Hike #1379; Fousetown to Mt Union

Hike #1379: 12/12/20 Fousetown to Mt. Union with Kirk Rohn, Jennifer Tull, Brittany Audrey, James Kohan, Serious Sean Dougherty, Professor John DiFiore, Diane Reider, and David Adams

This next one would be the third in the series to hike the entire Standing Stone Trail, but also another bit of our Juniata Valley series featuring some of the Juniata Division Pennsylvania Canal.

As usual, I want the hikes I'm doing to be more diverse. A full hike on a certain route might not be as interesting as one that covers a lot of different things. 

I tried planning out the entire Standing Stone Trail series from the start, and in doing so, I made a plan for it to work with the 911 National Memorial Trail series.

The 911 Trail passes through the Juniata Valley and connects with the Standing Stone Trail at the base of the 1000 Steps, the most famous spot on the entire trail. 

I didn't want to reach this spot and not do this spot that I have been drooling over for almost two decades, so the Standing Stone Trail had to also be a series. We had just recently done the Juniata Division Pennsylvania Canal as far as McVeytown to the east. Another day hike would take us from there to Mt Union. One more day would take us to the Standing Stone Trail from the west at Huntingdon. 

I decided this time we would follow the trail down the 1000 Steps and across the Juniata River, but then instead of trying to continue to the next bit on the ridge to the south, we would try to trace the old canal to the east and connect to Mt Union. Then, one of the next trips could bring us to that point from the east.

We met in the morning in Mt Union at the Sheetz on Jefferson Street in Mt Union to get some snacks and such to carry us through the day. 

We wouldn't be passing anything on this one, so I wanted for us to be ready.

During the start of the pandemic stuff, I really felt weird doing any hikes this far out, but I learned soon to really love it because things are just normal out there. No one ever wore masks in the stores out there, and pretty much everyone behaved normally. 

Based on the people I talked to out there, no one was getting sick or dying that anyone knew either. It was just business as usual.

When I pulled into the place and got my food, I watched as a State Game Warden pulled into a lot across the street and began watching us. At first I figured it was probably nothing and that he just wanted some food, but there was something not right about this one.

This guy was a long way from State Game Lands. The 1000 Steps were just to the west of there, on the other side of the river, but there was no reason for this guy to be parked across the street watching us for no reason. 

Of course, I did post the store as the meeting point for the hike and a rough description of what we were going to be doing.

I then realized that I probably had one of my haters report me for doing a group hike during pandemic and without a game lands permit.

I'm usually prepared for such situations though, because I don't usually park at the meeting point. I shuttle to the start, and I never post the exact start point for my hikes. 

Further, this time none of us remained parked at Sheetz. We moved to nearby on street parking and piled into two cars to shuttle together.

The guy didn't seem to follow us when we left the Sheetz. On the way, we stopped to scoop up Jim Kohan because he didn't want to do the canal portion, just the Standing Stone.

Even if we had been watched, no one was going to figure out the oddball lot I planned to use in Fousetown, which had no signs or anything on it.

I pretty much didn't think about the oddball thing again for the rest of the day. I sometimes feel like maybe I'm coming across as a paranoid idiot, but considering the craziness that had happened with that girl Kristen not so long before this on a night hike, nothing seems to far fetched.

Jim's car was at the small park before crossing the Juniata River in Mapleton area, and we headed to where we left off in Fousetown. 

The area we parked is not in any way signed or anything. Apparently there is official trail parking nearby that I wasn't aware of, but we didn't use it. 

We were all decked out in our orange clothing, and Serious Sean went super serious with it, wearing not only orange vest and such, but found orange sweat pants, orange hat, and found a ridiculously orange beer to carry, a Harpoon Dunkin Punkin thing, which looked like it came from Dunkin Donuts.

We walked along Rt 655 to the east a bit to where we'd come out of the woods on the last trip, where the road crosses Saddler Creek. Beatty Road goes off to the south from there, and the trail turns onto it briefly with blazes on the utility poles and a small routed sign reading "trail".

The trail parallels a tributary of the creek on a private little access road. There was a guy out working outside of his house on our left as we began to ascend a bit, and we gave a friendly wave.

I figured we wouldn't have a problem because even though hunting season was starting, we were wearing orange and the section of trail with the 1000 Steps ahead is among the most popular in the entire state, let alone the trail. It was obvious though that most people don't venture to this part of it.

We skirted the edge of the field where there was some equipment such as augers and farm trailers, and continued gradually uphill to the near corner of the field. 

We had a bit of a view back toward Fousetown and Big Valley before we entered the woods on more private land.

Up until this point, the Standing Stone Trail had a pretty good treadway with switchbacks and such, but at this point, probably because of the limitations of the land they had to work with, it just shot straight uphill and was really steep. 

This was the cusp of Jacks Mountain, which the trail would mostly follow for quite a while, save for the ups and downs in gaps.

There were nice seasonal views through the trees as we ascended, and there was a round looking summit just ahead, which we could see from the fields where we started going up.

The trail turned into a narrow woods road that followed along a narrow ridge section lower than the peak of the ridge. There was a large wooden reel mounted between two trees and then a camper and small shed when we got to a wider cleared area. The road descended a bit straight ahead, but the trail turned hard left along an escarpment to the east. There was then a good view through the trees of the valley of the Saddler Brook to the north.

The trail emerged on a dirt road and turned left for a bit, and there was one house on the right.

We followed the road for a short bit, and then the trail turned off into the woods to continue south.
It was a rather level section of woods and pretty easy. Serious Sean went way ahead of us through this bit, and some of the group heard yelling ahead.

There was a guy up in a hunting stand directly on the trail in this section, and he was livid. He was already hollering at some of the group ahead of me when I walked up.

He started in with me, telling me that he was already warned we were coming from the guy we saw at the bottom of the hill, and that he only spends a week up here at this point, that they pay to be up there to hunt, and we just ruined his entire day hunting. He said we had to go out there and "blaze our trails" and called us a bunch of "Green tree hugging mother fuckers". I calmly let him know we were just passing through, that we had no intention of causing him any trouble, and didn't think on a designated national scenic trail that anyone would be hunting right on it. 

He went from saying he would come down from the stand and kick my ass to getting more cordial. I even went on to say that maybe the section of trail should have a fall hunting closure, and that many trails do that between certain dates. I'm not against hunters, even though I don't do it myself, and if there had been something on the maps or guides stating that it was closed during  certain dates, I'd have planned more accordingly. 

I even said that I could promise him that after the hike, I would email the Standing Stone Trail supervisor George Conrad and suggest that a fall hunting closure for this section might be appropriate. By that time, he had calmed down a lot. He apologized for letting loose on us, but made it clear he was still unhappy about the situation.

I honestly doubt he'd see much up there anyway. We'd walked enough of these mountains at this point to know that there really aren't that many deer running through, but maybe in this level area there are. He was also smoking a cigarette which I would think would scare them away.

Either way, we left there far more amicably than when we first walked by, and we wished him luck with the rest of his day.

The trail ahead got much steeper as it began to climb to the main part of Jacks Mountain. 

There was a trail register at the top where we signed in, and then continued on a section that I was later told was in season full of beautiful ferns. 

Sometimes when I hear these things I wonder if I chose the wrong time of year and I miss out on something very special. But we'd then miss out on the near constant seasonal views so I don't feel so terrible about it. There's just too much to do in a lifetime to try to do every hike in every season.

We continued on to a lovely spot called Shorb's Summit, where there's a view to the west toward the town of Mill Creek. 

The trail along this ridge top skirts the boundary of Rothrock State Forest land to the left, and State Game Lands 112 to the right. The view was still too hazy because it was early in the day.

Just a little farther on the ridge, we skirted the Huntingdon and Mifflin County border, and then descended slightly over rocks to the first of a long while of following old railroad grades along the cusp of Jacks Mountain.

The Harbison-Walker Refractories Compay quarried ganister from Jacks Mountain, served by both the Pennsylvania Railroad and the East Broad Top Railroad below in the the valley known as Jacks Narrows. Funicular inclines with cable guides were used to haul large wooden ore cars full of material from source to Mt Union area to be transferred to larger trains. Mt Union Silica Bricks were used all over the country.

Ganister was the choice material for the smelting of iron going back many years, and the area was probably quarried for that for some of the early iron furnaces, but by the birth of the American steel industry around 1900, it was a more hot commodity.

Because Jacks Mountain is sto steep especially at the narrows, the continuous natural rock slide kept moss and other stuff from getting on the natural sandstone forms. 

They were from ancient shallow oceans, and the exposure and natural bleaching kept impurities out of the silica and quartzite compounds. The Jacks Mountain material was the highest quality and most accessible in the state.

We had passed similar operations like this before, on the Mid State Trail on Tussey Mountain, or in the aptly named settlement of Ganister near Williamsburg PA, but this was far larger and the funicular grades were far more extensive.

The quarry operation remained in service despite some serious flooding that damaged it in the 1930s, but it closed down permanently in 1952.

The first bits of these rights of way only looked like woods roads for a time, and I wasn't prepared to be finding the quarry grades as early as we did, but it made for rather delightful walking.

Soon, we reached Mill Creek Quarry Vista, one of the most outstanding overlooks of the entire day. 
We could see up the Juniata Valley to the town of Mill Creek, and all the way out to Huntingdon. The view was getting clearer while we were there.

We took a nice long break there and enjoyed the view, and while waiting we came upon another hunter.

This guy was very friendly, and I could tell he was out there as much to enjoy the scenery and the experience as he was for hunting. He pointed where he had come up from the bottom, off trail, and up through the creek valleys. He assured us there were deer up there, but that we just don't see them. He told us that some of his friends don't bother with coming up anything like this, as far as we were, but that he enjoyed it. There are definitely different kinds of hunters; some prefer to sit in the trees and relax, and others just go out on foot. I understand that this guy appreciated us more because he enjoys more similar aspects of it as us.

The curves in the river to the east, and then the farmland and juxtaposition of the adjacent mountains with tributaries making veins in the surface, with late morning sun playing on their shadow definition was just brilliant.

We moved on along the trail, which continued to follow more of the old rail grades. These grades had some very interesting switchbacks with runout areas, although we didn't have to follow the runouts all the way. In some places, we could see in the mossy surfaces where the railroad ties used to sit.

The Ledge Quarry overlook was up next, at a particular wide and level area of former quarrying and railroad grade. There was even a piece of railroad rail still near the edge, now used as a sort of barrier to keep people from getting too close to the side. This is the farthest most of the day trippers seem to go when they come out to visit Jacks Narrows and the 1000 Steps. 

There was an outstanding view to the town of Mapleton from this vantage point, right up through Jacks Narrows. Things were clearing up pretty well. Other hikers were starting to show up in this area, but it seemed like they were just turning back from that point. We got our group shot here and continued along the trail.

There was a view ahead where the scree slopes and grades were still visible, despite having been probably over seventy years since they had seen use.

As we moved on along the grade, the Dinky Engine House came into view below us. This was where the locomotive used to work these grades up on the mountain was stored.

We reached a point where the trail turned away from the railroad grade and onto the first flight of stone steps. As I understand, these steps were not built by quarry workers, but added later for the Standing Stone Trail. They descended to the Dinky Engine House, which we of course had to explore. 

There was opening on the floor but filled flush with stone, where workers probably would have gone under the engine to do work on wheel trucks or whatever. 

We of course had to check out every aspect of the place from floor to roof. Someone had inexplicably written "Hot Dog" on the wall of the thing in a sort of caulk material.

After we had our fill of this site, we headed along the next rail grade out to the next trail intersection, at the very top of the 1000 Steps.
The steps were built in 1936 by the quarry company workers. They would walk from their homes in Mt Union carrying the materials they needed for work, and for the first twenty years of quarry operation, they walked up the funicular grades.

This could prove rather dangerous, and at times they rode the wooden carts either up or down. On at least two occasions, workers were killed in this practice. I would assume that many more were killed than we know of, because they were employing minorities, many of whom were not American citizens and they probably didn't have to record any of it.

We followed the spur trail on the railroad bed around to a great view looking back at the Dinky House, and then further out on the grade to the top of one of the inclines, at the Mt. Union Overlook. The town of Mt Union was visible pretty clearly from there.

There were some stone ruins along this stretch of right of way as well. I'm not sure what they were for. Maybe something to do with cable pulleys.
We headed back to the Standing Stone Trail, where we began our descent of the 1000 Steps.

Actually 1,043 steps, they were rehabilitated for the trail in more recent years.
A lot more people were around this area, and so we had to step out of the way several times in order to let people pass.

I think it was Serious Sean and Jim that were dissatisfied with only going down once, and they ran partway back up and back down again for added exercise.

The steps are incredibly impressive, weaving around along a cleft in the mountain side. They reach lower levels of the railroad grades, follow them for a short distance, and then continue to head down. Each step is amazingly stable and level.
There were regular views on the way down that made it that much more impressive to walk. 
It's one of those extremely popular properties that really should not be owned by State Game Commission, because there is really no way anyone is going to have a successful hunt on this crazy step slope that always has a ton of people. It would be much better as a DCNR property, and do a land swap with some other adjacent piece of forest or park land.
We did not follow the grade all the way to the bottom of the steps. The Standing Stone Trail reaches what might have been a standard gauge railroad grade some distance above Rt 22 where there is a kiosk, and then turns right to follow it for a good distance.
We took a break there to let everyone catch up, and then turned to the right to follow that railroad grade.
This grade was a bit different than the ones above. Maybe it was used later, maybe it was standard gauge, but it seemed a bit better built. There was a spot where it looked like it used to hug the hillside more, but was filled over to make more straight ahead as well.

There were times when tehre were openings in the trees and views across to the other side of the Juniata River, which would be our route once we got down.
I noted that we could see a few remnants of the Juniata Division Pennsylvania Canal below the former Pennsylvania Railroad on the other side, and figured we might be able to walk some of it when we get there.
Jacks Mountain on the other side had rather obvious remnants of more grades going up it from ganister quarrying over there. I would love to go back and explore some of that, but I believe much of that is still private land.
We reached a bend at one point, and through the trees I could see the remnants of the piers that held the Pennsylvania Canal aqueduct over the river ahead. 
The rail bed took us beside some really narrow rock faces and attractive views, more of the old canal remnants, and eventually terminated near Jacks Mountain Storage on Rt 22. The railroad probably used to continue through there, but got obliterated through development.
The trail went across 22 and onto a gravel road through sparse woods heading south.
There was a bit of a view on the way down toward the river of Jacks Mountain ahead.
The trail emerged on Oriskany Road and turned right for a bit. We then turned to the left into Mapleton Riverside Park where there is a shelter for trail users and some really nice big trees. Jim had his car left here, so he headed out, and the rest of us continued across the Juniata River following the trail route into Mapleton.

There was a burned out old house, which looked to have recently happened, on the side of the road just before crossing the river.
Once we were on the other side, we turned left to follow Railroad Street in Mapleton, leaving the Standing Stone Trail for the rest of the day.

When the road ended, we continued parallel with the tracks along the Juniata River heading to the east.
The 911 Trail actually follows Rt 22 through Jacks Narrows, which is an absolutely terrible route to walk, and if I followed all of the designated walking routes on roads followed by that trail, I would ruin Metrotrails because no one would want to do them. By shifting focus to the Pennsylvania Canal, it made it far more interesting.

We continued along looking down and across for remnants of the old canal. It hadn't quite crossed yet when we were just out of Mapleton.
It wasn't all that far before we got to the point where the aqueduct had been.
I was the only one that really wanted to see it more closely.
I found where the east abutment was, and matched up as best I could the view I had from an historic 1870s image of the aqueduct.
When the Pennsylvania Railroad purchased most of the Pennsylvania Canal from the state, they often times covered over it entirely.
In the area ahead, the railroad was already double tracked while the canal was still in service, but with the upgrades that took place around 1907 on this branch, much of the canal ahead got covered over when it went to four tracks wide.

I walked along where the towpath would have been for a bit, but then came back up beside the tracks more closely. I figured we wouldn't get to see a whole lot of it.

We continued walking along, and just after Deep Hollow Run flows off of Jacks Mountain, there is a private house off to the right. The access road along the tracks leads to that.
A guy came out of the house and asked where we were going, and if we were okay. He even offered to give us a ride into Mt. Union if we needed it.

I kindly declined and let him know we were looking for the old canal remnants. He reminded us to just stay off the tracks because they don't like anyone walking on them. Just remain on the side. I said we would, and we were off.

We made our way along, and I watched to the left of me closely, and started seeing a towpath emerge from under the railroad bed. When it started to look substantial enough to stand on, plus when there was a train coming and I wanted to be farther from the tracks, this was perfect walking.

It ended up being far more rewarding than I'd anticipated, as we came upon a much unexpected old lock. Some of the masonry was still very good, and there was even some amazing metal hardware left in some of the lock walls despite having been abandoned for over 120 years and being right within the flood plane of the Juniata.

I double checked all of the historic 1870s atlases of the county, but I couldn't find anything that gave me what lock number this was. For some reason, Russel Love removed me from the Pennsylvania Canal group despite my being a fan of his work, so I couldn't check his resources.

The only thing I could come across was a historic photograph showing the lock beside the railroad before it was quadruple tracked. In doing so, I found out that this was actually a double lock, and what we were seeing was only the westbound of the two locks. There was a lock house along the edge of the river as well, although there was no obvious remnant of that.

After the lock, the canal dipped back beneath the railroad tracks again, and we tried to stay closer to the river as best we could. I noted some rip rap rocks that made up the river side of the towpath wall along the way, now mostly covered over by the railroad fill.
We continued on, and there was soon an abandoned building below us to the left, along the river side, as well as bridge piers going across the river.

The original bridge that was located at this site washed out in what they refer to as the St Patrick's Day Flood, I think in 1932. The steel stanchion bridge was replaced with another with concrete abutments that still remain today. I assume this also was in service until abandonment of the operation in 1952.

I found a block with lock notches etched into it along the river in this section, and I assumed that would be part of the old Pennsylvania Canal, as we were downstream from the lock site where such a thing might have been necessary.
After exploring this site a bit, we continued on to the east, staying close to the river as best we could in search of canal remnants.
At first I thought we might find something below, because the river curves slightly north and leaves a swath of trees between it and the tracks, but then I realized it must still be covered over again.
Further proof of this was that the Pennsylvania Railroad took over more of the canal here around the realignment time of 1907. The original Pennsylvania Railroad turned to the south a bit and paralleled Pennsylvania Avenue through Mt Union, and had its interchange with the East Broad Top. The newer alignment stayed a little further to the north. The old alignment remained in service as a sort of local only thing for the industry, but the new line would have taken over the canal. I think some of it might be part of Poplar Street heading into Mt Union, but then switches to the other side. Water Street appears to be the former route of the canal about half way through the town and to where it crossed over the Juniata River again.
It was getting too dark to keep looking along that slope, and so we made our way back up.
We skirted the tracks for just a bit more back into Mt Union, and then used the stairs that lead down from the stone arch culvert on Jefferson Street to reach the Sheetz.
It looks as though the Sheetz we met at happens to be right in the former location of the canal in town.

We couldn't see to do much else on this day anyway, and so it would have to wait for the next Pennsylvania Canal/911 hike.

It was really an outstanding day with both famous and popular points, and amazing discoveries of long lost infrastructure so close to, yet so unknown to the typical hikers that pass through.

That's really what it's about. Doing the best of what there is, as well as the best of what we didn't know.