Category Archives: Discoveries

Nature Findings

Days Between Too

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I often find it helpful to break stories into two parts. This portion of my adventure revolves around my fishing experience in a remote Adirondack pond I choose to leave nameless. It’s a destination where I encounter few people and rarely other fishermen. I arrived at the pond and was happy to see it was totally calm. Rare as it’s usually tossed by wind driven waves. I noticed a pair of loons immediately and something seemed out of place with one of them. I paddled closer and realized there were two tiny chicks perched on the one loons back! The loon let me get close enough for pictures and I left the family to pursue their loon activities. The one without the babies moved closer despite my peaceful retreat to a respectable distance. It began to get very animated and uttered a series of calls. Fluttering and flapping as though injured it would rise up out of the water before crashing back down. A ruse to divert my attention and I played along. Eventually the loon settled now and came very close to me. The dogs seemed indifferent to its approach and watched with sleepy eyes throughout the performance. I spoke to the loon and tried to mimic its calls. It answered back and we had a small standoff with the loon the clear winner. My attempts to perfect its sounds may have amused it actually. It decided that I was no threat and swam off to rejoin its family. I wondered if snapping turtles were a threat to the babies. I know they reside in the pond as I see them surface occasionally. What I didn’t know then was that a far more dangerous threat also occupied the pond.

I baited my pole with a weedless sienko setup with light sinkers and began trying for largemouth bass in the deeper waters of the lake. The weeds were invisible below the surface but my rig would twitch and tug my rod tip as it raked over them. I prefer to fish with a 7 foot walleye pole equipped with a quick fire open faced reel. My line is a super strong synthetic that is very small in diameter but has incredible breaking strength. It’s my preferred choice for walleye and it great for all around fishing. I wasn’t using a steel leader as it messes with my slow trolling technique. My rubber bait was rigged wacky and why fish find that enticing is beyond me! It was finally underway! Afternoon fishing. Not the best time of day but with the dark sky I felt I had a good chance of getting something. It was more about the chase anyway and the peaceful mental checkout that fishing supplies.

I missed the first nibble and cursed my lack of attention! It wasn’t long though that another fish struck and I was able to set the hook. I brought the bass to the surface quickly and it danced on its tail for a moment. That moment when they often throw the hook. But it was solidly caught and dove back under with another surge of energy. I had it next to the canoe shortly after and was able to successfully net it. Not huge but looked like a keeper. Yup! The start of a fish fry I thought as I stuck it onto the stringer. No easy feat with it fighting me every step of the way. I worked my way around the pond for sometime after that with no action what so ever. I decided to try a section that I usually skip over and was rewarded with a second legal bass for the stringer. I decided to work the deep hole I had found further after my success. A slight breeze had picked up and I needed to steer occasionally to keep my position. I had thrown my bait over the side and let it sink while repositioning the canoe. Things were about to get wild!

The canoe was back in position and I picked my rod back up to begin my retrieve. There was a serious resistance on the line and I thought I was snagged. However I was able to lift the “snag” some so I figured good just a sunken branch. My sunken branch suddenly began to move and I tightened my line more. It’s a fish I suddenly realized! Seconds later my hooked and invisible adversary sped off into deeper water! My pole bent at a crazy angle and my drag screamed off line to accommodate the increased force. It’s a big one I thought! I gently kept pressing on the fish and managed to get some line in but it soon surged off once again. The power being exerted below the surface was incredible and I kept expecting my line to snap. But the drag worked flawlessly each time the fish sped off. Finally the fish began to tire or so it seemed. It sat below the left side of the canoe and I began to bring it up through the dark green waters of the pond. Suddenly I got a glimpse of my prey!Not a huge bass as I had hoped but a northern pike of mind numbing size! It was hooked in the outer portion of its toothy mouth so it hadn’t sheared the line despite my lack of a steel leader. My view of the pike was short lived however. It spotted the canoe and ran down towards the bottom with a fresh urgency. I don’t know exactly how many times the pike ran or how many times I brought it to the surface as seconds turned into minutes. It charged the surface once and surfaced out from the canoe about ten feet. It employed a typical pike fight response as it snaked back and forth on top of the water. Many will be lost to a fisherman when this occurs but a Native American guide had taught me to bury the end of my rod down into the water to force the fish down. It worked and the battle continued. The pike began to weaken further and I soon had it alongside the canoe. The dogs were somewhat alarmed as it splashed and made one final run. Netting it was damn near impossible by myself. It’s head was in the wrong direction so I attempted a tail first netting. Big mistake as it didn’t even come close to fitting! I heaved it up and into the canoe. I was amazed at its huge girth and length! On the floor of the canoe the pike was out of the net and with a huge flop went over the side! Snap! At first I thought my rod was broken but it was just the knot at the hook that I heard. I had failed despite my best attempts! My huge pike would never make it into a photo and never would I get to measure it! I was still pumped from the encounter and disappointment suddenly washed over me. But I quickly shrugged it off as one of those moments that so often occur while fishing.Man what a predator!!

I kept fishing after that on the pond with no further success. The dark clouds released a soaking downpour and I continued fishing huddled in my rain jacket. I kept replaying the battle with the fish and wondered if I had made any mistakes that I should avoid in the future. Yes there was one big mistake! Fishing alone! The same thing had happened to me fishing in my Alumacraft boat on Middle Saranac years ago. A monster pike and a monster battle that ended in a similar fashion. Without someone to help net the fish it’s much more challenging. Perhaps a larger net would have been beneficial. I am not worried about the pike. The hook will dissolve eventually and it’s not down in the gills or other vulnerable soft tissue. I was suddenly struck by a greater worry. The loon babies! My monster pike is big enough to easily swallow them! Nature will prevail I suppose but I hope the loons survive.The big pike will be rested and hungry after our battle. What does he eat in the pond? Pretty much whatever he wants! As for me I returned to the creek and tossed a surface plug above some of the deeper sections. I stopped at a place where a log jam blocks most of the creek. Shaded and deep where the current holds the floating logs. A bass fishing spot if ever there was one. I lodged the canoe on a snag and fired my plug next to the jam. I was rewarded with a large surface strike from a bass. Hooked well and soon brought into the canoe. I felt better after that. Lost in the moment of sights and smells. My small catch of three bass plenty for my fish fry to come with some to freeze for a second meal. The rain and wind picked up as I returned to the campsite. I reflected on the day and all that had happened. No one to witness anything or recount the memories themselves. It only lives here now and in my memories. MOONTABS my friends!✍️

Days Between

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July 4th. A holiday for most and certainly a day to celebrate all things American! Freedoms are plentiful in this nation of ours. Sometimes it’s difficult to fathom what’s to become of our great nation as time speeds on. I chose not to wander the paths of politics or government during our time here together. Rather I prefer to find positivity and hope that common sense may prevail. There are many good people who want to enjoy simple freedoms and are content in counting their small blessings. I find myself surrounded by the Happy Campers in these Adirondack state parks. They are frequent visitors to my ADK summer posts!

Looking around just what observations can be made about the Happy Campers? Most noteworthy is the display of positive energy most of the time. The joys of the upcoming stay that people post on social media.The arrival and the inevitable departure. It is weather and uncontrollable circumstances. It is family and friends. Or solitude of peaceful avoidance. It is the grand mental checkout before needing to return to the normal routine. Camp life is elemental and grounding. The ultimate immersion into nature and all the wonders that follow the sun across the sky each day. This is our story. Perhaps it is your story.

To say that taking time to write some days is difficult would be an understatement. I get so caught up in daily camp life and chasing adventures that writing sometimes takes the backseat. More like the trunk actually. Sometimes I can get a few words down during the morning generator slot of 9am to 11am but not very often. Often I will sit by the evening campfire and find inspiration in the events of the day. There have been a lot of challenges in my personal life these past few months. Not mine personally but in the lives of those I care about. It is not information that needs to be shared but it’s important to note that emotions often run high and finding a positive place in the now becomes more important than ever. Finding positivity and counting the small blessings lights a path where you might help others through hardships. Here when living life on the Adirondack clock there are numerous small blessings. The five senses are sharper and life takes on a certain clarity. And if the moment is right you may suddenly be swept away by the mysterious sixth sense. It is invisible and powerful. It is when your spirit energy syncs with nature and you feel part of something so much bigger than your own existence. It’s something that I wish I could gift to those with heartache and infinite sorrow. If only I could enter the circle of natural cycle and never leave. Perhaps it would no longer be so meaningful or healing. It here the questions begin. What could I be doing different? Should I grasp for a simpler life with a minimalistic mindset? Or should I trust an inner compass and enjoy the forward momentum. Reflections. I found something in the reflections of the forest yesterday on a quiet Adirondack pond while fishing in my canoe with the dogs. Perhaps I would do better by paddling you through yesterday’s adventure!

Tuesday morning I woke to the tapping of raindrops on the Airstream roof well before dawn. By the time I stated my morning coffee perking it was obvious that light rain was going to settle in and stay. Pulling up the weather on my phone is impossible as service is never very good here at Fish Creek. I was eager to fish so after I completed my morning routine I dressed warmly and donned my rain jacket. The dogs could have cared less about the rain and they happily jumped into the front of the canoe. We were across the pond from the inlet of Fish Creek itself and it took a few minutes to paddle to the entrance. The rain stopped and heavy gray clouds threatened to release more. It was very calm however and that was a huge plus for a fishing adventure. We made good time and soon passed the sign that reads “special waters”. No motorized boats are allowed past that point. It is also here that the campsites are left behind. The setting becomes lush and swampy with numerous lily pads and aquatic growth. The creek widens into a narrow pond of some size. The forest is thick and lines the banks on all sides. Tamaracks grow right out into the shallows but remain small as if the water impacts their growth.As the noise of the campground falls behind you immediately notice the bird songs. Chickadees and oven birds compete back and forth. The trumpet-like calls of the veery echo on all sides. But it is one birdsong that lifts my spirit energy! The white throated sparrow! My favorite of all birdsongs! To hear their signature song is to step backwards in time and remember trips to the Canadian bush fishing years ago.The forests are full of them there and they greet the dawn each day with energetic purpose. They live here in the Adirondacks but are fewer in number. Their songs will never fail to bring me into the now. The count of small blessings begins! To recognize the significance of even being in this beautiful place is the first and many follow.My connection to nature suddenly takes on a different perspective.The paddle continues and we enter the connector creek. Our destination grows nearer!

I have written of the connector creeks that are part of the Fish Creek waterway in several different posts. Winding and twisting in a medley of depths they are a most unique setting. The forest muffles any man made sounds from the distance and birds supply the backdrop. There are numerous fallen trees but the creek is maintained so the route is always passable. What really stands out here are the forest scents! Balsam and hemlock fill the air with a nostril enticing mixture. The lush scent of all things green is tantalizingly fresh after the recent rain. As for the rain? It had stopped and I was looking forward to fishing under cloudy skies. It’s never as productive in the afternoons on sunny days it seems. The dark and overcast sky might aid in my endeavors. The creek suddenly became wider as the first of the ponds appeared. It was almost time to begin drifting and trying for fish! ( to be continued)

Conclusions

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Life at Rollins Pond ticks along and it’s already Tuesday. Sunday was a pretty laid back day overall. A trip to town for a couple things, laundry, and some Wi-Fi to launch a couple blog posts. It was a total scorcher so some quality beach bum time was in order after. Pretty typical day of camp life routine. Meals, dishes, and an evening campfire. But a storm was brewing on the horizon.

I can’t say exactly what time the rain started but eventually a heavy downpour was hammering so hard on the Airstream roof that sound sleep was out of the question. It’s like drums above your head. Tiny pine cones were pinging off the roof also. The storm lasted for several hours and by morning had passed. But there were plenty of signs of copious runoff. On the way to Tupper Lake on Route 30 a highway crew was attempting to drain a flooded section of highway. Plugged culvert it appeared. The temperature had dropped from the eighties of Sunday down into the sixties. A northern born breeze kept things on the chilly side throughout most of the day. Much of the day was spent running down to the valley to grab Zane and Gracie. We did a few odd jobs and then returned to the campsite for a late dinner. Pretty uneventful day of the usual camp chores. I have reached the conclusion that camp life demands a certain amount of attention each day regardless of what activities we hope to pursue. No new revelation there. Just a more focused observation.

Tuesday dawned rather cloudy and a few tiny rain drops fell in my morning coffee. 9am is generator time and I usually do some other chores while the batteries are charging. Zane was sleeping in and I was trying to decide the best activity for the day. Paddling was a given. We had decided that Monday night before bed. I decided to consult our map this time before heading out like the last time.Long Pond would be our end destination. We would reach it via the Rollins outlet into Floodwood then an overland carry of 1373 meters on a trail of unknown condition. The weather remained cool and cloudy but sometimes the sun would pop through for a minute. I was dressed in layers and really didn’t plan on going into the water at any point during the day. Zane and I packed light with only cold beverages. Having both Stella and Gracie in the canoe adds quite a bit of weight to our payload. The trip down through and across Floodwood was pretty casual and we made excellent time. I decided to take Zane up the tiny creek I had explored Saturday. Pretty rugged he decided and we turned back towards the canoe carry. The carry was rather easy for me actually with Zane handled the dogs and the paddles. The mosquitoes were a little bothersome though especially when my hands were occupied carrying the canoe. Our Old Town Pathfinder is 13 feet 10 inches in length and weighs around 74 lbs. It has a carry yoke and balances well. No problem for me still after many years. Zane still prefers not to carry it so I typically get the job. We passed a beaver pond part way into the carry that I believe is actually listed on the map as Anniversary Pond. Still not clear on that at the moment but it fits the location. We reached Long Pond shortly after and I felt like it had been less of a carry than I had originally expected. The sun had returned and we were at our destination!

We weren’t sure what direction we wanted to explore but I had noticed a creek in the valley just below the carry as we approached the pond. It looked very similar to the creek that I had followed Saturday. We headed towards the sound of moving water and discovered what we believed was the outlet of Long Pond. Having studied the map it now made perfect sense. This might very well be my creek! I suddenly began to consider heading back down it on the return trip. Zane was hesitant at first but I began to perk his interest when I mentioned the sluice way that most likely was down the creek if we traveled it. We continued exploring the pond and locating the various primitive campsites along its vast shoreline. Hardly a pond and definitely long I feel that it’s more like a lake. Plenty of dark water of unknown depth with numerous bays and points. There were a few occupied campsites and several other paddlers poking around in the distance. Rather isolated and a place a person could easily find some privacy if that was an objective. The afternoon was moving along and we decided to tackle the outlet. I mentioned to Zane that I was going to keep track of the impassable obstacles that blocked our way downstream. The outlet started out easy to navigate. So old chop marks were evidence that someone had once maintained this waterway at some point. Shortly after we reached obstacle number one. So it was climb out and pull the canoe over. The creek’s current suddenly began to increase dramatically and there were no obstacles in sight. We picked up speed and soon found ourselves in some tiny rapids. Zane was shooting a video while I tried to steer our way through. It was a bumpy ride and we hit several rocks that I feared may have scratched the canoe bottom but there was no way to stop our headlong race down the fast moving creek. We spun sideways and the front end of the canoe caught on a large boulder. Water poured into the canoe and we nearly went over! I jumped out into the fast moving current and got the canoe back in motion. Suddenly we were through the tiny rapids! The obstacles began again shortly after and the count continued to rise. I suddenly recognized where I was when we hit a section of navigable creek for a short distance. Gracie was out of the canoe at this point and either running the bank or swimming behind us. She had nearly gotten run over shortly after the rapids and was almost sucked under a large log blocking the creek. Something that I had feared might happen. We kept Stella safely inside the canoe but I think the whitewater had frightened her a little. Zane was in and out of the canoe the same as me depending on the obstacles. He was in the canoe with me when suddenly the 1927 sluiceway appeared. We had made it and proved what I suspected. Enter the conclusion of what had been unknown.

After that we struggled through the remainder of the obstacles and reached Floodwood shortly after. We were getting bit by numerous deer flies in the swampy section just before the pond. The canoe was filthy and I had no dry clothing at all. My phone survived in its waterproof case as did Gracie’s dog control collar and transmitter. We paddled back as quickly as we could to boost our body temperatures. The sun came out full force and we were laughing about our adventure! At a the campsite Zane showed me portions of his video. Very entertaining!The language is a bit raw however as the whole event was filmed as it unfolded. No staging or retakes. It was one of those days that seem to find Zane and I. Make a simple plan and then something shows itself.I suppose that I am the instigator of much of situations we get into. But it’s a rush of spontaneous endeavor and possibilities. I do love a good thrill! Not to mention the strange need to see what lies beyond and between. On the creek we encountered no one. We were the wilderness explorers of that forested valley. Not many travel here and with good reason. There are some 63 obstacles that impend the creek I call Paradise. There was no folly in today’s adventure. Only memorable moments. MOONTABS!

As for conclusions there are several to be found I decided as I basked in the sun on our campsite beach after getting dried out. One is the knowledge that we are blessed to be having these times together. Zane is growing up. Soon he will be a high school senior. My conclusion is that time passes quickly and we must make it count. As large and fluffy white clouds slowly passed over me while I sat on the beach I reached another conclusion. The magic of the clouds themselves which we grow so accustomed to seeing throughout our lives. What would we think about them if we were to suddenly see them for the first time? There is a place of deep reflection in those billowing white clouds and in their changing shapes. As for my final conclusion that I wish to share here, it would have to be this now that I have placed us in. Very different then so many nows that I have known. Task and time are different here as days run into each other. Tomorrow is the final full day on this Rollins Pond campsite for now. Another campsite awaits on Thursday. I am weary and the campfire begins to burn low. Edits? Not a chance tonight.✍️

The Continuation

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Part of the fun of camping on waterways is the prospect of exploring new areas with relative ease. Rollins Pond offers some unique paddling opportunities we have discovered.Today’s was no exception. It was more then I expected before it was finally over. It’s worth telling if only to keep others from following my route of arduous folly!

The adventure I had decided upon was actually a continuation of some exploration I had done one cool,rainy day in August of 2021. Zane and I had gotten familiar with the Rollins Pond outlet paddle down into Floodwood Pond after we paddled the “loop” one sunny day while camping last summer. It’s a fun trek with two short carries that I would rate easy. The paddle starts at Rollins Pond continues into Floodwood Pond then down the narrow connector to Little Square Pond. From Little Square the loop takes you into Copperas Pond. At the far end of Copperas you will find the first carry which takes you to Whey Pond. The second carry brings you to the Rollins Pond boat launch. From there you paddle back to your site. There are plenty of secluded spots where you can get out and take a break,swim, or casually drift into back waters. The proximity of the forest will reward the paddler with plentiful birdsongs and wonderful evergreen scents. There’s nothing like a whiff of balsam to enhance the already heightened senses.The water has a somewhat organic smell that’s difficult to describe. Not unpleasant just something you notice immediately in the narrow sections of the connectors. My exploration last August took me in a different direction then the loop.But first a previous noteworthy adventure of a similar nature. Some lessons are never learned!

It happened on our first ever camping trip to Rollins Pond last summer. We knew that Rollins connected to Floodwood but were uncertain of the route. I decided to skip checking the map. It will be more fun! I told Zane! I like the mystery of the unknown.We spotted a large culvert draining in the lower section of Rollins Pond and assumed that it led to our destination. It was challenging to get the canoe through the culvert but totally fun! Carrying it up and over the old railway bed was the only other option anyway. Once through the culvert the waterway became very weedy and difficult to navigate. We encountered three other paddlers so we assumed that we were going in the right direction. The waterway suddenly began to narrow down becoming difficult for paddling. The other paddlers disappeared so we assumed they must have turned back. The first of what would later become several beaver dams needed to be crossed. The ponds behind the dams made paddling easier so that was a plus.We forced Gracie our dog into the water as it was getting tedious dragging her extra weight along. She swam and swamp cruised the highly vegetated shoreline often out of our sight. We had no trouble hearing her however as she splashed her way through the thick swamp growths. The entire place had a jungle like appearance. Huge aquatic plants and tall,lush grasses. Bogs and small wetland brush. Lily pads covered some sections of the shallow ponds behind the beaver dams. It was wonderland of quietness and we suddenly started to wonder if we were going in the right direction. There were old chop marks where someone had cleared a path through at some unknown time. We encountered a man made footbridge that we assumed was used by hunters. It was tough paddling and we were expending a fair amount of energy moving forward. The waterway suddenly opened up and split just before a large pond appeared. I was keeping track of the time and mentally calculating the time that we would need to turn back before dark. It would be close if we didn’t reach something soon. We paddled up into the pond that I soon realized wasn’t Floodwood. Too small and there was nothing I recognized. We turned back to the split and headed up against the current. We soon encountered more beaver dams and the stream itself became ice cold. The beaver pond ended and we found ourselves at the end of any discernible waterway to paddle. We decided to turn back. Heading back was tough on our spirits having not reaching our goal but there was nothing else to do. We were muddy,wet, and scratched up from the brushy narrow spots. Eventually we reached the culvert and with some difficulty made our way back into Rollins Pond. Back at the camp we checked the map stashed in the camper. Epic fail to reach Floodwood! We had made our way up into Rock Pond we soon learned. But it was quite the adventure into a place few people seem to go.Wild and quiet. The kind of place that later you realize was worth the effort. True Adirondacks. We laughed about it later after the bug bites and scratches healed.

Here begins the true continuation.It was Saturday and I was alone with only Stella the dog for company. I felt like I needed a break from the noisy,busy surroundings of the campsite. Civilized camping comes with some conditions.For our adventure I decided to push further up the creek that empties in Floodwood that I had discovered last August in the hopes of finding a hidden pond or lake.I had gone up it a short distance but the pouring rain had finally chilled me so I felt it wise to turn back.Saturday the forecast was hot and dry. The perfect sort of day to explore. I knew the creek would be challenging but I had no clue to what degree. Getting there was pleasant enough. I spotted an osprey diving down to grab a fish but it appeared to miss the target. There were plenty of other paddlers around but everyone was spread out given the size of the ponds. I reached the mouth of the creek and hopped out for some photos. I waded up for a while getting past some small beaver dams but the water got deep in spots so I paddled as long as I was able. I suddenly came across a couple in a canoe much to my surprise. I asked the young man where did the creek go but he didn’t know or if it even was passable. He did say I would reach a bridge where a road crossed. Stella and continued upstream passing under the bridge shortly after. A truck pulling a trailer load of canoes crossed the bridge filling the forest with noisy echoes. The creek soon became choked with fallen trees but it appeared that someone had forced their way through at some point. Encouraged I pressed forward dragging the canoe along with Stella adding weight that wasn’t a problem at that moment. It was a lovely setting despite the fallen trees and shallow water. Balsam scents filled the air and everything was fresh from all the recent rainfall. Large pines and hemlocks pressed in upon the narrow stream. The current was rather swift and the creek flowed with a melody of natural forces. I was becoming a little frustrated with the constant obstacles however.Some were huge trees and often several were interconnected in a maddening tangle. I no longer suspected that other paddlers had been through ahead of me. I began to seriously wonder just how far did this meandering Creek continue? We pressed on with stubborn fervor. I decided to let Stella wade beside me. She got smart and ran along the shoreline. Quitting wasn’t an option I was entertaining at the moment. I suppose I could write many more words about our struggle up the creek but if you can picture the maze of fallen timber, shallow water, and the efforts of dragging the canoe then that pretty much covers it!However there was a positive facet of the mission! Quiet, pristine forest all to myself! A babbling brook where few venture. The deer flies and mosquitoes were a slight inconvenience but they weren’t too bad. The brook contained small fish that were difficult to identify in the current. Trout perhaps? I rounded a bend in the creek and was suddenly rewarded with a magnificent sight! A concrete sluiceway under what must have been a railway or road. There was an old battered sign that stated canoe access only. Strange. Getting through the sluiceway was difficult but we managed. The sluice way was inscribed with the date 1927. Whoever had constructed it had taken pride in their craftsmanship. We pressed beyond with a refreshed determination.For a time the creek was a little easier to wade and I became encouraged that I would soon reach something. But it became shallower and choked with deadfalls once again. I was becoming somewhat fatigued and with a heavy heart decided to scrap the adventure. Stella and I got a thrilling ride down through the sluiceway shortly after. We climbed up the steep grade and discovered what I recognized as the old railway bed. After that we plowed our way back to Floodwood and paddled back to the campsite. I was shot! I got out my maps and studied the route had taken. I had been close to reaching ponds but how close will remain a mystery for now. The map shows splits in the creek that I never saw. It shows two sluiceways under the old railway. The questions remain for the moment. Should I return and press beyond? I think I will present it to Zane when he arrives Monday. I think the draw of ripping through the sluice way a few times might seal the deal!And I might not mention all those many deadfall’s! I will leave out a few! ✍️

Summer Begins

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It’s been a busy time these past couple weeks. Lots of details in our modern lives to attend to as most people would agree. I made a grueling trip to Buffalo with the Airstream for its annual checkup at my dealer near Orchard Park. It was a long day that started early at 4am and finished at 10 pm when I returned. The interstate is a wild place to spend 10 hours driving. Even after a layover.The magnitude of the energy it takes to keep us all in motion is rather mind boggling to me. Out on the road with all the other vehicles I realize that perhaps this way of life we enjoy will no longer be possible at some point. The traffic on the interstates runs 24/7 and that thought itself makes my head spin!Gasoline prices have shot up dramatically in recent months. Traveling with the Airstream will come with a steeper price tag. It’s not something I hadn’t considered before purchasing it. It’s just a new reality of cost per destination. And so enters the revised summer plan.

Jen had booked us time at Rollins Pond beginning June 20th and running till June 30th. I sit here on the campsite beach tapping out this post while the busy lives of Happy Campers fill the air with sound. Conversations that carry from nearby campsites. A mix of French and English on this particular site. There’s barking dogs and gleefully screaming children. A late running generator grinds along with steady precision. I turned our suitcase Honda off early and will rely on the Zamp solar charger to power up the batteries till later today. It’s a nice addition to our boondocking set up. Out in front on the pond there is a constant procession of paddlers going by. My neighbors left to do some fishing and I expect they will be gone most of the day again. Nice young men and very polite when I met them Thursday night. I offered them an extension cord to power their trolling motor battery charger yesterday while I was charging the batteries during the evening generator time slot. They were used their truck inverter and needing to run the engine. I figured why have them waste their gas? They were thrilled that I offered. Being a good neighbor makes a difference when surrounded by other campers. Last year one of neighbors used to start my generator while I was still at work. It was a grand act of kindness I felt so I bought them a gift certificate to a local Italian restaurant in Tupper Lake. Out front the pond remains calm under mostly sunny skies. Stella the dog guards the campsite from red squirrels and chipmunks while a feeding fish surfaces very close to me. The day is getting well underway. Time to make a solid plan for a paddling adventure! But first a glimpse at our new summer strategy.

Jen follows the campground cancellations closely and has managed to book us some rather substantial Adirondack camping time. We will be spending it between Fish Creek and Rollins Pond. I will need to move the Airstream several times in a roving cycle of days. It’s actually handy as I will use the move days to hit the dumping station and refill the water tank. We scrapped our proposed New England/Canada trip due to circumstances beyond our control. I can’t mention those circumstances here but wanted to emphasize the importance of making quick decisions and landing on our feet. For me it’s all about the importance of using the travel trailer to its fullest potential. Things are flexible and I have the ability to work part time at the Lake Placid Olympic Center Revitalization Project again this summer. So it’s a bit of a free for all as we move forward. Life throws so many unexpected challenges our way and some people seem to get more then others. I hope to find a quiet getaway today where I can reflect and find a place of positivity to move forward. I go to find those things that nature has placed for me to discover. The Adirondacks are becoming a second home to it seems as I spend more and more time here. Camp life is filled with small task and flows with a daily rhythm. Coexistence is a big part of this camp life. Not all neighbors are polite and respectful unfortunately. The water beckons and it’s time to get moving! ✍️

Beyond It’s On.

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The daylight increases with each passing day as summer solstice quickly approaches. It’s been a busy spring between my part time work and everything else that needs to be tackled post maple syrup season. There’s equipment to clean and store as well as a sugar house to fill with firewood for next season. We have managed to procure some decent slab wood to fast track the process. I was fortunate to secure some Adirondack goof off time while camping back in May. I will start the story there as several memorable events occurred.

I briefly posted on May 23rd about the start of the 2022 camping season. It’s the post titled “It’s On!”.This post highlights some of the more memorable events that followed. It started out a bit wet my first week of camping but I found time to finish a novel that I had been reading for some time. I got caught in the rain one afternoon while paddling up the Fish Creek and headed to Floodwood Pond. It’s a lovely paddle through narrow connecting waterways in a couple of spots. It got pretty windy as I was returning especially on Little Square Pond. Waves don’t trouble me too much typically but it had gotten rather chilly and going into the water wasn’t something that I relished all that much. Gracie held down the bow of the canoe which always helps me control my progress into the wind. She’s a good canoe dog until we get close to shore and she can’t wait to hop out. This backfired on her recently when she jumped out into deep water and totally submerged for a moment! Back at the camper I turned on the furnace and got dried out after awhile. Gracie retired to her dry blanket under the camper out of the rain. My evening was spent reading and enjoying a simple dinner that I made inside the camper. Outside cooking is great but only when the weather cooperates! Jen showed up on Wednesday and we explored Lake Luey near Indian Lake with the canoe. The rocky face of Snowy Mountain got me thinking about the weekend. After paddling we ventured over to Longview Lodge in Long Lake for dinner. It’s a favorite place of ours while staying in the Adirondacks. Great food and a nice atmosphere.A bit pricey but we feel it’s always worth it!The following day was spent exploring the area leading up into the Moose River Plains on a car road trip since it was raining intermittently. I hope to further explore this area sometime when the gates are open. They are kept closed during mud season and open just before Memorial Day. This roughly 80,000 acre tract offers primitive camping along the dirt access road. It’s destined to be a future adventure journey!

Friday found me returning to Hammond to pick up Zane and bringing him back up to the campsite. He had expressed some interest in hiking fire towers so I mentioned Snowy Mountain which has one. We decided to hike there Saturday as the weather looked promising. It was going to be a hot one and the black flies would be out full force!Saturday morning came quickly and we decided to stop for brunch at Chef Darrel’s Mountain Cafe in Blue Mountain Lake before tackling the mountain. The dogs ( Friday we had picked up Stella!)were welcome to sit outside with us on the deck. Great breakfast of eggs Benedict washed down with vanilla milk shakes. Anything goes at brunch time!Fully fortified we headed to the trailhead several miles beyond the hamlet of Indian Lake. I hadn’t told Zane the entire story of why I wanted to climb Snowy Mountain.

Snowy Mountain is known as the 47th Adirondack high peak unofficially. That was the draw for me but the fire tower had convinced Zane to go. There was some confusion however about the total distance round trip. One site listed it as 7.8 miles while another said 7.1 miles. The state sign by the road said 3.4 miles one way. 6.8 round trip. No matter we decided. The hike to Snowy Mountain started out fairly easy and there were plenty of streams for the dogs to enjoy.The trail was well maintained and wound its way through a mixed deciduous growth with many large trees. Eventually the trail began to ascend quite aggressively and the forest changed to conifers. There were a few other hikers on the trail most of them returning from the summit. The black flies weren’t too bad provided we were moving. It was hot most definitely and the dogs were overheating at times. Zane dunked his head and upper body into a super cold stream while the dogs were resting. The trail continued to rise and the streams were left below us. The trail became steep and rocky with a trickle of water keeping some of the flatter surfaces slick. It’s a game of foot placement for me. Zane leaps and scrambles with a recklessly controlled rhythm. I envy his youthful ease! I was feeling somewhat out of shape but managed to keep up rather well. The dogs were struggling with some of the steeper rock scrambles but managing well overall. The last section before the false summit was quite aggressive but we soon reached the flat overlook below the actual summit. Further up we found fire tower and no view whatsoever. At the top of the fire tower the views were incredible! The dogs only went up partway however as the wire fencing surrounding the stairs was missing near the top. Too risky for them we decided. We took pictures and celebrated our latest summit! The return trip was difficult for me and seemed to last forever. I joked with Zane about it being 3.4 miles in and 3.9 miles out! The black flies increased their intensity and became rather irritating. We finally reached the car and enjoyed the return trip. Hot showers and dinner made for an early evening. We spent the next day paddling up to Floodwood Pond and catching a few panfish for fun. We released all of them even the keepers. And just like that the weekend was over.

The remainder of camping trip was spent working at the Olympic Center in Lake Placid. Evenings were short after a 10 hour work day and short commute back to the campsite. Jen came up Thursday night and we hit another favorite restaurant of ours in Tupper Lake. It’s called Amado. Brazilian flair with several unique entrees to try out. We always enjoy it there! Pet friendly in certain sections too! We packed up the campsite some Thursday night and did the rest Friday morning. The trip was over! A successful one filled with special memories! MOONTABS!Adventure waits for us to discover it. The thrill of new destinations and the comfort of familiar settings. Balanced out and lived to the fullest! ✍️

MOOSE ON ThE LOOSE!

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Hey readers and followers! I have decided to try something a little different today! There has been a lot of interest in some of my recent Facebook posts that only a limited amount of people ever get to read. So I thought why not share some of that more personal albeit shorter and less wordy content here sometimes! After all, I spend time getting it up on my wall for a very small group of friends.

Anyone who followers my blogging knows that I spend a lot of time driving to and from the Adirondacks. We see numerous whitetail deer and once in a blue moon a black bear. I always search for moose as we drive but have never seen one myself. Jennifer once saw three at once several years ago! They have become much more common and the number of sightings continues to increase. Last fall one was struck and killed by a car. Too often an occurrence unfortunately but one destined to happen. Driving after dark on Adirondack highways is always a gamble just from the deer themselves. Imagine encountering a moose in your headlights? Yikes! Things were about to change for me and the event unfolded as only I could have imagined it! Here’s my original Facebook post:

I recently got see an adult cow moose on Route 458 on the way to Lake Placid early on a Wednesday morning. My first ever Adirondack moose! It was something that I have waited for patiently. It’s a part of something that I call MOONTABS In Motion. Memories and connections to nature. A writing project of mine. Priceless and unexpected are moments such as these. And all that had consumed my thoughts that morning on the drive would fade away in the magic of a simple moment. And my energy would be restored by nature as it had been so many times. I found positive energy in the simple sighting of a moose.There was a greater sense of peace throughout the remainder of the day. I read deeply into nature. For in simplicity there is balance. A lifelong journey of experience and exploration.✍️

Short and sweet was my post but my emotions have ran high ever since. A Chance encounter that added a twist to my list of Adirondack experiences! One I hope to repeat in a different manner someday. Imagine if you could drift up on one in a river or lake? Just wanted to share a little something that I found extraordinary! Until the next adventure! It’s MOONTABS In Motion!

It’s On!

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Spring moves forward with a mixed bag of weather it seems. Super dry in the St. Lawrence valley until recently. The rains followed days of unseasonably hot weather. Hot. Cool. Cold. Hmmm. Just like the days of life. But always moving forward and counting the positive blessings. Task fills the hours and I wonder how I ever managed to keep up prior to retirement. Such thoughts fill these posts. Time the avenger The Pretenders called it. Last post May 7th. A lot has happened!

Camping season came up fast and found me totally behind schedule. A smoked out water heater control board in the Airstream that I blew off since it failed last October. Happy ending to cut that story short! I purchased an American made replacement from Dinosaur and tossed the junk “made in China” one that has plagued so many Airstream owners. After that things ramped up rather smoothly. No leaks in the travel coach fortunately. But I had blown the lines down per specifications. It pays off usually when we follow advice and procedure. Other than cleaning it was ready to roll. So it was back up, hitch, and roll. Well maybe a little more than that! The camping location had been booked months before so it was destination bound. Camping season was off and running! Pretty wild considering that one year ago we were staying in a rented camper! What to say about the drive? A 2022 Ford F-150 Powerboost for a tow vehicle ready to test. 417 ponies out front and only a 2 hour trip to the campsite. No problem!

As far as the details of hitting the campsite? Tested and tried out last season. Easy money on our large Adirondack water site. Backing into the sites has gotten much easier for me with experience. Zane,Jen, and I made short work of it at any rate. Parked under the pines the camper quickly became home. The chores done and a simple dinner consumed it was campfire time! A beautiful night for a fire once the early arriving black flies went to bed. A light breeze and the sounds of the other Happy Campers around the ponds added to the mood of settling into life on the ADK clock as I so often call it. I sat back in my chair under the stars and watched for orbiting satellites. Always a fixture of the modern night sky these days they have become a constant. I think back to the days of my youth and the first time I ever saw one as dawn was breaking over a North Gouverneur sky. We were bringing in my cousin’s dairy herd for morning milking and searching for a new born calf. Decades ago now and the satellites are much more common in the heavens. Change was gradual I suppose.

We hit it hard that first day of camping. Paddling and a little fishing. Super hot and buggy. Unseasonal and intense I soon realized as my uncovered skin burned. Damn! Forgot the sunscreen! The calm water was great for paddling but the dogs Stella and Gracie were frying so it was beach time. We had done two short canoe carries to reach a somewhat remote pond with a nice beach. We chilled for some time and Zane waded in the shallows chasing tadpoles. Not me! This pond of beautiful sand contains large leeches! No thx! We began to notice increasing black clouds and distant thunder so we decided to head back over the carries. Good decision on our part as we soon encountered whitecaps on the bigger lake we needed to cross. We barely made the camp and secured everything before the rains hit with considerable force.We hunkered down in the Airstream and made preparations for dinner while we waited for the storm to pass. Eventually Zane got the campfire going and we cooked a rack of pork ribs over the coals. Yum! Camp life was in full swing! The rains returned and we dined inside while the Honda generator charged our batteries in advance of the night to come. Boondocking keeps us busy at this campground of no hookups.But we were the Happy Campers once again! It was on and in motion with minimal glitches! The weather is unpredictable and part of it all. In our cozy Airstream it causes us no concern as we call it a day and go to sleep! The adventures wait for us to discover them!The spirit energy soars in the exhaustion of memorable days! Morning coffee will seal the deal! Loaded with maple syrup and waiting for the buzz of the new day! More to come of this trip! ✍️

AI or GW?

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It’s been a fast paced blur these past few weeks to say the least! I tapped out a couple posts while on a trip to West Virginia delivering a U-Haul full of furniture and miscellaneous things. At the home where we were staying I would typically find some free time after my morning coffee to begin a rough draft for a post. Honestly, my rough drafts typically remain just that! Coffee infused ramblings that I toss into cyberspace with little regard for editing or loading with carefully controlled correctness. What’s this got to do with nature or natural connections? That’s a question that may remain unanswered for now! Research Pinnacle State Park in West Virginia. I spent a day hiking and exploring the region. Well worth the visit!

It all started with the drive itself as we left for Bluefield,West Virginia the Saturday before Easter Sunday. It had been a whirlwind week. I had been struggling with a warranty issue on my 2021 Ford F-150 truck for over two weeks. The problem was a faulty wiper motor that worked occasionally or not at all. No time in northern New York is a good time not have fully functioning windshield wipers! April is no exception! It seemed that it should have been an easy fix but that was not the case in this particular circumstance! Rather than bore you with the details of the entire situation I will simply say that Ford Motor Corp. and my local dealer wished to continue a business relationship with me. As such, on the morning of our departure I was behind the wheel of a brand new 2022 Ford F-150 Powerboost hybrid. As fine a piece of machinery as I have ever climbed into I must add. I had loved my 2021 so had chosen this one due to its similar features. The hybrid option was a nice upgrade and had sealed the deal with my salesperson at the dealer. The technology was mind numbing with the synch 4 system on board as I would soon learn. Perfectly synched to my phone and music preferences. Voice activated controls that awaited my every beck and call.Why it could practically drive itself! Oh wait! Did I not mention that it almost can accomplish that task? It seems my highly sophisticated truck has a mind of its own. My super smart truck does much of my thinking for me I soon realized as I set the cruise control at a comfortable 63 mph. It keeps itself perfectly in my traffic lane at all times. I can release the steering wheel but it gets irritated after a bit and then eventually scolds me with a slightly annoying tone complete with a visual prompt. It’s was a little unnerving to let it take the corners for me but I began to trust its highly attentive sensors and cameras after a while. Distracted driving? Never! If we (yes the truck and I) came up behind another vehicle a safe distance would be maintained at a constant speed. But the truck is ever cognitive and conscious of my feelings so I am allowed to override everything by hitting the gas or tapping the brakes. I think it wants to keep me happy and content at all times so I don’t pull over and disable its many parameters. It’s a friendly relationship after all. One that we quite literally raced into when we hit the high speed game of interstate travel on I-81 south. But why wouldn’t I be happy? She happily shares the responsibility of my self indulgent driving with Siri. Siri handles the entertainment and navigation functions as well as incoming calls and texts. They seem to work well together these two friends of mine. Siri once got upset when Zane called her stupid so I don’t allow him to insult her anymore. She’s shy though and won’t respond when I tell her that I love her. That’s ok! The miles are many and I can wait for her to come around. Maybe she’s just playing hard to get. And just like that I fall under the comfortable allure of technology. It’s been years in the making I suppose. A little nudge here and a big shove there have brought me to this blissful destination of thought free oblivion. I do get angry with the truck when she slams on the brakes thinking we are about to collide with another vehicle. But she gets upset when I start dodging potholes and asks me to rest. No she doesn’t have a name and I don’t plan on giving her one. That would just be too weird! It’s life in the fast lane circa 2022.

So did the trip go? Safe and uneventful. Lots of music and muses. Driving (rarely riding) on the busy interstates I find myself making many observations and drawing a fair number of conclusions. 12 hours of driving can do that to a person after all. The endless strings of cars,trucks,and tractor trailers. Campers and contractors with heavily laden cargo racks. Military convoys and motorcycles. They all blend together in a metallic blur of potential threats and constant obstacles. The end of the day finds me fried with a nerve state I call the road buzz. No fear though Siri comes through with the destination spot on. Mission accomplished! Cargo delivered intact! The bigger story of interstate travel will need to wait for now.It truly shares a twisted connection to nature. Technology is the name of the game in this story.

Day three of our stay in West Virginia found me introduced to some home security equipment. I had experience with old school hard wire security sensors,cameras,and card swipe systems in a commercial setting but this was something new. Sure I had seen it advertised on television but I pretty much had toned it out. Home security for me is a German Shepherd most of the time. A trip to the a local Bluefield hardware franchise was the ticket to modern security technology. Wi-Fi controlled cameras and doorbells. Wireless sensors for windows and doors. Easy to install with minimal power requirements. I gained some useful knowledge helping getting it all online. The old dog and a bag of new tricks. Do we need them back home?

The final leg of my techno-filled trip involved a short 2 hour drive to Forest, Virginia to visit a cousin of mine. He also just happens to be the man behind the technology that runs and perpetuates this blog! Call him administrator! It’s been a fun project and one that time will evolve into a larger vision. I got to spend some quality time outside with him and his family. They live in a wooded tract of well constructed homes with numerous birds and wandering deer right in their backyard. At night we could hear a coyote chorus from the undeveloped property nearby. We traveled about 50 minutes the Saturday I was there to hike at Crabtree Falls.It’s a beautiful location and a stunning set of falls. It’s a 1.7 mile hike to the top and the views are spectacular.You can find it on the All Trails app. It was a busy location with a steady surge of polite hikers. Parking was challenging and there’s a $3 parking fee. One of the highlights of my visit was talking to my cousin’s boys Andrew and Christian. Tech savvy to the maximum and full of information. We were discussing my blog and my writing techniques when the subject of AI came up. They showed me some interesting websites to visit where the aspiring writer could walk a landscape of perfect grammar and rock solid structure. Feed the AI your thoughts and stand back! Perfectly written like a professional! I found this most intriguing and somewhat alarming at the same time! Does anyone still remember the old Memorex commercials for cassette tapes? “Is it live or is it Memorex?” Something like that. The conversation with Andrew and Christian got rather animated at that point! I began to speculate on the ramifications of AI and how it could be used to “enhance” my posts. To become professional under the invisible shroud of technology sure might sound tempting I explained to them but at what point would my footprints disappear? Would MOONTABS still be me or become some artificial (albeit perfect) version of me? Could AI get it correct? It takes experience and emotion for some stories. It’s important to tell the story in my own words. It’s the backbone of all my work. Rawness in the story follows rawness in nature. That’s the connection. Maybe I will visit Grammarly though just to test the proverbial waters. Perhaps someday it could become yet another techno friend in the truck. Writing the blog while driving by simply speaking. Perfection and purpose together.Will you need to ponder on any given day is it GW or AI? I seriously doubt the best AI can navigate the forests of Taz-mania. This is the new reality for us. It’s a wild ride they once described as future shock. I plan on having some more fun with this subject as I follow where all this leads. I am headed back up to the Adirondacks soon for some disconnected life on the ADK clock. It’s a little overdue.Nature eroded the mountain that became Pinnacle Rock. Will technology erode the essence of creative writing and transform the author’s message? Nature has few shortcuts. That’s a solid place to stand. ✍️

Beyond The Run Of The Mill

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Several months ago I began the “Run of the Mill” stories as a manner in which to preserve some of my personal rural heritage history. People have told me that they wish to hear more of those long past decades. I have a tendency to wander aimlessly through those decades.It’s all connected though! Often my certain memories are triggered by the changing of the seasons. I feel that affords better story telling with greater emotional connection. One particular set of memories stands out with a certain clarity beginning in 1996. A series of events began to connect and would ultimately lead in unexpected directions. It started quite simply in 1996 with the purchase of 110 acres of rural property on the edge of the Macomb/Rossie town boundary. It was a mere 7 miles from my father’s farm giving it the advantage of proximity but there was a larger draw. The undeveloped potential of the land. There was a modern element of homesteading that appealed to me in some unique manner. In fact many years prior to purchasing the property I had driven past different times and noticed that very potential. I had always expected someone to develop it but it never happened. The main feature of the property that caught my eye was the open meadow that stood at the base of a wooded ridge line. There were no power lines on the property nor access roads of any kind. It’s difficult to say why it held such appeal but I suppose it was the sheltered way the meadow was tucked in between the surrounding ridges. Also the fact that there were no neighbors in sight either. One day in 1996 I noticed a small For Sale By Owner sign by the road. I walked the property with the owner and was immediately hooked.We had strolled through the numerous stands of tall white pine and found ourselves on the bank of the Bostwick Creek. A group of ducks gave flight from the lower end of a large beaver pond and flew up over a steep ridge of red oak trees. A small meadow sat adjacent to the beaver pond in a basin of sorts surrounded by forest. I knew that the property was perfect at that point. It would take some work to make it a homestead but I found that exciting actually. Perhaps I envisioned myself as some type of pioneer. Some trimming and clearing began later that year along the edges of the meadow. I laid out the driveway first and it was installed in 1997. It was built right along the edge of the forest so it would be minimally invasive to the meadow’s appearance.The site for a 26’x40’ garage/barn was staked out for construction that fall.Some test holes were excavated to determine if a cellar was possible for the future house. Macomb is known for its veins of bedrock that reach the surface with no predictability.No bedrock was discovered but the hard clay soil of the meadow’s side hill would require custom drainage systems. Big plans were brewing for 1998.The hard work was truly about to begin! As winter approached I cut a logging road into a back section of the property where some of the white pine was beginning to die off. In January my father and I began to harvest white pine logs from the property using a team of horses that he trucked in on Saturday mornings.An area of the forest was targeted and we constructed a landing in a slightly open spot under some large pines that were to remain. I did all the felling and limbing in addition to hitching the logs for skidding. The logs were skidded a short distance to the landing then loaded onto a horse drawn wagon and taken out to the edge of the highway to be piled on a side hill staging area.Mid day we would eat our lunch right in the woods while the horses munched on some hay my father had brought in a grain sack. It was busy work and we left tired at the end of the day. We worked the same section for several Saturdays and made great progress due to the lack of snow. I clear cut my way through the stands leaving plenty of young healthy trees beyond the slash. A buffer zone now lay between the dead trees and the living. The pine logs were high quality and very fun to fell! Tall and straight with few limbs near their bottoms. There was a certain thrill in the prospect of turning them into lumber as they fell one by one with crashing roars. I would get lost in the work and move from one to the next. Using a chainsaw requires focus especially when limbing. The large pines often crush smaller hardwoods when they land. These bent over saplings possess incredible stored energy and are very dangerous to the feller. Spotting them is crucial to avoid injury! I call them “slap sticks” and for good reason! I employed a “layered” approach to the felling. I would fell a pine and trim it into skid logs which my father would then extract with the team. The next tree would be felled on top of the “slash” layer. The aftermath looked a little raw but the amount of young pine that remained standing was impressive to say the least. We would never lack for building materials provided the forest remained healthy. It is interesting to note that the slash areas healed quickly over the subsequent years and the skid roads became handy access trails for harvesting firewood.Later that spring we targeted another stand of healthy trees close to the future garage site.Another access road was carved in following the lay of the land. Staking out the access roads was a pleasant job that I truly enjoyed! A large network of potential trails began to appear to me at this point and I envisioned the true potential of a sustainable,healthy forest plan. That story must wait for now. I crafted a landing near the targeted ridge where we would be extracting logs. This area was experiencing a die off similar to the one we had just harvested. The cutting yielded some very large logs that were perfect for creating pine siding boards. This section of forest contained more hardwood species so felling was a bit tricky! The logs were hauled by the horse drawn wagon out to the driveway area to a second staging area.A higher section of the ridge had been heavily damaged by a wind event. I began to map out a future trail system to reach the area for a salvage cut. It was a fun part of the homestead process for me. The raw and undeveloped property was an ideal project of future forest stewardship. The property was so much different than the semi-open farm property where I had grown up.It was a true forest of some magnitude and I loved exploring its rolling terrain.From the clearing of the second landing the ground fell away into a deep valley.The back meadow and beaver pond on the Bostwick Creek were visible from there. It was a lovely place to relax and dream. We decided that our stockpiles of logs were adequate so the logging was concluded. Sometime in April after maple syrup season we trucked the logs to the Amish sawmill to be custom sawn for our barn/garage framing requirements.All the lumber was trucked back and unloaded by hand. I stacked and “stickered”it up on top of crib piers that I constructed from concrete blocks. Stickering lumber allows it to air dry by keeping the pieces separated by narrow strips of lumber. We hired a backhoe operator to prep the hill side garage site and managed to it leveled for building. An Amish crew began to work shortly after. Footers were poured and layers of block were laid to build the garage into the side of the hill.The barn/garage was tucked into a notch in the meadow at the end of the driveway. The gambrel roofed barn/garage went up quickly and was soon finished minus the doors. I made some temporary doors from plywood that fall and stored extra lumber inside. Electricity was brought to the corner property a year later after reaching a deal with the power company. Conduits were buried to bring power and phone to the garage to keep the pristine appearance of the meadow intact. . The stage was now set for the next part of the homesteading project. Planning began for the actual house. It would be constructed in 2001. The logging project that led to the barn/garage being built brought a sudden realization to the table. Why haul logs from the property only to haul the lumber back again? We began to consider buying our own sawmill from that day forward. My father pushed for the purchase and in 2003 I agreed to buy one with him. We chose a portable sawmill that was popular with the Amish. The Brubacher . Made in Canada using minimal hydraulics and no high end technology. We chose the gas powered option with a 25 horsepower Robins Subaru engine. Capable of cutting a 20 foot log with a 30 inch circumference. Solid and sturdy in its simple design. The new direction began to show itself that year as I learned to become a sawyer. I began to recognize my connection to my late grandfather as he had been a logger and sawyer in the 1960’s. My father had worked in the woods his entire life as well. I was already close to my father and frequently worked with him at the farm but something new was beginning to take shape. A new era of bonding and deeper father/son friendship formed as we began working together with our new sawmill toy. If only I could gift that feeling to the world and truly emphasize what it meant to me! A transformation was underway. One that would no unnoticed in the busy task of daily life. But the spirit energy would find me on the weekend when I walked the trails of the homestead property. It radiated from the scent of the pine lumber of the newly constructed barn/garage. Something much larger called out to be acknowledged in the hidden recesses of pine groves where nature ruled with quiet dominance.I suddenly began to question everything that was my normal vocation and began to yearn for something different. Looking back now I am truly thankful for all that followed. I can’t say it was planned and executed with a larger strategy. It just kind of showed itself and was decided along the way.It’s a story that deserves to be told in greater detail to truly capture the spirit of the moment. Many things were bound to happen. Many things did happen. These would be the years of self discovery and ultimately the start of something that continues to grow. The years of blood,sweat, and tears I’ve called them. They passed fast it seems now. I found a part of myself in those years that had laid dormant like a seed waiting for it’s time to grow. The spirit energy flowed strong and fast. My heart told me to chase the possibilities so I did. There are few regrets and oh so many blessings. Those memories I have named MOONTABS.