A couple of years ago, I dragged my wife to Pennsylvaniaâs Loyalsock State Forest to check out a stream called Rock Run, which flows through dense second-growth woodlands stretching across northern Appalachia. I was living in nearby Williamsport at the time, and she had come to visit from New York City, where she was born and raised. The allure of Rock Run was that we could drive up an old logging road and hop out of the car at the prettiest spots. We wouldnât have to walk more than the equivalent of a few city blocks, yet in that span we could drink in the splendor of the wild, and experience solitude.