Exploring Bilger’s Rocks

I participated in this event as part of my commitment to Centred Outdoor’s Outdoor Leadership Cohort. I recommend participating in their events throughout the Summer and Fall seasons. You can check out their schedule on their website. Please consider supporting Centred Outdoors and Clearwater Conservancy today.

On the last Saturday in July, I loaded up the Jeep and headed up the mountain to Bilger’s Rock in Clearfield County. My Mom and sister were tagging along to enjoy a picnic and explore the outcrop with Centred Outdoors. According to some of my Clearfield County friends, visiting Bilger’s Rock is a local rite of passage. For me, living just over an hour away, I hadn’t had an opportunity to visit the rock city.

The night before, I checked my trusty 1990 copy of Roadside Geology of Pennsylvania for any information it could provide to geologically prepare myself for the visit. The entry for Bilger’s Rock was brief- “This rock city developed in highly cross-bedded sandstones of the Pottsville group. The sandstone is a single bed 20-25 ft. thick, broken along widely separated joints” (Van Diver, 1990).

I also read about Bilger’s Rock in Pennsylvania Caves & Other Rocky Roadside Wonders. The author, Kevin Patrick, had much more to say, covering a rough outline of the development of Bilger’s Rock. Initially deposited at least 300 million years ago, the outcrop was eventually exposed to the elements. The large “streets” are from frost wedging, specifically from a periglacial climate which has long since passed.

In more recent human history, the property on which Bilger’s Rock is located was once owned by homesteader Jacob Bilger. The acreage was later purchased in a sheriff sale by a company that quarried and mined in Clearfield County. Miraculously, Bilger’s Rock was left alone and became a local tourist spot, its popularity waning until the 1980s, when it was purchased by the Bilger’s Rock Association and lovingly transformed into a park.  

After our arrival and family picnic, our guide led us down a gravel path, descending from the top of the rocks into the city below. We passed by the Rock House; a facsimile of the shelter Roland Welker made in Alone season 7. Despite its small appearance, the Rock House was large inside… no wonder he became the 100 Day King!

When the rocks came into view, I was speechless. Bilger’s Rock has a presence– something that words and pictures can’t capture. The 25-foot-tall walls towered over our heads, dark and glossy with a recent rain. Mosses and ferns draped over the rocks and trees sprouted in nooks too small for children. Our guide presented us with different opportunities to traverse the rocks, either ducking down to crawl under passes, or climbing up and over to the next spot.

Time didn’t feel real while we were exploring Bilger’s Rock. The hour and a half we had with our guide zipped by. During that time, we explored the Devil’s Dining Room as a large group and broke off into smaller pairs to slip into the Devil’s Kitchen or Ice Cave. Eventually, we emerged at the “entrance” to Bilger’s Rock, the site of a large carving.

The rock art, “The World is Looking to Us” was completed by John W. Larson in 1921. Thought to be inspired by the U.S.’s role in World War I, it is now over 100 years old and showing signs of age. We took our time to look at the carving, and I thought about how even now, the world is looking to us… people that love the Earth and care for each other. In the moment, I felt very fortunate to be surrounded by a group of people that felt equally as curious and delighted by nature as me. For the remaining walk back to the top of the rocks, I dwelled on how I could help others feel the same.

Meeting the rest of the group at the top of the rock city, we carefully walked around the cracks and joints, exploring its mossy roof. I now thought about the ancient seas that deposited the original sediments. At the time, a jungle of spectacular plants dominated the land above, and new, bony fish swam in the seas below. Pennsylvania was covered by shallow seas which rose and receded to create Bilger’s Rock… and the plethora of coal beds which were mined as Jacob Bilger bought the property in the 19th century.

Once our guided tour was over, our group gathered for the weekly Sock Sunday giveaway- which my sister won! With her prize in hand, and my gear safely stowed, we loaded back up in the Jeep for the long ride home. While we were a little muddy from clambering on the rocks, we were energized by our time in the cool microclimate down inside. All the way home we talked about the different little things we noticed… and made plans for returning with our full family sometime in the future.

Mushrooming at S.B. Elliott State Park

On the last Saturday in July, my family and I attended a Central Pennsylvania Mushroom Club meeting at S.B. Elliott State Park. Throughout the Spring, Summer, and Fall months, CPMC meets at various locations throughout Central Pennsylvania to hunt, talk, and teach about mushrooms. This meeting was my first time visiting S.B. Elliott State Park and hunting for mushrooms in July!

In the same year the Civilian Conservation Corps established Camp S-116-PA, 1933, the Department of Forests and Waters created S.B. Elliott State Park. A memorial plaque to Simon B. Elliott, a dedicated conservationist, was erected to commemorate the park. This heartfelt memorial is now shrouded by trees, which, I imagine, Simon B. Elliott would have liked. The CCC Lodge, outbuildings, and pavilions remain, which looked magnificently historical and mysterious.

Crown-Tipped Coral Fungus

Promptly at 1:00pm, our meeting divided into three groups. One group headed in the direction of the bog, which may be either the “Wallace Sphagnum Bog” or “Crystal Springs Bog.” I didn’t have the time on this trip, so I noted it for future exploration. Another followed Crystal Springs Road to walk up the snowmobile trails. The last group, which we followed, headed towards the wooded area between our pavilion and the old Dague Nursery. This area was composed of second-growth woodland, with lots of oak, beech, and evergreen trees. I also spotted plenty of Christmas Fern and New York Fern. Some trees had naturally fallen, but a small handful had been cut down and left to rot.

Just as we set out on our hunt, a light rain passed through our area. For a brief time, the rain cooled us off, but the humidity quickly ramped up again, and the bugs emerged. For a while, we found slugs and snails before seeing any mushrooms! I identified Western Dusky Slugs, but the snails escaped me. I was so focused on mushrooms that I forgot to take pictures of them.

Ghost Pipes
Ghost Pipes

After the slugs and ferns, we spotted Monotropa uniflora, Ghost Pipes. These perennial wildflowers are found all throughout Pennsylvania. The plants are a mycoheterotroph, a parasitic flower hosted by fungi in the Russulaceae family. Ghost Pipes are known to be the favorite flower of Emily Dickinson. I hadn’t seen any in person for many years. I couldn’t take a single step without nearly crushing a bunch of Ghost Pipes!

As the humidity settled over us, we finally started spotting mushrooms. We were on the hunt for a Russula aeruginea, the Green Russula, which my sister spotted and took to our walk leader. I found some Crown-Tipped Coral Fungus sprouting in a large clump on a rotting log. I reached the point where I felt like every glance was full of mushrooms. We counted more than ten species from our small group alone. Favorites of mine were Oak Mazegill, Crowded Parchment, and Berkeley’s Polypore.

Jack-o’lantern Mushroom

Towards the end of our walk, our group stumbled upon a large growth of Omphalotus olearius, the jack-o’lantern mushroom. These poisonous mushrooms fruit at a similar time to Chantarelles, and look eerily alike. Jack-o’lantern mushrooms possess true gills, a feature Chantarelles lack. Plus, jack-o’lantern mushrooms are vivid orange, and are the same color throughout. While I know scientifically these mushrooms are poisonous enough to cause harm to human beings, I can’t imagine ever being tempted to eat them. There is a certain something in their appearance and smell that sets off my primitive instinct to leave them alone.

After we finished our walk, all the groups gathered at a pavilion to begin identifying all the mushrooms found. Quickly the plates of identified specimens filled two picnic tables, and the heady scent of fresh fungi filled the air. Club leaders walked us through the species and families one by one. One of the best parts of the club is that there is a mix of ages and experience, creating a wealth of knowledge. I love to simply listen to them discuss different specimens or trade stories.

All too soon, my family and I packed up our foraging baskets and backpacks. Tired and sweaty, we loaded in my Jeep and headed east on I-80. Mushrooms were on the mind as we discussed our plans for mushrooming in August. Soon a copy of Field Guide to Wild Mushrooms of Pennsylvania and the Mid-Atlantic will be on my doorstep, ready for more mushrooming adventures.

If you are interested in joining a local mushroom club, please check out NAMA, the North American Mycological Association. A database of mushroom clubs throughout the United States is on their website at https://namyco.org/clubs/. The schedule of events for the Central Pennsylvania Mushroom Club is on their website at https://centralpamushroom.club/events/.

Penn State’s Living Filter

I participated in this event as part of my commitment to Centred Outdoor’s Outdoor Leadership Cohort. I recommend participating in their events throughout the Summer and Fall seasons. You can check out their schedule on their website. Please consider supporting Centred Outdoors and Clearwater Conservancy today.

Last Sunday, I packed a bag and dashed out the door to reach Penn State’s Living Filter in time for the 1:00pm guided tour. I wasn’t sure what to expect… I had gathered from promotional materials that the Living Filter was an experiment, yet also an established wastewater management practice. From the guided walk, I learned the Living Filter was much more than what met my eye.

Dr. Preisendanz from the Department of Agricultural and Biological Engineering met us at the sign-in station to share the history of the Living Filter. For almost four decades, Penn State has used their wastewater effluent as forest and crop irrigation. The hope is that after nourishing the plants and crops, the water will recharge groundwater aquifers. Wastewater is sprayed over the foliage using aboveground pipe systems. This wastewater is some of the cleanest wastewater around- Penn State recently upgraded their wastewater treatment facility to better treat the wastewater from University Park campus and part of State College.

Penn State staff, faculty, and researchers play an active role in maintaining the Living Filter. To ensure proper safety and security of the pipes, staff manually turn on and off the sprayer systems and handle the collection of samples for researchers. Working together, they have managed to eliminate the direct discharge of wastewater into streams and assist in maintaining the base flow of Spring Creek. Plus, this system supports different crops which are used to nourish research animals, eliminating the need to purchase and transport commercial feed.

During our walk, we soaked in the lush foliage around the service roads. Thick bushes of jewelweed lined our walking path. Grain crops emanated a warm and comforting glow over the hills. Climbing up over the grain fields, we passed into fields of tall, strong corn. While the hedgerows were not perfect, they were tidy. However, not all plants love the nutrient-rich water. Some trees, most of species that prefer dryer territory, were fading or even already dead. Penn State technical service staff maintain the safety of the Living Filter by removing any dead trees before, or immediately after a tree goes down.

While the Living Filter is an inspiring facility, what caught me by surprise was the investment of the community members attending the outing. Our small crowd was certainly a mix of ages, experiences, and knowledge. We stopped multiple times during the walk to ask Dr. Preisendanz questions, which she met with enthusiasm. I felt comfortable in this group of (mostly) strangers, and happy to listen to the discussion surrounding wastewater management and sustainable agriculture. I learned that the morning group was larger and had even more questions than us. The 11:00 am group took over an hour, while ours was just under!

On my way home from the outing, I drove past the site of the old Radio Astronomy Building. Now a decommissioned special services building, the area of what used to study celestial objects using radio waves now is the home of the Living Filter’s second half. I didn’t stop to check it out as I was unsure of the permissions one would need to see it for themselves. The initial portion of the Living Filter, on State Game Lands 176, is publicly available. However, be warned that the sprayers are turned on for all other days- even in the middle of winter.

I enjoyed my visit to Penn State’s Living Filter. The “lesson” was fun, the walk was easy, and the attendees were interesting. While this place is checked off my To-Visit List for the Summer, it’s on my To-Visit List for the Winter. Dr. Preisendanz shared the area is a winter wonderland starting in December and worth the trip. For now, when I wash my dishes in the breakroom sink, I know the water will exit the system at the Living Filter!

Nature Journaling Sit-Spots

My break lasted longer than planned. As our wedding approached, time sped up, punctuated by frequent thunderstorms. The periodical cicadas came and went in their screaming glory. Pennsylvania has slipped into the dog days of summer, and Sirius rises high over us in the nighttime sky. The lake calls me, and I resist the urge to swim all day, every day.

When I first moved here in the summer of 2020, I worked from home each day. During my lunch breaks I would dash to the dock and slip into the water. I could take a dip at the boat launch and crawl out on the bank at the other side, undisturbed. I’ll never know if the park rangers let me have fun or chose to ignore my small-town antics.

While visiting earlier this week, the launch was quiet enough for me to sit at the end of the dock to nature journal. The sparkling summer lake was a fun challenge to capture in a pencil drawing. Beneath my feet, bluegill hovered around the dock pilings, their fins glinting gold. One snuck up to my foot to check me out, sucking in water through its nostrils to detect my scent. I drew the scene in my journal, delighted as the fish gathered near me.

Other delights found themselves in my journal. Several bass were jumping out of the water- from predation or delight, I won’t ever know. I captured the blue-fronted dancer that rested on my knee, and a green dragonfly that swept around my face. Tufts of algae floated by me, caught in the wake of a speedboat and my nature journal. After filling the page with pencil drawings, I packed my journal away to lay on the dock and watch the clouds.

Having a sit-spot, a place to sit and journal at many times over a period, is a common practice. Sit-spot recommendations include spaces that are at home, or if not, very close to home. My first sit-spot was on my porch, a safe and secluded spot where I could experiment with my journal in peace. Soon after, I started taking my journal on lunch break walks, and I developed a second sit-spot.

Bald Eagle Launch, where I was earlier this week, is my second and favorite sit-spot. I can sit anywhere on the property to journal… on the dock floating in water, under the pavilion, perched on the trail bench, or draped on the grassy hill. Every angle is beautiful, every corner of the area holds some fascinating bit of nature. Long before I kept a nature journal, I wrote in my diary here- and many, many pages of daily nature observations.

I’m not alone in having multiple sit-spots. One of my nature journal inspirations, Clare Walker Leslie, journals at several places. In her books, she shares pages from her spot at Mount Auburn Cemetery, her country home, and her city home. As she cycles through locations, the seasons pass and she captures snippets of time all over.

I know Bald Eagle Launch will remain as my most favorite sit-spot. Yet, I’m always on the hunt for a new spot- a place for me to visit every so often and witness nature throughout the seasons. The rest of this summer, I plan to attend Centred Outdoors events and journal my way through every outing. You can check out the schedule online and make a plan to join me!

Rain Meditations

Common Blue Violet

The dry season has given way to days of rain. Almost 2 weeks ago, 36,000 were without power due to a severe storm which swept across Pennsylvania. Last weekend, I went hiking at Bear Meadows Natural Area in the rain, arriving home soaked to the bone. Each day I empty my rain gauge, recording my observations for CoCoRaHS. My coworkers lament the continuous rain in our group chat.

Yet, the rain refreshes me. All my worries from this past winter are being washed away. From my yard, I can trace them. Water flowing to Lick Run, to Bald Eagle, to the Susquehanna, to the Chesapeake Bay, finally to the Atlantic. By the time my worries come back to me, they’re transformed into nourishing rain.

Like me, the plants needed a good, soaking rain to flourish. The sunny azalea has erupted into full color, loaded with magenta flowers. The shaded azalea has buds but is not yet blooming. My neighbor’s lilacs burst forth in frothy bunches of blossoms. The roses are budding, and I’m waiting for the David Austen Poet’s Wife to reveal its first pale bloom.

Lily of the Valley
Common Dandelion

Despite the rain, I’m still getting outside. Armed with my raincoat, umbrella, and knee-high boots, I look more like the Morton’s Salt Girl than woman. As the Finns say- no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothes. I’m on the hunt for a new coat, something lighter than the vintage PVC one I wear today. My initial eBay searches have been unsuccessful, but I know I’ll find one soon.

My lunch break walks have a different flavor in the rain. Unlike sunny days, the sidewalks are emptier and quieter, but I’m never alone. There are always others out, like me, dressed in gaudy jackets and umbrellas. Some are galloping along for their step counts, most are moseying along. We all enjoy the break from our desks to soak in the fresh, cleaned air.

 I know that soon the rain will give way to another long, hot, Pennsylvania summer. In our post-industrial, climate-changed world, cool summers are a thing of the past. I remember summers so cool I wasn’t allowed swimming, lest I caught a cold. Now, I sweat on the back porch and plan to jump in the lake the moment I’m through with work.

Azalea

Dwelling on climate change is difficult. On days like today, climate change feels like a distant enemy hovering on the horizon. The reality of our fluctuating jet stream and unpredictable conditions is harsh. While the climate in Pennsylvania is still moderate, it is only in comparison to other places. I worry about tornadoes, derecho, and wildfires- all have happened in the past month. The weather wreaks havoc among our native plants, ushering them into a new era of struggle.

While I write and gaze out the window into the inky darkness, adaptation is on my mind. There’s hundreds of articles and videos on what to do to stop climate change. Much of it is things to buy to stop buying things (ironic, right?) or where to spend your money to send a message… instead, I want to focus on things within my ability. I will continue to serve my community in public office, voters be willing. I buy less, and when I do buy, I search for secondhand first. I buy bulk groceries and cook from home, eating fresh veg from my grandfather’s garden. I reduce my driving, choosing not to drive at all on the days I work from home. I’ll wait to put in air conditioners until the last minute, and use LED lightbulbs. Turn off everything when I’m not using it, etc. etc.

Above all, I look for hope. I keep tabs on good climate news and review favorite reads. I note the blooming flowers and migrating birds in my phrenology notebook. I continue to track precipitation and report it daily. I will always walk in the rain. Above all, I will enjoy the outdoors and observe in my nature journal. I capture the world as it is today, and leave a record for those that come tomorrow. I hope, that then, they will know cool summers too.