West Rim Trail: Pine Creek Gorge
To celebrate my passage around the sun, and labor day weekend, Andrea and I set off to the “PA Grand Canyon” to backpack the West Rim Trail. We planned to do the ~30 mile trail over three days. It would be our first multi-night backpacking trip. Although it won’t be our last, this certainly tested our limits of comfort.
On Friday night we stayed in a cleared out field at Olga Farms, a good find on Hip Camp. The location boasted dark skies for star gazing, but cloud cover and a bright moon dulled the heavens. Despite the unfortunate sky conditions, the farm was bucolic with wonderful hosts and several cats for Andrea to pet.
With access to the car, we took that night as our opportunity to celebrate, opening a few presents and indulging in BB and Bur cupcakes. Andrea chose well with the red velvet. Yum!
With the rise of the sun we packed up camp, divided food rations for the adventure and set off to the Pine Creek Outfitters. We would end up parking our car at the northern end of the West Rim Trail and get shuttled to the southern end, as it was a point to point trail.
In the shuttle were another group of hikers (party of three) following a similar itinerary. We ended up hiking separately but would run into each other at various times along the trail.
The first two miles had us climbing to the top of the ridge. There were only 1–2 dependable water sources in the first 16 miles so we had lots of water packed for hydration, dinner and breakfast the next morning. Gravity was surely felt.
Despite huffing and puffing up the first climb, the steep pitch eased and level ground was encouraging. Eight miles into the first day, and after passing a few of our preferred camp sites that were taken, we made camp. Conditions were dry and I was able to make a fire. Knowing wet weather was on its way, it was likely our last chance.
Night time brought a chattering visiter. It sounded small from the tent but the dry leaves gave the animal an extra 500 pounds and thick brown fur. Despite calm dissuasion on my end, it didn’t seem to mind running laps around the tent. I ended up exiting the tent to pee having not heard the animal in a little bit. Shining the light into the woods, there was our friend, a white a black porcupine. Wildlife! Good to keep our distance though.
We woke up to ominous clouds but a dry tent. We quickly packed up camp and with only a few minutes to spare, the sky opened up. So began the wettest two days of hiking I have ever endured.
I maintain that a forest is most beautiful when wet. Frogs and salamanders come out to play and the foliage takes on an extra shade darker of green. That morning of rain, although beautiful, certainly had us worried about wet equipment for that evening, let alone setting up and cooking in the rain.
The rain stopped at our halfway picnic point. The clouds thinned enough to see a vague outline of the sun. During our hour break we chatted with the few hikers also sharing a moment of respite. We were all in this together.
After a healthy lunch of a heavily portioned chocolate trail mix Andrea and I set off for the second half of the day, adding up to 12 miles. On the few occasions we had service that day, the weather app projected thunderstorms starting early evening and lasting through the next day. The last three miles of our second day felt like a race against the clock, constantly looking up to assess the temperament of the sky.
Thankfully, we made it to our camp site on day two without the rain starting again, allowing us to set up tent and cook dinner in dry conditions. We even had the opportunity to string up some of our clothes and other wet items. It was apparent that waterproof did not exactly mean water sealed.
12 miles was Andrea’s longest hike and with a loaded pack to boot. We joke that her ankles are noodles and extremely hypermobile. She had remembered turning her ankle multiple times throughout the day, as she typically does without consequence. Just before heading into the tent, after a sitting for a period eating dinner, she stood up and in taking a few steps found it difficult to bear weight due to significant pain in the front of her ankle. She limped into the tent. No swelling or bruising, just a pissed off joint.
Tucked in at 8pm, the patter on our tent’s rainfly started, growing to a steady roar. This would continue into the morning without respite, leaving us restless, let alone concerned about Andrea’s ankle. We were close to a road if we needed to bail out but we both would prefer not.
In the morning the rain was still coming down hard. The silent stream bed we slept next to was flowing hard and the undersurface of the tent was saturated with mud. Oatmeal and coffee were prepared in the vestibule of the tent and we packed up knowing that if things got a little wet, this was our last day.
Eight miles back to the car for the final day. I know I said I like a wet forest, but conditions that morning were astoundingly wet. The trail was effectively a stream and our shoes were sopping in a matter of minutes. Thankfully Andrea’s ankle was only a little sore in the morning and handled the soggy terrain well.
Most unfortunate was the promised view near the end. The cloud cover limited our view but a quick shift let the other side peak out for a picture. I don’t think I have ever seen Andrea walk as fast as she did for the last 2 mile downhill to the car. Wet and weary we saw the car’s glint through the trees and let out a sigh of relief. We did it! We conquered the trail! Next time we could use a little less of the wet stuff.
