Start: Dunnfirld Creek Natural Area
Stop: Backpacker Campsite #2, Washington State Forest
Daily Mileage: 3.4
Total Mileage: 234.9
Pictures to be added later.
Coming out of Delaware Water Gap, the Trail wanders up a creek (which, of course, empties in the Delaware River) and then breaks away to a climb which takes you to the top of the mountain a ridge you follow across the length of the state forest.
We dutifully followed the Trail, with Bogey's Uncle Fred leading up for the first 30 or so minutes. It was obvious he wanted to continue with us rather than return to his sales job -- he not only got in front of us but set a blistering pace that had I think that left us hustling to keep up. Try as I did to keep up, I fell behind after a few minutes and reminded myself that where Uncle Fred wasn't carrying a pack and would return to his van soon enough, I would be carrying this pack the rest of the day and I needed to just slow down and hike my own hike. Uncle Fred was pleased with the Trail as he saw it and I think he and his son Rick will be out here soon to explore some more.
While in the Washington State Forest, hikers are allowed to camp at one site only, "Backpacker Campsite #2." It was only 3-1/2 miles from the road crossing. The only other choice for camping is to hike all the way through the state forest and camp just outside it. Since that was a hike of about twenty-four miles or so (and, even on a good day, it would've been impossible for us since we were getting such a late start), we had to settle for the Campsite #2. We reached it in a little less than an hour-and-a-half.
The campsite was on a ridge and appeared to be the result of a fire, which had cleared the underbrush years ago and left only the trees and a few burned logged among the long and wavy grass. There were two bear boxes and two privies. We also noted a large family-sized tent which Bogey thought might be abandoned. We opted to camp away from that tent and chose a spot about 50 yards from the second bear box. The site offered good views -- if the fog ever cleared and was away from the tree line. My foot was sore as my boot kept pushing down in on the scab and I was glad we were stopping for the day. It was a shame, however, that it was only 3:30 in the afternoon and we'd be stuck just sitting in camp until dark, maybe five hours away. However, it couldn't be helped since we didn't want to hike the remaining 21 miles to the next specified campsite. Even had we the energy to do 24 miles in a day, we wouldn't have reached the site until about one in the morning, at our 2 MPH speed.
We set up our tent, sat around for about 30 minutes, and then made dinner. I opted for just plain Ramen noodles and was reminded how easy the pot is to wipe clean when you don't add peanut butter, soy sauce, and other things. I will have to remember this!
After dinner, we moved into my tent to review the Thru-Hikers Companion, look at our water options, and see what tomorrow might bring. We had also gotten tired of the mosquitoes and other bugs which were starting to pester us. After a bit, we heard a very annoying bird squawking in the tree line. The sound was both a little loud, very persistent, and had an eerie quality about it that set the nerves on edge.
The squawking continued and then grew louder. Bogey straightened up and pointing through the tent mesh, said in surprise, "Look, it's a baby deer!" I turned and saw what I took to be jackrabbit running pell-mell from the tree line and into the campsite, which was about 2 acres. And then, we saw it -- a black bear right behind the deer, thump-thump-thumping in lumbering yet shockingly fast pursuit. The deer made towards the privy in the distance, then cut right. Either the baby deer saw us and thought we were its best chance for rescue or the bright red of my tent caught its eye and it just decided to run that way. In any case, it turned on a dime and headed straight for us. I still wasn't sure what I was looking at, but whatever it was -- very large rabbit or very tiny deer -- was screaming at the top of its lungs and running for all it was worth. The bear was only two or three yards behind it and we could hear the heavy thump-thump-thump as it loped (again, at crazy fast speed) behind the bear.
The deer was bleating, now no longer sounding like a strange bird but rather an animal yelling for its mother or anyone else to come rescue it. The deer flashed past our tent, passing about four feet from the opening of my tent. By this time, we were both scrambling -- frankly I can't remember if it was to get a better look at the drama unfolding in front of us, or to prepare for a hasty escape from the tent (where I certainly didn't want to be zipped in and trapped when the bear arrived), or simply scrambling for scrambling's sake.
The bear skidded to a stop in front of the tent and turned its head to look at us. We were only four feet apart and it was the closest I've ever been to a bear. I'd like to say that up close it looked magnificent or that I noticed some detail like the color or its fur or the structure of its paws. But, all I really recall is a voice in my mind saying, "Shit! That bear has either decided we're a better dinner or it's pissed we've interrupted its dinner." A split second later I realized that the bear was simply confused -- I think it meant to merely dash past the tent and had no idea anyone or anything would be in there. But, as it was passing we were still scrambling: Thru-Hikers Guide and smart phones flying the air, sleeping bag and Therm-a-Rest on which we were sitting getting pushed aside as we tried to get up, and hands flailing for the tent zippers or flash lights. Our activity had caught its eye and it had stopped to investigate.
We both clapped and I yelled "Git outta here!" That was our standard response when we heard bears in the night and it usually worked. I'm sure no thought went into it this time -- we just automatically made noise and yelled. I think I was somewhat surprised when it worked and the bear looked ahead and took off running again.
We both spilled out of the tent so as to get a better look at the bear and keep an eye on it. Also, I believe, so as to not be trapped in the tent should the bear return. I looked again and, yes, the bear had only been four or five feet from us. Yikes!
We no longer heard the baby deer bleating but we also never heard it scream as if it had been caught, so I suggested that the moment or so the bear had taken to examine us had afforded the baby deer an opportunity to put some more distance between himself and the bear and had ultimately escaped.
Only then did I turn around and realize that our food bags and cook kits were arrayed on the ground between our tents. "Ummm, maybe we should lock our food and stuff in the bear box," I suggested.
Bogey refused to sit down and instead chose to stand, hands on hips, and look in the direction in which the bear had disappeared. A few minutes later she exclaimed, "He's back!"
I turned and, sure enough, the bear was peering over some bushes about 50 yards away, watching us. We again clapped and yelled at it and it scampered off. We couldn't tell for sure, but the bear seemed to move down the mountain a bit and skirted around our campsite by about 100 yards or so, judging from the "Hrrrmmpphs" we heard and the crackling of twigs and such.
Between then and when we finally turned in around nine o'clock, we didn't see or hear the bear again. However, about ten minutes of eleven that night, we both sat up and said, "Bear!" as we heard a distinctive "hrrrrrmmmppphh" from the tree line. Between clapping and peering out with our headlamps, we made enough ruckus and the/a bear wandered off. It took some time for us to fall back asleep and every crackle from every squirrel and other innocuous creature sent us into a momentary freeze and then mad scramble for lights and sound.
It was a long night.
Stop: Backpacker Campsite #2, Washington State Forest
Daily Mileage: 3.4
Total Mileage: 234.9
Pictures to be added later.
Coming out of Delaware Water Gap, the Trail wanders up a creek (which, of course, empties in the Delaware River) and then breaks away to a climb which takes you to the top of the mountain a ridge you follow across the length of the state forest.
We dutifully followed the Trail, with Bogey's Uncle Fred leading up for the first 30 or so minutes. It was obvious he wanted to continue with us rather than return to his sales job -- he not only got in front of us but set a blistering pace that had I think that left us hustling to keep up. Try as I did to keep up, I fell behind after a few minutes and reminded myself that where Uncle Fred wasn't carrying a pack and would return to his van soon enough, I would be carrying this pack the rest of the day and I needed to just slow down and hike my own hike. Uncle Fred was pleased with the Trail as he saw it and I think he and his son Rick will be out here soon to explore some more.
While in the Washington State Forest, hikers are allowed to camp at one site only, "Backpacker Campsite #2." It was only 3-1/2 miles from the road crossing. The only other choice for camping is to hike all the way through the state forest and camp just outside it. Since that was a hike of about twenty-four miles or so (and, even on a good day, it would've been impossible for us since we were getting such a late start), we had to settle for the Campsite #2. We reached it in a little less than an hour-and-a-half.
The campsite was on a ridge and appeared to be the result of a fire, which had cleared the underbrush years ago and left only the trees and a few burned logged among the long and wavy grass. There were two bear boxes and two privies. We also noted a large family-sized tent which Bogey thought might be abandoned. We opted to camp away from that tent and chose a spot about 50 yards from the second bear box. The site offered good views -- if the fog ever cleared and was away from the tree line. My foot was sore as my boot kept pushing down in on the scab and I was glad we were stopping for the day. It was a shame, however, that it was only 3:30 in the afternoon and we'd be stuck just sitting in camp until dark, maybe five hours away. However, it couldn't be helped since we didn't want to hike the remaining 21 miles to the next specified campsite. Even had we the energy to do 24 miles in a day, we wouldn't have reached the site until about one in the morning, at our 2 MPH speed.
We set up our tent, sat around for about 30 minutes, and then made dinner. I opted for just plain Ramen noodles and was reminded how easy the pot is to wipe clean when you don't add peanut butter, soy sauce, and other things. I will have to remember this!
After dinner, we moved into my tent to review the Thru-Hikers Companion, look at our water options, and see what tomorrow might bring. We had also gotten tired of the mosquitoes and other bugs which were starting to pester us. After a bit, we heard a very annoying bird squawking in the tree line. The sound was both a little loud, very persistent, and had an eerie quality about it that set the nerves on edge.
The squawking continued and then grew louder. Bogey straightened up and pointing through the tent mesh, said in surprise, "Look, it's a baby deer!" I turned and saw what I took to be jackrabbit running pell-mell from the tree line and into the campsite, which was about 2 acres. And then, we saw it -- a black bear right behind the deer, thump-thump-thumping in lumbering yet shockingly fast pursuit. The deer made towards the privy in the distance, then cut right. Either the baby deer saw us and thought we were its best chance for rescue or the bright red of my tent caught its eye and it just decided to run that way. In any case, it turned on a dime and headed straight for us. I still wasn't sure what I was looking at, but whatever it was -- very large rabbit or very tiny deer -- was screaming at the top of its lungs and running for all it was worth. The bear was only two or three yards behind it and we could hear the heavy thump-thump-thump as it loped (again, at crazy fast speed) behind the bear.
The deer was bleating, now no longer sounding like a strange bird but rather an animal yelling for its mother or anyone else to come rescue it. The deer flashed past our tent, passing about four feet from the opening of my tent. By this time, we were both scrambling -- frankly I can't remember if it was to get a better look at the drama unfolding in front of us, or to prepare for a hasty escape from the tent (where I certainly didn't want to be zipped in and trapped when the bear arrived), or simply scrambling for scrambling's sake.
The bear skidded to a stop in front of the tent and turned its head to look at us. We were only four feet apart and it was the closest I've ever been to a bear. I'd like to say that up close it looked magnificent or that I noticed some detail like the color or its fur or the structure of its paws. But, all I really recall is a voice in my mind saying, "Shit! That bear has either decided we're a better dinner or it's pissed we've interrupted its dinner." A split second later I realized that the bear was simply confused -- I think it meant to merely dash past the tent and had no idea anyone or anything would be in there. But, as it was passing we were still scrambling: Thru-Hikers Guide and smart phones flying the air, sleeping bag and Therm-a-Rest on which we were sitting getting pushed aside as we tried to get up, and hands flailing for the tent zippers or flash lights. Our activity had caught its eye and it had stopped to investigate.
We both clapped and I yelled "Git outta here!" That was our standard response when we heard bears in the night and it usually worked. I'm sure no thought went into it this time -- we just automatically made noise and yelled. I think I was somewhat surprised when it worked and the bear looked ahead and took off running again.
We both spilled out of the tent so as to get a better look at the bear and keep an eye on it. Also, I believe, so as to not be trapped in the tent should the bear return. I looked again and, yes, the bear had only been four or five feet from us. Yikes!
We no longer heard the baby deer bleating but we also never heard it scream as if it had been caught, so I suggested that the moment or so the bear had taken to examine us had afforded the baby deer an opportunity to put some more distance between himself and the bear and had ultimately escaped.
Only then did I turn around and realize that our food bags and cook kits were arrayed on the ground between our tents. "Ummm, maybe we should lock our food and stuff in the bear box," I suggested.
Bogey refused to sit down and instead chose to stand, hands on hips, and look in the direction in which the bear had disappeared. A few minutes later she exclaimed, "He's back!"
I turned and, sure enough, the bear was peering over some bushes about 50 yards away, watching us. We again clapped and yelled at it and it scampered off. We couldn't tell for sure, but the bear seemed to move down the mountain a bit and skirted around our campsite by about 100 yards or so, judging from the "Hrrrmmpphs" we heard and the crackling of twigs and such.
Between then and when we finally turned in around nine o'clock, we didn't see or hear the bear again. However, about ten minutes of eleven that night, we both sat up and said, "Bear!" as we heard a distinctive "hrrrrrmmmppphh" from the tree line. Between clapping and peering out with our headlamps, we made enough ruckus and the/a bear wandered off. It took some time for us to fall back asleep and every crackle from every squirrel and other innocuous creature sent us into a momentary freeze and then mad scramble for lights and sound.
It was a long night.
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