I am taking a moment to reflect on an event not connected to hiking, but profound to me. Recently my father passed away at age 84. He did very little hiking per se, especially after Army basic training in the 1950s. But his love of the outdoors influenced me (and still does). So you will forgive me a few stories involving him and my hiking adventures.
It was with my dad that I first experienced an Adirondack hiking trail (albeit brief by my current standards) one summer when I was nine.We were on vacation and my family made the trip from western New York. I never forgot the experience of walking on a trail in those woods and coming out to a small waterfall (see photo below - btw I took the picture). After that I would not walk with my Dad on a trail in the Adirondacks again until I was in my twenties and he was near retirement.
We did spend much time in Pennsylvania, especially in summer (my dad's family was from there and that is where my folks lived when my brother and I were born). Although our walks in the woods were not hiking as such, we did tramp through the woods enough hours to gain a love for them that ought to be evident from the many hiking adventures I have taken there since. It was my Dad that helped establish my connection to those woods and give me a comfort level with being in them even when we were just car camping in them.
As an adult, when I started hiking on the trails in Pa in earnest my Dad would often drive me to the trail-head (after dropping off my vehicle at my ending point). One time though I asked him to pick me up at the end of the section of trail I was hiking (in this case the STS). On this occasion, I finished the section of trail a little early so I was examining the next part of the trail (near the Italian Hollow section of the trail) that was across the (dirt) road from the part I just finished. Anyway, I was waiting on side of the road when I saw his vehicle approaching, I stood up, and looked at it as it drove right by me (he was looking on the opposite side of the road where I would have been had I not been curious about the next section). I waved at the retreating vehicle, but he did not see me. After about 5-10 minutes he came back (I think the road ran out after awhile) to see me waiting. I gave him a hard time about it of course. Side note - last summer on my Donut Hole Trail thru-hike I crossed that same section of trail and that memory came back to me very vividly.
Well after that time, and after he entered the nursing home, I would always stop to see him when I finished a hike or a backpacking trip (if it was in PA). Although he did not understand very well what I told him of my hike I always left him with something I had carried with me as a sort of memento. I will miss those post-hike visits very much.
Anyway, thank you Dad for your gift of the love of the outdoors to me, I will think of you every time I step on a trail in Penn's woods or elsewhere.
It was with my dad that I first experienced an Adirondack hiking trail (albeit brief by my current standards) one summer when I was nine.We were on vacation and my family made the trip from western New York. I never forgot the experience of walking on a trail in those woods and coming out to a small waterfall (see photo below - btw I took the picture). After that I would not walk with my Dad on a trail in the Adirondacks again until I was in my twenties and he was near retirement.
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| My dad, brother and sister - Adirondacks |
We did spend much time in Pennsylvania, especially in summer (my dad's family was from there and that is where my folks lived when my brother and I were born). Although our walks in the woods were not hiking as such, we did tramp through the woods enough hours to gain a love for them that ought to be evident from the many hiking adventures I have taken there since. It was my Dad that helped establish my connection to those woods and give me a comfort level with being in them even when we were just car camping in them.
As an adult, when I started hiking on the trails in Pa in earnest my Dad would often drive me to the trail-head (after dropping off my vehicle at my ending point). One time though I asked him to pick me up at the end of the section of trail I was hiking (in this case the STS). On this occasion, I finished the section of trail a little early so I was examining the next part of the trail (near the Italian Hollow section of the trail) that was across the (dirt) road from the part I just finished. Anyway, I was waiting on side of the road when I saw his vehicle approaching, I stood up, and looked at it as it drove right by me (he was looking on the opposite side of the road where I would have been had I not been curious about the next section). I waved at the retreating vehicle, but he did not see me. After about 5-10 minutes he came back (I think the road ran out after awhile) to see me waiting. I gave him a hard time about it of course. Side note - last summer on my Donut Hole Trail thru-hike I crossed that same section of trail and that memory came back to me very vividly.
Well after that time, and after he entered the nursing home, I would always stop to see him when I finished a hike or a backpacking trip (if it was in PA). Although he did not understand very well what I told him of my hike I always left him with something I had carried with me as a sort of memento. I will miss those post-hike visits very much.
Anyway, thank you Dad for your gift of the love of the outdoors to me, I will think of you every time I step on a trail in Penn's woods or elsewhere.