It took me nine days to complete the 130-mile circuit of the Black Forest and Susquehannock Trails. My supplies held out, though they wouldn’t have lasted much longer. I did a couple of 20-mile days, but usually went for between 14-16, with only around eight miles to cover on the last day.
My pace wasn’t anything to brag about, at least among hyper-competitive (mildly-irritating) hardcore backpackers; but then again, the terrain was reasonably difficult and the trails were often overgrown. I could have packed lighter if I had been willing to eat less, but I had proper backpacking meals each night. Even so, I managed to drop a bunch of weight by the time I got home (and I kept that off until the holidays).
Beaver Meadows around Bobsled Hollow on the Susquehannock Trail. This area is truly lovely, though hopelessly overgrown. When I passed through here in the summer of 2024, I encountered a group of five young Mennonite women who had been out hiking for a week. They camped about a quarter-mile from the shelter I was staying at.
That night, there was a huge thunderstorm that brought down several trees. I heard one fall in the direction of the Mennonites’ camp, so I went out after the storm had passed to check on them. A big tree had indeed blown down right next to their tents, but thankfully they were all unharmed…had they pitched their tents a few feet over, their hike would have been prematurely terminated.
Later, I passed by them a few times on the trail. The last I saw of them was when they were all ascending through the forest up a steep slope, dutifully covered up in their old-timey garb. Mind you, this was in the middle of June. Tough gals.
Surprisingly, this appealing vista is often regarded as the worst section of the Susquehannock Trail. It’s actually a clearing for a gas pipeline. You can’t really tell from the photo, but the incline here is quite steep. Walking over this in the middle of the summer is hot (and ticky). It was no fun in June 2024. But in early autumn 2025, it was nice and cool. Spending a few miles out in the open was a welcome respite from the claustrophobic forest.
This is back on the Black Forest Trail. The connector I took between the Susquehannock and the Black Forest is called the South Link Trail. It was by far the sketchiest part of the hike; there’s no path, just a series of faint yellow blazes on trees down through a rocky valley.
There are some exquisitely painful stretches where the way forward is through waist-high stinging nettles. You really don’t want to do this hike in shorts! That said, the part of the South Link Trail close to the terminus with the Black Forest Trail is, for my money, one of the most scenic areas I’ve been to in Pennsylvania. It’s a giant canyon of endless ferns. The slopes sort of merge into the forest canopy as they rise, so you don’t get any sense of where they end. From the bottom of the valley, it seems like they go on forever. It’s actually a bit oppressive, but beautiful and oppressive are not mutually exclusive.
Climbing up out of Callahan Run on the Black Forest Trail. You can see lots of nettles on the ground, but this is nothing compared to the South Link Trail. The only time I saw a big group of people on this trip was when I was camping about a mile from here, at a lovely spot where Callahan Run collects up a few other smaller rills and starts to have pools that are big enough for fish. I had set up my tent and tarp and was already gathering firewood when five or six extreme sports enthusiasts came bounding down the trail. They were running with trekking poles, which I had never seen before.
I hadn’t seen a soul the entire day, and hadn’t seen souls like these folks the entire trek, so I wondered for a moment if my mind was playing tricks. They seemed about as surprised to see me as I was to see them, which slowed their momentum temporarily. Then they started complaining to me about the lack of water on the trail, which hadn’t been a problem for me. They asked me where they could get some, and I pointed to the stream and said “this creek right here.” They filled up and bounded back up the slopes, their brightly colored exercise gear fading gradually into the verdure.
It was time to go home…
Patrick Rogers 