Is This An Eagle? (Adventures on the Clarion River)
Jonathan and I saw this bird flying around the morning after our nephew Peanut was born in early November.
The Clarion River drew a line between us and this bird. We were in Elk County, Pennsylvania and the bird was in Jefferson County. Jonathan was driving. The bird landed high in a tree on its side of the river. At the time, I thought that we saw an owl. Now, looking this – the only photo that we could get – we think that this is a young eagle. Do you know?
The day after nephew Peanut was born, Jonathan and I also saw the following – all along the Clarion River – and most near our cabin at Clear Creek State Park:
2 more eagles (we could tell that these ones were eagles)
many geese
1 woodpecker
5 turkeys in Clear Creek’s camping area (see this photo in my prior blog post)
1 skunk outside our cabin
The night before – the night that Peanut was born – we saw:
1 ten-point buck in the Clear Creek camping area
Dozens more deer, both bucks and does
1 large raccoon outside our cabin
Peanut’s mama is my sister K. It’s fitting that I saw all of these animals the night that K’s first child was born. K. was always my partner in crime for adventures with Mother Nature. My dad – Peanut’s grandpap – taught us to measure places, travels, and moments in time by the wildlife seen. So this is how I choose to remember that I was in a GOOD place on that good night.
Jonathan and I spent time at both Clear Creek State Park and at Cook Forest State Park that weekend. We took the “scenic route” between the two parks. This consisted of us traveling across the Clarion River into Elk County and taking state routes that followed the Clarion for much of the trip.
This region has its own tourist bureau. You can plan your trip here using many online resources. I’m not mimicking any of them. This post is just a string of anecdotes and photos.
Years ago I came here – the section of the Clarion that runs past Clear Creek State Park – with K. and our Gaffron family. We rented inner tubes and floated down the river. It was August. Empty canoes from a boat rental dotted the shallow water’s banks. A woman pulled her canoe – marked with the name of the same rental company as the others – up on a pile of rocks. She said – sort of to us, “I’m done! I’m going back to my cabin!” Then she climbed out of the creek bed and left. Just like those who bottomed out before her.
And – my family counted up the security deposits forfeited by that day’s frustrated paddlers.
Someday I will say to my nephew Peanut, “I remember the night that you were born. Your Uncle Jonathan and I were packing our car in the dark for a mini-vacation. I got a message that you were on the way. Uncle Jonathan drove to the cabin that we rented that night and I kept cheking my phone to see whether you had arrived. Then we drove into a valley and that was it – the cell phone signal was gone.
“I looked up to see a deer running across the road. Uncle Jonathan saw it in time to brake the car. I put my phone away so that I could work “deer watch” for Uncle Jonathan. By the time that we got to our cabin, we had seen dozens of deer along the road. (Most of them were still alive!) We even had a deer cross in front of us next to a yellow caution sign for a deer crossing. I soon mistook leafless trees in the headlights for antlers. I yelled “Deer!” several times when there were none.
“We found our cabin and settled in. I left the cabin by myself, flashlight in hand, to brush my teeth. (Our cabin had no sink.) I saw a huge raccoon in the woods next to the cabin. I swear, that thing was bigger than your pap’s hunting dogs.
This was the night that you were born, Peanut. However, we had no cell phone service at the cabin, so I didn’t know this for sure. The next morning we drove several miles to a parking lot on top of a hill, I checked my “smart phone” messages and I learned about you.”
On that next morning, Jonathan asked the friendly and helpful staff at the park office where we could check our cell phones. They told him about four park locations where visitors sometimes – sometimes – get service. We tried all four of these spots, and none of them worked for us.
Then we drove from Clear Creek to the Cook Forest Fire Tower / Seneca Point Overlook. As I said, we took the “scenic route.” We did this specifically so that we could see wildlife. (And we did see the bird in the top photo of this blog post.) We crossed the Clarion into Elk County and took state routes with four digit numbers. We skipped the main highway, with all of its fancy signs telling us how to get where we wanted to go. And – we had no cell phone service, no GPS available for most of our trip. We dug our paper atlas & gazetteer (that’s a book of maps, you guys) out of the back of our car and used it.
We didn’t get our cell phone service back until we were almost at the top of the mountain at Cook Forest. I checked in with my family from the parking lot next to the fire tower.
The Seneca Point Overlook is a short walk from the fire tower. When we were at the overlook, we met a jogger whose family owns one of the cabins at Cook Forest – and the family is originally from Tarentum! Here is the photo that Jon tweeted from the overlook:
To wrap this all up: I spent a lot of time thinking about the things that we take for granted when it comes to Mother Nature.
I use my “smart phone” way too often in my normal life. I’m trying to cut back, but it’s difficult. I didn’t grow up this way. My parents didn’t have cell phones when I was growing up. We took a lot of camping trips, and every few days we checked in with our relatives from a pay phone at a grocery store. Now I feel shame whenever I sit down in the middle of a forest and check my phone messages.
I usually welcome trips where geography cuts off my screen time.
However – this – the sudden, unexpected loss of our cell phone connections – is dangerous. Especially if we take for granted our cell phone connections, our instant access to the world. We couldn’t get the constant weather updates that we get back home. (And we slept for several nights in a primitive cabin in the woods by the side of a shallow river.) If somebody had gotten hurt out in these woods, we would have had to hike or drive for help.
Do most people fully realize this?
My husband and my father-in-law both enjoy the hobby of amateur (ham) radio. Every few months, I study for the ham radio licensing test for a few hours, and then put the book away. After this trip, and my reflections on the almost complete lack of cell phone service, I think that I should put more effort towards getting my own ham radio license. I should also buy a weather radio.
I still don’t know what to make of the day, years ago, when my family watched all of those rental canoes got ditched along the side of the Clarion River. Maybe people are better about googling “water level” before they plunk down money for boat rentals now. I’ll have to come back in the summer and find out.
Maybe I’ll see more eagles.
