That's a Wrap! Moshannon Backpack, Day 2

When we left our intrepid backpackers, which is to say my husband and myself, they were enjoying some of the last gorgeous rays of the late afternoon sun in Moshannon State Forest, up above Black Moshannon State Park.

I typically put my tent up long before my husband does. So as I was enjoying the good light, and some fun selfies, he was a little ways away, down at his own tent, setting it up, putting things inside, and then inflating his own inflatable pad. This is a tedious task, as I well know, as I have a love-hate relationship with Big Agnes, my own big, green, shiny, inflatable sleeping pad.

I heard him muttering to himself, as he worked on inflating it. "My knees and hips are starting to numb up! My shoulders are starting to lock!" And then, a few minutes later: "Psychologically, I feel despondent." And after that, something more like a moan: "I wonder about the futility of all life." How long does it take to complete this task? Oh, about 15 to 20 minutes. But it feels like an eternity!

And then our tents were both set up, as the evening light began to fade. Around 8 p.m., I heard the call of a whippoorwill. In Appalachian springtime, that sound means, "Hey, girl, it's time to go BAREFOOT!" What does it mean in September? Well, maybe it's saying it's time to put the shoes back ON???

We might have heard an owl hooting, and then by 8:15, it was full-on dark. We hope to get out backpacking several more times this fall. I don't mind when it gets colder out, but I DO mind the endless darkness, as autumn advances. As backpackers, I know for sure that this will be our longest day.

I lit the blue Christmas lights on my tent, and my husband lit an LED lantern and hung it from the clothesline, and voila, we had a campsite, full of light. We sat around - him on a three-legged chair that folds up into a bag, me in my little stadium chair, sitting on a fallen tree - and listened to music as the night wore on.

We were only bothered by gnats and mosquitoes for a little while, when the breeze gave up on us around 7. Fortunately, they didn't last. You haven't asked me this, but let me tell you: we are not typically summer backpackers, as it's way too hot and buggy during the summer months to be out in the woods sitting still for hours and hours. You would be eaten alive! So that's why almost all of our backpack trips happen during the spring and fall. We like a chilly night or two to scare off the bugs.

I haven't, to this point, addressed my footwear, but let me bring it into the story. I bought a new serious backpacking boot back in May, upon my husband's advice. It is an Alterra, it was on sale for nearly half off, and it had great reviews, as a backpacking boot.

My agents took delivery of the boot on May 22, and I field tested it at Dry Hollow, and then again in Moshannon State Forest. Both days, I pronounced it "tough," and "like a tank." But then in early July, I took it on a dayhike in Sproul, and the boot and I had a rough day.

I had just trimmed my toenails the day before that, and polished them. Somehow the boot squashed my big toe and made it hurt and bleed. And I was having trouble off and on with my knees, which didn't help at all. The boot felt too heavy on my foot, too draggy on my knees. I was full of new-boot resentment. When I got home, I'd had enough of it: I told my husband I was NOT wearing the boot again until we took it on an actual BACKPACK trip, which is what it was MADE FOR.

Before this recent backpack trip, I'd been remembering that Sproul hike, and my sore and bloody toe, and the unwieldy, heavy boots. I didn't tell my husband about it, but I was dreading the backpack trip, with the thought of wearing them again! To be honest, I was even wondering whether I might want to send those boots back to their maker!

But I am happy to report that on this trip, the Alterra did a stunning job. And as we sat around camp that night, and I strolled around the darkness in my big boots, I felt invincible. I felt like nothing could get me. I felt strong. The boot felt like a fortress for my foot! So you might say that I spent the evening falling in love with it. Yes, it was that good!

Now, let me wrap this story up, as it's getting quite long. We sat around our camp enjoying the light, and the sky, and the moon, which was tiny, and rose and set way too quickly, and the stars, and the breeze. Our tunes box eventually gave up the ghost, and it was late enough by then that we didn't bother getting out another one (we carry several).

So the evening found my husband and me, sitting around our campsite, actually launching into SONG. I don't remember what we sang first, but I do remember what we sang last. I think it was America the Beautiful. Yes, we sang it loudly and possibly somewhat off key, but by the time we were done, the harmonies weren't half bad. 

So if you heard about the animals and all the wild creatures of Moshannon State Forest being traumatized, well, I can lay claim to that fame: I'll admit, it was us, belting out our love for our country, and this great land. (Yes, it's STILL a great land, in spite of it all!)

It was peaceful and quiet in the wild woods. Not a sound to be heard in the middle of the night, when I woke up, wondering if the power had gone off or something, because I didn't hear a single sound. (At home, I typically keep a fan on all night long, to provide both a breeze and white noise which helps me sleep.)

And then the next morning, we got up - woke up around a quarter to 7, actually, both of us - and there was a slight drizzle, but nothing much. We saw the bright orange sunrise across the sky, which was amazing. Then we went back inside our tents for another hour or so.

By 10 a.m., all gear was out of my tent. By an hour or so later, I was all packed up. My husband had informed me that he had a feeling it was going to be an easy walk out. We were just going to WALK OVER and FIND the trail. It was a hopeful thought!

Well, as it turned out, we actually didn't. We walked around in the woods and brushes near where we thought the trail was. Eventually, my husband sort of found it. Mostly. It was all grown in and very difficult to see. 

And then we walked back up the hill, and out of the wild woods, and back to the good green path that provides much easier hiking. We walked out of our Moshannon State Forest campsite around 1:15, and were back at the car by 2:15. 

The walk out tends to be about an hour, give or take, whether we have difficulty finding the trail or not. In the photo above, you may see my husband walking down the pretty green trail near the end of our hike, with some lovely goldenrod along the sides, plenty of green ferns, and perhaps just the start of some fall foliage colors above in the trees. He saw two orange butterflies chasing each other there, but I did not.

I will have to tell you that I finished the backpack with a feeling of jubilation. The boot had worked out fine! My knees, though tired by the end of it all, were fine. And I'd managed to MacGyver myself a solution to the broken sunglasses on Sunday (no, I couldn't walk out wearing them; that was too much bouncing; but back at the car, my husband loaned me a spare pair he keeps in the dash). Yay! We'd done it! First backpack of late summer/early fall of 2024 . . .  now that's a wrap!

I like to include a soundtrack song, and so I'll include one that I always think of on this particular backpack. The hike we do into the Moshannon State Forest is not for the faint of heart. The trail is pretty much impossible to follow. It is overgrown. It is rocky. I could not do this hike myself. In fact, this is a place I would NEVER go without my husband to guide the way.

Only with his extraordinary sense of direction do we manage to find our way into, and then out of, the Moshannon campsite in the back-country woods. We joke about it all the time, and I think of it as the Hotel California of backpacks. Do you remember this line? You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave! 

It's a golden September afternoon. We are in the wild woods. There is our guide, ahead of us. Be sure to keep up, because if you lose sight of him, you just might be lost forever! My soundtrack song for this posting is the Eagles, with Hotel California.  (I'm also adding Bon Jovi's version of America the Beautiful, as a tribute to our two backwoods singers!)