The Migration

Hawk Mountain Sanctuary. Thousands of raptors riding wind thermals as they migrate south, following their food source towards warmer climates for the winter. Camping. Campfires. Pennsylvania Mountains. NEED I SAY MORE?? That's right folks. Your heros have finally answered the call of one of the finest refuges for birds of prey. From www.hawkmountain.org, "To advance the mission, a full-time staff of 16, assisted by a 200-member volunteer corps, carries out integrated conservation programs in education, research, and monitoring, including operating a Visitor Center and the Acopian Center for Conservation Learning, and managing the 2,600-acre Sanctuary, a portion of which is open to the public year round. More than half of the Sanctuary's property is used for scientific monitoring and remains closed to public for habitat preservation."



Peak migration occurs in mid-October when the greatest variety of avian species can be seen; golden eagles, red-shouldered hawks and more are common. The migration pears down in mid-December although some eagles, goshawks and rough-legged hawks have been sighted even in January. The birders have it down to a science, "in mid October, you have a 96 percent chance of seeing a sharp-shinned hawk. In early September, you have just over a 50% chance of seeing a bald eagle." (www.hawkmountain.org). Even if you don't manage to make it during peak migration, the hiking trails and views of the Pennsylvania countryside are well worth the trip. In fact, 8 miles of trail can be taken from the base of Hawk Mountain, the Skyline Trail even connects to the Appalachian Trail, our old friend.







The sanctuary offers a great many lectures and programs led by distinguished ornithologists and biologists so check out the program list before you go. Mike and I simply notified the gift shop attendant that we would be leaving our car in the parking lot overnight and headed on up the mountain to the key birding spots. On the way up from an overlook we saw the River of Rocks, a mile long glacier deposited boulder field (some boulders over 20 feet long!)


(You can see the River of Rocks here in the distance)

We joined about 20 other birders at the top who quietly waited for those traveling on wind currents to pass overhead and then someone bedecked entirely in khaki, with hair protruding impossibly far from random orifices (it's how you know they are wise and expert birders) would quietly say, "Osprey above peak number 4, to the left of the large cumulus," or, "Sharpy (short for Sharp-Shinned Hawk) at 2:00 directly above the North Ridge," and then everyone would swivel their heads, binoculars attached at all times, to get a look at the beautiful visitor from above. Even monarch butterflies and flocks of jays were noted. A large stuffed Great Horned owl stood watch atop a tall post, causing raptors to dip low and challenge the foe over the heads of the onlookers.





Hawk Mountain wasn't always a place of study, reflection, repose and calm. No Sireee. Before it's inception as a refuge in 1934, Hawk Mountain used to be a death trap for migrating birds. Men found sport in shooting them out of the sky until the land stunk with the rot of thousands of hawks, eagles, osprey and falcons. The devils disguised in overalls would get $5 for every raptor shot because they were deemed as pests that would eat crops and damage livestock. The idiots didn't even stop to notice that the birds were passing through, not coming over for an extended stay. Why this lunacy? I believe that the fact that this genocide occurred can be summed up best by Hobbes, ""...in the first place, I put for a general inclination of all mankind, a perpetual and restless desire of power after power, that ceaseth only in death." Story goes, as the conservation effort was just getting off the ground, photographer Richard Pough came to Hawk Mountain and photographed the carnage resulting from the massive slaughter of the birds. His photographs were seen by, among others, New York resident and conservationist Rosalie Edge who founded the sanctuary.

Hawk Mountain holds in it's history the best and worst of the human spirit and shines as a light for future conservation efforts to aspire towards. Animals are never the enemy, if they don't fit in with man's plan, it is because he has disrupted the harmony in which they exist.

Good Luck on the Horseshoe Trail

Adventures can start in your backyard if you know where to look. Our new adventure did just that, well, actually it was a few blocks behind my parents backyard, but it's basically the same thing. It all started before embarking on the AT when some of my parents neighbors, who interestingly fabricate extremely realistic prosthetics, invited me over to see their African art and the original 1948 National Geographic that featured Earl Shaffer and his historic complete trek from Georgia to Maine. While I was visiting, they said, 'Ya know sweetie, I think that there is a trail right here in our backyards that hooks up with the AT. I wouldn't swear it, nope. But we've heard tell of it." I let this unconfirmed statement slip from my brain for a time. After all, it sounded to awesome to be true and I'd never seen a trail around. Now, fast forward a few months, post AT, on a warm evening walking home after working at the Wharton Esherick Museum (aka the dean of American craftsman's abode that looks like a fairy tale house) I noticed some yellow blazes painted onto some trees, and then some more and then some more.... A TRAIL! Right in my backyard. Rob, the awesome Director of the Esherick Museum (shout out also to Paul, the awesome Curator!) confirmed my neighbors statement and my own suspicions. In fact, he not only knew the name of the trail, but had hiked the whole thing! Dear readers, introducing THE HORSESHOE TRAIL; a Pennsylvania hiking and equestrian trail stretching 140 miles from Valley Forge to the Appalachian Trail on Stony Mountain. According to Rob, in the 60's, the trail was campable from start to finish (sometimes on the property of friendly farmers). Unfortunately, suburbia's ravenous appetite has devoured large swatches of forested land, leaving a small tract which the trail delicately traverses through large subdivisions. Luckily, once the intrepid hiker gets closer to western PA, greater views and more camping is afforded.


(HST trail head)

How crazy that these little used footpaths for those who seek companionship with the wilderness are in league with each other - maybe not that crazy... The Horseshoe Trail Club, founded in 1935, has a website that alerted me to the fact that a complete trail guide exists and I bought one from a Revolutionary War re-enactor working the museum bookstore at Valley Forge park. Now I was set all I had to do was call upon my trail companion Mister Mike Marks. We set off down my parents driveway to follow the trail which once connected the various Pennsylvanian forges and furnaces, leading through the charcoal forests between them. The trail helped to fuel the iron industry of the East in the late 18th and early 20th centuries. Portion of the old iron trails have survived to become today's Horse-Shoe Trail.


(An old trickster crow watches us from a pear tree)


(Old spring water bottling plant - the stream runs right through the building)



The trail was a vital supply chain, bringing cast iron and pig iron supplies to soldiers and colonial era families. According to the HST guide, "William Penn encouraged the mining and manufacture of iron in the PA colony. In the early days, the forges were built to produce finished goods, such as cast iron stoves and other simple castings." The only downside to the modern trail is that urban sprawl has relegated large portions of it to neighborhood sidewalks and edges of lawns causing old people watering their yards to stare at you strangely when you trek by with a huge backpack on and people in cars to stare at you even more strangely - where would we be going and where the hell did we come from? It was obvious that the trail probably didn't get much use. Hiking suburbia is a strange experience indeed. Much like my own parents, it was obvious that many people didn't even know the trail was in their backyards.


(Who knew we'd see chinchillas at Great Valley Nature Center along the way!)









We were afforded leaf cover most of the time, however and saw some beautiful PA countryside, an old spring bottling plant, horse farms, and Historic Yellow Springs a mecca for people seeking healing of a wide variety of bodily ills from its iron-rich "yellow" water since Native Americans inhabited the region. Hopewell Furnace was an awesome stop along the Horseshoe Trail. It is an excellently preserved furnace who's flame ran strong from 1771-1883. The furnace was a major supplier of canons for the Union Army during the Civil War. Today it is owned by the National Park Service and is still in action, worked by men in period clothing who demonstrated the making of cast iron stove doors. Park rangers rode huge work horses around, women in long skirts and bonnets sold us root beer and we picked our own apples from the on-site orchard from which a delicious southern-style apple pie with sour cream was made upon return to the Simmons' abode - yummmmm.