AN OCTOBER EXPERIENCE
Preparation
I began preparing for this trip not long after finishing my last one. As usual, life happened, and I ended up pushing this adventure back about three weeks. During that time, the biggest change was the weather—night temperatures dropped from the mid-50s to the 30s. That meant adjusting some gear to handle the colder conditions. The two main changes were swapping out my blanket for a sleeping bag with thermal lining and adding warmer layers to my clothing setup. When everything was packed, my load ended up weighing 9 pounds more (44.4 pounds).
With the extra weight, I had to rethink my packing strategy. I shifted some items around to keep the heavier ones closer to my back for better balance. Despite these adjustments, I wasn’t happy about the added weight, especially knowing how tough it would be on climbs. It made me question my packing choices a few times. As always, I sent out an itinerary to close family before leaving. This time, in addition to emailing a file, I printed a physical copy so they’d have it on hand. It was fun to put together and practical as well. I didn’t double-check the weather again before sending it out, but I wasn’t about to update it after the fact.
Once the itinerary was set, I turned my attention to navigation. I made my own topographic maps for this trip, using my home printer and laminating them for durability. It took some time, but it was worth it. The maps provided a clear view of the terrain, which gave me confidence for navigation, especially since I planned to explore some off-trail sections.
Given the delay and the colder weather, I had to mentally reset for this trip. I was looking forward to experiencing the solitude of the Archers Fork Trail and seeing its unique features, like the Great Cave and the natural rock bridge. I knew the cold would make it a different challenge altogether, but that’s just part of what made these trips memorable.
I chose this trail because of the unique landmarks and its remoteness. It is considered one of the most remote locations in the Wayne National Forest. It offered a chance to see some awesome animals like black bears and bobcats—something the last trail did not.
As I got ready to set off, there were a few things I was looking forward to testing out: my small table for cooking and strap padding for my backpack. I believed both would improve my experience in a positive way.
Trailhead
It was a gray, crisp, drizzly morning. Bullet holes riddled the trailhead display. One car was already there when I got to the trailhead, and another pulled in not long after.
From the start, I wasn’t feeling the sense of peace I normally have out in nature. A nagging feeling embraced me as I got my pack on and headed out to the trail. I looked back at my car with doubt in my heart, wondering if I even wanted to venture into this forest. That feeling wasn’t something I was accustomed to, and it unnerved me.
The Trail
I got about twenty feet onto the trail when I heard the second car’s tires crunching on the gravel as it pulled into the trailhead lot. Frustration sparked in me—I knew at that point I’d have people walking up behind me. Oh boy, this is starting out great, right?
I decided to keep moving, figuring once I got deeper into the woods, I’d feel better. The hike to the loop split was easy enough, and about a quarter mile in, there was a steep decline. But even then, I hadn’t shaken the negative feelings. Serious thoughts of turning around crossed my mind. I figured I was just annoyed by the trailhead and hoped things
would get better once I was deeper in the forest.
The hike down the decline was steep, and the exercise got my blood flowing. For a moment, it took my mind off things, but that didn’t last long. As I continued, I heard voices coming down the hill behind me. The trail was overgrown, and I started looking for a spot where I could step off and let them pass.
It was a couple with a small dog. They passed and I caught up with them at the Great Cave, and again at the natural land bridge.
The couple was pleasant and we chatted briefly. Once I got past the last tourist attraction, I was glad, because they turned around after the natural land bridge and I felt things would get better.
As I continued on, I noticed less and less trash on the ground and then none. Well, until I got to the old oil and gas junk littered throughout the forest. What a depressing thing to see to say the least! All the negative feelings this forest was giving me had not gone away.
I was starting to think I should have listened to my instincts from the beginning, but still I continued on. Now my thoughts turned to water. I took out my map to study where I should be to able to restock my water bladder and where I planned to camp. The first water restock option was a coupe miles following a switchback down to the valley, and my first planned camp was a couple miles beyond that up a very steep incline.
Choices needed to be made. After studying the map, I decided to beeline it down the mountain cutting at least a mile off my trek to where there should be water. Once I see the water, I know I’m going to feel better, if only slightly.
At the water source….
The Decision
It was bone dry. As soon as I saw the dry leaves blowing around in the creek bed, my
heart sank. I stood there in shock, scanning up and down the bed in utter dismay.
I followed what used to be a stream for a good half mile before finally taking the pack off my sweaty back on that chilly afternoon. I unpacked my chair and sat down in the middle of the trail, just thinking. I sat there for a long time.
Many things were running through my head, but one question kept pushing to the front: What am I going to do right now?
I pulled my map back out, even though I knew exactly what I was going to see. I needed to reconfirm what I already knew—that all the streams up ahead should be flowing to this location. If it’s dry here, it’s dry everywhere ahead of me.
I was about three and a half miles in, thanks to my shortcut down the mountain. If I turned back now, I could be at the trailhead by 6pm. With a third of my water bladder gone, I could possibly make it close to the trailhead, camp overnight, and head out in the morning. It had been a chilly, windy, drizzly day, and I figured I’d make the final decision once I got closer.
The hike back was one of deep reflection about my initial instincts and why I had them. I have my own thoughts about this and I only believe where given to me by my close connection with nature itself.
I checked my map once I got back to the area of my beeline. Got my compass in hand and beelined it back up the mountain. I saw some cool boulders and nearly got stuck with my pack in some thick vegetation, but I made back up nearly exactly at the spot I started down.
I decided I wasn’t going to spend the night. I just didn’t feel like it. With how the whole journey had gone to this point. I didn’t want the hassle of setting up camp and then tearing it down in the morning. It should never feel like a hassle. This forest was like oil and I was the water.
The rest of the trek back to my truck was miserable as I passed old mining debris- some of which was still operational and crushed beer cans on the ground.
Final Thoughts
As frustrating as this trip was, it taught me more than I expected. I didn’t realize that right away, though—I was pretty pissed off once I got out of there. But after calming down and reflecting, the clarity of the experience and the lessons learned started to reveal themselves. Talking about the trip with my dad helped speed those revelations up, I believe.
Although my trip to Archers Fork Trail did not pan out the way I planned, I did succeed in adjusting my plans to suit the situation I found myself in. Initially, I felt like I had let myself down, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I needed to figure out a way to complete this trail. These are feelings that probably many in similar situations would experience.
In the end, it’s not about conquering every mile. It’s about adapting, learning, and knowing when to listen to your instincts. Archers Fork reminded me that every trip has value, even when it doesn’t go according to plan. Sometimes, the lessons that stay with you the longest come from the journeys you don’t finish.
I hope you enjoyed reading about my latest recount as much as I didn’t enjoy Archers Fork Trail lol. Until the next time, be well.
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