Welcome to Rocksylvania

Blue skies, low-80s, barely a cloud in sight - we could not have asked for a better day.  With this beautiful forecast gracing our adventure, my boyfriend and I set out for Hawk Mountain Sanctuary.  Hawk Mountain, famous for its vast birding opportunities, is located along the Atlantic flyway in the Blue Mountains and features a stretch of the Appalachian Trail.  With beautiful scenic overlooks and a variety of trails to choose from, we were ready to hit the trails!

The trail name should have been our first clue.  "River of Rocks" was its name and rock hopping was its game.  After the gradual, wheelchair accessible climb to the South Overlook and the trail head, we were suddenly met with a steep, rocky descent to the valley below.  As the trail leveled out, the real fun began.  As we weaved through the lush, spring green forest, the trail transformed.  Small, jagged rocks became large, glacial boulders.  The ground beneath our feet became lost to the shadows of these ancient masses.  The trail markers slowly disappeared from the trees around us and appeared at our feet.  We began planning our moves by the shape and supposed sturdiness of the next rock.  We hopped our way down the trail until sunlight stopped us in our tracks.  The trail opened up along a barren field of boulders.  The sun was hot against our skin as we ventured out of the shadows.  

After a quick pit-stop to refuel and snap a selfie, we hiked back into the shade of the forest and continued on our way.  As we leapt along the trail, we kept hearing what sounded like a babbling brook, but with no stream in sight, we were puzzled.  We paused long enough to discover that this peculiar sound was coming from below our feet, beneath the boulders themselves.  We could hear water rushing below us without a care in the world.  Soon after some friends joined in the adventure.  Peeking out from under a leaf we met a small frog.  He was hopping along just as we were, but on a slightly smaller scale.  We also ran into a rather large snake...right in the middle of the trail.  Shawn might have stepped on him had I not pointed the reptile out.  

Soon the trail rounded the end of the river of rocks and mirrored the back side of the boulder fields.  With the heat of the day upon us and a chorus of bird song riding the breeze, we started the gradual climb back up the mountain.  The trail reverted back to its former self.  The large, glacial boulders that made up the valley behind us slowly shrank - the dirt began to show itself in longer stretches.  Then, abruptly, the path turned up.  Yes, up...like a 90° up.  Steep was kind of an understatement.  After the grueling climb to the top, we came to a crossroad.  We had three options. Right would lead us away from our destination, wrong.  We weren't sure where straight would lead us, wrong (although we would come to regret that decision).  So we went left.  

Welcome to the Escarpment Trail.  A battle between hiker and stone.  Boulders rose once again from the earth in large piles.  Rock hopping was a thing of the past - we were now rock scrambling.  We pushed forward on tired legs; up and down we went.  Every so often blue sky peeked through the leaves, opening to another overlook of the valley where we had just come from.  Several overlooks later, after a slight brush with an unfriendly sort of rock, we arrived back at the wide, well-worn ground of a more traveled path.  Sweaty, bleeding (on my part) and grinning, we headed back to the car hand in hand, enjoying the high of fresh air and adventure.  

We later learned that had we gone straight at the crossroad, we would have reached the main path just around the next bend.  But hey, what's life without a little adventure?