Sunday, September 7, 2008

Red Rock Memories by Elaine Nissley

Elaine and John Nissley sitting on the porch at Red Rock.

This is not a story about a big fancy lodge with all the amenities of home, nor is it a story about a self-made summer cottage. This is a story about a simple cabin in North Central Pennsylvania with a 50-year wealth of memories, and more in the making!

How it all began:

When I was just a toddler, back in the early 50’s, my father became a member of Red Rock Hunting Club. Over the past 50 plus years “Red Rock” has become a vacation haven for now the fourth generation.


There were 10 men in the original Hunting Club. For almost 50 years the club was made up of the same 10 men. As most hunting clubs did, they would all go to camp the first week of buck season. They hired a cook who made them a huge camp breakfast before dawn to fuel them up for a big day in the woods hunting for that trophy buck. They carried a bag lunch, packed by the cook and when they returned to camp at the end of the day, there was a wonderful huge, hot meal waiting for them! There was one rule: no women at camp during hunting season! The men wanted to be able to walk around in their long johns, or less, if they wanted to! Smaller groups of the club would go to camp for bear, turkey and doe season.

But during the spring, summer and early fall, when there was no hunting season, Red Rock became our vacation haven! We were a dairy farming family, and getting away from the farm for a break was no easy task. But Daddy and Mother made it a priority to take us to our favorite and only vacation spot several times a year.


Red Rock is remotely located in Tioga County, Elk Township, just on the West Side of the Grand Canyon of Pennsylvania. It sits at the foot of Red Rock Mountain; four miles back a single lane gravel road, which parallels Cedar Run, as it flows toward and into Pine Creek, at the village of Cedar Run. A mountain rises on each side of the narrow valley. Stargazing is spectacular at the cabin, as there is no light pollution. One must look straight up to see the stars, as there is no horizon because of the mountains.

I have fond memories from my childhood of the 4-hour drive to Red Rock. The close we got, the more excited we became! When we first started going to Red Rock, we traveled on a gravel road the whole way North from Jersey Shore, about an hour’s drive. If it wasn’t on a Sunday, Daddy would treat us all to ice cream cones at Jersey Shore Creamery where it cost a nickel a dip. My favorite flavor was teaberry. It was what I considered a “mountain” ice cream because we didn’t get that kind back home. As we drove the last five miles back toward the cabin, we would always sing all five verses of “ She’ll be comin’ round the mountain”, with lots of turns and several hair pin curves on that narrow mountain road.

As we came across the third bridge, we four siblings kept our eyes peeled to see which one of us would first spy the cabin sitting among the pines along the creek.

There, at Red Rock, many memories were made in the creek called “Cedar Run”, which runs in an arch just a stones throw behind our cabin. We fell asleep at night, and woke up in the morning to the sound of water rushing over the rounded rocks of many sizes in the creek bed. And during the day, we spent hours catching minnows, or damming up the creek and splashing and swimming in its cold mountain water. It is where we kept our watermelon cold until the time we were ready to eat it! The men drove their cars into a shallow spot and there washed off the red dust from the mountain roads. We skipped stones across the deeper waters, seeing which one of us could make the stone skip the most. And the mothers would sit on the porch and watch us play, warning us to stay out of the tall grasses where the Rattlesnakes could hide. When we weren’t playing in the creek, we would hike the mountain roads, catch toads and Red-F salamanders, or watch the birds. My first fishing experience was in the creek behind the cabin. My fishing rod was a long thins branch off a tree, to which a string was attached, with a worm dangling off the end of a safety pin at the end of the string. As we grew bigger and wanted deeper waters in which to swim, we walked down the road to the swimming hole. Our meals were always special times! Cabin favorites were bacon & eggs for breakfast and ham, beans and potatoes, all cooked in one large pot, for supper. Mother also bought those little individual cereal boxes to take to the mountains. That was quite a treat when I was a child! It tried our teachings not to be selfish, when it came time to decide who got which cereal box! But at the mountains, whatever mother made was delicious! Somehow the food tasted better there! In the evening we would go deer spotting, with one of the adults hanging out the window of a slow moving car, holding a powerful spot light, Yes, Rd Rock was truly a place of childhood memories. That was the 50’s and 60’s.

Then during the 70’s and 80’s as I sat on the porch with my mother and sisters, watching our children and my nieces & nephews enjoy all the same things in the creek as we had a generation earlier, I felt a ‘dejavue’ coming on. It was like my mind was playing tricks on me. What had happened? Hadn’t it just been me and my siblings down there in Cedar Run, splashing and building dams in the creek? What had happened to the past 20 years?

Now, during the past several years, I again needed a reality check. Now I am sitting on the porch with my daughter, watching my grandchildren who are spending hours in the creek!

But more often than sitting and watching them, she and I get down there in the water with them, joining in the fun! What a wealth of memories they are creating, just as the two generations before them! The same simple summer pleasures, just decades later, bringing the same joy and delight!

In the past few years, the original 10 members have been giving up their memberships, and my husband and I were blessed to be able to become official members. Prior to this, we always needed to go to Red Rock with my parents, as the by-laws state that a member must always be there. Red Rock has again become a haven for my husband and myself, as well as our children and grandchildren. The cabin is too small for all of our six children and their families to go at once, but is a perfect place to take just one family at a time with us. It is great for our relationships to spend such quality time relaxing together and building relationships one on one.

Red Rock isn’t fancy. Our “running water” is a hose attached to an old retired fire hydrant placed along the creek, about 20 feet off the porch, with the other end of the hose in a spring near the top of the mountain. We carry the water into the cabin in 3-gallon buckets.

When we “gotta go”, we make a visit out to “Aunt Sally”, the tried and true comfort station, who has been bringing relief to 4 generations of Red Rockers. Although she is quite old, she has had a face-lift several years’ back, at the request of the DCNR. Black-eyed Susans adorn her n the outside and a heater at seat level makes our winter visits tolerable.

The three outside walls of the cabin kitchen are lined with windows, which enables us to enjoy the beautiful Cedar Run Creek while we enjoy our meals, which still taste better there! In the living room we can build a fire in the fireplace to ward off the chill on an autumn evening. Only curtains provide visual privacy in one bedroom with three double beds. Those curtains are not very good sound barriers, so a snoring sleeper can be enjoyed by all! And old transistor radio sits on the fireplace mantel. If we get tired of the quiet, we can turn on the radio, wait 30 seconds until it warms up, and listen to one of two hazy stations, Christian or Country.

Until this summer, there was no telephone. (And there is no cell phone coverage.) Just last month one was installed. What a luxury! Or is it? When that phone rings, somehow the long-standing serene ambiance of the cabin is broken. But it is comforting addition, to know that in case of an emergency, help is only a phone call away. Back in 1984, when my parents had all their grandchildren at Red Rock, my nephew fell 40 plus feet off Red Rock Mountain into the creek behind the cabin. The 4 boy cousins, then early teens, had climbed up Red Rock Run, Which runs into Cedar Run just behind the cabin, and were swinging on saplings up there on the edge of the mountain, Jim, 13 at the time, looked to see if his brother was watching him swing, and missed the tree, plunging down the straight rocky mountainside, landing in the creek, It was over an hour before he got to the hospital in Wellsboro. There he was diagnosed with a fractured skull in four places. He was taken by ambulance to Williamsport Hospital where he spent a few days recovering. He had a quiet summer that year, as his activities were very limited, but he did fully recover. That was the last time my parents took the grandchildren without their parents! They didn’t want to take the responsibility for rambunctious boys after that.

My husband and I are no longer dairy farmers(we milked cows for 17 years) but we still run a thriving Bed and Breakfast business (our 23rd year). Getting away is a bit easier than it was when I was a child. The drive is now only 3 hours and 15 minutes, and it is paved road until the last four miles. It is a perfect place to retreat to when we have a day or two free of guests. When we want to make longer visits to Red Rock, all we need to do it plan in advance and cross those dates of our B&B reservation book.

We also love to take our children and grandchildren! The place is alive with activity! It is so much fun, but forget about relaxing! The porch sitting is regularly interrupted with childhood chatter; the drives are very enjoyable but not as leisurely. And when the grandchildren leave, we feel like we need a day to relax before coming home to the busy routine of life.

We still are making memories at Red Rock. The last four miles is still a single lane gravel road with the same turns and hairpin curves as 50 years ago. Our grandchildren are not singing, “She’ll be comin’ around the mountain when she come,” as they keep their eyes peeled for the cabin sitting among the pines along the creek called “Cedar Run,” which runs in an arch just a stones throw behind our cabin. We still fall asleep at night, and wake up in the morning to the sound of the water rushing over the rounded rocks of many sizes in the creek bed. We still spend hours damming up the creek and splashing and swimming in its cold mountain water with the grandchildren.

The men no longer drive their cars into the creek to wash off the red dust from the mountain roads. Mother Nature has hanged the creek bank over the year which makes that not possible. We still skip stones across the deeper waters, seeing which one can make the stone skip the most. We still warn the grandchildren to stay out of the tall grasses where the Rattlesnakes could hide. We still sit on the porch and watch the birds at the feeder. In the evening we go deer spotting, Instead of going after dark with a spot light, we go at duck, when we can see them grazing for their bedtime snack. Another favorite activity no, which we did not enjoy in former generations, is biking on the Pine Creek Rail Trail in the Grand Canyon of Pennsylvania. What fun for three generations to go biking together! It is one thing we really enjoy! And the scenery there along Pine Creek is pristine! Jersey Shore Creamery is no longer there, but we not get our ice cream treats at a quaint little store in the charming village of Cedar Run. Everyone of all ages loves a trip there! Now my favorite flavor is Panda paws! It is what I consider a “mountain” ice cream, because we don’t get that kind back home. And the nickel a dip ice cream has now inflated to $1.25 a dip! Yes, Red Rock is truly a place of memories! It is still a vacation haven, where my body is refreshed and my soul is renewed. To me, it truly is “God’s Country.”


Written by Elaine Nissley during the summer of 2004

If any of you have camp memories written up and/or old photos of the Leetonia are let me know. Mountain girl, Paula, logging out.

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