I actually cheated a little bit at the end of Blackhand Gorge — Part 1 when I showed you the bike path through Deep Cut (for, not as I originally wrote, the electric Interurban, but the Central Ohio Railroad, and then later the B. & O.). That wasn’t part of my barefoot hike.
When I took that picture I was on inline skates.
You see, what I’d done was stash a canoe about 4½ miles upriver from the gorge, at the nearest road access (Brownsville Road). This also happens to be the other end of the bike path that runs through the Nature Preserve. I stashed the canoe then drove to the downriver end of the bike path in Toboso, put on my skates, and then skated back upriver.
It makes quite an interesting two-way traversal of Blackhand Gorge.
It was also an interesting way to see the river (more-or-less) how the Native Americans would. As I mentioned last time, this was a pretty special area for them, and it would have seen magical for the river to appear to be heading for distant hills that looked impenetrable, only to suddenly dart through the gorge.
Here’s how that looks from Brownsville Road.
The Licking River is just behind that row of trees to the right. Off in the distance there’s nothing but highlands.
As you head downriver from there, it just looks pretty flat with a bit of river bank, but no real hint of the hills. This is where the glacial lake sat.
(By the way, that’s not garbage in the front of the canoe—my skates are in there in case I managed to overturn the canoe. Not likely—water lever was pretty low, as it usually is this time of year.)
Canoeing down the Licking here really gets you away from things. There’s a bit of traffic noise from Route 16 a bit to the north, but it is a bit of an oasis. It’s an oasis for wildlife, too. There were great blue herons, and kingfishers. I’m pretty sure I saw an osprey. And then there was this.
Here’s a closer view.
And one more shot.
My bird identification skills are weak. I’m guessing that’s either a goshawk or a peregrine falcon.
When I was in Costa Rica one of the “show birds” was a little green heron. Well, we have those here in Ohio, too.
Being barefooted really helped here. To take this picture I got out of my canoe . . . and sunk about a foot into sticky clay-like mud.
Continuing downstream the hills started building on either side as I approached the gorge.
You can also see the edge of the river becoming rocky.
Of course, I have to show that I was barefooted.
Though really, I’m on a boat. Even shoddies will do that sometimes.
Just a bit before Blackhand Rock the river passes under the railroad bridge. Last time I showed it from above; here it is from below.
That bridge runs across about half-way up the blackhand sandstone cliffs there. There’s a ledge at that height on either side.
Finally, I approached Blackhand Rock and the narrowest spot through the gorge. The stonework below was built for the towpath for the Ohio & Erie Canal. The surface above is the remains of what was blasted off to make way for the towpath. That is where the Black Hand used to be.
According to Mark Welsh, the natives called this “Council Rock”. There’s a path on the back side (just off the trail where the Interurban went) that can be used to get up there. Mark and I were up there not long before he died.
It was just a short paddle back to near the parking lot from there. I left the canoe at the river and was able to drive my car right down onto the river gravel and pop the canoe back on.
Too much white and no mustache for a peregrine. Goshawk possible. Traveling across the lava fields of southern Idaho, we saw a peregrine tercel and falcon (male and female) cruising about 15 feet above the median, about 5 mph slower than the car. One turned, looked us over, and resumed looking for something to flush. Unforgettable.
Thanks, Paul. Whenever I try to look up a bird in my bird book (or bird books), what I think I saw never looks like any of the choices!
I know the feeling. That is why I didn’t grab mine and try to do it too. All I could really do was eliminate the peregrine since seeing two 20 feet away in the air in the wild …
Perhaps an osprey?
Hello again, I guess, I should have read part II before asking my question! That cliff is way too far east to be part of the ‘Licking Lake’. I’m thinking it just must have been the edge of the Licking River at one time. You’re photos look very familiar. That kayak trip is one of my favorites. I usually stash a bike or just walk up the path though. For even a greater adventure. Put in at Evan’s Park in Newark and stash a bike at the Gorge. There’s a bike path along SR 16 that takes you back nicely. Closer to home I enjoy kayaking the Wakatomica River. You have to go in the Spring(because it gets shallow) but I’m sure to see Eagles, Wood ducks and turtles. You have to make sure to take a light kayak because it never fails that you have to pull it around or over a downed tree etc…If it hasn’t rained recently, you can see the bass in the water and I’ve even seen a turtle swimming! Happy Traveling, I’ve enjoyed your blog!
Jennifer
What Is the Native American Indian tribe and individual that named Black Hand Gorge? This I’m very eager to see included in and for public viewing.
The reason the gorge was named was to remind all who came and went, that no hand was to be raised against anyone for any reason, while travelling the region, thus invoking peace for all, man and nature.
I think if we get to see the intimate details of your long tootsies, 🫠🤗we could with as much freedom, give rich historical details for patrons 😇👩🍳
There is a story regarding the Black Hand. Start here: https://resources.ohiohistory.org/ohj/search/display.php?page=1&ipp=20&searchterm=powkongah&vol=13&pages=444-459 to find out more. Supposedly, the story was first told in 1808 to a settler, but they don’t say what tribe it was.
The story regards a Mingo (Senaca/Cayuga) and a Wyandotte (Huron). When white settlers arrived in Ohio, the northern part tended to have Mingo and Wyandotte, many parts in the east had Lenape, and Shawnee tended towards the southern part of the state. (Also, don’t forget the Miami around Cincinnati). But beyond that, I don’t know who named it (though it does seem pretty natural, right?).
However, we do know that the Lenape named the Licking River (and it’s not what you think). Check out this blog entry: https://ahcuah.wordpress.com/2011/08/16/how-the-licking-got-its-name/
I’ve since done more research that definitely nails it down: “Licking” means the sandy place (as in, Black Hand Sandstone). The early settlers heard the Lenape calling it “lekung”, heard “licking”, and given all the salt licks in the area, were sure that the Licking referred to the salt licks.
Hope this helps.