Moving And Shaking!

Posted on August 7, 2023August 7, 2023 by Greg Washburn

Today is a special day! Day 48 of summer. Counting forward there are 48 more days of summer before the first day of fall! Time to really take any summer activities we want to enjoy seriously! We’ve spent a lot of time working at the farm as July has turned into August. The rail system that now supports the farm cabin Little Red was completed shortly after my last post. I nervously began planning the move of the building which we have been calling the Warming Shack for the past several years. I designed a hitch system for the move planning on using my tractor. It was an epic fail despite the fact that my tractor hydraulics could lift the building slightly. I didn’t even try to drag it! It was time for plan B!

Plan B was simple. We would use two tractors for a tandem hitch and drag. The real problem I predicted was how we would get the building onto the rails. But I kicked that can down the road. Our friend Gregger showed up the next day wanting to witness the move. He spotted my neighbor’s big John Deere backhoe and asked why we weren’t using it for moving the building. I explained that we could if I could get it started. Great idea! I parked my little 40hp New Holland 4wd next to it and realized just how right he was to suggest it! My tractor looked like a toy almost next to that behemoth! It’s loader even had chain hooks welded to it. It’s hydraulic cylinders that control the bucket are huge when compared to my tractor. I knew I had seriously underestimated the weight of the building from the start. Would my rail system even hold it? It was time for plan C as the old backhoe roared to life with a cloud of belched diesel exhaust.

We rigged two grade 70 road chains under the 6”x8” skids that support the cabin. I through bolted the chain to them after drilling them out. We were ready to roll! I lifted the heavy cabin easily with the backhoe’s loader. We were forced to stop work as yet another thunderstorm soaked the already soggy ground even more. Lightning flashes were getting too close for comfort! After the rain subsided I hopped on the backhoe and tried to back up with the elevated building. I moved a short distance but soon got to spinning on the wet ground. No problem I decided! I hitched my 4wd tractor to the backhoe for a tandem pull. Zane tried his best but all we both could do was spin. All was lost until the ground dried out I feared. Or was it? Gregger suggested curling the bucket of the backhoe while sitting stationary. It worked and I was able to drag the building a short distance. Little by little we inched the building forward and finally with both tractors spinning with screaming engines we picked up steady momentum and gained some speed. Once we had it moving it pulled easily.

Ripping and tearing! Down for a moment to reassess.

All was well until we reached the turn by the big barn. We took my tractor off the pull and reversed the backhoe. It easily pulled the building by itself on the firmer gravel of the driveway and the redistribution on weight to its back tires. I took it up onto the road and tried to get lined up with my marker stakes that I had set in place to align the building’s skids with my rails. I was able to get it close and decided to quit for the day while we were ahead. I was shot from all the nervous activity.

The next day I successfully managed to get the building onto my rail system using pipe rollers and the backhoe. I got it lined up and into its final resting place by the end of the day! Mission accomplished! The rail system was a success! The building was level and no further work was needed on the foundation. I anchored it down onto the rails and that was that!

The pipe rollers make short work of the task.

Everything had lined up perfect for the electrical conduit to be attached to the building. After a few hours of work the building had a functioning outlet to power the project. Now came a labor intensive part of the renovation.Repairing and packing out the porch. Putting down a subfloor and shortening the timber frame posts that were weather damaged. My cousin Gerry and Zane helped me with that and progress was made. The weather was conducive to productive work so that was nice. I started the curtain walls next with Zane’s help. They will surround the timber frame former facade that will now become an inner feature of the camp. Protected from the weather they will showcase the antique bar wood theme I am planning. That’s pretty much where we are at right now.

There’s a lot of other things going on while we work part time to advance the cabin. But moving the Warming Shack cabin was a milestone. Worthy of a blog post most certainly. I am so glad our good friend was there that day to help us with the move. Our years of construction have taught us many things. Rigging and moving heavy objects just a small part of that. There’s lots of work yet to do before the the building becomes Little Red. In the shadow of the monster barn we call Big Red it will become an integral part of our farm property experience. Working together on it is beneficial for Zane and I. As for what else we have going on it will show itself shortly. And btw! That woodshed we saved and moved? It’s going to be the new Warming Shack I decided! Little Red will be too nice for muddy maple syrup worker to mill around in!✍️

More Milestones

Posted on June 27, 2023June 27, 2023 by Greg Washburn

It’s just two days after Zane’s graduation and I have gotten used to the new reality.In the weeks leading up to it however I was subject to periods of intense reflection. Always the question of the passage of time and where it has gone. When Zane was born I had done the math to that the far off year of his graduation and what my own age would be then. It seemed like such a long time away! I rarely thought much about it as the busy days of work and endless details occupied my time. Zane and I had talked quite a bit about graduation the past few weeks honestly and all that was coming next for him. I likened high school graduation to yet another milestone in life. One right up there with getting a driver’s learning permit, taking a road test, and ultimately getting a driver’s license. I hadn’t really considered it but his graduation was also a milestone for me. My son is fast becoming an adult with adult decisions to consider.My thoughts were a mix of memories and plans for this new future reality. But like many events graduation will soon be far behind us as the days of summer truly begin post solstice.

Zane and I have been fortunate to be able to spend more time together as the final days of school wound down. We threw ourselves into the woodshed project getting the skids secured to the upper wall sections. We started putting the floor boards down as well. I moved it one Saturday recently without really planning that as the project of the day. I had gotten curious as to the best way to hitch to it so I backed up to the middle oversized timber and chained it to the lowered tractor drawbar. I was thrilled when the tractor’s hydraulics easily lifted the end of the building clear off the ground! It rested on the back sections of the skids and I realized that I could probably easily pull it! So off I went with it with no hesitation! It dragged well but I stopped to take a photo and check things out.

Turning suddenly became my new big obstacle. I was hitched very close to the building so short turns were going to be impossible. I adjusted my hitch and was able to get the woodshed close to where I wanted it but not exactly. After a series of maneuvers and hitch adjustments I got it to what I thought was the right spot. We had cleared a section of the sugarbush very close to where the sawmill is located. Unfortunately I had to cut a small maple to get the best location cleared and scraped. There’s a nice vein of bedrock that comes to the surface along the edge of the meadow. The bedrock would make an excellent foundation point so the shed would never settle. I unhitched the tractor and began to jack up the woodshed to begin the leveling part of the project. I got nicely started but soon realized that the front of the woodshed would be far too high once leveled. So the only thing to do was drag it forward where the grade was less. This involved additional hitching and dragging but I got it in place finally. Now I could get back to the jacking.

Collateral damage was minor during the move. Rocks were a problem.

The 8000 lb rated Bulldog jack works well for this type of project. I got a nice start on the support piers but a sudden rain storm suddenly cut my work short. I stuck it out as long as I could but eventually had to quit for the day. The dry spell is over for the time being and we have gotten some decent rainfall. The wildfires in Canada are still raging though but the smoke is gone so nobody thinks too much about them really. My email was never answered about volunteering to help out so I have given up on the subject. After a day of intense clearing and burning next to the woodshed site I seriously began to doubt my abilities to handle the volume of smoke it would entail. Call it a lesson of sorts I suppose.

A hot sweaty day of eating smoke prior to the woodshed move.

Last week we went downstate to do a drywall project for a friend of ours.It ran Tuesday till Friday and tied up most of our week. Our friend Vern went downstate with us to drywall so we were a three man team mostly.We had to spend three nights in a motel way too close to the interstate. But fatigue has its benefits and I actually slept rather well after the first night. The weekend was dedicated to a party and graduation itself on Sunday. Just like that a week had passed!

One room of several we worked to drywall.

Sunday evening I found myself alone post graduation ceremony. I decided to break out the tandem Old Town kayak for a paddle back at Camp Edith. The skies were cloudy and distant thunder would rumble from time to time but I wasn’t too concerned. After sitting in the steamy Hammond Central School for the ceremony I needed some proximity to the water. Gracie rides well in the front of the kayak and is a super chill watercraft dog until you get close to shore. She always wants to jump out first.It was nice out on the lake and an approaching storm sent most of the fishing boats scrambling for home. Soon Gracie and I had the lake to ourselves! Rain began to fall slightly but it wasn’t bad so we continued our paddle out onto the big section of water the locals call Broad Lake. It can be a tricky place to be on Black Lake sometimes as it’s susceptible to wind and produces some very large waves! I go there on purpose sometimes to test my kayak skills in the whitecaps.Gracie and I had just reached Broad Lake when it began to pour! We headed back but the heavy rain continued and we were soon totally soaked! It felt great actually! The two of us alone on the big water on a water logged adventure! Dry space awaited us back at camp and we arrived happy and refreshed!

Recent fishing excursion. Gracie is not going to lose her spot!

The adventures this summer have been a bit different then the past few years. Much more work oriented. It’s time to transform the farm into something more. The progress has been rewarding and I suppose the successful moving of the woodshed was a milestone of sorts. Things are falling into place slowly but surely. Time continues to speed past. Today saw us completing the jacking and support piers of the moved woodshed. We finished just before a huge rainstorm once again saturated the farm. More rain continues to fall tonight and the humidity follows each storm. July looms just around the corner now. There’s much to be accomplished before the end of summer. More milestones await us. Our end goal is simple: turn the farm into a sanctuary where spirit energy waits to be renewed. A place where we dream big and create lasting memories. MOONTABS we call them!

Catching Up

Posted on June 5, 2023June 5, 2023 by Greg Washburn

Spring is quickly beginning to feel more like summer recently! Last weeks hot spell was a little much as temperatures hit very close to 90 degrees! The two hottest days just happened to coincide with the two I was working on a construction project at Fort Drum. Brutal and energy sapping is a pretty good description!

There’s been quite a bit of work done around the farm recently. I finished the neighbor’s logs and the rest of my own salvage logs. The timbers that will be used for moving the wood shed are done and waiting to be installed. I got my neighbor’s 3400 Ford tractor started finally and used the wood splitter up on the warehouse landing to split up some of the stack of blocks leftover from last winter. There’s still a lot of work to be done to ever clear the landing. It probably won’t happen until fall now. It’s getting late to be messing around with firewood.

Living at Camp Edith is handy given the short drive to the farm. Returning one evening I got to see one fox kit out hunting with one of its parents! Fun to watch before they disappeared into the tall grass. I wrote a funny Facebook post about the foxes allegedly getting my sister’s chickens last summer. I imagined a criminal case where I represented the foxes as their attorney and even a courtroom scene! I should try and copy it and get it onto this page! People found it entertaining and I had a lot of fun writing it!

I spent one Sunday burning a brush pile and cleaning up a huge dead maple across the main meadow next to the Long Narrow meadow. I worked for hours trying to get everything burned up. I also cleaned up a couple of fallen trees that were sticking into the meadows. I hope to connect the two meadows together in time for ease of maintenance and actual haying. There’s quite a few rocks to remove and some rather labor intensive grading to do as well. Getting rid of the big tree was a big improvement to my view as I constantly noticed it and considered it an eyesore. The wood wasn’t worth salvaging so burning was a great alternative. The remains of my fire smoldered for several days but there was no danger of it spreading anywhere.

I spent some time later that week ripping up some invasive wild honeysuckle and clearing the trails along the high ground above the gap. The trails had become impassable.Blocked by fallen trees of all sizes it took me awhile to get them open again. I salvaged a porcupine damaged pine tree into a 26 foot long log that I skidded to the landing. I needed it for a project that I planned to do with Zane that Saturday.It was time to further his farm education in a real time practical sense. It involved me teaching him to run the sawmill to create lumber we would need for our project. It doesn’t get anymore practical then that!

If you’ve followed my Run Of The Mill posts then you already know much of my history of being an amateur sawyer and woodman. I felt it was time for Zane to become a fourth generation Washburn sawyer. With our new gravity log loader frame and sawmill in place there would never be a better time. We cut the 26 foot pine log into 3 pieces to maximize yield. The taper of a long log can really hurt your yield overall. We settled for a stocky 8 footer,a slim 10 footer, and a very crooked 8 footer from the top of the tree. The goal was simple: fill our small lumber order that we needed for our build that day. We needed 8 foot boards and a few 2×4’s. I helped Zane develop the “cants” that would make that happen. He caught on quickly and learned the saw scale that’s attached to the mill on craft his lumber.He was very proud of his accomplishments and said he truly enjoyed sawing lumber! It was a proud and happy moment for me! After log 3 we were finally caught up with all our saw logs! There was nothing left on the landing.

The project where we would use the lumber was behind the sugar house. Years ago we had built a lean-to there to hold 275 gallon bulk storage sap containers. We used them for a few years but once I retired I was always able to keep up with the boiling so we never needed them anymore. Zane and I decided to turn the lean-to into a storage area for all our sap buckets and misc. Once completed with walls and a door we could lock it up. So after framing in the door opening with 2×4’s we had just sawn, we sided it with the boards we had also just sawn. It was a good lesson for Zane and he was thrilled that we had made the lumber we needed to get our small job done!

The final thing we needed was a door. I had told Zane that we would repurpose the single door that was on my Father’s old woodshed when we were building our rough opening for the lean-to door. We would also salvage its roller track runner. No hinges would be needed. The upcoming woodshed improvements phase out the old single door so it would live on in a new location. Everything went well and we closed out the day at that point.All we needed was a hasp and lock to finish the job.

While we were at the sugar house I could hear the phoebes in the trees nearby. I went inside to check on the nest and there were 4 baby birds inside.The phoebe nests in this spot every spring.Pretty neat to know that the sugar house provides a safe nesting location for the birds!

Since then it’s been all about doing some work for our friend as a side project and getting back onto the commercial job site at Fort Drum last week. Zane and I cut up all the slab wood from the saw logs Saturday. It’s now inside drying out for next sugaring season. Along with some odds and ends I managed to get done. Little by little it will add up although we will probably end up needed to cut more next fall. This is going to be a busy summer. We started our next project late Saturday afternoon. It’s a challenging one! The moving of the old woodshed to a new location in the sugarbush. It all started with cleanup of old bark that covered a big section of its floor. Shoveled into the tractor’s loader bucket it was easy to dump onto a future burn pile. Sections of the floor were rotted so they were added to the burn pile as well. Next we began jacking up the structure and blocking it in place. That’s where we left off by Saturday night. Much more to do!

Saving the woodshed is not a new idea for me. Three summers ago I brought power to it as well as our recovered underground water line that goes out to the old spring. I had planned to convert the building into a combination bath house,laundry, and kitchen area. But the feasibility of the build was not really sensible.But I had no desire to tear down the woodshed as it was basically sound except for the floor aand foundation.Not to mention my Father had built it so I wanted to preserve it. Having a woodshed is handy and functional at the farm property. We use the old granary for a woodshed at the moment. The bath house project will be revealed once we begin on it.For now we will focus on getting the woodshed moved. Watch for it!

Jacking it up with a “Bulldog” farm Jack. 8000 lb capacity.

So this sort of catches you up to our recent activities! There’s no exciting adventures or mountain hikes. No camping or fishing. Just hours of tedious manual labor that will eventually usher in a new chapter of farm living. It will see the completion of the camper hookup site. Winter bathroom facilities and much more. But we’ve taken time to enjoy morel hunting. Cooking meals and desserts at Camp Edith. Day to day details of the sort that most of us engage in. I have been reading more and have watched no Tv here at camp. I took the time to do a little maintenance mowing with the bush hog at the farm as well. There’s always something to and something to fix. That’s the price of owning buildings and property. But Zane’s excited at our new progress and where it’s all headed. Follow our projects and don’t worry! There’s plenty of upcoming adventures planned. Upgrading the farm property is long overdue so it’s time!

The Thrill Of The Mill

Posted on May 19, 2023May 19, 2023 by Greg Washburn

We are just warming up again today after a cold snap of several days where the wind stayed in the north. I had to bring additional firewood from the farm twice to make Camp Edith warm enough to stay here. Wednesday night the temperatures dropped to 30 degrees! Pretty chilly for mid May.Fortunately we always seem to have an abundance of firewood to choose from at the farm. Up on the warehouse landing there was a nice selection of split mixed lengths and sizes. It was a good time to use up some of that mixed collection as I am hoping to clean up the landing later this year. It’s gotten rather messy. So I brought back smalls,weirds,and low grade pieces we call devil’s rejects. Weirds are quite simply odd shaped chunks that don’t stack well. Smalls are short chunks. Funny how we have our own lingo for firewood!

I recently got back to work on a project that Zane and I started almost two years ago. The side hill just below the log landing was a perfect location to build a gravity log loading platform for the sawmill. First I brought in some sandy roadside dirt the town had given me to level the sawmill site. Then I dragged up an old power pole that the power company had abandoned behind the barn to construct the main runner of the log loader system. I attached one end to a huge hickory tree as an anchor point and built piers out of cement blocks for the other supports. I even utilized a tree stump that I had saved for one of the supports. It should last for quite a few years hopefully.

I then backed the sawmill up parallel to the main runner and lifted it to remove the wheels that make it portable. I got it all leveled into place eventually and stationary on its six posts. This is tricky when working alone but I used the tractor’s loader for the heavy work. A small hydraulic bottle jack works well for fine tuning and leveling. I was making progress and quit for the day after spending several hours to reach that point.

The next step involved skidding in another salvaged power pole that would be sawn into planks for the perpendicular runners.Shorter five feet long 3×4’s would be sawn for the removal planks that enable the logs to be rolled onto the mill. I modeled my design after the one my father and I had built years ago at another property. In time we had added a building over top of the sawmill there and it was a nice set up to work under rain or shine! Not to mention a nice place to store the mill under cover. But before I could saw I needed to get the mill running as it has sat idle since last summer. I had bought a new sale priced battery so that was a plus. While connecting the battery I noticed that the squirrels had been chewing on some of the wiring and had chewed a small hole in the gas tank! Damn rodents and their destructive habit of chewing everything. I taped up the damaged wires as best I could. I then choked the engine and turned the key. The mill started almost immediately! I warmed it up some before ramping it up to full throttle. What a sweet noise and things were going well! I did notice some organic debris flying out of the engine compartment and fished a few pieces out but saw nothing to concern me. I managed to get all the planks sawed out from the salvaged power poles before stopping again for the day.

The next time I was at the farm I got the planks in place but lacked the 6” nails I needed to secure them. Not concerned I rolled a log onto the mill and got started with the making of my neighbor’s lumber. I did a second log but started being harassed by a bumblebee who seemed intent on getting inside the engine compartment. I soon learned that there was a nest inside and although only one bee was after me I could hear others inside buzzing away. The engine smelled a little hot also. It was time to rethink the whole situation. I built a crib to stack the lumber on to get it “stickered” up so it would dry properly. Lumber stacked on lumber will mold and a stain known as gray rot will discolor the lumber. Ants also love to occupy us stickered lumber piles. The crib took a little time to build but not knowing when my neighbor was planning on using the lumber it drove my decision to build it.

The cribbed lumber on 1×1 stickers.This was day two of sawing lumber.

The cool morning Thursday prompted me to dissemble the sawmill engine compartment. Easy with a socket set as there were only 8 bolts to remove. The bumblebees were silent so that was a plus. Upon removing the engine compartment shroud I discovered a large bees nest! I pulled most of it out in one piece and the bees began to buzz in earnest! I tossed it onto the ground and gave it a good stomping. Next I lit it on fire with my blowtorch. Mission accomplished! I finished cleaning out the remainder of the nest being sure to burn it as well. I also found a separate mouse nest that I removed and added to the smoldering honeycomb from the bees nest. Inside the engine compartment I found more chewed wires that I taped up. I reassembled the engine compartment after doing a thorough cleaning and inspection. Now I could actually start sawing again. Delays like this are quite often a daily occurrence around the farm so it’s best to just shrug it off and move forward. Nature sure does challenge all we create!

I quickly settled into sawing logs after that. I had fastened the planks down on Wednesday having purchased some 6” spikes from a local lumber yard. The gravity log loader system was a success and I used the tractor to set up the row of logs that would be rolled forward onto the mill. I was feeling pretty good at this point and glad that things were going smoothly. The mill was running smoothly and I lost myself to the task at hand to the roar of the 25 horsepower Robins Subaru engine. My hearing protection is a necessity as is eye protection. The slab wood was tossed over onto the tractor loader forks so it could easily be transported to outside the sugar house a short distance away. The plan had finally come together! Everything was in place to work quickly and efficiently. I lacked but one thing: a tailer. A tailer handles the slab wood and the finished lumber so the sawyer can keep the mill cranked up and making lumber. Zane will soon be working as my tailer and as my apprentice sawyer. He wants to learn the craft of making lumber. I often think of sawing lumber as creating and I will explain shortly.

Slab wood headed to the sugar house pile to be cut up later.

By late afternoon I was beginning to feel glimmers of fatigue. Our saw mill is very manual. It uses hydraulics for the blade tensioner only. Everything else gets done by hand. Rolling the logs on is done manually. Rotating the logs also manual. Manual raising and lowering head blocks. Head blocks hold the logs in place and must be adjusted several times while sawing a log. The log leveler rollers are also manual. As are the “dogs”. The dogs hold the log or cant firmly so it can’t move around. The high speed blade can easily break if a log gets loose. As for the “head” itself it consists of a frame, the engine, belts, pulleys,debark wheel, and the measurement gauge. Our mill uses a wheel and track head system to feed the blade into the log. The operator manually controls the feed rate by pushing the head assembly forward. It’s a very effective way to control cuts and minimize making poor lumber. There’s all sorts of further information about the mill itself but I feel that readers might find it boring. Suffice it to say that the Brubacher saw mill designers really put some thought into this small, portable band saw mill! Perhaps a instructional video some day might be in order!

A small white pine cant that just made 10 2×6’s. Note the track system that the head assembly rides along.

Making lumber is a wonderful workout for the upper body! The legs get some walking in but the upper body really does the most work. I like the bullish nature of such things and my mind will detour from worrisome meandering as I focus on the task at hand. There’s plenty of opportunities for injury so focus is a good word truly.As for the logs themselves they are truly unique. Tapered and sometimes crooked. The sawyer must read the log to make the most lumber from it. Mistakes are final in regards to dimensions as well after a cut is made. I was a little rusty at first but my mind soon entered the zone of kerfs and scales. The bandsaw blade makes an 1/8th inch cut each time. Kerf it’s called. The scale rule on the head allows for that kerf automatically as it’s built into the scale. Random cuts though involve adding the kerf to each measurement. Forget the kerf and the sawyer makes inferior non dimensional lumber. It’s easy once you train your mind to the process.Working in 1/8th increments isn’t too difficult after all.

The logs headed towards the mill on the gravity log loader. The short planks span the final 5 feet. Removed once a log is rolled onto the mill.

Getting set up finally on the farm for log sawing is a great accomplishment for me! Our location should provide years of efficient and save sawing. Of course I now have been thinking about a saw mill building to cover the location similar to the one we once had at our former home several miles away. Oh what a location that was! Acres upon acres of white pine to cull and utilize. But life happened and we moved to the farm property after our father’s unexpected death. We couldn’t hold all the property. Simple finances ruled the moment. That story is blended into these blog pages here and there. Perhaps redundant but redundancy can represent the importance of certain things I feel provided it’s not over done. It’s all connected this journey of mine regardless of where you jump into the stories. Backwards,forwards, and in the present. One event linked to another in a chain of events. Nature always near the forefront. Rural heritage learned and shared as it should be. It is a story of blood,sweat, and tears. Ordinary that sometimes becomes extraordinary. I don’t always know where the journey leads or what exactly comes next. I do know that when I embrace the push bar of the sawmill and crack the throttle I will be rewarded with fragrant sawdust in tune with a racing saw blade while the engine roars with powerful purpose. I’ve spent hours locked in these moments and the memories play like movies from the past. It’s never just sawing lumber. It is something far greater. For what limits what could be built or created with such a useful piece of machinery? What might rise on the farm property that could insure its legacy and that of mere individuals? As too why are we even sawing logs for our neighbor? That’s entirely another story. Yet to be told as it’s not finished. And time passes with every season and a sense of urgency sometimes stirs up the spirit energy. Not going there tonight.✍️

Coming Out Of Orbit

Posted on April 15, 2023April 16, 2023 by Greg Washburn

Sugaring season finally ended this week as temperatures hit the high seventies. Unseasonably warm for April. The time has passed in a blur since my last post but that’s just the norm for syrup season.Call it the daily grind of dedication where writing doesn’t occur.The comfortable orbit of routine held steady while things continued to slowly warm up after the third week of March. The snow steadily disappeared especially after a big rain storm one night.Things were transforming quickly!

It’s been a good season overall. The weather cooperated well with cool nights and days that rarely passed the mid forties initially. There was a persistent breeze from the north that held temperatures down and quite a few cloudy periods.Rather perfect for decent sap flow and our gathers remained fairly steady. The evaporator repairs held together and our syrup count increased with each boil. Things were getting done and we established an effective gathering strategy of our string that eventually reached 530 taps. We added several new mini-tubing runs on some hard to reach ridge lines and they produced well late into the season.Good sap runs would yield about 400 gallons of sap. We had a mixed crew to help with the gathering with people assisting as their schedules allowed.Patrick Bourcy creator of the Facebook group Just Go Outside brought his daughter Lilly over to help one Saturday and she had a blast! We had the gathering string figured out and always managed to get the work done. Feeling tired by the end of the day was to be expected but it was a good type of exhaustion! Some aspects of our seasonal hobby never change.

As the snow melted away it became very muddy and the sap haul roads were a mess! Pretty typical. We had to abandon our snowy shortcuts across the meadow and take the longer road route to avoid the mud. Things were beginning to look much different throughout the sugarbush with pockets of snow remaining in certain sections. Some of the trees began to run less sap and I decided that we would need to add some additional taps to keep the intake consistent. I chose some reserve trees in the two meadows on “the hill” as we call it. We would end up using the side by side to gather them to avoid meadow damage from the much heavier tractor. It worked out well.We chased the last of the snow into the sheltered pines where the sap ran clear and plentiful. Call it a boost into a new orbit of routine.

Chasing the snow to reach the reserve trees.

The signs began to show themselves as the season progressed. Yellow sap from the smaller maples and trees that shut down entirely. The larger maples of the string began to truly release their sap and held the sap quota fairly consistent. We began to start pulling a few nonproductive buckets along the string and Jen nicknamed them “ kicked buckets”. A name that stuck. Zane and I would sometimes work alone on the late gather after his school day had ended. I would yell “kick it” whenever I decided to pull a bucket. It’s a favorite beginning to several songs I like so that’s why I was doing it. He quickly tired of it even if I didn’t. Levity is an important part of making tedious work less boring I feel. A strategy I have used for years on the construction sites to survive the long days of often menial task. Zane and I would talk about all sorts of things while we worked. I enjoyed this part of my days. He’s my apprentice of all things rural heritage. He’s still young and has lots to learn but that’s the way of things.

Lids dropped in by gatherers. Sign for a kicked bucket.

I watched the weather forecasts closely and tried to gauge whether we would meet our goal of 100 gallons of syrup. 530 taps should have been plenty to accomplish that but the weather was changing quickly and sugaring is a fickle business at times. Years ago it was very different and the seasons seemed to last longer. The old timers rule of one quart of syrup per tap for the season no longer applies these days. 400 good taps can produce 100 gallons of syrup with an ideal season. We tap more these days to compensate for a much more compressed season. The quality of the syrup has been superb! Amber Rich grade held for much of the season but eventually the Dark Robust grade was reached towards the end. Very normal and we began filling the 30 gallon stainless steel commercial barrel to sell on the open syrup market. The commercial grade syrup will usually generate enough cash to cover our operating expenses. As I watched the forecast I realized that we might not hit 100 gallons of syrup. Time was short now. But one small window of opportunity was coming before the season reached its conclusion. 4 frosty nights and sunny warm days. I knew our old string would continue to produce sap but not enough. Kicked buckets were continuing to be brought in. We would need to call in further reserve trees for a few days.They would be scattered and few but they were available in the area we call “behind the barn”.

A huge reserve tree on the Tail End String.

I set out on a Thursday morning and pulled in 50 plus kicked buckets from the original string. The reserve tree string on the hill had been a good decision and they had ran well. They were time consuming to gather but kept a nice flow coming in. I knew it was a lot of work to tap more trees for just a few days of sap flow but was gambling for a payoff. I suppose part of me wasn’t ready for the season to end. That stubborn side that likes to achieve goals. Bullish and foolish at times. Prone to impulsive decisions that add more work to an already busy routine. I had considered the options carefully I felt so I set the plan into motion. Using the pulled kicked buckets I set tapped 54 new taps on some nice big survivor maples that had beat the 2016/2017 die off.They had once been part of a couple different strings that we had ran years ago. So spread out though that it wouldn’t make sense to tap them under normal circumstances. These were not normal circumstances. I called them the Tail End String.

Bringing in the kicked buckets to redeploy.

It was a very warm day for tapping and the sap burst from the fresh taps like it was under pressure. Very encouraging and I was fueled by the possibilities. 54 were added before Zane showed up to help gather the old string. We pulled in a bunch of kicked buckets and about all that remained were our mini-tubes. We left scattered buckets along the string that were still producing but our number of old taps was greatly diminished. The new plan was in place and the sun set on another day.

The weather cooperated and we were able to continue to bring in additional sap due to the new taps. Last Monday we brought in everything that had been our original string gathering sap along the way. The new taps were kept in until Tuesday for one final gather. The Tail End String was a success. Tuesday’s boil yielded a few gallons of super dark syrup that I plan to use in crafting our Moonbeams hard cider that we are working to create. Wednesday found me working late getting set up for the final boil where water is ran through the evaporator to push the final gallons of syrup sap through. The final boil yielded an additional 4 gallons of syrup by 10:30 pm before I literally tapped out and had to quit for the day. It was over! At least the tapping,gathering,and boiling part of sugaring. Next was the cleanup. Just another part of our labor intensive hobby!

In reflection I realize that this brief post doesn’t even cover the reality that was the syrup season of 2023. It doesn’t accurately describe the true emotions,the routine,or the mind numbing fatigue that ensued. But those things exist in other posts written in different times and under different circumstances. The true connections of this season still haven’t had time to completely catch up to me I feel. The magic happened and it exists in the numerous jugs of carefully crafted product that brings smiles to our customers faces. It lives in their comments to me. It lives in our hearts,photos, and in our memories. For in the midst of the conclusion of this sugaring season something more was thrown into our schedule by some sudden decisions. It’s destined for an upcoming post. It was a push but also successful in its purpose. Some things in life can not wait forever nor should the voice of spirit energy be ignored. The forward momentum begs its place in schedules.

The sugar house woodshed is almost empty! A sign of a successful season.

I dedicate this post to the members of the newly formed Macomb Sapsuckers Local 1545. A joke of sorts but one of recognition. Without the efforts of our volunteer gathering crew none of this would be possible. I thank Zane for stepping up and partnering with me. I thank Jen for pitching in for her fifth season of tireless assistance. They are the big two workers of our tiny operation. I also thank Rebecca and Randy Reynolds,Gail Gardner,Patrick and Lilly Bourcy,and Scott Force for helping us achieve our goals. I also thank our neighbor Tom whose woods produce a good portion of our sap. I cherish my unwritten agreement with him that we honor each season now. Fairness and honesty bring favorable outcomes. We truly shared some memorable moments together! As for me I am stronger and more fit then I was on February 27th. The first day. Proud of what we accomplished. Tired and ready for a break from the routine. And as securely grounded in my rural heritage as ever.We made things happen! Our tired iron held together once again. Who knows what comes next. But spring will come again next year and the sap will rise again. And I hope to be able to begin the whole process again.I leave you with my personal quote. “For each person there will be but a finite number of syrup seasons to enjoy ”.Best not miss them in my humble opinion.✍️

Up The Creek

Posted on January 23, 2023January 23, 2023 by Greg Washburn

January is moving along and the mild weather continues to surprise everyone. It hasn’t made for great ice walking but I have managed to get a little in despite of it.If you are new to the blog perhaps a journey back to a former post of mine might enlighten you as to the nature of ice walking. It is titled “Tales Of An Icewalker: Origins. I introduce myself there as The Icewalker. I learned many years ago the ease of travel on the flat frozen waterways that form each winter here in the St. Lawrence valley. This story is about a recent trip on Beaver Creek we took where I continue to teach my son Zane the beauty and perils of ice walking. Better to learn from the journeyman when you are an inexperienced apprentice. It turned into quite the adventure!

The section of Beaver Creek above the Lead Mine Road. Known to us as “up the creek”.

I decided to try the ice of Beaver Creek after we had experienced a couple cold nights right after the recent thaw. We had spent Saturday doing firewood and had returned the hauling trailer to the farm after unloading it Sunday morning at our customers house. I felt like doing something fun with Zane and suggested a hike down on Beaver Creek. Big Beaver we call it as too not get it confused with the nearby creek known as Little Beaver. Zane was eager to go and ready for the adventure. I mentioned that we would need beaver stick walking sticks if we were going to attempt to ice walk. We had some in the truck that were already shaped and had been used several times. Not to worry though as one of our hoarder sheds at the farm has dozens more if we were caught short. They would have needed work however and we had no time for that. It’s a job best suited for a workshop bench with plenty of tools on hand and heat. I miss the area we had at Hill House in the heated garage at those times. I chose to take two beaver sticks for the trek. Zane opted for none. But he has a lot to learn yet and would soon realize his mistake. Ice walking is a school of hard knocks. Zane did decide to bring along a propane torch though in case we needed a fire. Never a bad decision when ice walking but the trick is to keep your fire making tools dry! I mentioned to Zane that we weren’t properly equipped but given the short duration of our hike I wasn’t concerned. Plus there were two of us. An icewalker alone should always be prepared. I think it was starting to sink in with him. Maybe sink is a poor word when preparing to walk the ice!🤔

Beaver sticks in the rough. Trimming and sanding brings them to perfection!

We headed out behind our barn at the farm as I wanted to check a section of forest where we had harvested the older damaged trees some ten years ago. This would bring us to the very edge of the creek wetlands once we descended the ridge.The new growth was impressive to say the least. A mixed bag of hickory,maple, and some red oak. Our search of the forest also revealed huge amounts of invasive wild honeysuckles. They were overtaking the former open sections of the pasture at the edge of the forest. Bad news for the two of us hiking when we tried to force our way through them. We followed the edge of the wetland until we reached a section of pasture that we have begun to maintain. We had cleared it of dozens of the invasive shrubs a couple years back. It was easy hiking there as it’s relatively flat also. It soon became obvious that there was a lot of fresh beaver activity in the pasture.A maintained dam that bridged the wetland as well. It wasn’t a new location for a dam. There’s been beaver dams in that location over the years. It’s quite the feat that the beaver achieved damming the entire wetland gorge. The original creek channel is barely visible anymore. As dams go it’s not very high but the water it holds back extends far up the creek.

I knew from experience that we would have trouble accessing the ice of the main creek because of several springs that pepper the north side of the wetlands. They flow from underground at the base of the steep ridge that sits above the gorge. There’s about 5 of them in a mile stretch of the wetland.Even in the coldest of winters it’s a tricky area to venture out onto the ice. Zane and I explored the beaver activity and noticed signs of muskrats as well. I explained to Zane that this area had changed a lot over the years.It was decided that we would need to use the beaver dam to get out to the thicker ice where we wanted to hike. We struggled through more of the thick, choking wild honeysuckle while getting to the dam. Once we traveled the dam for a short distance we were able to access the ice. I used my beaver sticks to pound on the ice to check it for thickness before I stepped off the dam. Zane took a different approach and just jumped out in a nibble sliding motion. He’s much lighter then me so had less reason to worry. Out on the ice of the main pond the ice was gray and thicker. But as I pointed out to Zane there were numerous black sections that we needed to avoid. We needed more cold weather to truly freeze this swamp. I told Zane about the soft maple forest that had been here years ago.The original beaver dam flooded them and they all died. They stood for years like dry barren stalks before falling into the marsh and disappearing. I also to Zane that we owned some landlocked property in this area. About 4.4 acres that weren’t well marked. I knew there was an old fence that marked one boundary but the South shoreline was also choked with wild honeysuckle. We decided to search for it some other time.

We picked our way through the grassy bogs and avoided numerous weak spots in the ice. Lucky for us there was no snow on the ice. Otherwise I mentioned to Zane that I wouldn’t even be out there. It’s not deep water in most of the wetland but I pointed out the main channel sections where falling through wouldn’t be a good idea. We made it up the ice quite a distance before it became impassable. The wetland continues for another half a mile or so before narrowing down to a much smaller channel. Beaver Creek dumps into this section after going over an impressive small set of waterfalls. It was getting late and I mentioned to Zane that we wouldn’t be able to trek up further until the ice conditions improved. We had ventured past our property boundary also we were technically trespassing although the land wasn’t posted by the owners. We began searching for a way off the ice along the North shore but it began to look impossible. The 5th spring upstream and beaver activity was keeping the shoreline open with no ice to cross. We tried getting close to shore in a couple spots but it was futile. Zane suggested going back to our original point of entry and I acknowledged that possibility. But I decided to try a different approach first. We headed toward the 4th spring where I knew an old beaver dam intercepted. We reached the closest to shore that we had ever been but saw nothing but open water. I suddenly decided it was “bog hop”or bust. I started leaping from one clump of tag alder to the next. Sometimes I had to bend one down to reach the next clump. It was a winding and wavering course across the open water. Zane was trying to follow but haven’t some trouble. I almost pitched in headfirst at one point while balancing on a bending limb. Zane and I got to laughing at that moment! The whole thing got funnier when Gracie the dog broke through some thin ice trying to get to us. It was inevitable that someone would get wet I suppose. Zane and I both ended up going in over our boots. What a trip! I shot a funny video of Zane calling him an aspiring Icewalker. I didn’t think about my cold wet feet after that. I was lost to the happy moment!

The land beyond where we will return with good ice.

The beaver feeding activity along the shore was impressive! They were taking advantage of the underground spring runoff and the recent thaw to work the shoreline for food. Lots of chewed branches and fallen trees. The invasive honeysuckle would once again plague our forward progress as we headed back towards our open pasture land.

As we trekked back to the truck we laughed about our exploits. The road up from the wetland took us up the steep ridge and gave us some late day views of it. We could retrace our recent steps far above the marsh. I told Zane stories of my years of exploring “up the creek”. It’s a place of ever changing events. Vanished forests and invasive species. Wildlife in constant motion surviving the rigors of a northern New York winter. It’s a beautiful place for a new generation Icewalker to get his feet wet literally. It had been an epic trek for us. We are waiting now for the cold weather to seal the wetland shut under a layer of thick ice. We will return to explore up the creek sometime before spring I hope. I want to show Zane the “Big Spring”. Number 5 I called it. It’s impressive in itself. But I want to show him more out there on the ice. There’s fast travel out from brushy shores and rocky forest ridges. Ice walking on the big creek has its risks but the benefits outweigh those risks I feel. Be prepared for anything. It’s easy to fall through I’ve learned. Now it’s time to teach Zane the way of an Icewalker. Beaver Creek is a beautiful and magical place for me. I will always want to trek its frozen surface. For now we wait for the big freeze. ✍️

Growth Rings

Posted on December 5, 2022December 16, 2022 by Greg Washburn

December is coming in mild after the recent cold snap and snow of November. We got about 14 inches during that lake effect event that reached up into St. Lawrence County. Some parts of New York got record amounts. It was a surprise after the mild weather that we have been enjoying all autumn. I am taking advantage of the bare ground at the farm property to do some forest cleanup in an upper section that was formerly part of our sugarbush. Most of the trees have died off and we harvested heavily in this area a couple years ago. I called this area The Upper Landing. I started burning up the rotten remnants of the large log pile that once occupied the site. The entire area was a mess of downed limbs and miscellaneous debris. I took down a massive dead maple that was a threat to the trail system. It was a sad moment for me. We had tapped this giant many times over the years. It’s gnarly trunk was riddled with old healed tap holes. It fell with an earth shaking crash and exploded into numerous fragmented pieces. I stood for a moment and gazed at the diameter of the stump. The connection was made.

The stump of the felled maple was over 3 feet in diameter. I could only guess at it’s age and it’s rotten outer layers offered no countable growth rings. Not familiar with them? I will explain them quite simply. Growth rings are the marker of tree growth during a one year period in temperate climates. Visible on a tree stump they form a pattern. The lighter outlines represent the start of that season’s growth. The darker outlines represent the end of season growth. They are never identical and a history of a particular season is left there.I can’t remember when my dad first introduced me to growth rings.Sometime when we were cutting wood at the farm most likely. But they have become a glimpse into time and the life of the forest for me. The unfortunate part of growth rings is that you never get to study them until the tree is cut down! Nature leaves us clues there and a place to reflect on ourselves even.

We are just past the two year anniversary of the blog site’s creation. 11/20/20 the first ever post went up. It was titled Bog River Flow. The administrator and creator of this site pulled it from a Facebook post of mine. The rest have followed with no pattern or storyline. Curvy and winding in unsymmetrical circles like the growth rings of a tree stump. It’s been a fun experience and one of learning for me. As I revisit my former posts I look for signs of growth. The blog site hasn’t changed much overall in two years but that’s about to change. I am constantly researching history and fact as they apply to the locations I visit on my personal journey. I continue to search for connection and a better understanding of nature. I am dredging the stories of my life from my memories and saving them here to share. I hope to bring people together in our common love of nature. Each year I hope to show growth however how large or small it might be.
Zane and I were recently in Virginia visited my cousin and his family over Thanksgiving week. My cousin and friend Gerry just happens to be my administrator and creator of this site! He’s the shadow behind all that makes this possible! We are working on upgrading the site and adding a comments section. I hope you will that advantage of that new feature! I will be personally reviewing all comments and would love to hear from you! If you happen to know me feel free to say hello! Look for a subscription page soon where you can receive updates on recent posts and other MOONTABS information.

I ask for your continued patience and support as we work to bring you the best MOONTABS experience ever

Held In Trust

Posted on November 3, 2022November 17, 2022 by Greg Washburn

It’s another chilly November morning here at the house on Black Lake where I will be living for the winter. I will be calling it “The Duplex” from now on.It’s another temporary home for me now that the travel trailer is parked. The Airstream has been winterized and sits on a large concrete pad near the house. It’s difficult to say where it will be headed next or even when. No sooner then May realistically.It sits waiting to become my rolling home again.At the moment covered in a thin layer of snow. Held in trust for now and waiting for adventure.

It’s been a busy time since returning from my Adirondack sojourn and writing has been down the list unfortunately. I made two lists soon after arriving home and have been trying to knock them out every since. Lists are a great tool for achieving short term goals provided a person doesn’t make them too extensive. I have a tendency to do that even though I know that’s not a good idea. The good news is that quite a few things have been crossed off those lists! Things can often get postponed but usually get done.I started the rough draft of this post two weeks ago! Other subjects ended up jumping ahead and now things have gotten out of sequence. MOONTABS is like one of those time travel series on Netflix where it’s hard to keep up sometimes.

Awhile back Zane and I were getting some things out of the storage container at the farm. It’s 20 foot long and about 8 feet wide. Fully packed with contents from our former Hill House. Furniture,books, and antique furniture. Kitchen items and cookware. Camp Edith is pretty well furnished so we didn’t need to move much there in the spring of 2021. I can’t say for sure when and where all the stuff will end up being used but I am not ready to part with all of it. It’s being held in trust for now I suppose. The fire of 2012 changed the way I view things. I have gotten strange about having everything in one location. There’s a bigger story there to share sometime.

While we were in the storage container we uncovered our old cider press. Zane started reminiscing about it and how we hadn’t used it in a long time. He asked if we were going to make cider this fall and I gave him a rather vague answer. We had to move it outside to get at the items we were after and Zane continued to mention making cider. I was too focused on the task at hand to think about much else. We got the things we needed moved outside and I asked Zane to help me move the cider press back into the container. He surprised me by saying no! “It’s going to camp” he said. “Otherwise we will never use it.” I reluctantly agreed to his request and the cider press was loaded onto the truck with all its accessories. As we drove back to Camp Edith I realized it had been 3 years since we had last made cider. Time sure had passed by. Zane was right and had made a wise decision I decided. Things had been set in motion thanks to him.

The story of the cider press itself spans several decades. Let’s jump back for a moment. It’s the late 1980’s and I am living in the old farmhouse on Lead Mine Road that was my first purchased home in 1983. It had belonged to my Uncles and had been part of the Archie Downing farm at one time. My Uncles had rented it out for years since the 70 plus acre property had been purchased sometime in the 1970’s. I was renovating it and had been fortunate to purchase the 22.6 acres across the road from it that had been part of the original farm. I was very in tune with my rural heritage at that time. Hunting,fishing,and trapping. Working as an electrician and getting time off whenever I could wrangle it. I spent a lot of time just down the road at my father’s farm helping out. It was a busy life and I lived close to the land. I had a garden. Raised a meat pig each summer. It’s no surprise that I would soon discover the fun hobby of making cider.

At the time my best friend has an adopted second cousin of mine. He was two years younger and we shared many common interests. One fall day he mentioned having made cider with some people he knew near his home. We gathered up some miscellaneous apples and brokered a deal with them to make some cider for ourselves. Their cider press was ancient but fully functional. The whole process was new to me and I was fascinated with it. We came away with several gallons of cider. I also came away with the thought that I needed a cider press of my own. The search was on in a time when the internet didn’t exist and paper catalogs were the source for locating such things. Ads in magazines were a good source as well. I can’t say for certain where or when I found the ad for a cider pressing kit that could be purchased. But I had found one!It was time to get serious!

The company who sold the cider press kit was called Happy Valley Ranch. They still market cider presses today and the designs haven’t changed from what I can see. The prices have increased since 1989 but that came as no surprise. What confuses me is that I thought that my cider press came from Oklahoma for some reason. Happy Valley Ranch is located in Alabama currently. I am going to call them and ask them some questions! I wrote a review on their website this morning. I am waiting to see if they post it. Regardless the company still exists and still makes the “Homesteader” model that we own. I can attest to its quality after 33 years of owning it.

I ordered the cider press sometime in May of 1989. It was over $800 by the time I got it shipped if my memory is correct. It was delivered by UPS truck in two large and very heavy boxes. The kit contained all the wooden components,cast iron parts,and all the necessary hardware. The maple framework pieces were solid maple of excellent quality. They certainly didn’t use any junk hardwood. I was recovering from an acute appendicitis when it arrived. I wasn’t supposed to be doing any work but wasn’t good at following doctors orders and was totally bored being stuck at home. I got some of the kit parts inside and began assembling it. The wood that made up the frame was maple and it needed to be treated with a food grade preservative. The manufacturer had recommended this and sold an aerosol spray as an accessory.One application was recommended but I bought two cans so I was certain that I would have enough. It was a good decision and one that I have never regretted. I used all the spray in two different applications taking time to dry the pieces between. The finish has lasted for years and our press still looks great after 33 years! The treated pieces were assembled inside the house and taken out to my garage. It took some time to complete the assembly and it was a great way to stay busy during my recovery. The doctor wouldn’t let me return to work till July but by the end of June I had helped my father get most of his haying done. Physical therapy comes in many forms! The completed cider press sat in my garage covered and up on blocks. Cider season was months away.

Autumn came quickly after a busy summer of working at Newton Falls paper mill in the Adirondacks. I had camped some while working there and had worked a lot of overtime during the different phases of the project. My annual strategy at the time.I was ready for a break so I took a layoff in October. I stayed busy getting my firewood done,hunting,and later trapping. I lived a very cost effective lifestyle and never worried much about money. It’s funny how things changed so many years later. But that’s a different set of chapters and is not important in this story. It does serve as a solid foundation of my desire to live in the season and in the moment. I was trying to manage and manipulate time. Still figuring things out. In that time and now my new hobby had gotten into motion and we were learning how to use the press.A new chain of events was being forged.

I don’t remember all the details of the first time we used the press and all my photos from then were destroyed in the fire of 2012. I don’t think anyone else has any either. But I do remember many things about that fall fortunately. My friends and I scoured the countryside for apples every chance we got! My bestie had a nice Macintosh apple tree behind his house trailer and we picked it clean. Those apples made fabulous cider especially when we blended in the tarter wild apples we found on an old homestead near there. Things were very different in 1989 where we lived. There were less houses and an abundance of unposted vacant land. We searched all the old farms we could find looking for apples. Getting permission when we could or just wandering unposted property. These days that would never be able to happen. We found trees right next to the backroads sometimes and stripped them of their small apples. The cider was tart from those feral apples so we experimented with blending apples as we ground them. We washed the apples first at my house where we made all of the cider. We usually were a group of three to four so that made the task easier. We split up the jugs of cider and I froze a lot of mine. We were young men in our mid to late twenties and liked to party some when we closed out the day making cider after dark under the outside lights in front of my garage. It was a fun and memorable time for us! One memory stands out!

It was November and getting much colder. We found some late hanging apples somewhere that were still in good condition despite the lateness of the season. They were golden colored and rather small. Tart but with enough sweetness to make a decent run of cider we figured. The night we decided to run them through the press it was very cold! Well below freezing and almost uncomfortable. The cider that flowed from the press was crystal clear has it hit the draw off catch basins. On warm days the cider comes off brown as soon as the air hits it. This cider was very different! I had begun experimenting with making a fermented concoction in my refrigerator with different batches of cider. It took about 3 weeks in the fridge to brew out a somewhat alcoholic beverage we starting calling “hooch”. (Hoochinoo is a word used by the Tlingit indigenous people from Alaska to refer to their fermented beverages made from fruit). We also knew that Hooch was a bootlegger prohibition term and we liked that comparison. I never tested our hooch for alcohol content but it was a lot like beer. We quickly learned not to overindulge on our tasty hooch however. It had a wonderful cleansing quality if you catch my drift! Sorry if I offend anyone with stories of drinking alcohol here! I promised honesty and directness on this site. Not to mention making the hooch would be leaving out a certain twist of the tale. This is why…

The wonderful clear cider from the November pressing gave me an idea. It was never allowed to reach room temperature and was placed directly into the fridge that evening. It stayed clear and after about 3 weeks began to have a effervescence to its content. We were amazed at the quality of this run of hooch! Bubbly and tingly to the tongue! It was like a sparkling wine resembling champagne almost! Very smooth! We made made it quite by accident and were never sure whether it was the apples themselves or the clear cider that made this special batch! We truly enjoyed it though! It was also special as it was the last batch of the season that fall. We had kept track of our progress each time we pressed. We were using one gallon repurposed plastic jugs so it was easy to keep the count. We had pressed 75 gallons that first season! The press had exceeded my expectations in so many ways! And it was only the beginning of a hobby that would follow me through time.

I have decided to leave the story here for the moment. There is more to this story that should be told with accuracy and detail. The fact that we even have the cider press still is a miracle. It was stored in a location that survived the fire of 2012. That makes it even more special. It also connects the dots to the outcome of part two of this series. The title of this posts sums things up well I feel. A possession that has been held in trust for over 3 decades. I hope the cider press will be around for many years and continue to provide memories for everyone who uses it. We take precautions these days to protect those objects that allow us to engage in our hobbies. It’s good to know that cider presses are still being produced. It’s also good to know that we have resumed our hobby once again!✍️

They Come In Waves

Posted on October 13, 2022October 13, 2022 by Greg Washburn

Thursday morning. Day 12 here at Fish Creek State Campground.Well not exactly! I was gone for 3 days recently on a mini adventure. I hit the Northway South with the pedal down and the music loud. The full grandeur of the autumn transition surrounding me as the turbos sang and the ponies ran under the hood. I suppose it’s a paradox this love of horsepower and steel to a lover of nature. I surely do appreciate a finely tuned piece of machinery though. I hope to ride the torque driven feel of full electric some day. On the slippery slopes of climate change and our unrelenting need for natural resources it’s difficult to fathom at times where everything is headed. It’s all about making decisions and following through with them. That’s something I do understand. But this post is about life and adventure not sticky subjects. The adventure? South to the land of Moonies,cornfields, and history. A place where hooting owls and night skies lit by a full moon would connect the dots of mysterious positive energy. But that is another story for another time.

The days here at Fish Creek have been full and meaningful I’d have to say. A mix of paddling and hiking followed by nightly fires. Meals are sporadic at times and I cook when the mood strikes me. This morning breakfast was in order so I cooked sausage,eggs, and pancakes. The wind is fierce today and it was challenging outside cooking on the griddle.Nothing some carefully placed aluminum foil couldn’t cure. Camping is not supposed to easy anyway. I had made a simple dinner last night since I was beat from paddling in the waves getting back to camp. Oh yes! The waves! Over deep,dark water they provide a powerful connection to nature.

I had watched the weather forecast and knew that outdoor adventure would be difficult if not ill advised today. High winds and rain were heading into the region. The winds had begun yesterday and it had been difficult paddling but still very rewarding. Seeing the loons and the mink had sealed the deal for me. My aches today were well earned and I don’t mind them. The wind would wake me several times last night as pine cones pinged off the roof of the Airstream like mini drumbeats. Camping under the huge pines is not without risk I suppose. I have good insurance I thought and had drifted back to sleep. The large stand of pine surrounding the camper are strong and sturdy. They remind me of a family in their grouping. Each one makes the others stronger and helps protect the group. I don’t worry too much camping under them at any rate.

By daybreak the wind had increased and the gusts kept getting stronger. White caps were driving into the shore with powerful surges. 10:53AM now and things are still ramping up. If it was a warm summer day I would be paddling out in my kayak to greet the waves. I love to paddle up through whitecaps then spin around and surf on top of them in the kayak. It’s a rush of horsepower of a different type. It challenges the body but it’s very exciting! “Flat Slapping” the surface of the water with the kayak paddle when the waves attempt to flip you over. In warm summer water in a life vest there’s nothing to fear and usually I have the body of water to myself. I haven’t done it this season but I have tackled some decent sized waves a couple times. These whitecaps here today are cold looking and uninviting. I’d rather stay in here and write while watching them!

I have always loved the power of water even when it’s calm. Running water is a powerful force of nature that stirs emotion and imagination. I love hiking to waterfalls and sections of rapids here in the north country. We are blessed with numerous and diverse waterways. In a watercraft fighting the current to paddle upstream or against the waves is a humbling experience and invites physical challenge. Running with the current and on the waves invites feelings of a different nature. I have spoken with Zane about my desire to take a whitewater paddling class and go out with a licensed guide on the Hudson river up here in the Adirondacks. We have picked our person and location but missed the window of opportunity for this season. Sometimes I feel like I shouldn’t introduce my son to such an activity but he’s one to tell me if it’s not his thing. Ice climbing was like that! We both agreed that it might not be our favorite new hobby. It was fun though! To me the lover of raw horsepower whitewater may offer something more then a thrill seekers adrenaline rush. Can’t say for sure just yet but I have a feeling. I chase those feelings and they rarely disappoint me.

I have strayed far from my original story but the wind is increasing and the waves are getting bigger by the minute. This camping adventure has brought some wonderful moments into the MOONTABS journey. There is but one autumn 2022 and I have tried to live it well. Four successful hikes since being here. Ampersand the best and most challenging then Goodman and Coney Mountains back to back one day last week. Mount Arab on Tuesday this week. Hey wait! Did I just complete the Tupper Lake Triad a second time? I hadn’t planned on doing that. They are great small hikes that I recommend them given the wonderful autumn views of the surrounding region. I enjoyed each of the hikes but Coney Mountain would offer up something else!

I had completed Goodman Mountain but hadn’t stayed long there as some kind of ladybugs were hanging out on the summit and crawling all over me. Not biting just annoying. I decided to do Coney Mountain as a second mountain for the day as plenty of daylight remained. I was feeling pretty strong and hard charged the trail. I even jogged up for awhile. Rare these days but something Zane and I did many times. On the Marcy Dam trail ( the Interstate to us) we would always run on the way in and on the return. Laughing and jumping roots along the way! Passing other hikers who thought us crazy. I suppose we were to a degree. Happy and super fit it was easy even with a 40 pond pack. It was epic! I don’t run so well since my pelvic injury but I am practicing my new style. I land somewhere between a young Forrest Gump and an Olympic sprinter. Probably closer to the young Forrest Gump to be honest. I have made strides though with no pun intended. I won’t stop trying to improve my distance challenges or my conditioning. There are many trails remaining that lead to lofty summits where the buzz sits waiting for me. I had to mention the running thing. Things have changed. Call it a new wave I had to surf.

On the Coney Mountain trail I overtook a couple hiking. We were taking their time and picking their through the hazards. Always a good idea. They both had trekking poles which is good.I feel they reduce the risk of injury. The woman greeted me and asked about my beaver stick trekking poles. “Did you find those at the trailhead?” she asked with a curious tone. “No I made them” I replied. We began talking after that while everyone caught their breath. We exchanged names so it’s time for new characters! Enter John and Elaine! I liked their friendly open demeanor immediately and their interest in my beaver sticks. I was suddenly swept up by an impulsive thought! I would offer to give them one of my trekking sticks. It was one that I had trail tested and trusted but it wasn’t one of my favorites. But it was a nice one so I offered to leave it under their car after hiking the mountain. John said “How do you know we won’t get back first?”. We all laughed at that one! I bide them a temporary goodbye and resumed the hike with a renewed vigor. I sure do love talking to people I thought. Hearing bits of their stories! I summited quickly after a brief push for the top. There were three people on top. A quiet young man who had hiked up in a pair of Crocs. Not my choice of footwear. I didn’t engage in conversation with him as his eye contact and body posturing indicated a desire for privacy. There was an artist hard at work off to the side but I left her to her work as it appeared she was on a roll painting the beautiful valley that lay beyond her easel. There was also a young lady whom I had passed on the Goodman trail and recognized. We said hello to each other and chatted briefly. Most people are friendly on the summits and ones who aren’t I leave in peace. Everyone has their own reasons for being there and we don’t know what someone might be wrestling with or trying to overcome. Think positivity and kindness.

It was getting later and I wondered if John and Elaine had turned back because she had mentioned a sprain in her leg. I decided to go catch up with them in case they had needed to return rather then summit. I had been busy while on the summit. I wasn’t carrying my usual pack and had noticed that I had a black Sharpe in one of my compartments. Hmmm… beaver stick with poly preservative on its surface. A Sharpe. A promise to give the stick to them. Time on my side. It all added up quickly! But could I remember the beaver stick poem that I usually offer with a gifted stick?It took a minute but luckily it’s short and sweet. It was the perfect setting for adding a flair to the gift. I took my time writing on the stick and only made one small mistake. Too bad I didn’t have sandpaper with me too! I added some personal information about MOONTABS and signed the stick with a custom greeting.It was time to get moving!

I began a quick descent and hadn’t gone far before I met John and Elaine working their way up the trail with steady determination. I jokely remarked that I had thought they had tapped out! We laughed about that! I said you better take the stick now just in case. We got to talking more and I was realizing the time of day. I said I will walk back up to the summit with you. Elaine began talking to the artist and John sat on the summit talking with me. John had a great story to tell and I wanted to hear more.Elaine joined us eventually and we took some photos together. John said “ I better keep this beaver stick safe! It will be worth something some day!”We laughed about that especially when I said “John you might be freezing some day and that stick will make good firewood!” The power of the now surrounded us there on Coney Mountain as the setting sun appeared on the horizon. Time was speeding past and it was time to get moving.

Elaine wanted to stop and talk with the artist who had finished her painting. It was stunning and she had been working on it a mere 5 hours! I learned her name was Sandra Hildreth. A local artist of repute. I asked her permission to use her name here. Please check out her work! She has an office in the village of Saranac Lake. We decided to make sure she got down the mountain safely. Something I had already decided to do for John and Elaine. We began our cautious descent and the conversations ran wild as darkness began to blanket the lower forest. Sandra blew past us in a hurry to get to a meeting. Time stood still and I was enjoying the story of John and Elaine. At one point Elaine said something about not getting hurt. I joked and said if you get hurt I will go Forrest Gump in the jungle and run you on out of here! Pretty funny! We hit the end of the trail and said our goodbyes but not before promising to stay in contact. What a remarkable day that had started so ordinary. But it’s never ordinary when I meet extraordinary people and share in moments. I was touched by strange emotions on my drive back. Waves of them. Then I almost hit a deer and got back to reality!

The wind has picked up and the rain is pelting the Airstream. I will be staying in today and using the shower in the camper. There will be no evening campfire later. I have everything I need here in my home on wheels for the moment.Food,music, heat, and running water. My phone,my tablet, and books. The waves are hitting hard on the shoreline outside the camper. It’s a solid now moment and a part of this lifestyle. My imagination can run wild at times. They come in waves these stories of mine and wash up on the shores. Life comes in waves too. Sometimes floating and sometimes sinking. We have to learn how to swim that’s all. Waves are yet another connection to nature.

Oh btw! Remember Mr.Jangles? He is alive and well after our strike on his headquarters. Apparently he has recruited allies here in the Adirondacks! I have been under attack for days now. Chipmunks and red squirrels messing with my truck and my lawn furniture.There’s signs of a party left behind on my picnic table! Good thing the Airstream is all metal otherwise they would have gotten in. I guess if they were truly malicious they would have chewed through my brake lines. Maybe they have! Can’t check today in this rain. Maybe I can recruit the mink I saw yesterday. It would a formidable adversary to take to Canada next summer. I don’t know if it likes to travel though. It might get car sick. Not sure about getting it across the border either. These things can be worked out I suppose. They say deeds are more important then words. How about a big helping of both? The waves have begun to lay down some and tomorrow is another day.

I dedicate this post to John, Elaine, and all the good people I meet out on the trails. The hooting owl doesn’t represent death as some people think. It represents wisdom and understanding. It represents change and new beginnings. We don’t have to search for such things. Time brings them and they come in waves.✍️

No Autumn Plans?Hike Ampersand!

Posted on October 4, 2022October 5, 2022 by Greg Washburn

Autumn is moving along quickly here in the Adirondack Park. The leaves continue to change everyday now and many are being dropped now. They litter the forest floor with colorful patterns that call to the observant hiker. It was Monday October 3,2022 and I was waiting for my cousin Jen at the trailhead to Ampersand Mountain in the empty parking lot. She had asked me days earlier if I had time to hike Monday.Perfect timing I had told her! Yes I would love to go!I hadn’t needed to travel far from my nearby campsite at Fish Creek Ponds State Campground so I had arrived ahead of schedule. I took a few minutes and double checked my small pack one final time. I readied my beaver stick trekking poles also. I was ready!

The beaver stick trekking poles I mentioned are nothing more then sticks that the beaver had eaten the bark from and abandoned. Bark is the favorite food of beaver. They must get plenty of fiber!The beaver sticks are super strong and flexible depending on the species of tree that had been cut. I trim them to length if necessary but quite often find ones that are perfect and require only a little work. I clean any dirt or mud from them before I trim off any sharp edges and any excess bark that the beaver missed. I sometimes treat them with polyurethane to preserve them. A superior one that is unique is added to my personal collection where it waits for special attention. I wood burn on them sometimes to mark certain occasions or dates. To gift a hand crafted one to someone is something I enjoy! I hope to write a post just about beaver sticks someday and have added it to the promised story list. I carry two beaver stick trekking poles to maintain balance and agility. I also use them to help propel myself up the steep sections of the trails. If ever needed they would also make a formidable set of weapons. They are all natural and I find a connection to nature in them. When I firmly grasp them I am truly ready to hike!

The Ampersand Mountain trailhead is very easy to find because it’s right beside NYS Route 3 between the villages of Tupper and Saranac Lakes. It’s a rather small pull off that fills up quickly most days. There’s always room alongside the highway though so that helps with the overflow. I had packed light for the short hike. Water, energy bars, and a partial jar of peanut butter. Peanut butter became a stable when hiking the high peaks several years ago.We ate it plain with just a spoon most of the time. It’s a good energy food that’s simple to carry. I had a winter hat and extra clothing as well. But I was far short of the survival gear pack that I carry backcountry. I suppose that mindset could be considered not being prepared. It would have to do as my big pack had been left behind at Camp Edith.

For clothing I dress in layers and none of them are ever cotton! Yesterday I was wearing a dry weave t-shirt, fleece zip up, with an insulated vest to top off my layers. Basic hiking pants and my old trusted Merrell brand hiking boots. These hiking boots just wouldn’t wear out but several extremely high mileage years had taken a toll on them! I use them for special occasions now because I just don’t want to retire them yet. I tried a set of Keen’s but was rather disappointed with that model’s durability. Comfort was never an issue though. I bought a new set of Keen hikers today to give the brand another chance. Different sole style so I will see! Most of the hikers in my truck are Merrill’s. Yes I travel with several pair! You don’t drive without a spare tire so why would you hike without a spare set of hiking boots close by?

Enter a new character: my cousin Jennifer.She arrived ahead of time to the parking area and we exchanged simple greetings as we prepared our gear for departure.Jen is married with two teenage boys.She grew up with her sister, father, and mother on the Washburn homestead property in Macomb. She is 18 years younger then me and we didn’t see each other much when she was growing up even though we lived on the same road. Time changes things and eventually we saw more of each other however.I attended her wedding and would see her at the Washburn family reunions twice a year. When she became an avid hiker we began to talk more frequently. Especially after I joined Facebook in 2018 and began writing there.We had talked of hiking together but had never been able to coordinate because of logistical issues. Work mainly. This day was spontaneous and not planned months in advance. Call it a grand alignment event if you have an imagination and believe in strange twists of fate. The power of circumstances and decisions made with a gut feeling. Either way I was happy that we would be hiking together! Why make everything heavy and overthink the moment?

Jen and her family are outdoor enthusiasts to the max! They enjoy a variety of different sports and activities across all four seasons. Jen and her husband Adam are working together to become ADK 46ers.They are making substantial progress and I enjoy following their story! Jen is the hands and the inspiration behind the Instagram page: Hunterfamilyoutdooradventures. They live a full and busy life! Their story is interesting and unique so please join them as they live the outdoor dream! I can relate to them in so many ways!Jen’s gift for photography truly brings their journey to life! I admire the page for its detail in portraying a family enjoying their love of nature and adventure. There is love and positivity in their journey. A great place to connect with like minded individuals! Check it out!

Ampersand Mountain is not one of the ADK high peaks but what it lacks in height it makes up for with views! At 3352 feet its bare rock summit offers a 360 degree view of some beautiful sections of the park. Some of the high peaks are right there in front of you at the summit. The Seward Range being the most prominent. In the other direction you get fantastic views of the Saranac Lakes and St. Regis waterways. The 1,765 feet of gain that is ascended to summit Ampersand is rated tough by the Alltrails app. I suppose that depends on your personal definition of tough. The trail is an in/out and fairly short at 5.4 miles round trip.The final ascents are tricky in a couple spots but easy to negotiate.With sturdy hiking boots and trekking poles most hikers will have no difficulty. Micro spikes aren’t a bad idea for the final portion of the trail either. Wet rocks are always tricky regardless of your level of skill in my opinion. I want to get myself off the mountain by not being injured. My advice is always be cognitive of potential hazards. The rewards of most summits are worth a little effort and risk in my opinion. Ampersand is one of those mountains.I rate it: better do it or you are missing out!

The trailhead lies just across Route 3 from the parking area and is very well maintained. It meanders rather smoothly at first through stands of large maples and hemlocks. There are several tiny streams that are bridged or timbered across. One section has a small raised boardwalk that sits above lush and colorful ferns. Autumn is kissing them a golden color and when the sunshine hits them they are stunning! Yesterday the canopy above was garnished with many different stages of color. The transition is underway and many leaves have fallen but most are still held fast. Some remain green even. It depends on their species where they enter into the transition. The soft maples (red) are shedding their brilliant red leaves quickly. The aspen (popple) are lagging behind and just becoming yellow. The other species are in varying degrees of change and no two trees are identical. Autumn is a time of sensory overload for me. It’s difficult to absorb everything with so much color everywhere. I find it’s best sometimes to just stand still and wait for things to show themselves. There is life everywhere. Tiny plants and seedlings. Many have ended their annual growth cycle and are preparing to go dormant until spring. The falling leaves will be their protective blanket under the snow that will arrive here shortly. The forest is a place of death as well. Broken trees and limbs cover the forest floor. Stumps and leaning deadfall’s. Dead trees standing and waiting for their time to return to the earth. The layers of dead leaves continue build up and cover some them as well. But nothing is wasted in the forest. Mosses and decomposers cover the dead trees and fallen trees. The decomposer fungi are everywhere once you train your eyes to spot them and recognize their importance in the bigger picture. There are numerous species of them in the Adirondacks. Many are edible even! After attending two mycology seminars I decided that viewing them is to be preferred over collecting them! “Look a likes” can be deadly and toxic! We stick to our favorites in the valley. It’s interesting how the dead wood benefits so many other life forms. There is a profound connection in the the cycle that repeats itself over and over. For me it’s a humbling reminder of my place in the order of things.My place of existence within the circle of nature. It’s not an unhappy moment. To accept our life cycle is to learn. To learn is to grow. A walk through the forest is never boring or lacking in details. In the smallest of clues nature leaves puzzle pieces. They fit only one way and take time to assemble. Decades for me. Harmony with nature surrounds the casual hiker. That moment when the senses align and a certain peace arrives. It can be a powerful lesson of living in the now.

Jen and started out from the sunny,warm parking and entered the forest trail. I was immediately struck by the change in temperature and regretted not wearing gloves. Jen took the lead and despite our brisk pace I felt cold. Prepared? Not so good I decided! We moved quickly and the trail remained fairly flat with only a few hills to crest. We stopped to take pictures of certain things. The rising sun through the trees and colorful leaves. Glacial erratics sprinkled here and there like game pieces in a giant’s marble toss. Eventually the land began to rise and the ascents started. We reached the site of an old structure. There’s almost nothing remaining of the stone foundation and it’s difficult to discern. There’s an old rusty sink in the center and some rusty pipes. I mentioned to Jen that I thought that this was a hermit’s cabin site once. I later learned that my facts are askew. These was my third hike up Ampersand over the years and I remembered a descriptive plague that was once here. Gone now. History disappears too quickly sometimes.Regardless it was a beautiful spot with a tiny flow of running water and a somewhat flat spot on the forest ridge. There would be answers at some point to fill in the blanks.

The land continued to rise and we kept up our steady pace unless we were taking photos. We encountered another couple and had a great conversation. They were familiar with Jen’s hometown. In fact they lived there part of the year and frequently went to a common restaurant. It’s a small world as they say! Great conversations Dan and Deb! We soon entered a section of the trail that I refer to as the steps. A steep rise with many rocks that trail stewards had wrestled into place somehow. It must have taken many hours to build the staircases. There are a couple sets of the way to summit Ampersand. Many hikers have benefited from the stewards hard work and I remembered some pictures I seen of some of them. These cats were strong and solid! Men and women who proudly poised beside their lasting legacy of hard work. I suddenly realized that I was no longer cold and mentioned that to Jen. Me either she said! Off through the trees we could see evidence of our continued elevation gain. Glimpses of what was to come. The sun was warming the forest and our exertions were warming us quickly.I felt a burst of new found energy in the moment. Nothing new and I embraced the feeling for what I recognized. Empowerment in strong physical experience that was well within my body’s capabilities. In that moment I push for what lies beyond. The buzz that waits for me on the summit. I can remember hikes with Zane where it eluded me and I wondered how I would ever make it to the top. Then the energy would hit from some unknown source.It’s seems like a carburetor thing after a certain point. A mix of emotion, air, and inner energy that the mind sends to the muscles. The muscles will obey the mind long after they sound their warning. I wasn’t worried. This short hike would never require me to summon my inner zombie unless I was injured. Best avoided always but never out of a hiker’s equation.

Enter a new character. My invisible friend known as my inner zombie. His story is my story at a different level. I must accredit the author Jack London for the idea behind creating the force that I call my inner zombie. His fictional story of a lost and stranded individual moved me many years ago when I first read it as a boy. It’s a wonderful read for those with adventurous spirits. My story will be best represented by telling of some of our high peaks quests. Post pelvic surgery days for me mostly but there were many other times!My inner zombie was safely slumbering yesterday and that’s where I wanted him. He needs his rest because when he’s summoned it gets a little rough on my body.It’s not as strange as it sounds! I enjoy assigning names and titles to many things. Another story now added to the promised list and I am going to have fun writing that one! My inner zombie is a beast and one glutton for punishment. I can always count on him though. I finally know that the 1.5 percent Neanderthal DNA I carry is good for something!

Jen and I were both really enjoying our physical challenge of the ever rising trail. There were many more rocks now to scramble and the forest was transitioning into evergreens and smaller deciduous species.Birch mostly and a few aspens.Crossing the rocks was a decision making process of avoiding the wet rocks. My worn Merrill’s were minus some tread so I stuck to the dry area whenever possible. I would sometimes need to hold my beaver sticks in one hand and reach for a tree or root to get past a steeper scramble. The day was continuing to warm up and we were sweating some but not uncomfortable like we would have been on a summer day. Autumn hiking brings many rewards and coolness is one of them. The land below us continued to offer hints of views yet to come. The trail suddenly split and there was a steeper less traveled trail off to the right. I asked Jen if we could go that way as it looked challenging. She agreed and after a short ascent we were rewarded for our efforts! We stood on a scenic overlook and it was breathtakingly beautiful! The leaves were spectacular off in the distance! We took photos and relaxed for a moment before taking off again. This is the part of the hike where I always get a new found surge of energy. We continued to push forward with renewed vigor and soon entered an amazing set of rock formations.

I knew that we were getting closer to the summit because I recognized the gap between the rocks where the trail led. The rocks towered over our heads and were vividly detailed in the bright sunshine. I was totally lost in all the details surrounding me. Jen mentioned it as well! It wasn’t too long before we spotted the long bare rock approach that leads to Ampersand’s summit. My words can not describe what waited for us there. We slowed our forward momentum and turned in circles to take everything in. Wow! That was the word I suppose. We reached the summit and began snapping photos. It was an epic moment! Jen and I removed our packs enjoying the summit buzz as I call it. We got some great photos and enjoyed an informal hiker’s lunch. Other hikers began to arrive at the summit and we began talking to them. One fellow arrived who was very eager to talk. No problem for me!

Enter a new character into the journey. The man’s name was Steve and he lived in nearby Tupper Lake where he had spent most of his life. He was a walking source of information and knew all the distant mountains by name. Jen and I had recognized certain landmarks given our experience and time in the Adirondacks but Steve filled in a lot of blanks. We talked for a long time. I mentioned a mega 46er legend whom Zane and I had met on the trail to our final high peak. Allen Mountain. What a day. I wrote of that day on an older post on this page. I couldn’t remember the number of times this individual named Gary had summited all the high peaks but knew it was over 70 times! Impressive and mind boggling! Steve said that he knew Gary and had spoken with him just this summer. Gary had been busy hiking it seems! His new count was 88. 88 times a 46er! Wow! I mentioned that I would like to interview Gary and get more of his story. I asked Steve why does Gary do it? Why not branch out and see more of the world? New trails and new challenges. Steve said that Gary quite simply loves the Adirondacks so he wanders them constantly. Impressive to me is this man’s accomplishments! Steve was being reserved about his own accomplishments and I knew that he too had quite the story to tell! We didn’t pry and he left shortly afterwards.

I had questioned Steve about the old cabin ruins we had passed on the hike just before reaching the steps. He mentioned that several cabins had once adorned the ridge. I was never really certain though about the true story or history there. I had been confused thinking that the Adirondack hermit Noah John Rondeau had occupied the site. Steve corrected me and said that Rondeau had lived in a forest pond setting known as “The Duck Hole”. Research yesterday sent me in confusing circles as I scoured the internet. There were so many unfamiliar names and places that were unknown to me. And I thought that I knew the Adirondacks! Silly me! It’s going to take some intense research to uncover something I hope to record correctly. I have always desired to hike into the Duck Hole and set foot upon its banks. Something about the name I guess. I found it on a map years ago but never made a connection. I do believe though that Rondeau may have lived in more then one cabin over the years. He’s worthy of a historical blog post as I retrace his footsteps and discover more about him. Who can say what else waits for me along those trails?

Steve had mentioned a plague on another part of Ampersand’s summit that we might find interesting. It refers to the Hermit Of Ampersand. The plaque is dedicated to a man named Walter Channing Rice who spent 8 years on Ampersand on fire watch duty. His story is very detailed I discovered in my internet research project. Check him out! His father had a bit of pioneering spirit when he brought the Rice family up into the Adirondacks. Walter was a remarkable individual! His sons erected the plaque on Ampersand in the 1930s. Walter must have been connected to the cabin ruins we found in some capacity. My research indicated that his living quarters were much closer to the summit. I am going to further research this story and revisit it.

Jen and I found the plaque where Steve had said it would be but found something else as well. Some concrete and cut off anchor bolts drilled into the summit near the plaque. We immediately guessed that they had once belonged to a fire tower. Research confirmed that the state of New York had erected a fire tower on the summit of Ampersand in 1920. It was functional for some fifty years until 1970. It was removed in July of 1977. The era of NYS fire towers and the individuals who occupied them were being fazed out as aircraft surveillance during the fire season became more economically viable. I find a sense of loss in that piece of history for some reason. I guess the answer is in the task itself. Individuals spent hours up in the towers scanning the far horizons for the smoke of forest fires. Those individuals must have been possessed of a certain mindset I feel. Hours and hours of silent vigil although they did get to chat with the many hikers drawn to the summits. I suppose the job had more merits then one might expect.Fire towers might be an interesting blog post. The count of promised stories now surpasses 10!

Jen and I reluctantly prepared to exit the summit eventually after spending some wonderful time there. We had put our layers back on even though it was so warm and sunny. A north born breeze was nipping at our now inactive bodies and we were at risk of getting chilled. We sat for a time below the upper summit and basked in the sun out of the breeze. I later regretted not putting sunscreen on my face! October sunburn! I had the sunscreen in my pack but never used it. Silly me! We enjoyed the 360 degree views of Ampersand as long as we could before starting our descent. We encountered quite a few groups of hikers on their way towards the summit. We would always say hello and I would take a quick glance at their gear. Most were well equipped so that was a positive! The descent offers a different set of scramble challenges and while it requires less exertion it still dictates caution. Foot placement is everything and I lost my balance in a forward slide once. My beaver sticks enabled me to stay upright and avoid a fall. We stopped often on the hike out and continued to take photos. We searched for small details and unique sunshine photos through the foliage. I was feeling strong and experiencing no pain. Jen and I talked about many different things but one thing in particular is noteworthy. We wanted to hike together more often. Bring family and friends along to share in the wonderful challenges. Build memories together and strengthen family bonds. To share a love of nature that unites people. I feel that to share in challenge builds trust and understanding. To share my words and love of nature is a summit of a far different lofty destination. As Jen and I stood on the summit of Ampersand I gazed at many familiar sights. My time in those places was solid in memories and in deed Comfortable and reassuring. But the blue,gray of far distant horizons and the unknown waiting there calls with silent beckoning. This story is far from over.

So that’s a short glimpse into Ampersand Mountain! A worthy destination of beautiful challenge. The day Jen and I shared now true MOONTABS! My third ascent of Ampersand and certainly not my last. As I closed this post out I realized that I hadn’t mentioned why each of my Ampersand summits has been uniquely different and meaningful. It’s a story worthy of yet another promised post. That post must wait for its time. I wanted this one dedicated to my adventure loving cousin Jennifer and her family. To recognize her unique journey that is connected to mine through family and more. It’s a new beginning with endless possibilities. That’s enough for today. The autumn sun is on the water just outside the Airstream. Time to run!✍️