Rob's Blog

One of the sights that I looked to see was the Indian God Rock, about 8 miles south of Franklin. My first two long rides took be south only about 5 miles to the Belmar Bridge and then either east or west. So, I fell short of seeing the Indian God Rock. This time would be different.

I took a day off work to relax and enjoy myself. I was working pretty much the entire weekend before, 19 hours on Saturday and another countless on conference calls on Sunday, and did not have time for a ride. Thursday would be the day.

I started off traveling the usual southern route down the Allegheny River Trail from Franklin down to the Belmar Bridge. For the first time on my journeys, I was traveling under the bridge instead of over the bridge. I stopped to take a photo of the bridge, as seen from the south, then kept going down the straight, tree lined path.

I stopped several time to take pictures of the scenic views of the river, trees and clouds as well as the beautiful leaf-lines path. It was fall, even though only late September, and the trees were suddenly changing their appearance. The leaves were turning the red, yellow, orange, brown colors of autumn and falling from the trees with the smallest gust of wind. I must certainly continue to ride the trails and witness this natural event every week.

I soon made my way to the Indian God Rock. I was a little worried at first. I had read “on the internet,” that you could actually go down to the river and see the rock up close. But, when I arrived, I only saw the observation deck and the Historic places placard. I could barely even see the rock, as it was nestled behind some trees. I took a picture of the rock, thinking that may be all that I get out of it. I walked over and read the placard and walked back to the observation deck. I saw no way down.

Of course, I was not looking for the right way down. I was assuming that there would be a wooden staircase or at the least, a set of steps carved out of the hillside. What I found was a dangerously steep path that lead to the river. This path may not have been as dangerous as I remember it, but I will stick to my memory. There were no steps. There were, however, flat rocks that became very slippery when wet. Fortunately for me, it had rained earlier that morning. I was also concerned about the plant life reaching out onto the path. Was it poison ivy or poison oak? I was only good a identifying one green leafy substance that grew in nature, and that was not it.

I did safely make it to the bottom after running most of the way down the hill. Not that I wanted to run, I just could not stop. Once down to the river, I was able to get some close up shots of the rock, as well as the river, trees and clouds. I carefully climbed over and around the rock to get various photos of the rock and river. I noticed that, while there were many old carvings, there were just as many recent carvings.

For those of you interested…The rock is of archaeological importance as it bears some of the few authentic petroglyphs – rock carvings made by Indians, possibly dating back as far as 1200 A.D. The rock served as a landmark to early steamboat travelers. As the boats went by this rock, the ship’s officers always called out "Indian God Rock" and the passengers would hurry to the rail to see the curiosity. The rock is 22 feet in height and composed of a hard sandstone with sloping sides.

After that tourist moment, I continued south on the trail to Brandon. I cannot find any facts on the world wide web about Brandon, but the one fact that I know is that I like it. It is civilization in the middle of the bike trail. This is great! I was used to riding through the middle of nowhere into downtown nowhere, via the nowhere express. As I reached the trail head, I was greeted by a beaten up trail head marked, though not as ugly as the Rockland marker. But after that, it was houses and people and boats and grills and fun.

I soon realized that these were probably not houses for permanent residence. They were really just fancy camps, like the ones that everyone I know has around Franklin. I saw that because most people know where Franklin is because they have a camp somewhere near here. There camps were nice. I am not sure if they have indoor plumbing or water worth drinking, but neither does Mexico and people still go there.

I travelled a bit further into the heart of Brandon before turning around and heading for home. On the way back, I stopped to take more photos and to see Fisherman’s Cove from the other side of the river. As I traveled north on the east side of the river, I recalled my trip on the Sandy Creek Trail located on the west side of the river. Two trails, that seemed so far apart, were just on the opposite side of the river from one another. I took a picture of the bridge that spans Big Sandy Creek and thought that I probably have a picture of where I was standing, taken from that bridge.

The ride home was a good one. I stopped for a snack break in a little picnic area just off the trail. It was a relaxing break, listening to the water go by and only hearing the water. There were no distractions of like other than my yearning to get back home and relax before going to pick up Koben from school. It was a fun trip and I am looking forward to heading back this direction real soon.