Last March, I was hiking a section of the Long Path, in thenortheast part of Partridge Run. I was coming up to the end of atrail, on which the Long Path, turned right, onto a dirt roadcalled 'Truck Trail.' 'Truck Trail' was a simple, obvious road totake; it was well marked and wide. But, then I saw it. It was atrail that went straight; it was not blue-green, like the Long Pathmarkers; but a dull, faded gray marker. It was already 4 PM and Itold my parents I would be home by 5 PM. My curiosity wouldn't letme leave it behind. So I went and began to explore it. Since it wasso late, I really couldn't spend that much time checking it out.However, it was very intriguing.

At first the trail went by a small open area, with a fireplace,that looked like it was made by some kids or something, who hadbeen camping. It was kind of strange to see a clearing in the woodslike that; I can only guess that ENCON cleared it out forpartridges to use. The trail continued on. Past that area, thetrail made a switch back, and descended down a short grade. I thinkwe all have had experiences like that; every path has a switchbackor two, no matter the route. By now, I was intrigued by this path.I had never been in this area of Partridge Run before; it wastotally new ground for me. But my watch told me, I couldn'tcontinue. It was already 4:30 PM. The trail markers, were faded andhard to read. Hiking back would take me almost a half hour, andthen there would be a half hour drive back to my house.

I got home at around 5:30 PM, which was not much of a surpriseto me. It wasn't a surprise to my parents, I had left them a noteon the table telling them I was going hiking, and they know howsometimes a hike can take longer then you originally planned. I didmention in passing the 'gray trail'. After that, I checked the'official' Partridge Run map to see if I could find out where the'gray trail' went. To my surprise, it was not on the map. I guesssometimes people make their own trails.

I never really forgot about that trail all week. It was quiteintriguing. So on a Friday afternoon, I left work at 3 PM, andheaded back up to Partridge Run to check it out again. Being stillMarch, there was some snow and ice left on the hilltops on 'TruckTrail'. I didn't want to walk very far get there, as it was already4 PM (sigh, again), although I knew my parents were going out forthe evening, so I would have until dusk at 6 PM to find it. I endedup parking my car, at the far end of 'Truck Trail'. I started tohike to there, over several hilltops, covered with ice. It was aslippery trip back up there, but extremely interesting, as I hadnever hiked this part of 'Truck Trail'. Yet, I did know the route,as I had a map, and had driven over it the summer before. Afterabout a half hour of hiking, I got back to the intersection of theblue-green trail and gray trail, that intrigued me so much.

The first part was about the same, as the previous time I wentthere. This time I followed the trail (the best I could), past theswitchback and down the hill. It was a rarely followed trail, withpoor markers, but it was a nice woods. I proceeded farther, andsoon I find myself coming upon a structure that resembled ahalf-built cabin, with a black plastic tractor seat in it. I guessit was for deer hunting. The markers suddenly disappeared and thetrail split. In both directions now, it was a rutted four-wheelertrail. I hiked a little ways down the trail, as it started to thecliff. Yet, it was already 5:45 PM, and rapidly getting dark. Youprobably know how the game goes by now. I had to head back. Idecided to take the four-wheeler trail, up the hill as I figured itwould be a shorter way back. It was. When I got back to 'TruckTrail', just off the four-wheeler trail, there was a shot up, olddining hall chair, with a rotting cardboard box next to it, and asign above it, noting that this was a public hunting area. Thetrail didn't lead to anywhere impressive. Yet it was not a waste oftime. If I had never taken the gray trail, I probably would havenever known where it led, nor would I have been able to look backand know what it was like to be there.

Today, I look back at that hike, and still wish I could followthe trail farther down the hill. It is a nice spring day, in the70s, and the tulips are in bloom around the house. Still I wish Icould follow that trail to find where it ends. Maybe tomorrow.