Philadelphia is covered by a vast conglomerate of parks and woodlands that stretch into every corner and crevice of the city. But among so much greenspace, the Wissahickon Valley stands out as an exceptionally striking piece of wilderness.
The Wissahickon Valley is an 1,800-acre gorge that cuts through the Northwest arm of Philadelphia. At the bottom of the gorge is the Wissahickon Creek and its numerous tributaries, all flowing towards their inevitable absorption into the Schuylkill River. The valley was quarried for many years because of its large deposits of schist, the stone that gives a lot of Philadelphia homes their distinctive shiny stone exteriors. During the 18th and 19th centuries, the gorge housed a variety of mills that were built along the creek, a few of which are still standing today in various stages of decay or functionality.
The air breathes cleaner here than in the rest of the city, the temperature is cool on a hot day, and the sounds of Philly’s hideous traffic are buffered by the dense tree cover and the high cliffs of the valley. It’s so lovely here that even Edgar Allen Poe, the uncrowned king of ennui himself, found a little peace when wandering its extensive trails (see: Morning on the Wissahiccon, Poe, 1844).
But, because this is October, I’m going to tell you about another side of the Wissahickon. The park is full of legends, lore, and other myths for you to explore on a long day’s hike. And we are going to begin this particular hike with the most infamous of these Wissahickon legends: The Society of the Woman in the Wilderness.
The Society of the Woman in the Wilderness was a 17th century doomsday cult. The known facts of their history are that Johannes Kelpius and his followers of German mystics set up camp in the Wissahickon in the 1690s to await the end of the world. Deriving their name from a story in the Book of Revelations, the group was certain the end was nigh and so decided to ride out the end in the peaceful woods along the embankments of the Wissahickon. (Fun fact: Kelpius was born in Transylvania, which is not really important to the story except for that little extra flavor). Well, obviously the end didn’t end, but Kelpius maintained his esoteric existence in the woods until he died there of Tuberculosis in 1708.
The stories of his Society have been fueling the imaginations of Philadelphians since Kelpius' lifetime, resulting in more than a few myths and legends rising from their unusual activities. The group built a small cave that still exists today as an out-of-time relic in the woods. Experienced hikers in the Wissahickon can lead you there, but it's placement is at the nexus of a set of unmarked trails, making it a bit difficult to find without help. Many hikers, myself included, would say that you can't spot the unnervingly camouflaged cave until you are standing at its entrance.
The rumor is that Kelpius practiced alchemy in that cave, and it would later be the site of his early death. Other legends claim that he was in possession of the famed Philosopher’s Stone, which he entrusted to his followers to destroy just before his death. One of his follower’s, per Kelpius’ strict instructions, threw a box possibly containing the stone into the Schuylkill River, not far from the cave, and watched as the water burst into a fiery explosion. (I’ll link to longer versions of these tales at the end, including an episode of the podcast Lore which does a wonderful retelling of the Kelpius legends).
Because of the myths surrounding it, many people sneak into the cave at night and set bonfires while graffitiing the walls. It's not unusual to find weird religious symbols painted inside, most likely the work of people who don't have a clue what they're writing. And then there are the occasional trash piles left by the late night visitors, which is just rude. As with all exploring, please use caution when searching for mysterious caves down unmarked trails, and definitely practice the buddy system.
Continuing through the Valley lets make a quick stop under the Henry Ave. Bridge (aka the Wissahickon Memorial Bridge) that connects the neighborhoods of Germantown, East Falls, and Roxborough. These neighborhoods were previously separated by the ravine that dips down into the Wissahickon Creek, and the completion of this bridge certainly helped streamline traffic through the city. Conceived in the 1920s and completed in the 1930s, the bridge was left with an expanded space below the road for a subway extension that was never built. As a result, the space below the bridge resembles the interior of a great cathedral stretching upward from the forest below.
The bridge is a short, but somewhat vertical, hike from the Kelpius Cave. There are no guardrails or fencing below the bridge, so please exercise caution. A bad slip and fall could send a wayward hiker down a 100+ foot drop and certain death. But the safe hiker will be treated to amazing views at the bridge and beyond along these upper trails.
This was a lot for only a fraction of the park. Check back in part two for tales of Revolutionary spies, cozy covered bridges, and a swimming hole that might contain the devil himself.
Further Reading:
Kopp, John. (2017). Did Wissahickon hermit have fabled philosopher's stone?. Philly Voice. https://www.phillyvoice.com/did-wissahickon-hermit-have-fabled-philosophers-stone/
Vidumsky, John. (2011). Doomsday Cult on the Wissahickon. Hidden City. https://hiddencityphila.org/2011/11/doomsday-cult-on-the-wissahickon/
Friends of the Wissahickon. Henry Avenue Bridge. https://fow.org/virtual-valley/trails-to-the-past/the-henry-avenue-bridge/
Atlas Obscura. Cave of Kelpius. https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/cave-of-kelpius
Lore. (2020). Episode 139: Heirloom. https://www.grimandmild.com/lore
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