Gone Hiking
Über Member
This is a part historical report / part trip report of sorts on a historic site that I again visited, for many times now, in a wilderness area near me this weekend. I study the history of this area quite a bit.
Tucked away in a quiet Appalachian mountain valley not far from my home lies a remote cold spring. As early as the 1700s, it was said that the Indians believed the water possessed medicinal powers. The spring gained enough attention that colonists began making journeys to visit it even before the American Revolution, though what accommodations - if any - existed in those earliest years remains unknown.
By the late 1700’s, at least one tavern had been built in this wilderness to serve visitors drawn to the spring’s reputed healing qualities. On March 28, 1803, its proprietor, Philip Culp, placed a notice in The Oracle of Dauphin & Harrisburgh Advertiser announcing that a fire on the night of February 27 had destroyed his buildings, and that he would be unable to host guests that summer unless “the charitably disposed” helped him rebuild.
“The public are respectfully informed, that owing to the misfortune of losing all my buildings by fire, on the night of the 27th February last, no accommodations can be had for those who may be disposed to visit the Cold Springs, in West Hanover township, Dauphin county, the ensuing summer, unless the charitably disposed should enable him to reinstate himself, so to serve a generous public.
Philip Culp.
March 18th, 1803.”
Another tavern soon took its place. An 1822 advertisement in the German-language newspaper Der Lebononer Morgenstern and Der Ware Democrat described the new establishment run by Jacob Wingert:
“THE MINERAL COLD SPRING. The undersigned continues to keep the tavern at Cold Spring, 18 miles from Jonestown in Lebanon County, which is now one of the best and improved stands. The house is 50 feet in width, contains 12 rooms and 1 kitchen, 2 bathhouses, one springhouse and stables. It has the best food, drink and beds, besides provisions of hay and oats. Those who wish to spend the summer here are informed that they will be accommodated at the cheapest rate. The region is healthful, and the water excels any in the State for many complaints, and has been proved beneficial by many people. The diversity of games, dancing and fishing will give sufficient pleasure in this fresh valley and hills. Men and women who like to seek this sort of refreshment can be confident of receiving complete satisfaction from this servant of the Public. Jacob Wingert”. (Translated.)
Prior to 1850, the only access to the spring was a rugged wagon trail that climbed over boulder-strewn mountains. That changed dramatically in 1850 when the 54-mile Dauphin & Susquehanna railroad opened, transforming travel and commerce throughout the valley. That same year, the Cold Spring Hotel was constructed directly at the spring and was marketed as a cool summer retreat for visitors seeking respite in the mountain valley.
The hotel quickly grew into a proper resort. It featured a springhouse, bathhouse, dancing hall, bowling alley, and a dam that created a half-mile-long lake for fishing and boating. In the 1880s, a second hotel was constructed adjacent to the first. The resort even operated its own farm, supplying fresh milk, cream, butter, and eggs. It included a chicken house, pig sty, apple and peach orchards, a vineyard, grain fields, and extensive vegetable gardens. Flour and cornmeal arrived by wagon from the nearest mill, while fresh meats and produce were delivered daily by train.
View along the front of the hotel’s foundation wall today.
Photo of the hotel from the late 1800’s, from a similar angle, along with a photo of visitors from that era.
The food at the resort was impressive for its time and location. A July 20, 1888, article in the Harrisburg Telegraph described an “elegant dinner” served to the Schuylkill County Bar Association during their annual excursion to Cold Spring. What stands out most is the presence of soft-shelled crabs - served in the middle of summer - more than 100 miles from the nearest saltwater source. How the hotel managed to keep such delicate seafood fresh remains a fascinating mystery.
Despite its amenities and apparent popularity - even surviving the Civil War - the hotel struggled to attract enough visitors and changed ownership frequently. A “Grand (re)Opening” announcement in the Reading Times on May 9, 1892, promised chicken and waffles for those in attendance.
By 1900, the resort was in serious decline, likely worsened by the closure of nearby coal mines after their low-quality coal proved unprofitable. That same year, the hotel burned to the ground under mysterious circumstances, marking the end of its days as a mountain resort.
In the early 20th century, the springhouse was converted into a water-bottling operation that sold “Cold Spring” water across eastern Pennsylvania. Later, the land served as a YMCA boys’ camp and then as a military training ground in the lead-up to World War II. In 1956, the property was deeded to the state and became part of a vast State Game Lands, consisting of 70 square miles of roadless wilderness, the second-largest such area in Pennsylvania after the Allegheny National Forest.
The springhouse foundation today is covered with a large metal grate.
A historic 1916 photo of the springhouse, with the long hotel foundation wall visible in the background, on the right. Note the toddler playing just in front of the springhouse. It appears that his dad is hustling over to keep him from falling into the stone-lined channel.
A 1920s photo of the springhouse and metal trough, leading to a bottling shed that was constructed after the hotel burned down.
This remote wilderness has been my weekend playground for many years. I love disappearing into these mountains to fish, hunt, hike, and explore their rich history. Today, you can reach the old resort site by biking six miles from the nearest rail-trail gate or by driving a steep, pothole-filled dirt road over the mountain and descending a mile into the valley. From there, it’s boots-on-the-ground exploring. This pic is of the dirt road leading to the cold spring. I can only imagine the condition of the dirt wagon trail that predated it.
Foundation of the water tank just uphill from the hotel site.
L-shaped foundation of the ice cellar tucked into the hillside.
Front steps of the hotel caretaker’s house.
1930s photos showing the caretaker’s house and bowling alley, re-purposed for use by the boys’ camp.
Every visit reveals new foundations, relics, or clues that spark more questions and draw me back. Though no desk clerk has greeted guests here in over 126 years, I checked myself into the hotel yesterday afternoon. I boiled water from the historic spring and brewed a cup of hemlock tea from trees now growing through the middle of the old hotel. I often do this at historic sites throughout these mountains - sitting quietly with a simple meal or drink, imagining the lives of those who once gathered here.
I will say this hotel offered the worst accommodations of any establishment I’ve ever visited. There was no roof, no walls, nor fireplace or stove to keep warm, and certainly no restroom facilities! Yet I loved every moment and felt deeply honored to be a guest. This forgotten mountain resort earns a heartfelt five-star review from me.
Tucked away in a quiet Appalachian mountain valley not far from my home lies a remote cold spring. As early as the 1700s, it was said that the Indians believed the water possessed medicinal powers. The spring gained enough attention that colonists began making journeys to visit it even before the American Revolution, though what accommodations - if any - existed in those earliest years remains unknown.
By the late 1700’s, at least one tavern had been built in this wilderness to serve visitors drawn to the spring’s reputed healing qualities. On March 28, 1803, its proprietor, Philip Culp, placed a notice in The Oracle of Dauphin & Harrisburgh Advertiser announcing that a fire on the night of February 27 had destroyed his buildings, and that he would be unable to host guests that summer unless “the charitably disposed” helped him rebuild.
“The public are respectfully informed, that owing to the misfortune of losing all my buildings by fire, on the night of the 27th February last, no accommodations can be had for those who may be disposed to visit the Cold Springs, in West Hanover township, Dauphin county, the ensuing summer, unless the charitably disposed should enable him to reinstate himself, so to serve a generous public.
Philip Culp.
March 18th, 1803.”
Another tavern soon took its place. An 1822 advertisement in the German-language newspaper Der Lebononer Morgenstern and Der Ware Democrat described the new establishment run by Jacob Wingert:
“THE MINERAL COLD SPRING. The undersigned continues to keep the tavern at Cold Spring, 18 miles from Jonestown in Lebanon County, which is now one of the best and improved stands. The house is 50 feet in width, contains 12 rooms and 1 kitchen, 2 bathhouses, one springhouse and stables. It has the best food, drink and beds, besides provisions of hay and oats. Those who wish to spend the summer here are informed that they will be accommodated at the cheapest rate. The region is healthful, and the water excels any in the State for many complaints, and has been proved beneficial by many people. The diversity of games, dancing and fishing will give sufficient pleasure in this fresh valley and hills. Men and women who like to seek this sort of refreshment can be confident of receiving complete satisfaction from this servant of the Public. Jacob Wingert”. (Translated.)
Prior to 1850, the only access to the spring was a rugged wagon trail that climbed over boulder-strewn mountains. That changed dramatically in 1850 when the 54-mile Dauphin & Susquehanna railroad opened, transforming travel and commerce throughout the valley. That same year, the Cold Spring Hotel was constructed directly at the spring and was marketed as a cool summer retreat for visitors seeking respite in the mountain valley.
The hotel quickly grew into a proper resort. It featured a springhouse, bathhouse, dancing hall, bowling alley, and a dam that created a half-mile-long lake for fishing and boating. In the 1880s, a second hotel was constructed adjacent to the first. The resort even operated its own farm, supplying fresh milk, cream, butter, and eggs. It included a chicken house, pig sty, apple and peach orchards, a vineyard, grain fields, and extensive vegetable gardens. Flour and cornmeal arrived by wagon from the nearest mill, while fresh meats and produce were delivered daily by train.
View along the front of the hotel’s foundation wall today.
Photo of the hotel from the late 1800’s, from a similar angle, along with a photo of visitors from that era.
The food at the resort was impressive for its time and location. A July 20, 1888, article in the Harrisburg Telegraph described an “elegant dinner” served to the Schuylkill County Bar Association during their annual excursion to Cold Spring. What stands out most is the presence of soft-shelled crabs - served in the middle of summer - more than 100 miles from the nearest saltwater source. How the hotel managed to keep such delicate seafood fresh remains a fascinating mystery.
Despite its amenities and apparent popularity - even surviving the Civil War - the hotel struggled to attract enough visitors and changed ownership frequently. A “Grand (re)Opening” announcement in the Reading Times on May 9, 1892, promised chicken and waffles for those in attendance.
By 1900, the resort was in serious decline, likely worsened by the closure of nearby coal mines after their low-quality coal proved unprofitable. That same year, the hotel burned to the ground under mysterious circumstances, marking the end of its days as a mountain resort.
In the early 20th century, the springhouse was converted into a water-bottling operation that sold “Cold Spring” water across eastern Pennsylvania. Later, the land served as a YMCA boys’ camp and then as a military training ground in the lead-up to World War II. In 1956, the property was deeded to the state and became part of a vast State Game Lands, consisting of 70 square miles of roadless wilderness, the second-largest such area in Pennsylvania after the Allegheny National Forest.
The springhouse foundation today is covered with a large metal grate.
A historic 1916 photo of the springhouse, with the long hotel foundation wall visible in the background, on the right. Note the toddler playing just in front of the springhouse. It appears that his dad is hustling over to keep him from falling into the stone-lined channel.
A 1920s photo of the springhouse and metal trough, leading to a bottling shed that was constructed after the hotel burned down.
This remote wilderness has been my weekend playground for many years. I love disappearing into these mountains to fish, hunt, hike, and explore their rich history. Today, you can reach the old resort site by biking six miles from the nearest rail-trail gate or by driving a steep, pothole-filled dirt road over the mountain and descending a mile into the valley. From there, it’s boots-on-the-ground exploring. This pic is of the dirt road leading to the cold spring. I can only imagine the condition of the dirt wagon trail that predated it.
Foundation of the water tank just uphill from the hotel site.
L-shaped foundation of the ice cellar tucked into the hillside.
Front steps of the hotel caretaker’s house.
1930s photos showing the caretaker’s house and bowling alley, re-purposed for use by the boys’ camp.
Every visit reveals new foundations, relics, or clues that spark more questions and draw me back. Though no desk clerk has greeted guests here in over 126 years, I checked myself into the hotel yesterday afternoon. I boiled water from the historic spring and brewed a cup of hemlock tea from trees now growing through the middle of the old hotel. I often do this at historic sites throughout these mountains - sitting quietly with a simple meal or drink, imagining the lives of those who once gathered here.
I will say this hotel offered the worst accommodations of any establishment I’ve ever visited. There was no roof, no walls, nor fireplace or stove to keep warm, and certainly no restroom facilities! Yet I loved every moment and felt deeply honored to be a guest. This forgotten mountain resort earns a heartfelt five-star review from me.
Just boil water, pour into your mug, and then steep a few sprigs of hemlock needles. It has a crisp, piney, medicinal flavor/aroma, as you'd expect.