Not all who wander are lost

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”

– Henry David Thoreau

Winter hiking is a very different animal to other seasons of the year in North America, or more specifically in the upper, mid-Atlantic region. As an area that experiences all four seasons, winter hiking is the more challenging mix of cold air, frozen ground and ice, or snow, depending on the overall weather pattern for the year. For the past two years, in the northern parts of Pennsylvania, there hasn’t been much natural snow, so while I’d hoped to break in my snowshoes, I’ve instead had to gear up for cold weather hiking. Fortunately, I don’t buy-in to this idea that if you haven’t used something in a year, you should get rid of it – I’m going on 4 years of owning snowshoes that have never been used. I’m cautiously optimistic that one day I will get to use them, and so they stay firmly planted on my storage shelves in my garage.

During the summer months, my hiking days begin quite early, and I aim to be up and out as close as possible to sunrise so as to finish my planned hikes ahead of the full, noon-day heat. Avoiding dehydration and struggling with heat and humidity will drive me to rise as early as 4:30 in the morning so that I can have a full, hearty breakfast and get underway to the trailhead for daybreak. In contrast, during winter months, I rise when it suits me and meander through my breakfast, packing and preparing for the hike as I await a bit of warming by the sun. At minimum, I hope for the sun to melt the frost off the car windows so that I don’t need to scrape or wait for the defroster to do its job.

Winter hiking also involves a more elaborate, layered approach to clothing. A base layer, or as we used to call it, ‘long winter underwear,’ followed by a heavier hiking top with a hood, a fleece and warmer hiking jacket, with the possibility of a much heavier winter parka over everything. For me, my legs are the least of my concern, so they just get the base layer and sturdier hiking trousers that are wind and water resistant. For some reason, perhaps the fact that I’m working them hard when I hike, my legs don’t seem to get as cold as the rest of me. In addition to the clothing, a wool hat and waterproof gloves are needed as well as a gaiters (for my neck as well as lower legs, if the trail might be wet) are part of the packing list. Finally, micro spikes – these handy, little additions to give even more traction to my hiking boots. Of course, hiking poles are also included, though those are an all-seasons part of the package. The final piece is my full pack so that when I inevitably get too hot, I can stuff the extra layers into my pack.

As with dressing for going out in winter weather in general, you don’t want to put all the layers on immediately. Certainly, loading up on layers to drive isn’t a good idea. The hyper insulation will roast you before you even get to the trails, so a balance must be struck of warm enough, but not hot. Leaving the house, I wanted to have a few layers on and a whole stack of all the extra bits I’d need to layer on once I got there.

I arrived at my weekend get-away with a rough plan to get in some hiking. I knew ahead of time that there was no snow, so I packed up my rental car with the new checklist of winter hiking gear. While I included newly acquired hand-warmers, I decided to forgo the ‘fire starter’ recommended by one hiking instructor. I don’t go off trail and I always have my off-line maps at the ready on my phone in case there isn’t a cell signal. As part of my all-seasons kit, my Garmin inReach (a satellite phone) also comes along, so even if something bad happens, I would have access to search and rescue teams. So, while I bought some fire-starter, I didn’t pack it this time.

Driving along the country roads, I spotted Delaware State Forest. While I realize that this land, as well as the Delaware Water Gap where I’ve hiked with my hiking group, are named after the river of that name, it always throws me to see these signs in Pennsylvania, far away from the State of Delaware. Anyway, I made a mental note to check out trails in these lands since the ones I had scoped out previously all involved an hour or more of additional driving. I pulled into Hawley and settled into my Airbnb. I had dinner at the same Inn I visited last year during my ‘Poke-your-nose weekend.’ As the only ‘fine dining’ establishment in the area, it was so good last year, I decided to make it my first night plan. A comfortable, quiet dining room with an excellent menu. I thought optimistically that maybe the fact ‘dry January’ is catching on in the US (albeit much more of a militant social stance than the mere ‘taking a break from alcohol’ that it is in the UK), there was a chance there would be a mock-tail menu. Unsurprisingly, there was not – this is the mountains of Pennsylvania after all, a place where the politics are conservative, and diversity is non-existent. The server was friendly though and asked if I’d like to have the bartender make me something special, so I readily agreed. As long as it wasn’t just soda, I was happy to try anything. It turned out great – very bright and fruity while not being overly sweet. The ladies at the table next to me asked which cocktail I was having. When I told them it was a made-up one for dry January, they just laughed. They weren’t at all interested in going dry.

Saturday morning turned out to be 25°F, which was the air temperature and the high that day. It didn’t seem so bad until I looked at the ‘feels like’ temperature or the windchill, which was only 12°F. Now we were getting serious, that’s cold even for the inner Minnesotan. I had only packed my lightweight parka (yes, indeed, I have two parkas – one for Chicago or Minnesota winter and one for ‘all else’). I carefully selected my layers and wondered whether my layering would have the necessary heat to keep me going through a long hike. Figuring that one can always turn back early (though in reality, one would rather suffer great torment than admit defeat), I packed up my various snacks, lunch for on the trail and 2 litre camelback. Stepping out into the cold, grey day, it didn’t feel that cold, but I threw the parka in for extra measure. Since this was the first time, I’d be using the micro spikes, I decided to test putting them on before leaving. After shredding several fingernails, I finally got them stretched over the bottom of my boots and seriously considered having these boots be my winter hiking boots (aka never taking the bloody things off again).

I got to the trailhead in good time and, not surprisingly, I was the only car in the lot. Noticing that there were no ‘facilities,’ I tested out another new hiking tool upon my arrival. I won’t go into too much detail, but let’s just say that squatting in the woods in wintertime isn’t ideal. However, when you’re out for an entire day, drinking enough liquids to stay hydrated, it’s not like you can ‘hold it’ or find a porta-potty. Based on another recommendation from my solo female hiking group on Facebook, I’d bought a contraption that allows for not removing any garments, having to squat on the ground, or having to wear an adult diaper. My review of the product would be 5-stars. It worked perfectly, and I was disproportionately happy that the recommender was right in her assessment. So, with those preliminary checks out of the way and my five layers stacked over my torso, I turned on my satellite phone to its ‘track me’ setting, loaded up my trail map and headed out for a day in the woods.

The reviews of this particular trail warned that it was quite wet and buggy in the summertime. With an air temperature well below freezing, there was no chance of bugs. However, ice could be a factor, so having micro spikes as well as my poles would be helpful. The first part of the trail was easy to follow from the perspective that the trail markers were easy to see and not spaced too far apart. The trail itself was another story. It was completely covered with leaves and beyond the markers on the trees, it was indecipherable from the surrounding landscape. Leaves by themselves aren’t necessarily a problem, but they can hide wet areas and rocks, so it was slow going as I tried not to trip over hidden rocks or step into deep puddles. In the distance, occasionally, I heard the gunshot of hunters. This land was ‘posted,’ but I know that doesn’t mean much when hunters are going after wild animals, and borders of hunting versus non-hunting areas are not always well marked. I shed my black parka after a mile and given that my winter hiking jacket is a burgundy color, I was feeling nervous that I didn’t have any real ‘blaze orange’ to clearly identify me as ‘not a wild animal.’ I dug out my trail towel – a small towel, the size of a bandana – that happens to be bright orange and draped it over my pack, securing it to one of the many loops. It wasn’t much, but I made another mental note – get some orange stuff. It got me thinking that clearly the companies selling things like winter hiking jackets and hats aren’t in hunting areas since they make them pretty, muted colors like burgundy instead of neon green, orange, or yellow.

Winding my way through the woods, I thought about how this type of trail forces you to focus and concentrate. There’s no chance of letting your thought wander or not being fully ‘in the moment.’ For some reason, that made me feel good. I couldn’t think about what is going on elsewhere in my life, my work, my plans for other travels, instead, I had to concentrate on what I was doing in the moment. Downed trees, patches of swampy areas, gun shots, trees creaking in the wind, all these things drew my attention and forced me to stay on-task. The fact that the trail markings on the trees were the primary indicator of where the trail went, reinforced the need to watch carefully where I was going and what I was doing.  My AllTrails App would beep at me if I got off the trail but given that it was cold and I didn’t want to pull my gloves on and off to look at the App, I decided to focus on the trail markings as opposed to the little red line on my phone.

My practice of taking a sip of water every time I went up an ascent or after 10 minutes had to work for this hike since the other option of taking a sip when I pass another hiker wasn’t going to apply on this hike. There was no one on the trail, and over the course of the day, I didn’t see another person. To ensure that I stay hydrated when drinking water doesn’t seem necessary, for example when it’s cold, I need to remember to drink when I’m not thirsty. However, hiking is a physical activity and as I took off more layers, I kept in mind that even if I didn’t feel like it, I should keep sipping water periodically. I thought I was doing it enough to keep the water flowing, though as the hike went on, the water got colder. Finally, at about 9 miles in, I wasn’t getting any water from my Camelback. I thought perhaps I had been too enthusiastic early on and finished the two litres I brought with me. However, it turned out that the tube had frozen solid. It hadn’t occurred to me that I should insulate the tube or otherwise try to keep it closer to my body. (Note to self, buy an insulated sleeve to go over the tube).

As I came to the end of the regular trail, I entered a loop that circled a pond. The sign had an arrow pointing in either direction – it was a loop after all, and a ‘5.’ Suddenly, I couldn’t remember how far this hike was meant to be. Surely, the fact I’d already gone over 4 miles meant that I was nearly halfway. I proceeded around the loop, crossing more bodies of water. Some water crossings were merely swampy areas, while others were rushing streams. One even had two think trees by way of a mini bridge. The miles ticked away, and I finally had to admit that the ‘5’ on the sign meant miles. Doing the math, this meant the trail was over 13 miles. I guess when I was going through the options the night before, looking for something that would take most of the day, this seemed reasonable to me. Of course, I didn’t really think about the overall distance when getting up and out that morning. The problem wasn’t the distance, my concern was that with the trail conditions, it was taking me about 30 minutes per mile. At that rate, I’d be looking at close to 7 hours of hiking. With my later morning start, I was going to be pushing it to be back to the car by sundown. Of course, I’d brought my full pack, so the headlamp was in there, and my iPhone flashlight could help as well. However, the fact remained that once the sun went down, the temperature would drop even further. But no pressure!

Once finishing the loop, I headed back the way I’d come. As I went along, the sun started to go down and I could see it blazing on the horizon at a distance. I decided to just focus on the trail and keep my pace up as much as possible. Worst case, I could dig out the headlamp and even though the water tube had frozen, I could stop and warm it up enough to get to the remaining water in the Camelback, so no worries. I also had my extra snacks for fuel, so overall was in good shape even though my preference was to be back to the house before darkness settled in. Even though I was going back over the same route, I spotted a bright flash of color. It turned out to be ‘Witches’ Butter’ a fungus, but a beautiful spark of color in an otherwise drab landscape.

In the end, the trail was 13.6 miles and while the sun was officially down, it was still light enough out that I didn’t need the headlamp. A pickup truck was keeping my car company at the trailhead, though its occupant was nowhere to be seen. I don’t know why a random truck made me nervous, but I quickly returned my gear to the car, changed out of my boots, and headed out. I wasn’t interested in meeting whomever it was that had decided to park next to me.

All in all, a great cold weather hike. After a very hot shower, and a quick meal at the local Italian restaurant, I crawled into bed and decided short, easy hikes would be for the next day.