Autumn Backpack into Quehanna's Valley of the Elk!

A place so wild that even the OWLS howl . . .

My husband and I had been keeping an eye on the forecast, watching and waiting for our next autumn backpacking opportunity. We'd thought about going out Sunday night, but then there were forecasts of thunderstorms, which did indeed materialize on Sunday evening. 

It was soaking wet outdoors on Monday. Still kinda damp for camping out. So we packed in a leisurely fashion, with plans to leave on Tuesday morning for a backpack trip into the Quehanna Wild Area's Valley of the Elk.

Tuesday morning found us up and about, finalizing our gear, packing a cooler or two, loading things into the car. Given all of the issues I've had with my knees in the past year, I was both excited and also a little bit trepidatious about the whole thing. 

We haven't done the Hammersley Wild Area backpack (see here and here) in a number of years, which is the hardest backpack I know of; these days, Quehanna is our longest, most difficult backpack. And last fall, it just about took us both down; we emerged from the Wild Area that time, feeling like it was almost TOO much.

Would I be able to make it both into AND out of the Valley of the Elk, not only hauling myself several miles in my new heavy backpacking boots, but also laden down with about 40 pounds of my full-frame pack and gear? I guess we'll see, I thought to myself.

We packed some provisions, which is to say mainly snack bars, apples, applesauce, and bits of candy, along with four Lunchables snack packs that my husband got on sale at the grocery store last week for $1 apiece; there's a lot of spare packaging there, so in advance of our trip, he took them all apart and put them into containers and bags. We had one hard-boiled egg left, so I packed that, too.

There wasn't time to stop anywhere for a nice hot breakfast, so we made bacon, lettuce, and tomato open-face sandwiches with mayo, and ate them. By 10:30, we were in the car and leaving the house, which isn't bad at all for something as complex as all of that. We stopped at Benton's in Karthaus for a quart of chili, cold, for the cooler, to heat up when we got home from our trip.

By about a quarter to one, the car was parked and we were ready. I had everything in my pack and my husband hossed it onto my shoulders. Wow. That's HEAVY. I had just purchased a new down sleeping bag on deep discount for $100, which was quite possibly a "lifetime deal," according to my husband. So I had that with me, ready to field test it by using it for the very first time!

I was wearing the new backpacking boots I bought in springtime. I had mixed results with them on day hikes - they're a bit too much for that, really. But for backpacking, they're top notch. Big and sturdy and tough. Ready to take on the elements.

I wish I could tell you that all of this preparation made the hike into our back-country campsite a breeze, but that would be a bold-faced lie. It was still a tough hike, which involved, in order, the following challenges:

*first, the fun of carrying all of that gear about three and a half miles in,
*second, the walk on the new large gravel they put in on part of the trail to deal with the mud,
*third, still worse, the unmitigated mud and slop on the second part of the trail, with deep, slick mud ruts and standing water,
*fourth, one side creek water crossing, which I worried about, but it turned out it was nothing in the end,
*and fifth, the walk across the open fields just loaded with vines that try to catch your boots and trip you.

By 2 p.m., I'd successfully made it through all of those challenges and tribulations, and I was very gratefully putting DOWN my backpack in our back-country site in the Valley of the Elk. Hooray! I'd made it half the way. I was actually IN the campsite. Success!

As is my custom, I shortly had my campsite set up. I took my gear off my pack and laid it on a groundsheet. Then I cleared my tent area of debris. I put down a groundsheet, set up my tent on it. Out came the tent, the poles, the stakes. Zip zip zip, my tent was up! In went the gear: blankets, sleeping pads, new bag, stuff sacks, Out came the animals: Tiny Tiger, Little Bear and Alex, the Anteater, the Moose, Lil RBG, Quetzal.

In advance of our trip, the Moose understood that he might encounter elk, which is to say something SORT OF like a moose. He was worried that he didn't know how to bugle to communicate with the elk. So we gave him a kazoo, and he kazooed up a storm, sending out greetings to any moose-like individuals in the Valley of the Elk.

There is a big rock overlooking the valley, and that was my vantage point for the photo above. There is a red tree in the front right, and down below are the evergreens. Up on the left, those green trees are tamaracks, which will go to gold in early November. One of the many tributaries of Mosquito Creek runs down this valley, and eventually, into the mighty Susquehanna. You've seen pictures of me wading in this creek. Oh, what adventures we've had here!

We spent our afternoon alternating between time on the big rock overlooking the valley and time back under the pines at our campsite. As dusk began to fall, things perked up on the wildlife front. At 6:19, I heard a very strange noise. It sounded like a creature in the trees. Something large. Something wild.

It began sort of like a squeal and ended in a howl, followed by a . . . HOOT? It was an OWL? "There's your 6:19 owl," I said; "Clearly, it's been raised with elk and coyotes!" It was one of the strangest, wildest sounds I have ever heard. And that's saying something. Can you believe it: a place so wild that even the OWLS howl!??? "I'll go the extra mile for a howling owl," I added.

And then at 6:30, the actual coyotes and elk began their all-night-long chase. It sounded like they chased each other all around the hill we were camping on. The sounds would swell, and come closer, and then finally disappear. The Moose got very excited. Moose-kind! Or elk, at least! They had answered his call!

Now, there is more to this tale, and I promise to tell it all tomorrow. For now, here is part 1 of our big wild woods adventure. More tomorrow! Our soundtrack song for a very wild night in the big woods is this one, which played on our tunes box as the darkness fell: Pat Benatar, with Shadows of the NIght.