Google Maps view of the "rock" in the lower right. The campgrounds is in the upper left.
I had no reason to think otherwise for more than a year. By all appearances, we weren’t in a valley. We were in wooded campsites surrounding a grass field with a pool and pavilion for activities. You had to go slightly downhill to reach the tent camping area, but you never paid much attention to the geography. Towering trees behind the camping area blocked the view and because they seemed to be of even height for a long distance, you didn’t see the terrain. But there is indeed a rock and the view is awesome! The rock is called the Tri-State Rock because it offers views of New York and Pennsylvania from its summit in New Jersey
I don’t know how to describe the climb one takes to get to the view. It is too small to call it a mountain and way too large to call it a hill. The uphill angle is quite steep, anywhere from 30° to 45° depending on where you are on the trail that leads to the top. And it isn’t a rock, and it makes a boulder look like a pebble. I’m sure it is at least half a mile long. And the angle definitely is greater than 45°. I think it is granite, but I have no idea.
Looking up the rock from the campground. The shadowed area at the bottom was once the home of many rattlesnakes.
I discovered the rock yesterday while taking Pup, the pup who is no longer a puppy, on a walk. I visited a deserted area at the top of the tent camping area and found myself at its base. I’m an old man with a bum knee, weak ankles and shoulders with torn rotator cuffs. There is no way I could have climbed the rock itself (which is actually against campground rules). So I talked to John, the manager, about a trail and there was one.
So the next day, Pup and I took the nature trail ascending to the top. Within a couple of hundred yards my lungs were heaving as I panted from fatigue. The trail was steep, very steep. And I began the first of my frequent rest stops. I would estimate that the steepest part of the walk was about the first quarter mile of what was probably a mile-and-a-half trail. But it was uphill all the way. As I panted, Pup had a huge smile on his face. He was in his element. As I thought about it, I realized that Pup’s breed, Corgi, was bred to herd sheep in the rocky highlands of Wales. Those short little legs, which handicap him on normal terrain, were natural for climbing rocks and jumping over fallen trees. He kept pulling me; something I was rather grateful for as the climb continued. I thought of a song called “I’m climbing my mountain one step at a time.” It is from a Christian children’s video featuring Psalty (pronounced Salty, but spelled like Psalms) a singing songbook. And so I did take things one step at a time, though is did miss the GORP* Psalty brought on his hike. Here's the link:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QM46ME7pAoU&feature=related
Note angle of hill.
At one point, I stepped on a pine cone and lost my footing. I realized how easy it would be to break an ankle and what a fool I was for having left my cell phone back at the trailer to recharge. Memo to self: since you’re crazy enough to go through the wild territories of the Northern part of the United States, get yourself a phone with a GPS or at least bring the car’s GPS with you. It could save your damn fool ass.
While I had seen the rock from the bottom, it was not visible until I reached the end of the trail. And at first I was rather disappointed. At this point, there were many trees blocking the view of the valley below. I thought of a friend who is terrified of heights; and realized that without any barrier between the edge and myself, it was quite scary. Though I lived in many places as a child, a small cliff where I climbed backed one of the homes. I remember slipping on ice one day and falling down perhaps 60 feet. I sprained a lot of muscles and was sore for a week. I didn’t dare tell my mother because she would get angry. But the memory of the fall came back vividly as I thought how long a fall here would be. Memo to self: Besides the phone and GPS, let someone know where you are.
I turned to the North and realized that there was more cliff just about six feet higher and gingerly walked to it holding onto trees in fear of falling. Here the view was incredible. I could see across the Delaware River into the Pocono Mountains and my eyes went up the river to see the Catskills where I had just spent some time. There was a wonderful wind, about 20 mph according to the weather station on television. It cooled my overheated body and I enjoyed its caress as sweat evaporated from my face. There was only an occasional mild breeze at the campsite.
Top: View from the rock.
Bottom: Enlarged part showing truck on Interstate Highway 84 Bridge across the Delaware River.
I could see much of the area where I had lived for the past few years. I could see the top of the Wal-Mart and other stores. I watched as traffic moved across the Route 84 Bridge across the Delaware River between Pennsylvania and New York as it skirted the border between New York and New Jersey. I noticed the big grin on Pup’s face and gave him an extensive and well-deserved petting.
My pastor used to speak of “mountaintop experiences” when one became closer to God. I prayed a lot. I asked for guidance for the future as well as forgiveness over the past. I especially prayed about my relationships with women. The last year or so has been confusing and painful to myself and especially others. It is something I need to understand. Sometimes I feel I never will be ready for a relationship and other times I deeply want to have someone to live with, perhaps even marry. The thought of either can drive me into a major panic. It seems that every woman I know has faults. I know no one is perfect, but I use these faults to ensure that relationships end instead of enjoying the differences. They are barriers I use to avoid the good things. I suspect it is a result of my embattled time of divorce. Though I hope it is behind me now, it never seemed to end.
Finally I prayed that I would not fall down and break my crown and have Pup come tumbling after as I descended the trail.
Pup enjoyed the downhill part even more as he led me down the trail. He seemed to think of it as lots of fun instead of hard work. As we descended, I kept looking for the tree I had laid a small log on to mark the place where the trail splits. I was told that if I missed that point, I would wind up at a horse ranch and have to walk several miles to get back to the camp. I spotted the tree and looked up. There were two bright orange arrows painted on the trunk and a couple of hiker signs. I hadn’t noticed them on the uphill part of the journey.
We finally arrived back at camp and entered the trailer. Pup took a long drink of water and decided a nap was in order while I wrote this piece. After days of rain, the sun is out and the mild temperature and easy breezes make this one of the best days I’ve had in a long while. Hope your day is just as good – unless, of course, you have other plans.
*GORP = Good Ole Raisins and Peanuts
