Yesterday, in Part 1 I wrote about using LiDAR to predetermine just where the earthworks atop Salisbury Hill would be.
In this entry I’ll write more about the beauty of the hike (or just wandering about), and a bit of how I updated my map of the park.
First, here’s Salisbury Hill itself, looking glorious dressed up in its fall colors.
It’s really only about 230 feet tall as it rises up above the valley. The smaller hill next to it is just a bit over 100 feet.
As before, I parked in the main lot and had to wade the South Fork of the Licking River.
Again, bare feet are just perfect for this; why even think twice about it? When I was there last time, just as I was leaving another hiker was arriving . . . who pulled some knee-high waders out of the brush where he had hidden them so that he could get across.
As I mentioned before much of the hill is shale (which is what you get when a very clay-like soil fossilizes). It is pretty weakly cemented, and the river cuts through it easily. The old road that starts the trail heads up that shale bluff.
Here’s a close-up shot of that bluff. You can see all the friable levels of chipping shale. However, if you look close, you can also see that there is some sandstone (the better-cemented, iron-rich reddish stone). As the layers were laid down, there was obvious some deposition of clays for a while, followed by some sand, then clays again.
When I hiked this before, I went up that old road trail above the bluff. However, if you look straight ahead to the left (2 pictures back), you can see that the road also appears to extend in the other direction.
Hey, what’s out there?
So that’s where I went.
You can see where I went on this topo map I made using the LiDAR after I got back.
Let me digress for a moment and talk about how I made my final update on my official topo map. Yesterday I wrote about how I could process the heck out of the LiDAR data to see the faint sign of the old earthworks. Well, some trails also showed up. These were the trails that were old roads and that had eaten into the soil over the years.
Today I started out following what is marked in orange. I’d followed the red last time, and I wanted to explore that other path that appeared to parallel the main trail. From the map it is obvious that the trail (rather narrow actually) descends about a hundred feet to that small peninsula (highlighted), then heads back up quickly to the main trail.
That little peninsula shows up very nicely on the LiDAR data even though it is nowhere to be found on the official topo maps from the USGS. I was to visit it again later.
There is another technique I use to update my maps, and that is to use overhead photographs like the ones on Google Maps. I’d done that before, but obviously one cannot see much through a forest.
But I forgot to also check Bing Maps. Their overhead photograph for the area was taken in the late fall, when all the leaves were off the trees. That meant that in many cases I could see the trails through the branches.
So, between the LiDAR data and the overhead photograph, these are all of the trails that I could confirm locations on.
(The cyan is the earthworks, not a trail.)
That makes map-making fairly easy. All I had to do was overlay those lines onto the official map. Here’s my final:
(By the way, when I say “official topo map”, I just mean the map with my trails drawn onto an official USGS topo map.)
One thing that I found rather encouraging is that the map I’d drawn, purely by eye, after my first visit was pretty close to spot on. This newer map just adjusted things by a little bit, and then added the newer trails I hadn’t hiked before.
Okay, back to the hike.
After the jaunt to the small peninsula I headed to the top of the hill. There was just something about the light striking in just the right direction . . .
Man, what a day.
I’ve also mentioned that chipped shale can be a bit difficult to walk on. However, the leaves are useful as well as decorative. They provide just a nice bit of padding underfoot and ameliorate the shale.
I already showed you the picture of the fallen tree on top of the hill.
Here’s what it looked like under the roots.
There’s just a thin layer of soil there; not much for the roots to dig into. All that shale doesn’t provide much of a purchase either. It’s no surprise that a strong wind chips the shale further and the whole thing comes down.
From there I headed northeast. Actually, I headed southeast through the saddle, where I found another trail that ended up heading to the small chasm beside the river. And then I decided, why not head into the chasm. (OK, the “chasm” is only about 50 feet deep. But that’s pretty good for around here.)
Here’s a shot from inside of it.
There was a lot of broken shale down there.
Bare feet are also just fine for walking on scree. I just had to make sure that I walked slowly enough and was sure of my footing.
And here is where the chasm comes to an end, emptying into the Licking. If you look carefully in the bright area, you can even see a parked car, sitting in the urbanized area on the other side of the river.
But the spot I was standing it seemed miles removed from that, with just fallen scree and fallen leaves and fallen limbs making up nature.
At this point I had to decide whether to try to climb back up out of the chasm (always fun to do using one’s toes to get a grip). But then it struck me that, hey, I was barefoot! I could just wade my way back up the river. Sure, most of it was edged by an 150 foot bluff, but I knew that the peninsula was along the way. I knew the peninsula would provide me access back to the top.
So off I went.
Again, this is what bare feet are for. Mainly I walked on the drier areas, slabs of shale. But when need be, stepping into the water just wasn’t much of a deal. The water wasn’t even cold (springtime water is much chillier than fall water, but even then, if it is water, it’s above freezing—think about it). With my soles I could even easily tell if I was stepping on something slippery or not, and adjust my step.
You won’t be surprised to hear that, walking along the river, I encountered river life (mainly small fish).
But there was also a fish-eater.
I was sure this guy was going to bolt as I continued to work my way upstream.
But that was just a minor adjustment, and he came back down quickly.
For some reason this guy seemed to think that the ideal hiding spot was under a very small bluff right next to where I was walking. So I got this shot.
And I got this shot.
Man, that was fun seeing him and letting him “entertain” me for a bit.
At the end of the day, it was time to cross the Licking yet again to head back to my car.
Hey, I was dressed for it.
(Again, for a lot of these pictures, clicking on them will take you to their full-size versions.)
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