Category Archives: Adventures

Crazy Adventures

The Return

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One of my favorite locations in the Adirondacks would have to be Bog River. It’s a location rich in history and a rather frequent subject of my writing. After paddling and camping there since 1998 I’d have to say it has a rich history for me as well. My administrator Gerry Washburn took a Facebook post of mine and used it for my first blog post. Simply titled Bog River Flow it told a small story. One Jennifer would enter some twenty years later when I took her there for a paddle in the fall of 2018. We return there a couple times a year since and have made some fabulous MOONTABS together! Last fall’s beaver interaction will be a memory that I shall cherish forever! There’s a certain energy that can be found there on an autumn day. A myriad of colors and scents as the daylight shortens each day. The beaver set a pace of urgency that a writer could lose him or herself in easily when entering their habitat. The beaver of Bog River Flow represent a constant. In harmony with the location itself. Perhaps that is the message I seek to bring to the reader. The lands and waterways of the Bog River Flow have changed little since my first foray there in August of 1998.What first brought me to this special place? Fish. The lure of big largemouth bass. Coworkers told me of camping there and catching fish. I was an avid angler in 1998 and drawn to the waters of the Adirondacks which were mostly unknown to me at that time. If you follow my posts you already know of my love of camping. The unknown expanses begged exploration. Summer was waning and Labor Day weekend was close when I decided to go for the very first time. It’s a story unto itself as I often write. Ones I promise to tell but sometimes fail to get together. But life moves forward quickly and other adventures take precedence. My stories are firmly secure in my memory and in the deeds of the past. They are much like an old jean jacket that I once owned. Faded but still very much something I treasured. Once again I take you the reader far from my path of intended subject! Perhaps I seek to paint the backdrop of a large and colorful canvas. One spanning decades now and a recent return to that treasured place of constant. This is a short story of this summer and three days of camping with good friends. It all started with a group message from my best bud Lawrence’s son Ryan. Ryan had some history of his own at Bog River Flow after camping with his Dad and us years ago. A mutual friend Greg had also joined us there several times. Ryan desired a reunion camping trip of sorts if we could organize one and get everyone together. Dates were chosen and penciled in on calendars. Easy for me the retiree and my student summer vacation son Zane. More challenging but doable for my working friends with a little careful planning on their end. As is often the fashion with a group of guys, the dates were chosen and little discussion followed for some time. As the dates closed in the details were finalized with a casual exchange of texts. This was nothing new to us. Greg,Lawrence, and I had a history of camping together. One that spanned more years than I cared to remember actually. We were the seasoned veterans of Adirondack camping trips. The bushmen of remote Canadian lakes. Our gear no doubt still carrying traces of those dusty logging roads that had taken us far from our normal routines. We had planned and organized. Cursed those things we forgot and thanked our buddies who had packed extra. We were more than friends having shared so very much over the years.We were coworkers at times. Tied to each other with family events and sorrow. We knew each other so very well and had the trust of years of friendship. We were the Band of Brothers. Our sons had joined in and enjoyed the so called “man trips”. All manners of shelter and conveniences or lack there of as was often the case. It was of little consequence for us thinking back. We adapted to the circumstances with a group energy of cooperation.We worked together as a collective drawing on each other’s particular talents and skills. We rarely argued despite our occasional differences of opinion. It was teamwork and mutual respect. That place of finding niches and occupying them with the attitude of benefiting the group objectives. We made MOONTABS that are secure in their timeline for ever more. This was our history. There was no need to overthink the packing and planning. We could assign simple lists and know that everyone would do their job. Solid foundations make for sturdy structures. Little more need be said of our planning. The weather for the day of our departure proved favorable which was a big surprise as this summer has been less than dry. We picked a time to meet at the lower dam access point and hoped parking would be available. It’s a bit crowded at times and tough to get a vehicle off the narrow gravel road that leads to a small parking lot. Zane and I were a little behind schedule that Monday morning and arrived to find the others already there unloading their camping gear. We exchanged some quick greetings and began to unload in earnest. There were some other paddlers filling up the small section of beach just above the dam where we would launch once it was open. We staged our gear just above them and as our piles grew so did my anxiety. Six guys,a dog,and all that gear needed to fit into two canoes for the most part. The two small kayaks would carry some of it but it seemed like a Herculean task next to the pile of gear!As the other paddlers began to depart, Zane and I placed our canoe on the beach’s edge near our stash of gear. We loaded our gear easily into our sixteen foot Old Town that is actually called the “Camper” model.We assisted the rest of group after and even added some of their gear into our canoe.Lawrence has a large seventeen foot aluminum canoe that is capable of holding a lot of gear fortunately. But the problems multiplied quickly when it became apparent that much of their gear was packed into plastic totes of various sizes. We had some of our gear in totes as well but much less of it.The rounded,narrow sides of canoes don’t favor large,bulky rectangular objects. Loose,flexible packages fit in well around the totes and coolers. Lawrence’s canoe soon began to resemble an ocean bound cargo container ship as the plastic totes began to pile up.A revolving debate ensued as several different packing attempts took on the appearance of a geometric table top game. Zane and I continued to add gear onto our already well loaded canoe after cautious deliberation. Eventually I was forced to refuse any further infusion of awkwardly shaped camping gear and suggested to Zane a test paddle in shallow water. Once the dog had settled we found ourselves a little off balance but seaworthy to a degree. Our destination was over a mile away and balance would be key!Ryan and his cousin Matthew easily floated in their lightweight kayaks. It all was coming down to that critical moment when Greg and Lawrence would attempt their launch. Zane and I sat a short distance away watching it all play out.The final countdown! Mission control we have a launch! They are floating and in motion! No wait! Abort mission! They have turned back! We paddled back to find them unloading the canoe once again. Only one viable decision remained after that. A second trip would be necessary. So gear was stacked on shore and our small flotilla headed upstream finally. Shortly after leaving the small reservoir by the dam behind the river chokes down into a narrow channel with the forest rising high above on both sides. It’s somewhat dark and cool there even on a sunny morning. The scents hit you with a sudden clarity. The rich evergreen smells of balsam and pine mixed with the slightly organic scent of water as your paddle slices through it. I always take a moment to let it all sink in at this point. The trip is solidly underway and adventure waits for us upstream on the pond known as Hitchin’s. We hoped to find an open campsite there that could accommodate our group. We passed the earlier group of paddlers who had stopped to consult their map. We moved along quite quickly given our well laden watercraft sitting low in the water. I took Zane through a couple lily pad covered shortcuts to save a little paddling and we kept pace with the group easily. The river widened into a wide swampy series of small ponds in a couple spots before we reached the old railroad trestle. I don’t know the history of the railroad but it’s being made into a trail system now. It’s ties and tracks removed recently.It’s never been used in the years I’ve paddled there. I’ve always thought of it as the halfway point of the paddle but will bear no responsibility to accuracy of that statement. Some time later I began to feel the constant paddling begin to tire my arms some and called on Zane to “bend into it!”. I’ve used a kayak paddle to paddle a canoe for many years now. It’s a great workout and I find it very effective. As we passed the final corner just before the pond itself I looked for the high ledges that sit off to the west. Also a constant of the flow. They always invoke a certain feeling in me that I can’t truly explain. I always look back at them on the return trip as well. A time and earthly constant connection perhaps that defies words but touches a spirit nerve. It’s one of those “if only” moments.If only I could pass that feeling into you. The rise of rock beyond the forest where sky and clouds meet with picturesque perfection. We float and paddle far below under those open skies.It’s a point where I truly enter the adventure. We have entered a realm of natural beauty and now seek out our short term home. The entire area is beautiful but the pond setting pulls everything together. We gazed up the pond hoping to find our favorite site vacant and sent Ryan ahead to scout it out for us. A second closer site was available if necessary but we deemed it too small for the group if we wished to have plenty of space.It wasn’t too long before we heard Ryan’s shout of conquest! He had secured the site.The group soon reached the gravel beach just below the site. It’s actually part of an old road that served some purpose during the years of the Low’s Dynasty. There are a couple beaver ponds that lie just behind the old road. The culvert under the road plugged and deserted years ago. I read that one of the ponds was actually a bass pond that was constructed as part of the Low’s compound for the guests of the fishing lodge. Apparently it breached and the bass were released into Hitchin’s Pond. Ultimately to decimate the trout population. Our campsite sat further up the old road in a clearing that offers a spectacular view of the pond. Well trodden and used often by campers firewood is extremely scarce in the forest there. The previous campers had left some ridiculously large logs that they had attempted to burn unsuccessfully. Of no concern to me as I had already spotted some much better and readily available wood nearby. A previous camper had constructed a crude table next to a tree. It was rather cleverly constructed using some imported plywood and beaver sticks. Apparently they had planned for some sort of construction.

The Subtle Art Of Camp Life

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July presses forward with somewhat unseasonal weather here in the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York. The rains have dominated the forecast and pound the area with incessant,unrelenting frequency. Our soggy debut camping trip of six days at the end of June left us more experienced with boondocking in the Airstream but found us regrouping with a more weather focused preparation. We purchased additional tarps and light tethering ropes. We retired the screen house in favor of a larger steel framed garage sale tent. We only had six days before leaving our staging area in Jennifer’s yard and heading back up to the Adirondacks for our next trip. The forecast was anything but promising but we decided that canceling was not an option. Jennifer had toiled hard to secure the dates through a cancellation website. Giving up wasn’t an option for us at any rate. We headed out on a sunny Saturday afternoon. The truck fully loaded with gear, a kayak, and canoe pulling the Airstream. Jennifer’s car also fully loaded with gear. Sporting a canoe on top and two dogs in the back. We were a party of four. Jennifer,Zane,Garrett (Jennifer’s nephew), and myself.The dogs Stella and Greaser. Coolers,drinks, and all sorts of dry goods. A fully loaded refrigerator and freezer in the coach. The cupboards and drawers packed in advance. Jennifer is a fabulous planner and organizer. She’s set up the travel coach for efficiency and order.It remained up to us to learn the locations of the different things we’d need as the days unfolded. Our camping locations are state parks without full hook ups so there’s a little extra planning on my end of things. We need the generator and extra gas for it. I use a plastic siphon to gas up my generator. It’s clean and efficient.Better than a funnel I feel.We checked in at our campground then headed to our site after a quick stop to fill the 40 gallon water tank of our coach. I prefer to travel with minimal fresh water on board. At 7 pounds plus per gallon it adds a lot of weight to the trailer.Next came my least favorite part! Backing the trailer into the campsite! We like camping in forested parks so the abundance of trees makes for tricky parking at times. It’s a group effort with spotters on both sides. It’s always a relief once I get it close! We then work together to get it level side to side and front to back. We employ a variety of plastic ramp pieces and pieces of lumber. It gets easier with experience! Front to back is never a problem with the electric tongue jack doing all the work! We begin to work separately after that as I finish the final coach setup. The camp takes shape fairly quickly once the large tent site is chosen. It takes a couple hours of brisk activity to get everything in order in a manner that flows. The boys settle into their space after blowing up air mattresses and rolling out sleeping bags. Our bedroom area is set up permanently at this point so that saves us time! The cooking/dining tent is a vital part of our camp. It cuts down on traffic in and out of the coach. We also have learned to set up an outdoor dishwashing station behind the coach. I mentioned much of this in a recent post but there’s a direction of thought here that begs reflection. It’s that point early in the trip where you settle into a sort of informal daily routine. We spend most of the day outside if the weather is favorable. Cooking and dining both. Evenings find us close to the campfire talking about the adventures of the day. We don’t always do everything as a group. It just depends on the activities that are chosen for any given day. I suppose it’s the use of my time each day that takes me into a pensive forest of thought. I very quickly adapt into a life of late evenings and late mornings. I find myself sleeping in longer. Eight hours in bed sometimes. Very different than the four to five hours of sleeping each night during my working years. I find myself feeling as if I am wasting time or missing out.Perhaps I am still too driven to truly relax. After all time can be a nemesis for me as you may know if you follow my stories. I’m trying to overcome these strange thoughts but it’s going to take some time it appears. A typical morning has certain tasks that must be performed. Perked coffee the first order of business. Much more time consuming than a Keurig but very tasty! Generators can’t be started prior to 9am. The boys sleep late so breakfast becomes a daily brunch. Today we didn’t eat until almost noon! The morning walk to the toilet and drive to the shower house. Our daily activities begin after 1pm many days. Rarely before 11am. Sometimes brunch is early with no cooking at all. Today is day thirteen here for me. We were supposed to go home after six days but Jennifer picked up some cancellations that tied two separate trips together. We actually moved to an adjacent site for one night last Friday. Talk about tear down and set up! We didn’t need to set up the tents at least! Then the kicker! The site we vacated remained empty that night! The whole reservation system is a mess in my opinion! Reserve America? How about we focus on New York State? But that takes us down the dark trail of negativity so let’s get back on track! When I stop and take a solid inventory of my days here where exactly did my time get spent? Most definitely on camp chores. The constant rain events keep us scrambling to dry towels and gear. We had a couple of somewhat destructive rain and wind events. The one two nights ago nearly destroyed our cooking tent.It hit suddenly and fiercely with little warning. It had been a rather lovely day. Warm and humid with a mix of sun and clouds. Zane and I had spent several hours paddling what’s known as the Floodwood Loop. Very fun with two short canoe carries. We had just gone to the shower house to clean up when the storm hit. Jennifer and Garrett rescued the tent and a bunch of our gear. We returned to help salvage the cooking tent and reset it. The boys sleeping tent and large tarp above weathered the storm like nothing happened! Regardless those types of storm events keep us busy! Zane and I have spent quite a bit of time paddling and hiking during the time he’s been here. It’s been in and out some for my three companions here with the endless details back home that can’t be avoided. I’ve pretty much put life back in the valley on hold these last thirteen days. One thing that takes time here is getting to town to get decent cell phone and internet service. We basically need to drive into Tupper Lake to do that most days. We double down picking up necessities like milk and ice. Firewood if we run low. It gives us a little diversity at times. Zane and I often need to drive to reach our hiking trailheads so we do our business on the way. Our most recent hike was up Catamount Mountain. It turned into quite the ordeal when we got separated from the dog on a tough rock scramble! It pretty much finished our day by the time we bushwhacked our way back out after losing the trail while retrieving Gracie. We learned a valuable lesson of teamwork and the importance of not getting separated! We didn’t return until after 7pm and a thunderstorm drove us into the coach. It was one of those nights where we were glad to have it’s kitchen and sleeping amenities! I think it may take some post camp life living to truly reflect on our time spent here. The days run together here and time passes much too fast. I need to run home for a few days before returning for the last three days of our reservation on this site.Today a north born wind chills me when the sun hides behind a cloud for a moment. The clothesline sways and our items finally dry! All is well and the afternoon awaits our decision of how best to spent the remainder of our day. Evening will require the second meal of the day to be crafted. Dishes and the purring generator recharging the batteries. A carefully laid fire if the rains don’t return. Camp life as I have never known it continues for the moment. How best to describe it and honor those moments remains the writer’s challenge. For the hours become rambling and difficult to follow at times in their silent passage. I don’t watch the clock here. I watch the sky and track the movement of the sun if we’re lucky enough to view it. Life flows with the daylight and the darkness. And if I sleep long and deep perhaps I need it. Leaving the race has been a challenge. Not to worry. I always seem to find my way back onto the track for a time. The home on wheels can’t stay here forever nor can we. The energy lives in the forward motion. This life that has become MOONTABS In Motion.Places of outdoor beauty where loons cry and waves gently lap on sandy shores. I try to find my balance here as these summer days tick past. I pull out my map and gaze upon the many unknown waterways that wait for us to explore them. And fondly remember those we know now. The dashes of untraveled trails on a map call with an urgency at times. Perhaps the drive represents more than I can understand at this moment in time. I must enter the now and count my small blessings. To question is to learn new answers. To follow the heart brings passion and love into the light. It is enough this simple existence.The spirit energy will fuel the journey.The stories will follow.

The Debut

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It’s been a busy summer so far and time seems to be flying! We’ve continued outfitting our Airstream coach since bringing it to Jennifer’s. She took charge inside setting up drawers and cabinets with all sorts of household items that would be needed to make for a successful outing. She’s good at things like that but it takes some thinking to make everything flow when space is at a premium. We settled for a 27 ft. coach for several reasons. Weight was certainly a factor although my truck is capable of towing a much larger trailer. I’m very impressed with how well it actually tows! It’s very stable with the “Blue Ox” hitch I purchased at the dealer coupling it to the truck. I haven’t towed it that many miles yet but know that I’d leave for a cross country trip with no hesitation! I also purchased a type of insurance called “Coach Net”. It’s like Triple A on steroids! We hope to never need to use it but it provides some nice benefits if we ever have issues with the coach or problems of any kind on the road. Time will tell the tale and I’ll give it a review sometime. My thoughts were simple. We travel to have an enjoyable adventure.Why not do everything we can to give ourselves peace of mind? Check it out if you’re not familiar with it! Another factor in choosing our coach size was our desire to “fit” ourselves easily into camping sites. Backing a travel coach into sites can be challenging. Experience will come in time I realize but it’s a little daunting! In the Adirondacks we haven’t seen any “pull through” sites to date. They may exist but we haven’t found them yet. In fact the places that we are camping don’t even have full hookups. I’ll cover that in greater detail at some point. A third reason for purchasing our coach was practicality. We expect that Jennifer and I will often be traveling alone. Two people and two dogs. We have plenty of space for that! All this being said we slowly transited into a “pre-flight” mode of setup. I load tested the small Honda generator I purchased for boondocking. Quiet and easy to move around at 47 lbs. Our twin set of batteries keep the coach alive when we aren’t connected to a permanent power source. The refrigerator functions with electricity or propane so there’s never an issue there. Same with the water heater.We’re very self contained. Pretty typical for most campers but I think Airstream has added some nice bonus features. We have an onboard inverter for added power when the batteries are utilized. Having two batteries is definitely a bonus. The days ticked past and our debut camping trip drew ever closer. We checked off our lists and added to them as well! Our trip would be a bit of a hybrid. A mix of outdoor cooking and some items kept in a cooler. Our Airstream has a nice sized refrigerator and freezer but our trip was to last for 6 days. A cooler was still a necessity. A tent was as well. Jennifer’s giant two room tent would house Zane and his belongings. Overflow storage as well. I also brought my screen house but I‘ll revisit that some other time! We planned to use the toilets and shower facilities at the campground to conserve our water supply and not overtax our gray and black water tanks. You can’t make it 6 days with 3 people otherwise with no hookups. Our group was supposed to be larger but circumstances kept that from happening. With a larger group using the park facilities would be even more of a necessity.The weather forecast was less than perfect but we decided to keep our plans regardless. Having the comforts of the coach outweighed any negatives overall. We packed extra tarps just in case we needed them. Jennifer and I both like using plastic totes for storing camping gear. They’re easy to transport and great for organizing your belongings. We set up a staging area in Jennifer’s garage and our gear pile grew quickly! We planned on taking the canoes so there’s paddles, life vests, and cushions to pack. Folding chairs and camp tables. We decided to cook outside so we were bringing a propane stove and griddle as well. We use the picnic table that sits on every site for a multi purpose work station and eating location. It’s amazing the number of items it takes to prepare for a comfortable outing! We also included our fishing equipment into the pile. Jennifer began stocking food,spices, and paper products into the coach as the week progressed. We started the refrigerator 24 hours before our departure to get it cooled down properly. It takes longer for an Rv type refrigerator to cool due to its design. We placed some blue ice packs into both the frig and freezer to aid in the process. Things were shaping up! We got the truck prepped and packed ahead of time as well. Monday morning came and I got ready to hook onto the coach. It takes a few minutes and there’s a checklist of sorts that I follow. Finally the moment leading to departure. Light check. I powered up the coach camera that is typically used for backing up but it’s a great tool when driving! It gives you added vision when on the highway. I felt that momentary twinge of anxiety I get just before towing any trailer but knew it would quickly pass. The truck and Airstream are well matched for the road! It always amazes me the amount of time it takes to prepare for an outing away from the comforts of our homes! But it’s time well spent when you plan properly!The day had arrived that had sat on calendars weeks in advance. The debut was about to begin. The events of those days of camping worthy of their own post. It was time to begin MOONTABS In Motion!

What’s Over The Next Hill?

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The simple words of a title can’t always capture the passion that inspires a story or even come close. Several weeks ago my short and sweet post titled Glamping would break the ice and provide a tiny background into my love of camping. In my desire to seize the moment and hurl myself into the realms of nature all else can fade somewhat. The words must wait as I chase the daylight across the sky. For there is intense energy in the poetry of motion and the magic that waits for us in the great outdoors. It’s as much a part of me as anything. As for the title of this post the words are borrowed. They will forever belong to a man named Wally Byam. I borrow them with respect for they truly resonate within my inner spirit. Who was Wally Byam? He was the creative energy,passion,and founder of the Airstream Company. You’ve no doubt see their signature travel trailers as you journey the highways of North America. Their metal hulls instantly recognizable and truly unique.Why my sudden interest and connection to Airstream? The story is much deeper than even I realized until today. It wasn’t until I visited the Airstream home page and read the story of Wally Byam that I could truly appreciate my connection to his words. Wally’s Creed. Powerful and meaningful to me.It sends a shiver up my spine and adds fuel to a fire that has always burned. As for the video Airstream created it’s remarkable! Check it out! The camera footage of vintage tow vehicles and travel trailers alone makes it worth watching! Why the sudden interest in the Airstream story and Wally Byam? I will need to back up for that one for a few paragraphs. Traveling was not a big part of my childhood or adolescent years. We never owned a travel trailer or even camped.I was the lover of camping! The thousands of acres surrounding us provided ample space for me to explore. Books and magazines connected me to far off destinations. Historically speaking, I have always secretly regretted not being born in the 1800s. Tales of explorers and fur trappers out on those wide expanses of America would trigger my imagination. Western novels of the old west as well. Ranches and cattle drives. Alaska and the frontiers of fortune. Our mom loved to travel but it was hard to get our Dad to vacation so our Aunt Betty Washburn traveled with us! We toured parts of upstate New York and the New England states as far up as Maine. Great memories that time turns hazy as years pass and the decades run together. After our Mom died our father eventually decided that we needed a family vacation around 1978. We left in a giant Ford Mercury. A boat of a car! Two weeks on the road would take us to Arizona and back. The Grand Canyon,the Painted Desert, and the Petrified Forest baked into my memory in the dry,arid lands so very different than home. I loved the experience although towards the end I was rather burned out by the daily long distance itinerary. Miles and miles of travel. Motel rooms and sometimes sketchy restaurants that challenged the digestive tract!But I’ve always treasured that road vacation as it was the only one we ever did together. Our Father’s job,the farm, and my sister’s entrance into college were all factors in lives dictated by time. By work and schedule. Overall the trip broadened my horizons considerably. On the roads we passed the Airstream trailers. “Sardine Cans” our father called them!Fast forward many years. 2012. The Alaska road trip towing a used travel trailer with a new Ford 3.5L Ecoboost power plant. I’d never lost my imagination or desire to travel and with the approach of my birthday it was time. Age 50 was one I’d be taking seriously. Time and travel had been grabbed in small pieces until that 5 week road trip.The trailer was sold in Alaska and never replaced in the frantic years that followed. But retirement in November 2017 changed the game. Zane and I threw ourselves in camping and hiking in the Adirondacks. I met Jennifer.A woman who’s love of travel equals if not surpasses my own. We’ve discussed traveling many times. We’ve experienced some fabulous family vacationing in the Adirondacks and once in California together. The drive to branch out and head off to new places has intensified since the events of 2020 forced restrictions that halted long distance travel.This year we began to seriously consider purchasing a travel trailer or Rv after I sold my home of 6 years. Hours upon hours of research. Endless reviews complete with purchaser horror stories. Indecision began to steal the fun from the moment. Buy new or used? Which brand? Certain ones were impossible to locate and would require waiting almost a year if one was ordered! We found a decent used one that we decided would work this year. We’d order our new one and have it in the spring in time for summer travel. But the deal feel through suddenly and without warning much to my dismay. I began to search once again. I looked at a few new ones here in the St. Law. Co. area but nothing felt right. No offense but there are some rather disposable travel trailers out there. I recently read that the average life of some travel trailers is a mere 15 years! Yikes! Not a good investment considering the cost. I wasn’t thrilled with any of the used travel trailers we located near us. It was a very disappointing moment for me! But the energy of the universe works in mysterious ways. I suddenly began considering an Airstream for the first time. Call it that gut feeling we sometimes get. I previously had felt that an Airstream was beyond our reach as a sensible investment but as I researched every aspect of them I decided that we should try and find one! There were several key factors that factored into that long term investment of features, and quality.Finding one proved somewhat difficult however. But I was not easily deterred once I decided that an Airstream was the perfect fit for my long term vision of MOONTABS. My search led me to Colton Rv in Orchard Park, New York just outside of Buffalo. They had 4 used Airstreams for sale so I made the 4 hour plus trip down on a Tuesday morning just planning to look. I had never stepped into an Airstream despite my researched familiarity with their floor plans and accessories. I ended up buying one! The experience deserves a more detailed post. There’s an energy that lead me there having never read Wally Byam’s words until today. I need to ponder it and try to get the story right! The dream of MOONTABS can be found in the life of Wally Byam and what his company has represented since 1931. Honestly, I still haven’t totally gotten used to the fact that we now own an Airstream and it’s parked in Jennifer’s yard being prepped for a trip! The time spent researching a travel coach purchase is behind us. The open road is there ahead of us! We’re proud of our decision and all it represents for the MOONTABS dream!Watch for an upcoming post showcasing the life of Airstream founder Wally Byam,Colton Rv, and the Airstream family of travel coach’s! It’s inspiring to say the least! As for my connection to Wally Byam? My word’s as a young boy quoted back to me by our father eerily and similarly echoed in a quote of his. They were penned by me in November of 2017. My story is called “The Other Side of the Hill”. I leave you with Wally’s quote: “Keep your eyes on the stars,and the stars in your eyes…see if you can find out what’s over the next hill, and the next one after that.” (Does that give you a shiver or pause to reflect?)I feel I made the right choice without even knowing why. Spirit energy? Or simple coincidence? I chose the energy every time now. It’s going to be a wild ride my friends!✍️

Horsing Around On The Obx

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We’ve just returned from a whirlwind trip to North Carolina moving Jennifer’s daughter to the Durham area. We were so close to the coast that we decided to spend a couple days there exploring and seeing the sights. The roads and highways in the Durham area are quite busy but as we ventured towards the coast the traffic thinned and we enjoyed some beautiful country scenery. Our route took us through several small villages where prosperity or lack of it was rather obvious. Only with investigation could we ever know the true story of life in these small towns or the people who call them home. There was a rigorous amount of agricultural activities which were good to see. Fields of sprouting corn, grain, and things unknown to us from the windows of the truck. Eventually as we neared the coast the land became very low lying with swampy sections of mixed forests and water filled ditches. We began to spot numerous turtles sunning themselves on logs and bogs. We reached an access road leading into the Alligator River Wildlife Refuge and decided to take a back road tour of it. Apparently black bears live here and we kept a watchful eye on the thick brushy ditches and open maintained clearings. A local kayak adventure company does tours here we learned on some of the coastal waterways within the refuge. We eventually grew tired of seeing nothing but turtles and endless watery ditches so we began to seek a way out. The dirt roads were quite well maintained and decent to travel with only a few other vehicles out there with us. As we neared the intersection that would that us out to our paved destination we spotted a stopped van. At the same moment Jennifer spotted a black bear in the road in front of the van. It was rather thin and gangly in appearance though. Not the robust hardy sort we might encounter occasionally back home. We guessed it to be rather young . We watched it for some time as it foraged along the road. We wondered if people had left food or something for it. Illegal in New York State most definitely. It obviously had a large sanctuary to roam in this huge refuge that’s for sure. We continued our travels leaving the bear to his(her) snacking and felt grateful to have seen it. The traffic picked up as we neared the coast and we crossed a large bridge with beautiful coastal scenery in all directions. We stopped at the Roanoke Island Visitor Center for a brief break gathering brochures and maps of the OBX. The staff were friendly and knowledgeable! I mentioned driving up to see the wild horses of Corolla and they offered sage advice. The highways of the OBX were busy and brisk as people were moving about on the Memorial Day weekend. We found our Airbnb easily with the truck’s navigation system. Paired with Jennifer’s phone travel was rather simple with few complications. Jennifer is a first rate navigator always! Her planning and attention to details is unmatched in my opinion. I drive and she navigates. Perfect!Our cozy Airbnb was tucked away in a residential section of Kill Devil Hills. The owner stepped out and exchanged greetings with us. I asked about the wild horses and he offered tips for driving the 4wd drive stretches of beach where we might encounter them. “Deflate your tires or you may get stuck” was his final tidbit of advice. One I chose to ignore despite the signs along the route recommending it. My 2021 F-150 has a special transmission setting for sand and deep snow. I chose to test it out although honestly I was a little anxious about my decision to not deflate. We followed the signs that were bringing us closer to Corolla where the pavement ends and the sandy driving beaches begin. We liked the small town of Duck with its abundance of shops and restaurants. There is little undeveloped land however with beach houses, motels, and gated communities covering the landscape. The roads were packed with vehicles and travel was slow but steady. A driver must remain ever vigilant here. We reached the point of no return and engaged the 4wd and transmission setting. Onto the land stretches of beach with a variety of other vehicles. Large groups of people were set up partying and enjoying the sun. It was a bit of a free for all atmosphere with T-charged young men racing through the deeper sections of sand with obvious abandon. It was rather thrilling actually and I took the truck right to the oceans edge and drove the smooth wet sand. Some sections next to the surf are off limits and we were forced into the deep dry sand for some bumpy 4wd fun! The truck handled well and my fears of being stuck left me. The wild horses were absent from the frantic human activities of the beaches. No surprise there. We spotted a couple of the wild horse tour trucks and decided to follow them. They lead us off the beach onto narrow sandy roads sprinkled with numerous beach houses. There were no signs for the most part and we continued to probe deeper. We began to spot piles of dry horse droppings but still no horses. We hit a couple of dead end streets where no trespassing signs warned us away and made for tricky turn arounds.We lost sight of the tour truck but eventually spotted two others back on the beach and gave chase. They once again led us from the beach and eventually our efforts paid off when Jennifer suddenly spotted a pair feeding on a lawn next to a beach house! We watched them for some time and resumed our search. We spotted a few near an inland canal but couldn’t get very close. But our persistence paid off and we encountered about a dozen or feeding right beside the road. They paid no attention to us and we actually had to get too close to them in the process of turning around. Mission accomplished! We tackled the deep sands of the beach and returned to the paved roads of civilization. We found a crowded restaurant and enjoyed some yummy Mahi Mahi tacos.It was almost chilly sitting outside but we enjoyed our meal away from the crowded interior. We stopped at an abandoned real estate office parking lot and watched the sunset. Beautiful and red. The perfect way to end our day of adventures. Safely tucked into our rooms we studied the facts of the wild horses of the OBX. Descendants of Spanish mustangs they once numbered 5000 -6000 in a survey conducted in 1926. They now number a mere 100 -110. It seems they were a nuisance and considered feral by the National Park Service as the Cape Hatteras park was created. A bounty was placed on them and they were destroyed. Now controlled and monitored closely they live in a roughly 7544 acre compound of public and private lands. Reading of their demise was disturbing and sad for us. Human sprawl and development. The need for space.Something as tourists we were part of to some degree. One can only imagine what this landscape offered once. But we felt privileged to have gazed upon them and watched their carefree roaming. They are said to cover roughly 15-20 miles per day sometimes grazing on their specialized diets. We hope to return and view them again sometime. Our final day on the OBX was a busy one! We hit a local donut shop called Duck Donuts for yummy breakfast treats. We toured the town of Roanoke on a leisurely and relaxing stroll. Stopping to tour the lighthouse and gain some historical knowledge of the location. Our next stop was incredible! The dunes of Jockey’s Ridge State Park. Free and open to the public. The highest dune complex on the East coast. Truly remarkable in its vastness. It’s a bit tiring walking in the deep sand and made for some comical moments. Those times when Jennifer and I checkout. Living and laughing in the now. Free and unencumbered by anything. The dunes are a must see if you are in the OBX. Our next stop was the eastern side of Kill Devil Hills where we strolled the beach enjoying the surf and gathering seashells. Later we experienced a wonderful dining experience outside at the Blue Point Restaurant in Duck. I highly recommend it! We returned to the dunes of Jockey’s Ridge to watch the sun set on our day. We rose early and headed out to a local breakfast shop called Biscuits and Porn. No clue there as to the name but it was worth our time stopping. So we left the OBX with special MOONTABS and know we will return again. After all, we barely scratched the surface of all that awaits a visitor. But that’s the magic of travel and adventure for those who crave it. The sun sets for us in new and exciting locations. I chase those sunsets with my lovely companion and enjoy a most special life with her. It is but the beginning of a much larger story I pray. For blessings are mine and I humbly acknowledge them. To share our story and all we learn.Dollars well invested in life and experiences. That’s the message. Wander wisely and reap the rewards. The Great Wander looms with hopeful imagination. It’s always been a dream of mine. To see what lies over the next hill. I’ll try to tell the story well.

Of Highways,Hikes,Hills,and History: Part 2

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Wow! I really took you off my intended path yesterday! I’m worried now that there’s some lost readers in the forests of the Taz Grand Wilderness in need of rescuing! Maybe they will chose to hide and never be seen again rather than being rescued. Who knows?I think I’ll blame Jennifer’s daughter. She may not read the post tonight. She introduced me to some coffee pods called “Electric Buzz”. Are you getting the picture? Me. Nicknamed Taz. Busy gulping maple syrup infused coffee called Electric Buzz while tapping out a blog post?Questionable and possibly a dangerous combination! Today’s coffee spin wore off hours ago so I think I can get you back on the path of Saturday’s interesting adventure. I left you on the Low’s Lower Dam headed to the trailhead. I’ve known about this trail that leads to a pond on the other side of the dam for many years. I always intended to hike it someday but never bothered to take the time or research the pond itself. It’s actually a lake I recently discovered called Big Trout Lake. One of some size in fact. It’s also been called Big Trout Pond as well. Sometimes simply Trout Pond. Jennifer recently bought us the book titled:Hiking The Trail To Yesterday Volume 2 by William C. Hill. We enjoy reading volume 1 by the same author so she purchased volume 2 without question. He’s an author from the Edwards,N.Y. area and injects his stories of trail wanderings with fascinating history. Once I read his description of the trail to Big Trout Lake and what we’d find there I was hooked! The factional information that I am going to share mostly goes to his credit alone. It comes from his research of the Low’s Dynasty as it’s known.I was very familiar with the story of A.A.Low and his Adirondack enterprises. He dammed the Bog River in two locations, generated electricity,built camps, ran a large maple syrup business, and built a rather impressive list of other accomplishments. In time his family liquidated his holdings and the state of N.Y. purchased much of the land. The two dams remain. The lower one the subject of my post and the upper one upstream that holds back the water of Low’s Lake. As I previously mentioned it’s a favorite paddling destination of ours. Beautiful and wild with nature reclaiming the ruins of A.A.Lows empire. I never knew until recently however that the Big Trout Lake area had been part of that empire. Knowing that there were historical ruins to explore proved too much for my curiosity. I felt that a hike back to the lake was in order regardless of any trail conditions we might encounter. Mud season can be tricky but it’s been a fairly dry spring so I hoped the trail would be fine. Here’s the part that might confuse you however. I had only gleaned through the book without making field notes or bothering to consult a map. I left the book home and didn’t bother to read it again before deciding on the hike as a destination. It’s that thrill factor that some explorers crave. I am not immune to seeking thrills. It gets people into trouble sometimes usually because they fail to prepare properly. We didn’t fit that mold Saturday. There’s no mileage sign at the trailhead like some areas of the Adirondacks. Just a wide well trodden path leading up a small grade. Off we set! The trail traveled through a mixed forest of maples, birch, balsam, and spruce. The occasional hemlock graced the forest as did a few white pines but the deciduous trees dominated most of forest. The leaves are just now forming and the woods have an open feel. In shaded groves patches of recent snow lingered but was disappearing fast as the warm sunny day gained heat. There were only a few flies here and there to annoy us as well. The trail continued to rise in elevation and was pleasantly dry most of the time. This changed however in one section and we rock hopped across small cobble stones or sometimes even left the trail . The brown layers of last seasons leaves crunching under our feet were flattened by the winter’s snowfall. Their fragrance earthy and organic to match their plain coloring as they begin to return to the earth. Jennifer and Garrett stopped frequently at points of interest along the trail. There were funky shaped trees covered with many different species of decomposer fungi. Rocks,burls,and a large erratic boulder that I felt compelled to climb. I grew very warm after and needed to shed a layer. Stowed into the day pack after a few sips of water during the break. The trail continued to rise slightly but a break in the trees told me that the land was about to fall away. I figured the lake would greet us as we summited the small ridge but there was only a forested valley below. My companions looked at me for guidance as to the lake’s location but I had nothing to reassure them about the amount of distance remaining. A quick glance at my phone for the time prompted me to make a decision. I decided to leave Jennifer and Garrett behind while I ran ahead to see if I could find the lake. I feared they might wish to turn back if I couldn’t give them tangible evidence of the lakes’s location. The trail turned left in a long sweeping descent of the ridge. Very dry and smooth it was great for a forest jog. I covered some ground quickly and soon reached a place where the trail began to descend rather quickly. I still couldn’t see any lake! I stopped for a moment to catch my breath and decided to ascend another ridge that was directly beside me. It was the highest ground around and with the absence of leaves would give me an extremely good vantage point. I reached its small summit looking East over the much lower ground. Nothing! No lake! I turned 180 degrees scanning the forest for the lake. At first I saw nothing then suddenly it appeared on the far horizon. Water of some magnitude. It had to be the lake! Words can fail to describe the sudden rush I felt. It’s that moment the explorer chases with a tenacious attitude and resolve. It was that moment of seeing something for the first time and the buzz that follows. It reminded me of a pair of beautiful green eyes that had held my gaze some time ago for the first time. Intriguing and deep with mystery. Exploration of another kind had ensued. The brain would buzz and the heart would stir. Very soon the lips would fail to remain silent and utter simple words filled with all a heart might contain or ever hope to contain. There lies that place of peace that beckons through the trees. The sun disappeared behind a cloud and a sudden chill brought me back from my romantic muses. I quickly gauged the distance to the lake and raced back to Jennifer and Garrett. Pleaded the case for continuing the hike as we were painfully close now. They agreed and we continued on with a renewed sense of vigor. The trail remained dry as we continued our descent to the lake. It became more visible through the forest. I suddenly noticed something off to the side in a stand of white pine. A folding camp chair on a primitive camp site below us.A closer investigation revealed old concrete piers also. This had been the location of a cabin or some structure. Some old car parts littered the ground as well. Rusty and unidentifiable. We continued on towards the lake and encountered additional concrete piers. There was a more intact foundation with more loose metal debris scattered about. An old hubcap. A rusty bed frame. Misc. leavings that you’d expect around an old building site. The lake was close now and wind tossed waves slapped the somewhat low shoreline. Floating logs were washed up and pinned into the shallow sandy bottom. The lake surface rolled with small white caps and the far end looked to be close to a mile in the distance. 157 acres of lake I later read. We scouted a small waterfall coming off the ridge. I searched for more building sites but found only a second primitive camp site and a well hidden canoe. I’d later learn that there were once 19 buildings at the end of the lake. Their remains are in a somewhat swampy section that we didn’t scout. It was time to head out and I really didn’t want to leave the peaceful lake setting. We had it all to ourselves. On the descent to the lake I had noticed what I suspected had been another road. I followed it’s downward curve and suddenly spotted an old vehicle! It’s worthy of its own post once I research its timeline. The remainder of our trip out was uneventful but pleasant. My mind full of questions and happy thoughts. I heard the most wonderful sound suddenly. Laughter in the sunny forest. The sound of a happy ADK Girl lost in the moment in this beautiful,pristine place. I offer these memories to you. These MOONTABS and all they truly mean. These are the finest moments one could possibly experience. We came to find a lake. I found so much more. I dedicate this post to Jennifer and Garrett for placing their trust in me once again. For going the distance. Over 15 thousand steps give or take a few. I will be back with Zane to find the ruins we missed. Another story for another day.

Of Highways,Hikes,Hills,and History: Part 1

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Friday’s post was a little cloudy and saturated with emotion. I sprinkled you with emotional rain. I hope I didn’t leave you badly soaked! Perhaps today’s post will dry you out! I received several positive comments and one thank you after posting Stalled Out. That’s perfect! I wrote it for one. I wrote it for everyone. Nature teaches us that life can be difficult and heartbreaking. But also joyful and full of hope. Things occur quickly and without warning. Change is a constant of our lives. We must adapt to survive. It’s nothing new or some sudden revelation. It’s a fascinating study of mine. How life has evolved and flourished on our tiny planet. The balance of nature and steady cycle of season. Death and new life. We as modern humans still exist in a struggle of survival. It’s all about love and passion. Dreams and strength. Enough said. I followed through on my message Friday. I headed out with simple goals and a few tasks to complete. I picked Jennifer up at her house. Grabbed the dogs and we headed off to purchase ourselves some badly needed hiking boots. My trusted Merrill’s had logged many muddy Adirondack miles and were ready for honorable retirement. I keep them until there’s nothing left using them around the farm. Jennifer and I enjoyed a simple lunch in Malone. Frozen dog treats for Stella and Max!Yum!We then proceeded up through the Owl’s Head area. I like this part of the Adirondacks so feature it sometime as a travel destination for curious explorers. The remainder of our day was spent traveling around the Adirondacks. A quick stop at the Meacham Lake State Campground for awhile where we enjoyed a quiet abandoned setting. It was one of those carefree days Jennifer and I often enjoy. The road. The Adirondacks. A stop and go joy ride. Turn here! Wait! I just saw something. Go back! A real estate cruise through Saranac Lake then Tupper Lake. Conversations and the sometimes heavy topics that need to be shared with each other. The movement of the vehicle and rhythm of the singing tires frees them at times. The day follows the movement of the sun as do the subjects. The need to stem my steady flow of words and listen closely. Or just enjoy a comfortable silence together. Jennifer might say there’s rarely a comfortable silence around me! I probably shouldn’t drink coffee! She didn’t give me the nickname Taz without a reason! I create an energetic spin that’s a little too intense sometimes. Not always a blessing but it gets us into some interesting situations! Our day closed with a walk through the Higley Flow State Campground. Why all the exploring of campgrounds? Four reasons. Number one: scouting possible camping destinations. Number two: off season means minimal people. Number three: choosing to hike hard durable surfaces during the mud season. Number four: beautiful destinations that are easily reached. If I had to summarize Friday for myself I’d say objectives accomplished! The stalled out attitude gone and the tank was filling with enthusiastic energy. A good rest Friday night would usher in a coffee fueled morning for me. I exited Jennifer’s house while she woke up hoping to spare her from Taz energy for a bit as I tackled some lawn work and played ball with the dogs. The sun rose and the promise of the day showed itself as we completed our short list of tasks. We grabbed Jennifer’s nephew Garrett and headed out with two excited dogs pointed towards the Adirondacks. I had chosen our destination with a gambler’s decision to throw it all on the table as our day would be decided by it.The sun was warm and inviting on our drive as I divulged all that I knew about our hiking location and what we might encounter there. I hadn’t done a lot of research deliberately as I don’t always wish to dissect an adventure with every last detail. I like the buzz of the unknown. My companions asked about the mileage and trail conditions but I had few answers for them. I simply said that I felt it was well within our abilities with our daylight safety margin acknowledged. Zane and I had managed to safely complete our ADK 46 High Peaks quest in September of 2020 learning many things while experiencing those adventures! I was comfortable yesterday with my companions preparedness and abilities. I had chosen the Bog River area near Tupper Lake as we were all familiar with the location. We were forced to park at the locked gate near the access road to the Low’s Lower dam. It’s off bumpy Route 421 alongside Horseshoe Lake.The Low’s Lower Dam site is a favorite paddling destination of ours and is featured in an earlier blog post of mine. The locked gate meant that we would need to walk further to reach the trailhead I sought. It added .75 miles to our hike I later learned. But I felt we needed to complete this hike before black fly season hit in May. Last year our paddle up the flow in mid-May found us under the constant onslaught of biting black flies!Yuck!My reasons for choosing this destination were two fold. A double dip exploration and research outing. I had recently read a DEC notification about the lowering of the water behind the dam to complete necessary repairs for a breach of some sort. Having paddled it so many times in the past I was curious to see what it would look like with less water. Jennifer was interested in this as well as she loves our paddle outings up to Hitchin’s Pond and the upper dam. So the hike would also serve as a scouting mission for a future paddle sometime this year.Jennifer suggested we eat our lunch before heading out on our adventure. We basked bug free on some boulders in the sun while the dogs frolicked and enjoyed their snacks. There’d be less to carry and we would be well fortified prior to walking.We packed waters and some chocolate. We were dressed in season appropriate layers. We were ready!The gravel road beyond the locked gate was dry and easy walking. The scent of balsam teased our nostrils and never fails to draw me into the moment. We could hear the roar of spillway long before we reached the dam. Not before I heard a drumming ruffed grouse however. A sure sign of spring! The DEC had started their work and we found the water level about three feet lower than normal as we approached the dam. We spotted some paddlers up the flow and were reassured that a paddle could still occur at a later date if we desired. I remarked to Jennifer that I am going to need to make the paddle and see what’s become of our beaver friends up there. Just how will they react to the dropping water level? Will they suddenly feel the need to dam the river in a location that’s always been deep with no need for dams? But that is another story and I have no answers yet. Jennifer and I share a special connection to these beaver and this beautiful place. We made wonderful memories here together. As solid as the dam that hold the water back. Ours forever now. The writer in me holds these memories in my heart and in time I will open the gates and release them downstream as stories. The water isn’t meant to stay in one location nor can the dam hold it all back. The water flows with powerful energy and if I am the dam do I need repairing so the sanctuary can remain? Much like the dam I age. The flowing waters of gathered years erode and threaten my strength.It’s a perplexing thought and floats me far from my intended message. A side tributary of the original story that enters behind the dam. One which provides a calm and safe refuge against what could otherwise be a raging set of falls. The pond is deep but never meant to be frozen solid and trapped in eternal silence. The real story of yesterday’s adventure must wait until tomorrow. I’ve simply led you down the gravel road to the dam. I humbly ask you to stand there a moment and get lost in the roar while you search for the rainbows in the spillway spray. The path waits for you on the other side. But you must cross the dam first to see it. This new day can’t wait and tasks must be tackled before the setting sun drops in the west. Part two of this story lives in MOONTABS already secured. The dam will hold it back only briefly. That is the nature of flowing water and flowing words.

Ice Age:Part 2

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The second part of our ice climbing adventure involved some travel time. Chad decided the temperatures were decent enough for us to climb in the Cascade Pass. Situated between Lake Placid and Keene its high rocky cliffs offer some great ice climbs. Parking is limited in this area but we managed to squeeze in just off the somewhat busy highway.There was a well trodden trail leading up to the series of ice falls. Two other climbers were busy preparing to ascend a rather steep looking climb. Chad chose a smaller nearby ice climb that had seen quite a bit of activity based on the packed down snow at the base of it.He instructed us to get our crampons attached to our boots while he prepared the climbing rope.To get the dynamic rope attached to a fix anchor at the top of the ice fall he’d need to free climb his way up while one of us belayed the rope out. Once he reached the top and secured the fixed anchor we could safely belay him down. Chad gave us another knot tying lesson before he started up. We buddy checked his double figure eight knot on his harness and he checked the ice belay device on my harness. Always ensuring that the carabiner is locked. He then asked me to demonstrate the proper technique for belaying the rope and braking it. His safe descent would be trusted to my attention to detail as the belayer. He decided all was well and waited for my “ on belay” command before starting up the ice. The ice was a NEI grade 3. The New England Ice grades run up to a high of grade 6 plus. Grade 3 is considered moderately difficult and would provide an excellent training location for Zane and I. Chad easily made the climb up to the top. Apparently there was already an adequate fixed anchoring point in place that was sufficient. Chad then hollered down to see if I was ready to “ weight” the rope before beginning his controlled descent. Weighting the rope allows for the stretch and is a necessary part of a safe descent. Chad made it to the bottom with no issues. Mission accomplished! Teamwork and trust are key in this sport. Our dynamic rope was in place and we were ready to begin the next portion of our training. All climbers on the ice face would always be on belay. Chad gave us instructions for climbing properly. Set the ice axes into the face. Tap,Tap to set crampons while engaging in a type of squat move. Then standing up while arching the back. He made it look easy!Our turn! Zane started first and attacked the ice face with the determination of an enthusiastic teenager!Chad had me on the belay rope and I literally held my son’s safety in my hands. Chad stayed close to me and gave Zane tips.Zane continued his ascent never falling and eventually reached a point where Chad instructed him to stop.It was a slow process and took some obvious strength to accomplish. Now the scary part! Weighting the rope! That moment where the climber puts it all on the line!Trusting the system! The equipment and his belayer! It’s a difficult moment! To stand and lean back as you weight the rope! It’s not a natural situation! We tend to want to clutch the wall not lean back into unknown air space! But it’s necessary! Zane did well and made a safe descent! Good so far! Now my turn! I charged the ice face like a fool. Wasting energy and burying my ice axes deeper than necessary.Mastering the squat crampon set was tricky. I wanted to lean towards the wall. Bad idea! It forces your crampons to pop out! I’d be forced to cling tightly to my ice axes as I lost my foot holds. I struggled my way up despite my ineptitude. I crawled over one shelf in desperation and stubbornness. But I made it to the stopping point!Now here’s where it got a little difficult! I was instructed to weight the rope. Lean back he says! Yeah right! I’m scared to do that! I try! Then a bad move on my part! I grab the rope despite the fact that I am holding a sharp ice axe in each hand! Stupid I found out! I lost my footing. Dropped down. I weighted the rope like a spinning top! Chad yelled up to me! Don’t do that again! Trust the system! I eventually made it down but not like he instructed. We laughed as I reached the bottom! Epic fail but still ok!Chad gave another demonstration. Zane ascended again and made it too the very top. A good descent for him again.He was learning fast!My turn. I did somewhat better. Still wasted a lot of energy but made it to the bulge just before the top. I hesitated. I thought about quitting the ascent as a sudden fear settled over me.Zane had made it up over so I decided that I needed to as well! Trust the system they say right?Here I go! Clawing and fighting my way up! Crawling and doing whatever I could to stick the face. I made it! But… oh no! I am way up and now must descend! Chad hollered up! Trust the system! Do not grab the rope! We have you! I must say it’s very difficult to lean back into space! But I suddenly felt that old reckless feeling that sometimes hasn’t ended well for me! I weighted the rope! The stretch was frightening. I tried to follow Chad’s commands. At the bottom relief! He said that I had done much better but still needed improvement. We got to telling stories and laughing again! Chad is a cool guy!A wealth of information and experience! I asked him many questions and he always had the answers. More lessons would follow. We learned how to set ice anchors.Use various slings. Worked on our knot tying. We took a quick break for lunch. High energy bars and beef jerky for us. Trail mix for him. We cooled off quickly and it began to snow. Chad moved us to a second ice face and our climbs resumed. We began to master the squat and totally trust the system. I learned to conquer my fears at the top and began to get closer to proper descents. Zane continued to do well but I could tell the exertion was taking it’s toll. I felt it as well! Zane and I both decided that we no longer wished to belay each other. We turned our trust over to Chad. On my two final descents I decided to swing around some. Very fun and exciting! Chad complemented my trust in the system! It had taken some nerve! We finished our day with a drill Chad decided we needed. He still felt that we didn’t trust or use our crampons properly. Easy to remedy! He forced us to climb using only one ice axe! That totally forced us to climb better! We needed to set our crampons properly or fail to ascend.He didn’t send us up as far. It was an invaluable lesson! One I left with for future reference. The day was over! The wind driven snow had increased. We were shot but pumped up with adrenaline! We had done it! Safely and leaving the ledges intact! Chad had done an excellent job! We said our thanks and told him we would return again! But we would need him to be our guide! There’s a certain fear inherent in ice climbing. It’s also got a certain thrill. That place where I feel strong and confident as the years have aged me to a certain point. I chose to try this unknown sport and bring my only son into it. I question my wisdom sometimes. Do I risk his future getting him involved in extreme sports? Or do I make him well rounded? We left the ice face with new skills and a greater appreciation of winter’s power. The ice is beautiful and enchanting in some dangerous attraction of unknown intensity.Where this relationship goes is an unknown. I know I will need to become stronger and more fit before our next ice climbing adventure. Perhaps that’s a plus! All I know is this… we will never be the same ever again. Nor will we drive through the beautiful Cascade Pass as the same individuals ever again. We left a part of our spirits there on those frozen faces that will disappear with the warm breath of spring winds. The ice will return in a magical transformation of Adirondack season. That is inevitable. The question is will we return? Time will tell and so will I! “Good climbing”!

Ice Age:Part 1

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Mid February approaches here in northern New York and we are surrounded by ice. Frozen streams,rivers, swamps,ponds, and lakes.Driveways and parking lots. Icicles hanging from house eaves as the sun melts rooftop snow accumulations.Ice is powerful. Cracking concrete and road surfaces.It transforms shorelines as water levels change throughout the winter. It coats highways with an almost invisible layer sometimes that we call “black ice”. Dangerous and unpredictable for drivers. Residents of northern climes have learned to dread the occasional winter ice storms. Freezing rain wreaks havoc on trees and electric power grids.Residents here remember the major ice storm of 1998. It crippled this area for weeks. I also remember a less severe one in 1991 that caused a power outage for several days. It would seem that ice is a detrimental part of living in this area. True to an extent when it disrupts our daily routines. However the annual formation of winter ice can be an outdoor enthusiast’s source of joy! Ice fishing is a favorite pastime of ours. We venture out preferably once it reaches a thickness of 6 inches or greater. It’s a subject worthy of a future post! Winter ice also provides for some great hiking opportunities. Snowshoes,skis,or just plain walking. Traveling ice enables a person to access areas that prove difficult in the warmer months. Safety is imperative always!Along the rocky cliffs of the Beaver Creek gorge ice takes on a new meaning. Huge icicles and ice falls form as winter progresses each season. Beautiful in color and detail. Hiking to view them is an annual event. I never really thought much about climbing too high on them although we have donned spikes and captured some awesome photos under them! It wasn’t until December 2020 while on an Adirondack holiday with Jennifer that I would suddenly be inspired to even consider the sport of ice climbing!We were browsing a store in the Keene Valley called The Mountaineer when it happened. One section is dedicated to climbing gear. Photos of climbers decorate the walls above a wide selection of items that were foreign to me. I found the gear interesting and intriguing.We browsed our way up to the second floor where there were even more photos of happy climbers grinning with obvious pride of accomplishment! I suppose some would call it an epiphany. I suddenly was struck with an intense curiosity! What did it take to be a climber? Rock climbing never struck me as a hobby that I would pursue even though I love high places. But ice? Hmm…. what if? I asked a clerk about renting gear and how did an individual break into the sport of ice climbing?I learned that a guide could be hired for an introductory training session. I consulted Jennifer. A Xmas gift for Zane? For us to try together? I wondered if I was even fit enough or had the nerve to try it in the first place. I left with the information to enroll in a class in January if I decided to sign up. I wasn’t even sure if Zane was interested so later that evening I decided to flat out ask him. Yes, it spoiled the element of surprise but this was no ordinary adventure! He seemed receptive and interested so the next day I got us signed up for a January date. So began the process of booking a room and making preparations. It was settled to a degree. Xmas was past and our date was fast approaching when we decided to expand our adventure to include volunteer work working on the Saranac Lake Winter Carnival Ice Palace project. But nature is fickle sometimes. I was packing the car for our adventures when the call came in from The Mountaineer. Subzero temperatures were forecast forcing a cancellation. Unsafe and ill advised to ice climb. They were cancelling all weekend excursions for safety.I was directed to call a local guide service for a possible rebooking.It was at this moment that I was introduced to Adirondack Rock and River Guide. The owner and founder “Ed” took my call. In business since 1988 he had lots of questions about our expectations for an adventure. He recommended we book out a week and hire one of his guides to train us for our ice climbing outing. All equipment would be provided, training,and a custom climb would be tailored to ensure a safe trip.It was on again!Booked and on the calendar. Jennifer mentioned to me that Adirondack Rock and River also had lodging and other activities.But finding rooms on short notice is sometimes difficult during the busy Adirondack winter season. We settled for a motel in nearby Wilmington after traveling up Saturday afternoon. I wanted us fresh and ready Sunday morning for our big day! Zane loves getting away and spending time together for a night regardless of our destination. We enjoy our conversation time, meals, and hunkering down in a cozy, warm room. Sunday morning the temperature hovered around 0 degrees but the daytime temperature was forecast for about 20 degrees. We arrived at Adirondack Rock and River early to find Ed shoveling some snow around the walkways between the various buildings. He commented that we were way too early but invited us to tour the lodge that was unoccupied. He gave us some further instructions while we bantered back and forth for a time. We gathered some history on each other then he returned to his shoveling. I thought it was cool that he as the owner shoveled snow!To not describe the quiet beauty of the location would fail to properly tell the story of our day! The complex is located at the very end of Alstead Hill Road just outside of Keene, N.Y. A flat location with mountains surrounding it in all directions.The Jackrabbit Ski Trail connects to one of the parking sections. A popular destination of cross country skiers and hikers this trail network provides a long connecting route to several local villages. The complex consists of three structures and a couple wood shed type buildings. There’s the main house and the two separate lodges. The stone fireplace in the Climbers Lodge is easily the largest that I have ever seen!We were outside enjoying the scenery when our guide pulled in promptly at 8:30. He hopped out of his truck and introduced himself as Chad. He was not a huge fellow but super lean and strong looking. Obviously fit. I guessed his age at 30 something but later learned he was 47! I liked him immediately.His calm demeanor and casual questions about our expectations for the day quickly squashed my coffee fueled anxiety. A veteran ice climber of 20 plus years he assured us we would enjoy the day. We headed into the lower level of the Guide’s lodge to be fitted for gear, sign paperwork, and have our personal gear inspected. Pictures of ice and rock climbers adorn the walls with an assortment of antique climbing gear filling in the gaps. Chad continued his questions. “ Do you want to spend 2 hours of your day in here learning about equipment or get out there and learn at the base of the ice falls?” He asked. He seemed pleased when we said let’s get right to it! I honestly told him we weren’t even sure we could do it or even wish to return. So began our formal education of being safely fitted with equipment.New words and terms to learn. It was exciting and interesting!Zane asked me if I was nervous when Chad left the room to grab some gear. “ Yes! I am! You?” I replied! He admitted he was nervous too! I simply stated that we needed to listen and follow all the instructions. Chad returned and the fitting began. Step one: ice climbing boots. Double type recommended for warmth. Some ice climbers prefer single boots but sacrifice some warmth for mobility. Step two: crampons. Fitted and adjusted to boot size. Sharp spikes front and bottom. Step three: helmets. Similar to a hard hat but with a lower profile. Step four: VIP! a harness. Proper fit is crucial!Chad took extra time with this step with good reason we’d later learn. Step five : an ice belay on a locking carabiner. Then the ropes used for climbing. Also crucial! We’d rely on one primarily. Color coded and labeled,we’d learn to recognize it as a “dynamic” rope. It’s composition allows a 7% stretch. So for a 100 ft extension it will stretch 7 ft! A safety consideration on the ice face. Super strong and inspected each time it’s used. We also took a “static line” rope. No stretch and used as a special purpose backup. Chad also carried a variety of carabiners, slings, and items that we couldn’t even identify at that moment. Ice climbing is considered an “extreme” sport. Dangerous if not equipped properly. Dangerous if attempting without proper training. Hiring a licensed guide is the best approach. We purchased a package deal with equipment provided as well as the guide.SAFETY,SAFETY,SAFETY!!! I brought us there for fun not a tragic experience!Sure there’s some risk but minimal when all risks are factored as possibilities. Next a lesson in proper knots and tying them. A little intimidating at first but Chad gave us “ crutches” to help us remember them!We learned the “figure 8 and double figure 8”. All important and always buddy checked! Our crash course lasted about an hour and Chad deemed us fitted and ready to roll! I will end part 1 here! The actual climbing adventure deserves its own story now that you know the basics! Did you learn anything?🤔

Not Castle!Palace!

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I’ve always had a fascination with ice! That should come as no surprise as I have lived my entire life here in the Macomb/Hammond,New York area. We experience the full benefits of four seasons of change. Winter brings its share of snow and ice each year. I mentioned it recently in a post. My father remembered a time when ice was harvested for storage. He spoke of it occasionally. There would come a time each winter when the ice of ponds and lakes would reach the desired thickness to harvest. People constructed ice houses where the harvested blocks would be stacked in layers using saw dust to insulate the thermal mass. It was then used during the warmer months in ice boxes as refrigerators and electricity had not become commonplace. We as modern people do not fully appreciate all our ancestors endured as part of their daily routines. It’s a subject worthy of a blog story. Today I tell a different story. Our lives take many turns and sometimes where we find ourselves can be the cause of some serious reflection. Prior to yesterday I had nothing but some rudimentary knowledge of ice harvesting. My father had once pointed out to me a location on Beaver Creek near Dekalb where some Amish were harvesting ice. It’s not very common here in the St. Law. Valley anymore. Fast forward many years.Winter 2019. My girlfriend Jennifer took me to the Saranac Lake Winter Carnival for the first time! Very fun! A parade,food,drinking,and dancing in the local bars. A room at the renovated Hotel Saranac. “Hot Sara” to the locals in reference to some burned out neon lights on it’s roof prior to the renovation.We went cross country skiing at nearby Cascade Ski Center as well. But it was on a walk to the shores of Lake Flower that this story truly began. One that is forged by my fascination with ice! For someone who had lived so long in the north country, I had never spent much time in the Adirondacks during the winter months. A little snowmobiling years ago but that’s about it. It was Jennifer who would introduce me to a walk through an ice palace for the first time! We bundled up and strolled through the ice palace.Took photos and enjoyed the moment! We were talking to a local gentleman when I used the term “ ice castle”.He corrected me immediately! “It’s not called a castle! It’s called a palace!” I was a little taken back as it appeared that I had offended this man! Some research has uncovered that at one point it was referred to as a fortress as well as a palace. Further research has uncovered the origins of the Winter Carnival and some history of ice palace construction. An interesting story of human endeavor and love of community. It dates back to 1896. The first palace was constructed in 1898. The ice palace construction was put out to bid each year to local ice harvesting contractors.It hasn’t been constructed every year since the carnival began I also learned. There are gaps in the timeline. But it’s been a yearly fixture since around the 1950’s. During World War 1,the Great Depression,and World War 2 construction didn’t occur at all. After 1960 the project became a volunteer effort due to cost constraints.This is a point where I think the story truly becomes even more remarkable! That place where local colleges,businesses,and dedicated individuals work together for a huge undertaking!My timeline of Adirondack adventure began to spike in 2018 when Zane and I pursued our high peaks quest in earnest. How ironic I’d meet Jennifer that October. The Adirondacks are a favorite destination of hers! Things began to ramp up! Standing under the sturdy walls of the ice palace in 2019 I began to grow curious about its construction. After spending over 35 years working construction I could appreciate the work that had occurred to construct it. I told Jennifer that one day I’d love to volunteer for the build!January 2020 would find both of us missing Winter Carnival due to surgery recoveries. Then the bad news in autumn 2020 that Winter Carnival would be modified due to the pandemic. The good news was that the palace construction would occur! Volunteers were needed!While staying at a Saranac Airbnb on a work adventure, I got some great intel from the owners. I was added to the volunteer email list and waited for our possible chance to get involved. We followed the weather and progression of the formation of the ice. The construction start date was January 28th we learned. We were unable to volunteer until January 30th. We’d miss some of the build!Cutting ice was the draw for me! Twenty something years ago I had purchased an ice saw from a local junker. I didn’t even know what it’s purpose was until he told me. I just knew I had to have it! I asked him how much to purchase it. I held my breath as I waited for his reply. $30 he said. Sold! I didn’t know if I had gotten a good deal or not but my prize was worth all that to me! It’s the curse of a hoarder, junker! When a piece “speaks” to me I must try to leave with it! Often taken home and stored for some uncertain purpose. I really didn’t think I would ever wish to cut ice but it could make a nice rustic wall piece. Heavy though and super sharp!The ice saw was hanging in my garage in 2012 when the house fire engulfed it. The firemen were able to extinguish the garage fire but it was a total loss. I scoured the charred walls trying to salvage things. I found my ice saw. Black and covered with a greasy ash film. The wooden handle badly burned with an outer layer of charcoal. But still ok it appeared. I gave it a simple cleaning and stuck it in the back of one of my barns. It has set there for over 8 years. I dragged it out last week. Took it home and wire brushed it back to bare metal. Sanded the charred handle and stained it. Built a simple transport guard. Got it packed into the car. Yesterday we were there on the shores of the lake ready to volunteer at 8am. Signed in and put to work. Given some basic training by the experienced volunteers. I asked if I could bring my saw to the ice field. Yes! It became that moment that a hoarder dreams of experiencing! That moment when your prize becomes something more! Would it even work properly? Too dull or ruined by the fire? No! Once I learned the trick of handling it I made cuts until my arms grew weary. The end of the ice field became a goal to reach. The harvest is a team effort. We were invited onto the ice as part of that team. Zane didn’t find the cutting all that interesting so found his niche with the spud crew. Three people striking in unison to free the 2×4 feet blocks out into the leading edge of the open ice field. We had been warned of potential shears from cracks and told what to do if one occurred. It happened suddenly with no warning! Zane was the closest to the open water of the now large float section. A couple yells were all I heard before I realized something was up! It was over quickly! I turned to see Zane and the other two guys leaping from a freed section of sheared ice to the safety of solid surfaces. Close call! Lots of nervous laughs after! A short pause then the return to our task. But I was on alert after that! But proud of Zane! He took his spot and returned to work like nothing had happened! We finished the cutting shortly after and put away the cutting equipment. My ice saw carried from the ice with a new found reverence. In a few short hours I had learned a new skill! As a lover of rural heritage I found positivity and connection to history under the cold but sunny skies of Saranac Lake. I have a connection to our lands in Macomb that time has forged with blood,sweat, and tears. It will never break for time lived there was the beginning of all I would become. Yet an inner voice calls me to the Adirondacks. To call it home for an unknown length of time. Yesterday was more than just hard work and volunteering. It represents something much larger. I must return soon and saw the ice once again before this opportunity falls behind. I can be quoted as saying that “ a person has a finite number of syrup seasons in their life! They should never be missed!”Perhaps it’s true of ice cutting and ice palace construction. We met some truly, great people yesterday!I got an interesting story from one fellow and made a new friend! The citizens of this community radiant warmth and positive energy. I know exactly what I will do when I return. I will stand at the end of the open waters of the ice field we have cleared and face the sun. Listen to the voice that continues to speak softly but louder with each passing season. I will listen for the answers out there. The slush makers who cement the ice palace together desire a certain blend. That perfect mix of snow and water. Life can be compared to that. Spirit energy fuels dreams. Lends strength to decisions. Those moments when you step out and explore. That place where history meets the present. A destination of now. Adventure keeps us young and growing. On the drive home yesterday I told Zane that I am regressing in mental age. Traveling backwards now to a place where we will meet. It’s the boy inside the man who whispers from that inner place. Home can be many places. My heart knows that the Adirondacks will be called home. The seasons of chance are meant to embrace .