Fox Dam

Rarely has a day in the forest been so strange. It had a surreal, vision-like quality. Not only did I wander aimlessly through unknown territory, but this was the first day the woods had a genuine feel of summer.

A friend called and invited me to go along with him while he cleared and reblazed a section of the North Country Trail that he maintains. He said he was going to start at Fox Dam, an old town site in the forest that I've been hoping to visit. I've never been to Fox Dam because old timers will tell you that, yes, it does exist, and you really ought to go there. But nobody can tell you how to get there. Like so many places deep in the forest, you just have to know the way already, or else follow someone who does know, because the roads out to the place are a labyrinth, a complete rabbit's warren.

A brief history of Fox Dam: Some say that the town of Ludlow originated here, and many of the buildings in Ludlow were moved up to Route 6 from this far-flung site. There was a dam here to control the water levels on Tionesta Creek. Of course, Ludlow was a tanning town and a hellacious place until the wealthy Olmsted Family built their fine estate there.

Fox Dam is a good place to fish, camp, and swim. And that's what folks were doing when we got there today. This spot is one of those annual Brigadoons of the ANF: it's an empty space in the forest that becomes a town again on Memorial Day weekend, a tent city this time around. Come Tuesday, it will disappear and anyone who chances across the place will see little more than a grassy clearing in the woods and a footbridge over the East Branch of Tionesta Creek.

And so, I followed my friend out to Fox Dam, saw dozens of people camped out there with children and dogs. We went our separate ways; him to the North Country Trail and me up along a gated forest road that led far out into remote and wild country along the creek. I thought my trail was a loop that would bring me back to the crowded little town site. I was wrong---which was pretty surreal in itself---and I wandered far off into the woods.

Even with a map and compass, I couldn't be sure where I was. When you don't really know where you're going in the summer forest, the place becomes an incoherent vision of deep green and birdsong. The heat was stifling, too. In time, I chanced upon a bridge, which is rare, and the semi-permanent camp site pictured here.

And I settled down at the campsite and took a nap. That, too, was odd. I don't know if I slept half an hour? An hour? Upon waking, among late afternoon shadows, I decided to admit defeat and retrace the long route back to the town site and my car. On the return trek, I came face to face with the hiker's worst fear: a lone bear cub. Fortunately, the little fellow tore off into the greenery before I even had time to think about where its mother might be lurking. I was impressed by how fast that little guy could run.

I located the car and managed to find my way back to Route 6, but honestly, I couldn't tell you how to get back out to Fox Dam. It was all a blur.