My Aunt Emme and our two good friends—one human, one canine– and I felt a strong need to get away from so-called civilization the other day. So, we went a ramblin’ in Sullivan County, which, if you don’t know, is in the Endless Mountains of northeastern Pennsylvania. The residents there have a saying that they live in the Gem of the Endless Mountains.  They got that right.

Anyway, we were looking for some answers to a Quest. Some historically-minded citizens from Sullivan County have developed a History Quest, and you have to travel the highways and bi-ways (mostly bi-ways) of Sullivan County to find the answers to such questions as: “Find the cemetery in Bellasylva. There is a tombstone with two dogs on it. What are the dogs’ names?” So, in search of answers, we toured some cemeteries in Dushore and then made our way to Lopez and the ghost town of Ricketts and on to Jameson City, which would probably not fit anyone’s definition of a city, more like a sliver of a village, but in the old days, it was another story. Anyway, we took a break from our quest and hiked for a couple miles at Rickett’s Glen State Park and then ate lunch at a restaurant, which had this sign out front: Welcome to Rickett’s Glen Hotel, conveniently located in the middle of nowhere.

Eventually, in search of the almost mythical cemetery at Bellasylva, we made our way up to the wilds of Dutch Mountain, where the bear and the rattlesnakes roam. And that’s where we saw the really interesting sights. Trees and trees and more beautiful trees! (But unfortunately, no bears and no living snakes, but possibly a dead baby rattler?)

At one point we had a stare-down with this buck, and I am hoping that he makes it through the next few weeks.

Then we came to a house with a totem pole, of sorts, out front. The totem pole was made of many, many shoes tied together, and I’d really like to know the back-story, but it didn’t appear that anyone was home.

We came to a house with a sign out front that suggested that if we trespassed, we would be shot. We skedaddled out of there.

After a few wrong turns, we found the cemetery at Bellasylva. We found the tombstone with the dogs’ pictures. They were German Shepherds, and their names were (don’t look if you are doing the quest) Ouigie Goldie and Duke Prince.  They must have been buried with their humans because there were two humans’ names on the tombstone, as well. I forget the humans’ names, but I liked it that they thought so much of their dogs that they were all buried together.

Then we came to this door.

It was fascinating, all by itself, this beautiful red door with only the forest behind it. We stared at it for a few moments, and I snapped a pic and sent it to my Snapchat buddies. I labeled it “the door to nowhere” because that is what I had heard it was called.

My brother-in-law soon responded to the picture, “Maybe, it’s the door to somewhere.”

Of course, I thought, it is the door to somewhere. That felt like a revelation to me. It was the door to somewhere beautiful, the forest, which is probably my favorite place to be. On that day, that was my reality. I was in a beautiful place making discoveries with some wonderful people and a special dog.

I think I needed that reality check on this wicked-hard week. I’ve been living too much in my own head this week. The “what ifs?” are dragging me down. Thoughts of the future are scaring me right now.

 But then there is also this door in the woods—the door to somewhere. And somehow, that gives me hope.

Peace to all.