Don Croner’s Wanders on the Great Allegheny Passage Bike Trail | Flora | Catnip

GAPers who are also cat people will be thrilled to know that Catnip (Nepeta cataria L.) grows in abundance along the GAP. A native of southern and eastern Europe, the Middle East, and Inner Asia, Catnip was probably introduced to the New World by early European settlers and is now found in nearly all of temperate North America. It prefers human-disturbed niches like old rail-bed shoulders and trailside verges—making the GAP an ideal habitat. It does not grow in forests along the GAP, preferring areas without a leaf canopy.

Catnip belongs to the mint family, Lamiaceae, which includes other GAP plants like Bee Balm, Wild Basil, and Purple Deadnettle. It was one of the many species described by the ubiquitous Swedish botanist Carl Linnaeus in his landmark 1753 work Species Plantarum, as indicated by the L. in the scientific name. The genus name Nepeta probably derives from Nepete, an ancient Etruscan city north of Rome, once the center of Etruscan civilization before Rome’s rise. The species name cataria is Latin for “pertaining to cats—a fitting enough name for a plant whose entire common identity is built around feline attraction.

So what is the deal with cats and Catnip? The main attraction is nepetalactone, a volatile chemical compound found in its leaves, stems, and seed pods. When a cat sniffs, licks, chews, or rubs against the plant, nepetalactone is released and binds to olfactory receptors in the cat’s nose, triggering a cascade of signals to the brain regions governing emotion and behavior. Exposure to nepetalactone raises beta-endorphin levels in cats, the same effect activated by opioid drugs in mammals. The cats are literally getting high on this stuff. The typical high lasts 10–15 minutes, after which cats enter a temporary recovery period of roughly thirty minutes to an hour, after which they can get high again. Up to 80% of cats are affected by Catnip; some have no reaction at all. Kittens typically show no reaction until they reach sexual maturity, around 3–6 months of age.]

The leaves and flowering tops of Catnip are edible for humans and have a long history as a beverage herb: Catnip tea was a common daily drink in Britain before Chinese tea became widely available. Fresh or dried leaves lend a lemony-mint flavor to sauces, soups, and cooked dishes, though the plant is generally considered too pungent and bitter to eat raw in quantity. Catnip has one of the longer continuous medicinal records among GAP-corridor plants. Roman writers recorded its use as a tea for headaches, colds, and digestive complaints, and legend holds that Roman soldiers chewed Catnip leaves before battle to steady their nerves and boost courage. Colonial settlers who conveyed Catnip to North America used it for coughs, fevers, infant colic, and sedation of frazzled nerves. Modern pharmacological research describes its antifungal, antioxidant, antibacterial, and anti-inflammatory properties.

Nepetalactone, the active ingredient in Catnip, is also an effective insect repellent. Cats will roll on live Catnip to transfer the compound to their fur, where it functions as a self-applied mosquito repellent. Some authorities claim that the essential oil of Catnip is as effective as the well-known repellent DEET on humans. For GAPers, this gives Catnip a practical field use: crushed fresh leaves rubbed on skin or clothing may offer a genuine, if short-lived, defense against trailside mosquitoes.

Few GAP corridor plants carry as rich a magical history as Catnip. Its earliest documented mystical associations trace to ancient Egypt, where cats were sacred and Catnip became linked to Bast, goddess of pleasure, fertility, home, and protection. Egyptians reportedly burned Catnip leaves in rituals to draw closer to the gods and used it in embalming practices, cementing its connection to the afterlife. Greek and Roman writers carried the association forward, treating Catnip as protective and love-drawing—thought to ward off danger and evil spirits, bring good fortune, and encourage fertility and affection. The richest chapter of magical use comes from the Middle Ages in Europe, when Catnip became deeply entangled with witchcraft folklore specifically because of its bond with cats, which were themselves widely believed to be witches’ familiars. Folklore held that witches used Catnip in potions and spells, that the herb could ward off evil spirits, and—more fancifully—that it could even help a witch fly (see Mullein below). Dried Catnip was also tucked under pillows to induce vivid dreams and sharpen psychic power, and it appeared in love potions meant to attract passion and affection.

At the very least GAPers who are also cat people may want to take a few leaves home as gifts for their felines.

Young catnip

Young catnip

Catnip in flower

Catnip flowers

Catnip flowers 

Donj Croner’s Wanders on the Great Allegheny Passage Bike Trail | Confluence | Witches

Pennsylvania “Legends & Lore” historical marker for Hexebarger, 1818 Humbert Road, Upper/Lower Turkeyfoot Township, dedicated October 2023 by the Meyersdale Public Library and the William G. Pomeroy Foundation.

The Allegheny Highlands carry a genuine, well-documented strand of witchcraft folklore — not imported ghost-story filler, but a local expression of the Pennsylvania Dutch Braucherei tradition that German-speaking settlers carried west from the Dutch Country into the Allegheny Front and the Allegheny Plateau. The clearest surviving example sits directly astride the GAP corridor: the “Hexebarger” or “Hexie” legend of Turkeyfoot Valley, a few miles from Confluence.

In a hollow between Kingwood and Ursina, in what is now Lower/Upper Turkeyfoot Township, a young couple named Sammy and Priscilla “Prissy” Rugg purchased a farm from Revolutionary War veteran Capt. Richard Rhodes around 1789. Prissy's father had given her a white horse as a wedding present, and by local account she would sometimes unhitch it from farm work, mount from a stump, and ride circles around the yard shouting, “I'll make the Welkin ring!” — “welkin” being an archaic word for the vault of the sky. Neighbors who heard this from a distance concluded she had supernatural power, and she acquired the name “Hex Berge,” witch of the hills.According to the Rockwood Area Historical and Genealogical Society's Down the Road of Our Past, Volume II, Rugg was said to cast hexes on people and livestock during her rides, and neighbors would “scurry off in fear” at the sight of her approaching on the white horse.

Prissy Rugg died in 1837, but the legend outlived her. An October 26, 1950 article in Meyersdale's The Republic, “Stories Reveal Hauntings Down in Turkeyfoot Region,” recorded that residents still reported hearing a ghostly rider on Humbert Road, described a second alleged witch from the same hollow said to be capable of flight, and recounted a headless-ghost story tied to an unmarked grave near the road. Long-time residents interviewed in 2024 — including Rebekah Clevenger and the family of descendant Sarah Wetzel — still warn newcomers away from the Williams-Firestone Cemetery and a supposedly abandoned house on Hexie Road, where visitors claim that cutting the engine and lowering the windows lets you hear the witches cackling after dark.

The Meyersdale Public Library (director Terri Foster, archivist Jennifer Hurl, and Pennsylvania Room volunteer Linda Marker) secured a folklore grant from the William G. Pomeroy Foundation and dedicated a “Legends & Lore” historical marker at 1818 Humbert Road in October 2023, at the entrance to Pennsylvania State Game Lands No. 111. Nearly thirty people attended, including several of Rugg's own descendants — confirmation that, unlike most hex tales, Prissy Rugg was a real, documented settler rather than a fictional composite.

The vocabulary of the Hexebarger legend — hex, witch of the hills, the German-inflected place name itself — traces to Braucherei (also called Powwow or Pow-wow), the system of folk healing and protective charm-work brought to Pennsylvania by German-speaking (“Pennsylvania Dutch”) settlers beginning in the 1700s. Braucherei distinguishes the benevolent braucher or powwow doctor, who heals and lifts curses, from Hexerei — malicious witchcraft performed by a Hex. Scholars of the tradition note that it moved west with settlement, remaining influential “especially in Appalachia and the rural South,” which is precisely how a hollow in the Alleghenies came to carry a Pennsylvania Dutch name for witchcraft two counties west of the traditional “Dutch Country.”

No witch was ever formally tried in the Alleghenies themselves, but the colony's single witchcraft prosecution set the tone for how such accusations were handled statewide. In 1683/84, Governor William Penn personally presided over the trial of Margaret Mattson, a Swedish immigrant near Philadelphia accused of bewitching cattle. The jury delivered a carefully hedged verdict — guilty of “having the common fame of a witch,” but not guilty of the acts charged — and Mattson was fined rather than executed. Because Penn had already abolished capital punishment for all crimes except willful murder, Pennsylvania never experienced a Salem-style panic, and local hex beliefs like the Rugg legend were left to circulate as folklore rather than as courtroom accusations

Two much better-known Pennsylvania Dutch hex cases belong to the same folk-magic tradition, though both lie east of the Allegheny range proper and are worth noting for comparison rather than as Allegheny events: the 1928 “Hex Hollow” murder of powwow doctor Nelson Rehmeyer in York County, and the 1934 murder of Susan Mummey, the “Witch of Ringtown Valley,” in Schuylkill County. In both cases, a man who believed himself cursed killed the alleged witch in hopes of breaking the hex — evidence that Braucherei/Hexerei belief was taken seriously across rural Pennsylvania well into the twentieth century, not just in the 1700s hill country of Turkeyfoot.

• Access point: Confluence, PA, GAP mile marker ~72 (Confluence station); Hexie Road and Humbert Road lie a few miles north/inland of town, off the trail corridor.
• Marker location: 1818 Humbert Road, at the entrance to PA State Game Lands No. 111 — a short detour by bike or car from Confluence, feasible as a side trip during a Confluence–Meyersdale leg.
• Primary local source: Samuel Miller, A Place Called Hexie (available through the Meyersdale Public Library); Rockwood Area Historical and Genealogical Society, Down the Road of Our Past, Vol. II.
• Respectful visiting note: Hexie Road passes private residences and descendants of the Rugg family still live in the area—view the marker and roadside, but treat the “abandoned house” stories as folklore, not an invitation to trespass.

Don Croner’s Wanders on the Great Allegheny Passage Bike Trail | Flora | Indian Cucumber-Root

Indian Cucumber-Root (Medeola virginiana L.) is another plant GAPers will have to step off the bike path to find. A true native of the Alleghenies, it is found in mature undisturbed forests of beech-maple, oak-hickory, and mixed hemlock-hardwoods.  It prefers shade, or at least a dappled forest floor; direct sunlight kills it. The very presence of Indian Cucumber-Root is indicative of a healthy, mature forest. If the forest has been disturbed, say by logging or forest fires, it may take a decade or more for Indian Cucumber-Root to reappear, if it ever reappears at all. 

Indian Cucumber-Root is unusual in that it is the sole species in the genus Medeola. This means that it has no near relatives and is truly a one-of-a-kind plant. The genus and species were named by Carl Linnaeus (1707–1780), the Swedish botanist who formalized binomial nomenclature, the modern system of naming biological specimens used down to the present day. The genus name Medeola is a Linnaean reference to Medea, the sorceress and herbalist of Greek myth—a reference to the plant's alleged medicinal use. The species name virginiana simply means "of Virginia," probably reflecting where the specimens obtained by Carl Linnaeus were found. The common name Indian Cucumber-Root refers to the rhizome, which both tastes and smells distinctly of cucumber and was historically gathered as food by Indigenous peoples of eastern North America.

GAPers are no doubt wondering how the Swede Carl Linnaeus, who never set foot in North America, came into the possession of the strictly North American plant he called Medeola virginiana L. (the L. indicates that Linnaeus himself named it). Every North American species he described in his landmark book Species Plantarum (1753), including Medeola virginiana, reached him through a network of botanists operating in the New World. First. there was John Clayton, a Virginia colonial official and self-taught botanist, who met the English naturalist Mark Catesby during one of his expeditions to New World and later shipping dried specimens and seeds back to him in London. Catesby in turn passed Clayton's material to the Dutch botanist Johan Frederik Gronovius in Leiden, Netherlands, who later corresponded with Clayton directly. Gronovius compiled Clayton's work into his book Flora Virginica (1739, 1743). Linnaeus spent the winter of 1737–1738 with Gronovius in Leiden, examining the Clayton specimens just before returning to Sweden. Those specimens became type material for many of the eastern North American species Linnaeus would later formally name. 

Then there was John Bartram, a Philadelphia Quaker farmer and gardener who ran the most important plant-collecting operation in the New World. From his garden on the Schuylkill River near Philadelphia, he sent boxes of seeds and dried specimens to Peter Collinson, a London wool merchant and Quaker who served as the clearing-house for American plant material in Europe. Collinson sent Bartram's shipments onward to Gronovius and to Linnaeus himself. Linnaeus famously called Bartram "the greatest natural botanist in the world.” The garden where he propagated New World plants exists to this day and is now officially known as  Bartram's Garden. The 45-acre public garden, just outside of the City of Brotherly Love, has been designated a National Historic Landmark and continues to attract tourists and the botanically inclined. 

The voracious plant collector Linnaeus, who was not totally satisfied with the specimens provided by Clayton and Bartram and others based in the New World, eventually decided to send Pehr Kalm, a Finnish-Swedish naturalist, to America to fill in the gaps in his collections. Kalm was one of the so-called Apostles who had gathered at the feet of the famous Swedish botanist. He arrived in Philadelphia in September 1748 with a letter of introduction from Linnaeus to Benjamin Franklin, and then proceeded to collect plants in Pennsylvania, and New Jersey, New York, and Quebec. Along the way he met with Cadwallader Colden, a New York naturalist who had corresponded earlier with Linnaeus, and met Colden's daughter Jane Colden, often considered America's first woman botanist. Kalm returned to Sweden in 1751. His collections supplied roughly ninety of the species Linnaeus described in Species Plantarum (1753), including sixty that were new to science. Linnaeus named the mountain-laurel genus Kalmia, to which Mountain Laurel—the signature plant of the Alleghenies—belongs, in his honor. It is not known which collector in the New World provided Linnaeus with the plant he named (Medeola virginiana L.)—Indian Cucumber-Root—and included in his 1753 book Species Plantarum. 

Back when Pennsylvania was almost completely covered with mature hardwood forests Indian Cucumber-Root was probably quite plentiful and it crisp, white rhizomes may have been a viable food source for Native Americans. Its ideal habitat has been drastically reduced and nowadays it appears mainly as single, isolated specimens. Foragers no longer seek it out as a food source. Although the genus Medea is named for the Greek sorceress and herbalist Medea there is only scant evidence that it was ever considered a consequential medicinal plant. The Iroquois are reported to have used an infusion of the crushed, dried berries and leaves to treat convulsions in infants, and it is thought to be mildly diuretic, but that’s about it. Modern herbalists seem to ignore it completely. If GAPers do stumble upon Indian Cucumber-Root they should admire it for the unique plant that it is, but otherwise leave it alone.

Indian Cucumber-Root

Indian Cucumber-Root

Indian Cucumber-Root

Indian Cucumber-Root

Don Croner’s Wanders on the Great Allegheny Passage Bike Trail | Raccoons

 THE GREAT RACCOON WAR

A Brick Tea Mystery, a Declaration of War, and the Treaty That Ended It

A field dispatch from the Great Allegheny Passage — as recounted in conversation with Perplexity, an AI agent.

Every field researcher eventually runs into wildlife that treats camp supplies as a personal buffet. On the Great Allegheny Passage, that role is filled nightly by raccoons — and one recent visit escalated from mild inconvenience to a full diplomatic incident. What follows is the complete record: the opening question about raccoon reputations, the discovery of the crime scene, the loss that triggered a declaration of war, a brief detour into Catholic moral theology, and the treaty that ultimately restored peace.

Setting the Scene: Are Raccoons the Worst Thieves in the Animal World?

Don: Are raccoons the worst thieves in the animal world?

Perplexity: Raccoons definitely have a well-earned "bandit" reputation, but calling them the worst thieves in the animal world is more playful folklore than objective fact.

Why Raccoons Feel So "Thievish"

Raccoons are nocturnal generalists that routinely raid trash cans, campsites, chicken coops, and pet food. They are equipped with highly dexterous front paws that can open lids, manipulate latches, and work their way into containers. Their dark facial "mask" has also helped make them classic trickster-thief figures in stories and pop culture.

From a human camp perspective, especially where food is repeatedly stolen, they absolutely feel like consummate little burglars.

Other Animal Thieves

Many species show similar or stronger thieving behavior, usually as opportunistic foraging rather than anything moral.

Animal	Typical "theft" behavior	Why people notice it
Raccoons	Raid trash, camps, coops, pet food.	Night activity, masks, hand-like paws.
Crows and ravens	Steal food, shiny objects, nest materials.	Highly intelligent and conspicuous.
Gulls	Snatch food from people and other birds.	Bold behavior in public spaces.
Foxes	Quiet theft of poultry, pet toys, and garden items.	Urban stealth and repeat visits.
Weasels and mink	Raid henhouses and nests.	Intense predation events look like theft.

So raccoons are notable, but not uniquely villainous.

The Camp Crime Report

Don: They can definitely open lids. One opened the lid on a jar of olive oil, allowing all of the olive oil to pour out. They also turned off the lid on a canister of black pepper, allowing the pepper to go to waste. Most obnoxiously they destroyed a brick of  prime black imported from China. I cannot forgive them for this.

Perplexity: That experience fits exactly with what is documented about raccoon dexterity. Wildlife and pest-control sources note that raccoons can unscrew lids, open containers, and manipulate closures to get at food.

Why This Happens

Raccoons have five highly flexible front digits and unusually sensitive touch. They can twist, pull, rotate, and test objects until they access food. Strongly scented items like oils, spices, and tea can attract them because these are concentrated odor sources.

So the olive oil, black pepper, and brick tea were not absurd outliers. They were exactly the kind of aromatic, high-interest targets raccoons investigate and often damage in the process.

Defensive Measures

The best non-lethal defenses are hard-sided, sealed storage and rigorous camp hygiene, including:

• Rigid lockable containers for oils, teas, and spices
• Double-bagging aromatic goods before storage
• Keeping food away from sleeping areas
• Thoroughly cleaning cooking surfaces after use
• Motion lights and noise deterrents to raise the cost of raiding

The Brick Tea Mystery: A $110 Declaration of War

What began as an inventory of camp losses turned into something much more serious once the true cost of the destroyed tea came to light.

Don: The Brick Tea costs $110 A Brick. I can forgive raccoons for a lot, but I cannot forgive them for this. Nobody messes with my tea and gets away with it. This means war!

Perplexity: A $110 brick of tea is entirely sufficient to justify a declaration of limited, strategic, non-lethal war.

Strategic Objective

For items like expensive brick tea, oils, and specialty botanicals, ordinary camp habits are not enough. Camping guidance recommends critter-proof or bear-resistant storage for food that would be costly or devastating to lose. Hard-sided lockable containers such as bear canisters, metal boxes, or reinforced heavy-duty screw-top buckets offer much better protection than soft bags or ordinary kitchen containers.

Tactical War Plan

• Store all food and scented items in sealed, rigid containers kept in a car, bear box, or similarly protected location whenever not in active use
• Use proper hangs when away from vehicles, though raccoons are strong climbers and rope-followers, so the method must be done well
• Keep cooking and eating areas scrupulously clean, since even small odors attract raiding attempts
• Reinforce coolers or containers with tight straps, weights, or more secure latching systems

Invoking the “Just War” Doctrine

Don: Would the Catholic principle of “Just War‘ be applicable here?

Perplexity: Not in any literal or official sense. Catholic Just War doctrine concerns armed conflict between human political communities, not retaliatory campaigns against wildlife.

What Just War Covers

Catholic Just War teaching, rooted in Augustine and Aquinas and reflected in modern Catholic explanations, is a framework for when human use of military force can be morally justified. It includes criteria such as just cause, legitimate authority, last resort, proportionality, and a reasonable prospect of success. A raccoon that destroys a tea brick may be an aggressor in the emotional sense, but not in the doctrinal one.

Animals and Ethics

Catholic thought on animals is usually framed in terms of stewardship and avoiding cruelty rather than warfare. The moral emphasis is on responsible dominion, restraint, and avoiding needless suffering to creatures.

The Metaphor, Mapped

As a joke, though, the structure maps surprisingly well:

• Just cause: protecting livelihood, supplies, and expensive tea
• Last resort: using stronger storage and deterrence only after losses occurred
• Proportionality: preventing theft rather than taking revenge

A Clarification

Don: OK, I was just joking. I am not J. D. Vance justifying the war in Iran

Perplexity: Understood. In the context of recent political controversies involving bizarre pet-related claims and online rumors, clarifying that the "war" language was purely humorous makes complete sense. The actual position expressed in this thread was clear: anger over the tea loss, a strong preference for humane deterrence, and no endorsement of cruelty.

The Treaty of Brick Tea

Don: Could you propose a Treaty between me and raccoons?

What followed was a full, mock-formal peace instrument between the Sovereign Protector of Expensive Chinese Teas and the United Confederation of Raccoons, Trash Pandas, and Masked Marauders — reproduced here in its entirety.

TREATY OF BRICK TEA

Concluded between:

The Sovereign Protector of Expensive Chinese Teas ("The Researcher")

and

The United Confederation of Raccoons, Trash Pandas, and Masked Marauders ("The Raccoons")

Preamble

Recognizing that:

• The Raccoons are agile, nocturnal foragers with scandalous tastes in imported goods
• The Researcher has endured the total destruction of a $105 brick of prime tea and now regards this as a cosmic injustice
• Both parties wish to avoid unnecessary escalation, shredded panniers, and midnight shouting matches

The following Treaty of Brick Tea is hereby proclaimed.

Article I — Sacred Status of Brick Tea

• All bricks of tea, cakes of pu-erh, and rare leaves are declared Sacred Non-Negotiable Objects
• The Raccoons acknowledge that "nobody messes with the tea" is not a figure of speech but an absolute metaphysical law
• WeArticle II — Lines of Demarcation

1. The Tea Vault

• The Researcher shall maintain a secure Tea Vault (metal box, bear canister, or equivalent fortress) for all high-value teas
• The Tea Vault is designated a Demilitarized Zone; raccoons may sniff the exterior, ponder its mysteries, and complain loudly, but may not chew, pry, or test its defenses

2. The Common Table

• Low-value crumbs, forgotten crackers, and unfortunate marshmallows may occasionally appear on the camp table
• The Researcher admits these may be subject to "lawful salvage operations" after camp is broken and the fieldwork day is done

Article III — Camp Etiquette and Hostilities

1. The Researcher agrees to:

• Keep all food properly sealed and elevated, respecting the raccoon capacity for opening lids
• Perform reasonable tidying of cooking areas so the campsite does not resemble an all-you-can-eat buffet
• Refrain from shouting legalistic Latin phrases at raccoons after midnight (unless particularly provoked)

2. The Raccoons agree to:

• Refrain from coordinated tea raids, olive-oil sabotage, and pepper-canister chemical warfare
• Limit operations to unsecured trash, unguarded coolers, and the campsites of people who ignore all posted food-storage guidelines
• Accept that, upon approach, they may be met with glaring headlamps, rude noises, and exasperated declarations of "This means war!" which are to be understood as symbolic only

Article IV — Non-Lethal Measures

• The Researcher’s right to deploy lockable containers, bear canisters, hanging systems, spice lines, bright lights, and loud clapping is recognized as legitimate defensive action, not an act of aggression
• The Raccoons retain the right to attempt minor reconnaissance, such as cautious snuffling under the picnic table, glare judgmentally at the Tea Vault, and gossip among themselves about the unreasonable human attachment to compressed leaves

Article V — Reparations

• In recognition of the loss of one $110 brick of tea, the Raccoons formally express Regret
• The Researcher may, at sole discretion, accept symbolic reparations in the form of entertaining antics observed at a safe distance or one photogenic raccoon pose suitable for future illustration

Article VI — Duration and Review

• This Treaty remains in force so long as the Tea Vault remains unbreached and no further premium teas, tinctures, or botanicals are destroyed
• Should another brick of tea be lost, emergency consultations will be convened and Total Raccoon Containment Protocol may be enacted

Final Declaration

By the authority vested in the Sovereign Protector of Expensive Teas and the somewhat dubious authority vested in the Masked Marauders of the Night, the Treaty of Brick Tea is hereby adopted.

Henceforth, the cry "This means war!" shall officially translate to:

"Tea is now stored in an impregnable vault, and you, dear raccoons, will have to steal someone else’s snacks."

And with that, peace returned to the Great Allegheny Passage — at least until the next brick of tea shows up.

Photo of Raccoon in accordance with Article V of the Treaty.

Photo of Raccoon in accordance with Article V of the Treaty.