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.
Category Archives: Adventures
Crazy Adventures
Glamping
I have spent many years camping since my early boyhood adventures shortly after we moved to the farm around 1970. My first campsites were primitive but carefully chosen for their rock formations or views. The locations scattered across the one hundred plus acre of the farm. Little or no evidence remains of those sites these days. Maybe a few fire circles crafted of gathered rocks that nature continues to reclaim with each passing year. Some day to transition back into their former state of wildness. They will only exist in the hazy depths of my memory. I show some of them to Zane on our many wanderings in Macomb. As a well seasoned camper since his earliest memories they hold little allure to him as actual camping destinations. He’s conditioned to mountains and waterways where more abundant activities abound. But as boy I didn’t have the benefits of those distant locations. My father wasn’t a camper but encouraged my love of it. None the less I enjoyed many adventures within walking distance. I learned to prepare and pack for an overnight trip where I would need to prepare dinner, build a fire, and try to escape the hordes of biting mosquitoes. My trusty basset hound Hush Puppy would often be my only companion although as I got older my friends began to join me. As for my shelters they varied from simple leanto structures constructed with an old canvas tarp and poles of wood to a small pup tent I got on my 12th birthday. 46 years later I still possess that tiny shelter of countless memories as only a hoarder type can enjoy. In time my wanderlust expanded and with a driver’s license,bigger tents, and added camping equipment the destinations crept out to new terrain. My friends joined in and we had some pretty crazy times out there. The tempting warm days of spring where mornings would cover the landscape with blankets of frost. Blistering hot summer nights where it was almost impossible to sleep with hundreds of buzzing mosquitoes attempted to breach the tent screen. Chilly fall storms and freezing temperatures would find us hunkered by the campfire. Offering silent prayers to the sky that morning would find us dry. But I remained ever passionate and true to my love of the outdoors. The wet gear was dried. Dirty clothes and bodies washed clean. The discomforts would be forgotten and the next adventure would take form in the mind.Many stories live within this story and probably should be written in time. Years passed and I became a more experienced and well traveled camper at any rate. It wasn’t until 2012 that I would enter the world of I call “glamping”. We purchased a used 19 ft travel trailer and a new truck for an extended road trip to Alaska. That too is a unique story. I took to the life of a camper traveler quite quickly actually. Not without a serious and stressful learning curve! I survived the trial and made the 4600 mile to Alaska safely with family intact. After a 2 week stay we made the decision to sell the trailer in Wasilla after our friend’s dad said he’d help us accomplish that objective. That would end my ownership of a travel trailer every since. But that brief life of adventure has never left my heart or my mind. It tugs like an invisible magnet and lifts my inner spirit. The road calls and many of my questions I offer into a sleepless night may be answered out there somewhere in those vast and wild expanses. It is my life long passion to wander and seek the unknown. That story is written in my short story “The Other Side of the Hill”. I have no reservations about placing it in my first book. It’s tied to everything. I wander far within this post itself and apologize for the length of it! But here I sit outside a rented travel trailer in the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York with a calm lake awaiting our paddles and sunny skies beckoning. What would you do?Sit and tap out a blog or take off? A day waits for us out and a new story waits as well. I am the happy camper once again. Or should I say Glamper? A little of both but I will explain that later. Sorry no time for edits! Teachers grab your red pens!
Gone Central:Part I
The weather Friday night at Camp Chaos was rather frightening at times! The wind shifted and driving rain pounded the cottage from the north for hours as the pellet stove rumbled it’s heat producing rhythm with a comfortable backdrop. I had a sudden realization about my dependency on its mechanical continuation and constant hunger for the pellets I load into the hopper once or twice a day. It numbers as one of my pieces of “tired iron” that I coax along with a practiced gentle hand. It’s fickle controls would madden the less inured perhaps but I never expected to need it daily as the first of May waits for me to turn the page of my kitchen calendar. Lake living has been interesting as the chilly weeks of April continued to slip past with the new routine dictated by the move from Hill House. Summer will come! We’ll add our memories of this unusual spring to our collection of MOONTABS and revel in the deeds of our ever changing now. It follows the motto we followed on our quest for the Adirondack 46 high peaks. “Never settle for the path of least resistance”. Zane likes lake living and the rough charms of its rustic interior. We have everything we need really and what we lack we tolerate with a stubborn mountain man mentality. My goals remain simple here but progress seems painfully slow at times. Camp Chaos will return to being Camp Edith at some point before summer. It’s easy to blame the weather for our moods and dips in positive energy. Quite honestly I know the blame is mine to own if I use the weather as an excuse to procrastinate and delay certain tasks. My lack of drive can simmer in my consciousness like a forgotten pan on the stove. Eventually it will boil over if left unattended and unstirred. The weather Friday was not conducive to outdoor task so I spent my time researching writing projects and tossing blog subjects around like a platter of chopped up soup ingredients that never actually ended up in the crock pot. They become a byproduct of potential creativity and are packaged for another time. Hopefully not frozen and forgotten in the back corner of the freezer. Unfortunately I fear some will never see the table in this ever changing now of circumstances. A late call from Jennifer Friday saying that it was snowing and accumulating quickly brought me to a startling conclusion about our as yet to be determined outing for the weekend. I slept fitfully as the rain/snow mix beat it’s drumbeat on the camp roof. Dawn arrived frigid but somewhat sunny and my determination to salvage the day was decided with some strong coffee laced with dark, robust maple syrup. Jennifer and I still had no definitive plans but I packed an overnight bag just to be prepared for what my mind was percolating into a potential adventure brew. I arrived at Jennifer’s to snow covered steps and lawn. She was dressed,waiting, and ready for suggestions for the day. I had a sudden impulse and recommended something we had discussed recently thinking that the warmer days of spring would find us. I suggested we take our chances on the road and head to the Old Forge area on a reconnoiter. I also suggested that we spend the night despite the chance of rain or any weather that we might encounter. She agreed immediately and without question headed off to pack while I played in the snow with the dogs. I quickly searched for an overnight accommodations and found most were unavailable.I sent out a request to book a hastily chosen cabin and we were off on our adventure! It was sunny and cool but I felt an inner warmth from our spontaneous decision. Warmed by the fact that we were off on a new adventure together. Modern technology has its moments and a chiming email rang in saying our booking was declined. Jennifer tackled this new dilemma and quickly found us another location. A booking request was quickly sent with no delay as I continued driving East towards the blue line of the Adirondacks. It’s strange to ponder our new age progression into cyberspace where you never actually speak to someone or actually pay them in person. It all occurs with tapping fingers and a super efficient exchange of codes and currency sent silently with practiced ease.We continued our journey and the booking confirmation arrived with a familiar comforting tone. We relaxed into the drive and offered thoughts on our potential outing once we arrived at our destination. Traffic was light as we entered the Adirondacks headed towards Sevey’s Corners on Route 56 and we enjoyed the scenery around us. I can’t say that this winding road is one of my favorites but I know it’s features well and enter the turns with confidence ever watchful for wild game. Turkeys are the biggest daytime threat typically but the occasional whitetail deer will surprise you at times. We traveled quickly and the towns of Piercefield and Tupper Lake fell behind us. We stopped for a small shopping spree at Hoss’s General Store in Long Lake. It’s an Adirondack browser’s mainstay of books,clothing , and gadgets. Refrigerator magnets in the candle section where balsam permeates the air and triggers the desire to hike in freshly snow soaked forests. We decided that we couldn’t leave the Long Lake area without a trip to Buttermilk Falls. We were not disappointed and it had warmed up nicely as we explored and took pictures. We found sunny spots and easily avoided the other spectators as we walked together. I began to truly enter that magical place of peace and blissful oblivion that the Adirondacks bring to me in the awakening of the five senses. The mysterious sixth sense followed as I took Jennifer’s hand and saw her smiling face light up. Her eyes alive with happiness and her laughter blending with the roaring water. She is truly the ADK Girl in this moment and I am happy with our decisions that led us to this place of powerful moving water. The cost of this moment had been almost free yet priceless in its gifts. These are the moments that dwell in so many of my words and deeds as we live out our daily existence. I chase them with Jennifer every chance I get. Zane as well but he doesn’t always get the chance to join us. They are the MOONTABS of our time together and forever ours to hold within our hearts. A bright star in the heavens to view with hopeful eyes when darkness overtakes us and guide us forward with positive energy. One that lifts the burdens of grief, challenge, and adversity. I moved closer to the rushing water and a gentle spray washed my heavy thoughts away. We left secure in the now and bonded in silent security. We share much but we respect the other’s silence of what was thrown into a set of falls each time we find ourselves next to them. We don’t always know exactly what troubles a person next to us at any given moment (if anything)but we can always offer a strong hand to grab if they need it. Or take their offered hand .We resumed our travels and soon reaching the Eighth Lake State Campgrounds. It was on our reconnoiter list in the central Adirondack region. We drove through the grounds and walked some as well. It’s a destination new to me and a possible summer camping location. The sun remained warm and inviting but the day was passing so we traveled onward to Old Forge to check into our Airbnb rental and stow our gear. Jennifer and I are similar in our mutual desire to familiarize ourselves with our accommodations well before dark if possible. It serves us well and we will usually discuss possible dinner options. It’s a planning thing and Jennifer is the mistress of preparations!No arguments need ensue there.We secured our bedtime destination and found ourselves with ample daylight remaining so we drove East from Old Forge towards Inlet to scout the Limekiln State Campgrounds. We had spent a wonderful series of camping days there in July 2019 and were hoping to book a site there this summer. I could write an entire blog post on the NYS campsite booking procedure as it has existed since last year but will simply say that’s it’s somewhat flawed at the moment. Limekiln is a lovely lake for paddling and exploring. They provide large metal “ bear boxes” for storing food and supplies at your campsite. Our day would wind down touring the campsite and taking notes. We are rather particular campers as we bring watercraft and like to launch from our campsite rather than engage in the continuous daily transport of them.We were disappointed to find the Screamen Eagle Pizzeria was closed in the hamlet of Inlet but got a good meal at Tony Harper’s in Old Forge. It’s a busy place on a Saturday night! You order your drinks and food at the bar,pay, and are given a number to place on your table. A server brings your meal and attends to you after that. It works and the food was good but it was rather loud. Prior to his death in 1972 Tony Harper rented camps in Racquette Lake and had a home in a roadside building. A family who had rented from Tony purchased the property and started a small pizza/sub business around 1973 in Tony’s home. ( they called his home a shack with humerous respect I am guessing). They named the business in his honor and have since expanded to Old Forge and Lowville, N.Y. Why do I add this information.? The menu shows a picture of an older gentleman dressed in Adirondack fashion but offered no explanation so I had to research Tony to satisfy my own curiosity. Perhaps I can gather more information and facts at a later date. Jennifer and I concluded our day of adventures with a drive to find Nicks Lake State Campround just as darkness overtook the hamlet. There was no time for exploring but in typical fashion for the “Paddling Pair” (as we sometimes call ourselves) we had secured the location for Sunday’s adventure. We returned to our cozy room and spent the remainder of the evening reading our new books and studying maps. It had been a wonderful day and we had been successful in our escape from the energy draining snowfall of the night before. We were well fed,warm, and safely in for the night. Together and making MOONTABS. I must leave you here in the living room! The coffee is ready to brew for my morning ritual but I forgot my maple syrup! You won’t wish to hear me snore the night away. I sincerely hope you are not snoring right now trying to follow the story but if you did I suppose my words can serve multiple purposes. I write them for you. I write them for me. I write them for all of us. I dedicate this post to all who wander and seek to explore the unknown with a tenacious passion born of the struggles of life.Our destinies await in the haze of future days that will often begin quite ordinary. It is in the days of ordinary that the extraordinary may be found. In nature I am free and lost to an energy that words will never describe. MOONTABS are more than just memories. They are my spirit energy full of hope,dreams, and love for chasing the path of the sun with reckless abandon.There are no finer moments or finer blessings for those who seek to be lost outside. I leave you with my personal quote: The answers to all questions, in nature can be found. Never to have asked them, uncertain future bound.
Of Highways,Hikes,Hills,and History: Part 2
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
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.
The Goldilocks Story of Recent Events
We’ve all heard the old saying time flies. It certainly has for me! My writing has fallen behind in the past few weeks especially the blog. We have been busy with the maple syrup season in a crazy series of abnormal weather events. A Goldilocks spin of too warm or too cold. Some days were just right and we produced some high quality amber rich grade. Then the swing to dark robust. Full flavor and signaling the progression of season. We had hoped for one more day of jug worthy syrup but Saturday’s boil produced only commercial grade. A sweet and bitter brew with a biting aftertaste. The trees have begun to grow their buds in the sunny,warming days of spring. Frosty nights can’t bring the sweet syrup back now. Even our 50 new taps that ran clear sap couldn’t produce sweet syrup. We decided to begin filling one of our stainless steel barrels although we don’t expect to fill it. They hold 30 gallons. It’s no big deal honestly. We’ve enjoyed a more leisurely season with the goofy weather. None of the mind numbing days and nights where a type of exhaustion would prevail. It was an on again, off again sugar season. During the off days we stayed extremely busy though packing and moving from Hill House. Zane and I have lived there the past 6 years. I sold it to a family from northern Virginia recently after trying to sell it for almost two years. It was the Goldilocks story of real estate. No one wanted to buy it. It was too remote. Too rocky. Too whatever. A couple low offers but nothing I would consider accepting. Jennifer had suggested that I keep it listed on Zillow. A free site that gives you updates almost daily. There were lots of views and saves in my stats profile but other than a few random questions no one had ever stepped forward. That would change last Xmas eve however. I received a text from a man asking more questions. I didn’t take him seriously at first but he kept contacting me asking questions. We eventually spoke on the phone and had an interesting conversation that lasted a long time. About that time a fellow from Pennslyvania also texted me. It had happened. An exodus of buyers was causing an upsurge in real estate in the north country. The Xmas eve buyer requested a showing. I didn’t have a realtor so I would be showing my own property. The Pennslyvania individual also requested a showing through a local real estate agent. To make a long story short the Virginia person whom I will simply call Scott toured the property with me in January. We spent most of the day together. We shared a lunch with him that Jennifer had made in a gesture of northern hospitality. These days we treat strangers with a different attitude. The pandemic has altered our mannerisms. Scott said he wanted the property pending an inspection. I politely turned the Pennslyvania fellow away. He was not happy with me! Scott returned in February with his wife and one of his sons. The house and property were just right! The Goldilocks event had occurred. The handshake agreement of January had led to an accepted offer and we were moving to a closing. Things were moving quickly and we began to pack with an urgency that bordered on obsession.I plowed out the farm driveway as there was a lot of snow at the time. It took some time and effort. I rented a storage box that we call a convex in construction. Twenty feet in length and eight feet wide. Later a second. They’re sturdy,dry,and rodent proof. We started moving out and loading the conex boxes. All this in winter. Not an easy time to move. We dug out our cottage at Black Lake and stored things there as well. March 1st marked the beginning of the syrup season. Now we were both sugaring and moving. It became a little hectic at times with a closing deadline looming. Wow! We owned a lot of stuff! Not surprising I suppose when you enjoy several different hobbies that revolve around a four season location in the world. Spring clothes. Summer clothes. Fall and winter clothes. Footwear for every season. Books and collectibles. Zane’s belongings. You must be catching my drift if you’ve ever moved! Scott and his wife agreed to let us stay ten days past the actual closing on March 17th. A super generous gesture of new found friendship. March 27th found us moved into our small Black Lake cottage. It’s usually called Camp Edith (after my grandmother).She and my grandfather had it built in 1927. They owned a farm in the area and several other lake properties. They actually lived in the cottage at least one winter after a fire destroyed their farm house. A large wood stove heated the cottage then. They only had four small rooms and a covered screen porch. An outhouse. A hand pump from a hand dug well. It must have been cozy living and challenging at the same time! Especially with all the children! I had built on to the cottage in 1995. Added a bedroom,bathroom,and utility room. Indoor plumbing modernized the cottage to a degree. It’s pretty much stayed the same since. One room was removed and the kitchen area was expanded several years ago. Upgrades to electrical. Insulation and some new windows. So here we are in April. Moved into a fully crowded cottage I now temporarily call Camp Chaos. Every day finds us more settled. It gets chilly some nights when the pellet stove can’t keep the cold at bay. I miss the large wood stove but it had become unsafe. We carry our water from the lake for the toilet and washing dishes. We shower at my sister’s house adjacent to the cottage. Some mornings I sip coffee in front of the warm pellet stove with the lights off. I muse on the similarities of my present time to my grandparents time. Very different but connected in some ways. There’s a friendly energy in Camp Chaos that will bring Camp Edith back to full glory. It lives in my determination. To rough it for a few weeks. Rough it? We have a roof over our heads. A flush toilet. Electricity and appliances. Heat. There lies the positivity. Why do we sometimes fail to see what we have and not always wish for more?Our time at Camp Chaos may humble our neediness.Why say it’s too small or too cold?Why not say it’s just right for now? That’s how I think I will approach these days of living in the cottage. The days grow warmer and lake living will get even better. We will end the sugar season this week sometime. Move forward with the cottage transition. Move forward with adventures and travel. Move forward with the blog and my writing. We will approach life with the attitude of saying it’s just right. Try to avoid the negative. What we find lacking we can attempt to change. In the meantime it’s nice to have moved on from Hill House having found the ideal new owners. The move is towards simplicity. Another story for another day.
Ice Age:Part 2
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
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!
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 .
Snow bored? No Snowboard!
I share a special bond with my son Zane. He’s been a source of joy in my life every since his birth some 16 plus years ago. I’ve watched him grow into a rather powerful young man these days. On the mountain trails he tests my endure but has learned patience as well. I still hold my own rather well but must acknowledge that he will eventually surpass me. In some ways he already has I’d have to admit. I lead with upper body strength but not by much. I’m ok with the transition actually.It’s inevitable. It reminds me of something my Dad once said a year or so before he died. We were working with our bandsaw mill and moving some heavy planks we’d just sawn. I was on the front end of one and he was behind me. He suddenly said something most profound to me. “It seems like only yesterday when I was in the front and you were struggling to keep up behind me!Now it is I who struggles in the back!” My father was a man of much fewer words than myself of that make no mistake! I’ve always remembered that conversation and think of it as I watch my son move into the lead. My father was an incredible worker well into his late seventies. I still use him as an age based role model when I think a job or task has gotten too difficult because of “my age”. I shared a special bond with my father for many years. A bond forged in hard physical labor on the farm. In the forest and in the fields we spent many hours together working.It paid huge dividends for me over the years. No task on a construction site was ever more difficult than something I had endured on the farm. I think it was in the blazing hot hay mows that my endurance was secured for all time. Zane enjoys a much more laid back life than I ever had growing up. I’ve taught him to work but we take a lot more time to enjoy rigorous outdoor pursuits then actually working. It’s building endurance in him but in a much different manner. In Zane I’ve found a rough and tumble adventure buddy. The older he gets the rowdier the activities seem to get! A couple years ago we were sliding down hill with Jennifer and her nephew Garrett when Zane decided to ride the toboggan downhill while standing up on it!Of course I had to try this myself! It ended with me smashing my shoulder up some after a nasty spill but not before Jennifer had mentioned she thought I would be a good snowboarder. That’s all it took and the following Sunday would find Zane and I attending a beginners snowboarding class. I had done a little skiing over the years. Both downhill and water. But the snowboard was much different and very foreign feeling. Zane picked it up quite quickly and I struggled through the class falling many times. But my stubbornness would prevail. I would manage to pass the class and secure my lift ticket. Not everyone in the class was so fortunate. I spent the remainder of that day falling and getting back up. But I began to get the feel of it and eventually made some awesome runs! I was hooked! Zane’s happy face spurred me on past the point of exhaustion. I left the hill battered and hobbling but feeling something special had been accomplished. A new place where bonding with my son could occur! Not to mention my new sport was exciting and fun! I never went again that winter and the winter of 2020 would find me recovering from a broken pelvis. I watched from the ski lodge as Zane and his friend careened down the hill. Major bummer for me!But laying low wasn’t going to work for me so I pushed myself to recover. We hiked 13 ADK high peaks in the summer of 2020. It wasn’t easy but Zane was my lead dog and we counted them down one by one. I realized something as we finished our final one in September. I was ready to take up snowboarding again come winter! So recently we have gone twice. I took a second lesson before I tried it for my second time. Last Sunday was my third time ever and I finally started to feel like I was getting the hang of it. Zane couldn’t be happier! I drives me on. Pushing through fatigue and sometimes even some pain. It’s worth it ! On the lift together swapping stories and laughing! I feel like a boy at those moments. Not a father with my son but as two snowboarding buddies. They say there is no foundation of youth. I beg to differ. It flows from the excitement of new experience and challenge. From my son’s encouragement as he helps me back onto my feet when I get too tired to get up myself. From his cheers and fist bumps after a gnarly run where I pushed my limits and stuck the run. My battered and tired body heals after some rest. I’m ready for more. I asked him the other day on the lift what comes next?How will he challenge me? The energy flows through the rush of the board strapped to my feet. That need to stay standing to avoid a painful fall. In my son I’ve found a friend and fellow adventure junkie. Who knows what comes next? I do actually! Our next wild adventure came from an idea that I stumbled upon!He’s going to love it and I’m going to love sharing it!Until then it looks like I’ll be healed up enough to hit the slopes on Sunday. More snowboarding fun is in store. Monday’s were always rough when I worked. Now they’re rough in retirement!