they had to climb to reach a place where (in their words) they could ‘stretch out and relax’ and seemed to promptly head back. 

Part I here. 

On the Appalachian Trail - 1

The planned hike to cover the Appalachian Trail (AT) in NJ turned out to be a complete disaster. New hiking shoes whose soles separated, a bad knee joint that acted up and an unnaturally humid day that seemed to sap all of our energies plotted to make the hike a non starter.

What originally was planned by my brother and me to be a two day hike over about 70 miles with a sleepover at the midway location of High Point, NJ ended after about 18 miles into the trek on the afternoon of the first day. Well, we tried – and learned.

Raring to get as early as possible to the trailhead, we started off by cajoling the family to drop us off at the start point of the trail – located at the NY/NJ border. Starting at 6 in the morning, we started the hike by taking the 1.5 mile steep section of the blue blazed State Line Trail from the town of Lakeside in West Milford, NJ onto the top of Bearfort Mountain in the Abram S. Hewitt State Park.

The early morning walk up the mountain was especially breathtaking – the sun behind the trees, a bit of that hazy mist that surrounds damp trees in the morning, the birds just waking up and the occasional crack of dry branches in the distance signaling that startled deer. About 45 minutes into that climb, we spotted the white blazed Appalachian Trail at the NY/NJ state line. It was a mixture of emotions – elation at finally having reached the AT and a feeling that this was just the beginning of a long haul.

The trail itself was very well marked, the white blazes leading logically from one to the other with double blazes signifying a change of trail direction. Crossing split log bridges, woody roads, logs over intermittent streams, plank bridges over swamps and moss covered paths, we took in all that nature and the trail had to offer us that morning. We also noticed that the trail was slowly ascending gradually - up the Wawayanda Mountain. Named by the Lenape Indians, it means ‘winding waters’ and it tops off at about 1400 feet. In between, we stopped for a quick bite at Double Kill stream under an 1800's era iron bridge. Beauty. We also managed to get some water here before we resumed climbing the Wawayanda Mountain.

The views from the top of the mountain was moderate – nothing spectacular, but marked a little bit by a slight change in the nature of the vegetation around us – giving more ground to shorter and sturdier needle based woods than the sturdy hemlocks, white pines, balsam firs and spruces lower down. We also noticed large solitary rocks, the size of small trucks every once in a while, seemingly left there by a giant hand. These were remnants of the last ice age when glaciers carried these rocks downstream. Their current location must have been determined when certain sections of the retreating glacier melted faster than other portions, leaving large rocky detritus behind like isolated droppings of another age.
If climbing the mountain was difficult, descent was doubly so. The steep nature of the descent and the extremely rocky section of the trail were fairly hard on the knees and progress was very slow. In between, my brand new hiking shoes seemed to come apart at the soles (not too sure how this came to be as I got this from the supposedly venerable ‘Tent and Trails’ store in Manhattan - a store that I will never go to again).

The descent took about an hour, and the view on looking back at the now towering Wawayanda Mountain was especially beautiful. We felt in awe of the fact that we had managed to scale and descend our first peak in under 4 hours. Maybe we should have stopped and rested for a while at this point, but enthusiasm got the better of us and we decided to press on in spite of the complaining knee.

The scene in front of us was postcard perfect, Vernon valley and private farmlands were nestled between the Pochuck mountains upfront and Wawayanda behind. Most of the valley was covered with large wavy switchblade like grass overgrown with ferns, white / red sumac, buttonbush and violets. Along the long gravel path that led from the mountain base, we met a northbound thru-hiker who was on his way to Maine from Georgia. He went by the trail name Kit and said that this was his 105th day on the trail. We exchanged pleasantries and he seemed a bit taken aback that we were attempting the distance we planned in one day.

Vernon valley is basically swampy lowland and most of the trail over this section consists of intermittent wooden boardwalks built about 4 feet off the swamp surface. Years of flooding and vegetative growth along the Wallkill River on its way to join the Hudson created the Pochuck swamp over thousands of years. The floor of the swamp seemed mushy, soft and was covered with a rich, dark, brownish-black soil. The swamp itself was carpeted by a six feet high blanket of violets, yellow bellworts, poinsettias, daisies and a profusion of red flowers whose name I cannot seem to dredge. By this time, the afternoon sun was taking its toll and instead of stopping to rest, we decided to push on. I also remember reading that the boardwalk construction over the Pochuck swamp (also called Pochuck Quagmire) was one of the most expensive construction projects undertaken by the AT conservancy. The highlight of the walk across the swamp was a 14 foot high suspension bridge over the Pochuck Creek, whose foundation is said to float over the bog to make way for the shifting water and vegetation patterns.

It was about 12 noon when we decided to climb the 1100 foot Pochuck Mountain. The mountain was created out of billion year old rock and is scarred with ridges scraped from vestiges of the last ice age. The slope up the mountain was steep, unforgiving and beautiful. In between the climb, we caught sight of a baby deer who seemed to be fearlessly surveying us from behind the dense undergrowth. I also ran into our first rattlesnake along the way – I had decided to rest awhile and had just laid the backpack down on the forest floor when I heard an urgent clearing from the brush – and chanced on a snake about two feet long. We sized up each other for about 30 seconds before it decided to go along its way apparently deciding that I did not mean much harm.

After a little more climbing, we stopped for lunch (bread and meats) halfway up the mountain and I could feel my knee telling me that I will need to exercise better before trying anything of this magnitude in the near future. The rocks digging through the exposed sole of my left foot also was not really helping the situation. I remember cursing the lower Manhattan store multiple times. About this time, I decided that maybe we should call it a day and ask for help from the family in picking us right after we cross this mountain. It did turn out to be a wise decision.

The climb up Pochuck mountain was grueling, but the vistas on the summit was worth the effort. Wawayanda State Park and distant towns were tiny specks in the distance that was essentially covered in a maze of green that seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see. The distant reservoirs and the occasional lake reflected the brilliant blue of a cloudless bare Saturday sky. By this time, it was clear that we could not proceed any longer with my knee and the slipshod shoe. We asked for the family to come by and 'rescue' us from a designated point at the base of the mountain.

Descents are much harder than ascends for me and the descend down the especially steep Pochuck mountain was no exception. When one is tired, one does not seem to notice the beauty around the trail anymore – you just want to get to the next stop for whatever might be planned in terms of an end to the adventure. This was our condition on the way down. We however did stop a bit to heroically take a couple of pictures, but it was a feeble effort at maintaining a semblance of normalcy. On the way down, we ran into a 60 year old thru hiker who went by the trail name of Papa Rose. An interesting character, he offered several tips on finding water sources on the way ahead, and even mentioned that the mayor of the next town (Unionsville) was a kindly man who takes in hikers for the night at his home. We told him that this was valuable information, but we were calling it quits for the day.

In retrospect, we chewed off more than we could handle for a day. I also found out that hiking any more than 10-12 miles on the AT in a single day is inviting trouble, burnout and extreme stress on ones knees. Come to think of it, we had hiked about 18 miles in under 9 hours and ascended and descended 2 steep 1000 footers along the way. Nope, not a recommended idea, but at least we have a flavor for what lies in store ahead for future ‘section hikes’ across the trail. The plan still remains - section hike the trail end to end - even if it takes years - completion will happen at some point - cobbling a couple of days off from work every once in a while – cajoling family to pitch in – completing the trail wizened and intelligent.

The best part of the hike happened at the very end when my wife, her sister and my brother-in-law drove for a couple of hours to ‘rescue’ us on a fairly remote road (Lake Wallkill Road near the town of Owens, NJ). On thanking them for the effort mustered at short notice, their only response was ‘Hey, that’s what families are for…”

Catching the first of the white blazes

The NY/NJ state line demarcated by the State Line Trail

Across a wood bridge at the foothills of the Wawayanda Mountain

An intermittent stream blocked by what seemed like a beaver dam

View from the top of Wawayanda Mountain

Looking back at Wawayanda

The trail ahead leading to Pochuck Swamp and Pochuck Mountain in the distance

Vernon Valley

The greens of Vernon Valley

Wooden boardwalk across Pochuck swamp bordered with wildflowers

Wildflowers

Pochuck Swamp

Moss along the trail

Rattlesnake (?) - not sure...

View from the top of Pochuck Mountain

The skies above Wallkill River National Wildlife Refuge

R n' R

Amidst a five day holiday which included entertaining the children at the Bronx Zoo in New York, water parks in other states and the Jersey outdoors, I found surprisingly little time to produce any updates here. Evenings were spent in perfect lassitude with a wide latitude on the mixed drinks while mornings were busy with schedules, packing and planning. In between, I found a little time to scout a proposed starting point for a planned NJ thru hike of the Appalachian Trail that we will be attempting in about two weeks time. What makes the endeavour fairly inane is that we were planning on backpacking the entire 72 mile NJ section of the AT over a Saturday and Sunday. Not too sure if it is going to work out as planned, but always worth a try... Meanwhile, some pictures from the week before.

Nosting Potice

Plan on taking a three day vacation with the family. Not too sure if I will be able to post as regularly... More pictures from the weekend.

From God’s Grace by Bernard Malamud

"He was the Author of the universe. Each man was a story unto himself, it seemed. He liked beginnings and endings. He enjoyed endings based on beginnings, and beginnings on endings. He liked to guess out endings and watch them go awry. At first He liked the juicy parts where people were torn between good and evil; but later the stories may have let Him down; how often, without seeming to try, the evil triumphed. It wasn’t an effect; it was an embarrassing condition: His insufficient creation. Man was subtly conceived but less well executed. Body and soul hung badly together"

Weekend pictures

A brownish black tree frog, a baby lizard and four humans were the only forms of life we encountered while backpacking along the smallish trails adjoining New Jersey's highest peak, High Point. The sudden downpour that postponed our planned beginning by about an hour laid waste to the trails by scheming to make them as soggy and mushy as possible. The dead leaves helped the situation by camouflaging the beaten path. The water still dripping off the heavy undergrowth that spanned both sides of the narrow walkway decided to come off and settle on the inside of our shoes resulting in a wet squelching gait that announced our arrival to no one in particular. Sampling some of the wild berries that we found along the path made me think about survivors in remote jungles waiting for the airlift. In addition to the sojourn with nature, we took some time to explore the inside of a little known war memorial at High Point. The vertigo induced on climbing the spiral steps that go up the 200 foot monument was not the greatest feeling but the views from atop of the sprawling Poconos, Catskills and a range that I did not know compensated. We also found a location along the famed Appalachian Trail from whence we plan to trek the New Jersey length of the trail in the near future. All told, the time spent outdoors was worth every little bit.

Trail Mix

I often hear the clichéd phrase ‘Oh, I need a vacation after last weekend to get back to normal’ on dragging myself into work on Mondays (especially during summer). I do the appropriate roll of my eyes as befits the occasion and carry on. This weekend was our turn to employ this cliché. We trekked portions of the Appalachian Trail (the longest continuous footpath in the world). The trail covers a total length of 2175 miles from Georgia to Maine and we did a tiny section (must have done about 0.002% of the trail) of the trail that runs through New Jersey. It was worth the effort. The absence of wireless signals and the internets added to a comfortable sense of isolation. Of course, I am not sure how long one could go without these leech like staples of our existence, but the disruption in the ‘I am always available’ mode was a welcome respite from the diurnal din.
We did catch a bit of ‘trail lingo’ along the way - NOBOs stands for north-bounders, trekking their way to yonder Maine, SOBOs for south-bounders who make the journey from Maine to Georgia (very few actually finish the trail end to end every year). I remember my wife punning that we felt like HOBOs (homebounders – not a trail lingo) at the end of the trek. We also managed to squeeze in a little boating near our rented log cabin. Also worth mentioning were black bear sightings (they seem to have so many in NJ that there is an official hunting season designed for Hummer like masculine egos to gun the poor things down) and white tailed deer’s. The vistas of the Delaware Water Gap at the summit of one of the little mountains we climbed did have a ‘sharp intake of breath’ effect on all of us. Upcoming projects include convincing the family to attempt larger sections of the trail in the future.

The following is an excerpt from On the Beaten Path: An Appalachian Pilgrimage by Robert Rubin - a book that I dicovered in the main office of the little commuity that we called home for two days.

We've walked this crooked trail to mend the crazing of our lives; we reek of sweat and smoke, wear Gore-Tex shells to turn the storm away, take on new names, our talk all aches, and boots, and food; and yet we yearn to strip the armor from our hearts, to wash ourselves in mountain rain and air until, like the wild columbine and black cohosh, we can be merely what we are, until out of the stone-strewn ground we bloom again, until the weathered sign on Baxter Peak points along the path to where we've been.

As is the custom, the pictures follow.