I started at the end of August, and finished at the end of September. I started in the south, and finished in the north. I spent the “better” part of five days walking into autumn.
For a long time I’d been dreaming over my map of the Interloken Trail, through the Finger Lakes National Forest east of Seneca Lake. For a long time I’d been longing to make the hike, and in August I finished the Crystal Hills Trail. Twelve miles, I said to myself. An hour from home. I can do this comfortably in four or five out-and-back hikes.
I started at the southern end, on seasonal Burnt Hill Road north of Bennettsburg. In just a few minutes I wished I had my camera, for I was walking through a gap in a stone wall that made me feel like I was hiking with my dad, back home in Rhode Island. Acorns and hickories spotted the trail. It was a green and leafy walk through the forest, with just a hint of fall to come. But after a couple of miles I broke out of the woods into grassy space by the Burnt Hill Pond, a good spot to take a seat on a boulder and indulge in some peanut butter crackers.
Pushing onward, the trail got a little rocky and little bumpy… nothing hard to manage, just enough to keep you alert. I crossed the Gorge Trail and reached the Burnt Hill Trail. Almost three miles — 2.9, to be exact. About face, and back to the car.
For my next hike I parked at Matthews Road and doubled back southward six-tenths of a mile to reach my previous stopping point, then back to Matthews and on to the north from there. Here I was crossing into a pasture… the national forest permits grazing… and the apples on a large lone tree caught the morning sun, every one of them clamoring that although it might be still be warm, fall indeed was here.
Up till now I’d been hiking in forest, but now I could see for miles off to the westward. Not to Seneca Lake — it was too low. But I could see all across the forests and fields of Hector, to the heights above Rock Stream and Dresden in Seneca’s west shore… a tremendous view. After the pasture I was back in the woods, and shortly after I reached Blueberry Patch Campground on Picnic Area Road I was at mile 4.9.
When I parked there for my next walk, the day was damp and drizzly, following a night of HEAVY rains. Veteran hiker Ed Sidote had told us that the Interloken was a wet trail. I hadn’t experienced that yet, but on this day I could see his point.
I’d had the sense to wear my L.L. Bean duck shoes instead of my New Balance sneakers, and a good move it was, too! There were long muddy stretches to navigate, and even the boardwalks were wet enough to be tricky and slippery. The brush approaching Foster Pond was soaked, and the little outlet stream swollen where you have to ford.
BUT — I walked the whole way through a yellow wood. The leaves had changed, and even though their trees were various species, they’d just about all turned yellow, together. Now MANY acorns and hickories littered my way as I pushed on to my turning-back point, the northernmost crossing of Backbone Trail. Mile 7.4.
On my next expedition I parked at Searsburg Road, went south to Backbone, and once again doubled back to the car. Then I crossed the road and passed through another gate into another pasture. For that matter, I passed through a herd of black angus, who seemed puzzled by my presence rather than otherwise. Even so I didn’t want to take anyone by surprise, so I kept up a steady chant of ho, boss… ho, boss…though of course it’s very likely that they don’t understand Rhode Island bovine anyhow.
The cattle have beaten so many paths through this pasture that I had to thrash around for a while to find the gate on the far side. When you enter through the southern gate, you’ll see a small grove of trees to your left in the field. Make like General Pickett and angle toward the trees, then the gate’s on the same line at the other side.
After a bit more hiking I was chest deep in brush and flowers, especially aster (both white and blue) and goldenrod, passing along the lovely Teeter Pond, cicadas singing out the summer. Beavers have been active here, perhaps within minutes, to judge from the pile of wood chips. It seems that this one has joined the trail maintenance volunteers, as he’s gnawing through a tree that’s fallen across the way. I have an affectionate feeling for beavers, the more so as my Mayflower ancestor teamed up with Miles Standish, John Alden, and two other guys to buy a monopoly in the Plymouth fur trade.
A few steps past Teeter Pond I found Seneca Road — mile 9.8 — and turned around.
Two days later, back to the parking area on Seneca Road (a washboardy seasonal road), and through the pasture gate into Seneca County. At first the way follows an abandoned road, along a line of maples, but then ducks into the woods — still gloriously yellow. I think of many walks over many autumns with my father, who passed away in April at 87; he’d love this one. The track is now rocky, dark, and tunnel-like, and at one point carpeted with apples. I haven’t seen much wildlife in these trips, but after half an hour or so I scare off a garter snake enjoying a patch of fall sunlight. I greet some horseback riders, and then… Parmenter Road… mile 12.0. The end.
After some water and peanut butter crackers I hoist the backpack again, and thoroughly annoy that garter snake by coming back through. A hairy woodpecker poses perfectly above me. In the long gentle slope up to the pasture I’m in that shadowy yellow tunnel again, but up ahead is the tunnel’s end, an inviting square of bright blue sky. Ten minutes across the pasture, and I’ve done the Interloken Trail, twice (think about it — once each way)… and I even beat bow season. Back to the car. On my way. Home.