Thoreau tells me, "I go to my solitary woodland walks as the homesick return to their homes." Yes, but soon my brisk walk slackens,. There is so much to see. Everything is alive and flush with the fever of spring. What s surprises me is the number of butterflies -- mourning cloaks, red admirals, skippers, checkerspots, and hordes of swallowtails.  The dark cinders of the old railbed must be absorbing the sun's rays and the butterflies seek that stored heat to warm their night chilled blood.                     I haven't yet left Knox County when a yellow-breasted chat sings his harsh musical song. I soon find this largest member of the warbler clan in a clump of multiflora roses. He has a bright yellow throat and breast. This is a treat because I seldom get to see the chat in the northeastern part of the county.                     I cross US 62, find the trail (this part of the trail is still closed but I had special permission from Joan Simcak the Holmes County Rails to trails administrator to walk this section) and ll dogs barked their annoyance at me from a nearby home. To them, I'm tresspassing on thier turf. I cross Township Road 10. I climb down to the roadbed to inspect and admire the hand-hewn sandstone "tunnel". A true work of art whose artisans are long gone. This is the tunnel we passed through when our school took a field trip to Mohican State Forest back in the 1950's. C. F. Zuercher was our teacher and guide and Dick Stutzman the bus driver. This is the only school bus ride we had in those eight years of country school. Back then it never occurred to me that the train, which rumbled over top of this "tunnel", was the same one whose whistle we heard as it traveled through Fredricksburg and followed Salt Creek to Holmesville.                      The day is heating up and I take off my old coat and stuff it in the backpack. I eat a sandwich and read in  Walden. " Beware of all enterprises that require new clothes." I now leave behind the sounds and signs of civilization save for the old Cleveland, Akron, and Columbus Railroad (later Pennsylvania Railroad and the Penn Central) bed and where  its path was cut or blasted through the solid sandstone. To me this is the gateway to  miles of breathtaking beauty. The north face of the sheer walls is weathered off; rounded and smoothed. The south face has the carvings of earlier visitors -- P. GRAY, NOV  44. [continue...]