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With the success of last Spring's Alternative Duck Hole Trip on the Chuck Keiper East Loop, the cadre of die hard Duck Hole fans was determined to make another spring trip work again this year. The location was obvious- we'd return to complete the entire 53 mile Chuck Keiper Trail by hiking the 31.5 mile Chuck Keiper West Loop. Holding the trip a month later (early April as opposed to early March) promised us longer days to cover more miles, allowing us to hike 30+ in the same time it took us to cover just over 20 the previous year. And with the warmer weather we were practically guaranteed to avoid conditions like the snow we'd encountered the year prior (or so we thought). A flurry of emails in the weeks leading up to the trip allowed us to iron out the details- our itinerary, who was coming (the same crew of Jackson, Sam, Bryan, and Sawyer, plus a newcomer- Jared), and build excitement for the trip.
As is typical with a group of different folks arriving from diverse directions, our rendezvous plans were a bit... convoluted. We again selected a 3 day, 2 night itinerary, starting and ending once again at the East Branch Swamp trailhead on the connector trail that divides the full CKT into the East and West Loops. Bryan and I elected to arrive a day early and camp out about a mile in on the East Branch Trail in a moderately-large site just south of Coon Run Road- exactly as we'd done the previous year.
And so Thursday night saw me arriving at the trailhead, packing up, and setting out in the dark to meet up with Bryan in camp. I'd remembered how muddy the East Branch Trail was the prior year- and had also read that the Little Beaver Trail, which provides an alternate route around East Branch Swamp, was hard to follow but dry. Dry sounded pretty good, so set out in search of the Little Beaver Trail.
Suffice to say, the comments about the Little Beaver Trail being hard to follow weren't wrong. No tread of this trail exists, and even many of the painted yellow blazes that mark it are faded. Following this trail in the daylight would be a significant navigational challenge. To follow it in the dark, as I was, demanded every bit of attention I had to give. Several times I was ready to give up and just shoot a compass bearing and bushwhack south to Coon Run Road- and each time I managed to find another faint blaze that set me on the path. (Still worth it to keep my boots dry, though.)
Eventually, I wandered into camp where I found Bryan. He'd carried in a group tarp, and as rain was in the forecast for the evening, he'd pitched it over his tent. I found enough room under the tarp for my tent next to him, and soon I was turned in for the evening as well.
Rain started not long after I crawled into my sleeping bag. I was certainly glad to be warm and dry and snug in my tent, under a ginormous tarp.
Around 3:00 in the morning I woke up to a sound that was definitely not rain- sleet and snow were hitting the tarp overhead. I'd known that the temperature was forecast to drop quite low and anticipated that we might see snow, but I still groaned inwardly a bit at the thought. In any case, we were well prepared and it'd take more than a few inches of the white stuff to stop us, so I rolled over and went back to sleep.
After daylight dawned, we woke up to veritable Winter wonderland.
We had a little bit of time to wait for our first companion to arrive- Jared was set to join us sometime that morning- so we leisurely broke down camp and ate breakfast. The remainder of our group- Sam and Sawyer- weren't able to arrive until late in the afternoon and so would be playing sweep, following in our tracks. Our agreed upon destination for Friday night- a campsite somewhere on West Branch, 9 miles of hiking across relatively level terrain away- would allow them to follow in our wake and thus complete the entire trail without having to traverse epic miles in the dark.
Soon, Jared had arrived amidst a swirling flurry of snow flakes, and we were ready to set out for the day.
Apart from being longer, the Chuck Keiper West Loop is almost a perfect mirror-image of the East Loop. The south half, which we'd be traversing first as we were hiking the loop CW, was characterized by shallow drainages, with level or gently undulating terrain and few significant climbs along the way. The north half, in contrast, contains multiple deep valleys, with climbs frequently approaching (and a couple even exceeding) 1,000 feet of elevation gain. If the south half of the West Loop were anything like what we'd experienced on the East Loop prior, we'd be hiking through a lot of open forest on easy trails, able to make good time.
For the most part this was accurate. For the most part. The trail was generally well marked, and usually well maintained, but there were a few challenges along the way. The "obvious" path lead us to mistakenly cross Swamp Branch too soon- and we lost some time here until we re-crossed the stream and found the correct route (and the correct crossing, a well-built branch some distance upstream).
Open forest between Swamp Branch and Penrose Road provided nice scenery as we hiked along.
The trail got brushy between Penrose and Hicks Roads. At one point, one of my companions even remarked, "is this trail maintained by a vertically-challenged person?" Indeed, there were a large number of branches growing out into the trail, perfectly at head height, forcing us to repeatedly duck, dodge, or walk around them. We also missed a turn and briefly lost the trail again just before the Hicks Road crossing.
Despite the setbacks, however, we found ourselves starting down into the West Branch drainage with plenty of daylight remaining. Prior research had promised us 2 nice sites on the downstream end of the trail section that follows West Branch, and we'd elected to spend Friday night at one of these sites. Finding the sites themselves proved to be a slight challenge- we found a bridge across West Branch, which we'd initially assumed lead to one of the sites, but it turned out both sites were in fact still some distance downstream. We selected the site that was more downstream of the two, as it had plenty of room for our full group, and starting setting up camp. The snow had turned to light rain during the day, and now the precipitation was tapering off entirely.
Sam and Sawyer showed up in camp just before midnight, along with a four-legged companion, Maya. Before turning in, I quizzed them on their experience- they'd made some of the same navigational mistakes as we had, but by following our tracks they were more quickly able to set themselves right than we had. They also indicated that they'd been smelling the smoke from our campfire ever since they'd started down the West Branch drainage, about a mile back up the trail. "It was like a beacon of light and warmth guiding us to the campsite."
Even though our planned campsite for Saturday night- Burns Run- was some 14 miles away, with some substantial uphills along the way, we still took time for a somewhat relaxed morning in camp. Many of us hadn't seen in other in person for ~6 months, so there was some catching up in order as we ate breakfast and broke down camp.
It also didn't take long for recreational beverages to make an appearance alongside breakfast.
Maya waited very patiently for us to pack up, even though she was by far the most excited member of our party to get moving.
And after some morning stretches, we donned our packs and set off.
Our day started out with a mild climb up towards De Haas Road. A short distance before crossing the road, we crossed a pipeline ROW- and got temporarily confused here by orange blazes running along the ROW. It turns out that PA snowmobile trails are also marked with orange blazes, just like the official State Forest hiking trails- and one such trail follows the ROW here. A quick consultation with the map revealed our mistake and soon we were back on the right path.
After crossing De Haas, the CKT turned south along an old logging railroad grade into the Eddy Lick Run drainage amidst stands of impressively-sized white pine. The snow had been melting all throughout the night and morning, and indeed by now there was little of it left.
Eddy Lick Run itself was crossed on another impressive bridge. There was a nice campsite on the far side that we'd initially considered spending a night at when originally formulating our itinerary- and it turned out it was just as well that we'd chosen not to do so. Despite being nice, the site was rather small.
The next several miles of trail provided us with more pleasant hiking along a gentle uphill grade on another old logging railroad bed. We passed a few more small but nice campsites along the way, as well as the remains of a splash dam, and some nice stretches of creek with scenic riffles and cascades. This was a very pretty stretch of trail.
Our original intent had been to break for lunch near Yost Run Falls, which lay partway down the next drainage along (you guessed it) Yost Run. However, while crossing PA 144 at the height of land between Eddy Lick and Yost Runs, the warmth of the sun amid open hardwoods still without leaves was too much to resist. Soon, wet gear and clothes alike were spread out near the PA 144 parking area to dry while we relaxed and soaked up the sunlight and ate lunch.
With lunch in our bellies and our gear (mostly) dried out, we felt renewed vigor as we started down into the Yost Run drainage. Not far from the height of land we passed Yost Run Falls, a small but very scenic waterfall.
The rest of the Yost Run drainage had it's moments- cascades here and there, and a few small (and infrequently used) but otherwise nice campsites spread out along the trail. The trail itself, however, left a bit to be desired. As with the Boggs Run section of the East Loop we'd traversed the previous year, the Yost Run stretch of trail appeared to have been extensively re-routed at some point in the not-too-distant past, from the bottom of the hollow to lengthy side hilling sections midway up the side slope. Not only was there a distinct lack of any significant bench dug into the hillside to facilitate traversing the side slope, it was also clear that we were the first group to hike the trail since leaf fall in Autumn. What little tread there was on the steep slopes was buried deep beneath slippery leaves, which at times were knee deep. It wasn't long before our ankles started letting us know that we were to pay the price for traversing such a steep side hill, and the occasional slip on the leaves sent members of our party sliding down the hill (and no doubt incurring a few light bruises in the process). Some significant work is sorely needed on this stretch of trail to bring it up to even any sort of minimum standard for trail maintenance.
Continued in next post...
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