We approach the middle of February and last night on the long drive home from Lake Placid I had plenty of time to think. My work there is only part time now since December. That’s fine with me because I have more time to write and get caught up on some of the things I let slide. Speaking of time it’s become a frequent subject of discussion with a young coworker of mine on the project. In his late twenties his perception of it is noteworthy given my obsession with it. Despite the differences in our ages we walk common ground when discussing time and how we choose to manage it. We also shared thoughts on memories or lack there of sometimes. The realization that we can’t remember everything and certain things are lost in the haze of busy existence. I exposed him to the blog the other day. I then encouraged him to consider writing private life journals as a way of preserving his own memories. I kept hand written journals for years. (long before the creation of this blog and the very public sharing of my personal life).Just before beginning this post I did a quick review of my previously published titles and content.Time is a reoccurring subject and one I mention rather often. Some of my followers have told me they enjoy the stories of my life on the farm and roaming the forests of Macomb as a boy. For me those stories bring back many memories! I hope to continue to blend the old with the new this year as the seasons bring the different tasks and hobbies into play. A warm stretch of weather these past few days has certainly aided in turning my thoughts to the upcoming syrup season. Mid February does that to me regardless of temperature typically. I begin to consider those activities of winter that must be experienced before syrup season begins or they will need to wait till next winter. That’s a fact of time.There’s a certain energy in the sunshine now that can’t be denied or ignored. Dripping icicles and tiny rivulets of runoff that begin to flow bring a certain expectation to lovers of producing maple syrup. It’s almost that time of year again! I wrote several posts last year about sugaring if you haven’t read them. I will no doubt take a path of redundancy again this spring writing about sugaring. I suppose that I am trying to set a stage of sorts. One where the actors perform a yearly tradition. If asked what my message might be I would have to say that it’s one of the magic of seasonal transition and the power it brings to my now. Something that I have written about many times. Something real that can’t be bottled or sold. Something elemental in its simplicity and interconnected with nature as only certain experiences can be. If this seems like my same old story it’s because it is! There is a solid positive energy in traditional hobby and task. In a world of ever changing circumstances there is comfort in the approach of sugaring. Predictable to a degree yet still very variable. As I enter the forest as part of a daily routine I will find peace there despite the physical challenges the weather may bring. Or the challenges of life itself. I learned this fact of time most painfully once. The year 2007 was to be the final syrup season that I would share with my father although I didn’t know it at the start. I was busy with balancing the realities of time. A household, a young son, and my barn wood salvage business. Being able to help my father with the annual syrup season was a big part of why I wanted to be self employed in the first place. It was a time thing make no mistake of it. I temporarily left construction suddenly in March of 2006 after becoming ill with a double lung infection from breathing fire proofing all winter on an inside project. The year from March 2006 to March 2007 was a year that I will never forget! Freedom and a new lifestyle where I chased a dream of controlling time. I had done it! Taken control of time! But life is never that simple it seems. That year changed me though. So many great memories and then those I would like to forget. My father began to have some changes in health in the winter of 2007. It started with some strange accidents and memory quirks at times. But things were pretty normal for the most part. We tapped trees in mid March as was our custom but my father was not feeling all that great and went to his doctor. He underwent some tests soon after.He was fearful of dementia he told me one day while we were working together. His sudden changes in mental state were a concern. And then the fateful day. I was boiling sap in the evaporator and could see him walking towards the sugar house. He seemed bent over and I knew something wasn’t quite right. He stepped into the sugar house and we exchanged some simple banter about the quality of the syrup or subjects of that nature. He surprised me suddenly with an sudden outburst. “ I have good news! I don’t have Alzheimer’s! But I do have brain tumors. Two of them on one side of my head.They don’t know much more than that right now.” To this day I can’t remember what I said to him then. But I will never forget my sudden thoughts. I knew at that moment that we would be losing our father. Me a trusted friend. My son his grandfather. I know it sounds very negative but I was being painfully honest with myself. There were times in the coming weeks when I would be hopeful and positive. The doctors would operate and cure him we prayed. But lose him we did by the middle of June. To honor him I wrote my first ever rhyming story “For Pop”-A son’s story of life. And just like that, the aspiring writer in me began to evolve. Why do I share such a sad personal story? Because of time. It is not certain and not without circumstances. It is not guaranteed. I am forever thankful for whatever force told me to become self employed in 2006. The time that I shared with my father that year and into 2007 cannot be altered by any circumstances.It was carved out with deed not words of wishful thinking. I ultimately returned to construction for another 10 years but never again questioned my drive to manipulate time itself. As for what followed in 2009 when cancer was found in my body?Life would take on new meaning and purpose. Time would be on my side throughout that fateful journey. As in “they found my cancer in time to rid my body of it”. And in these moments of my present now I know of several who wrestle greatly with time and much more.Just how much remains for them? A stark reality for all who love them.All this may seem dark and cloudy in the face of a large storm. I apologize. It is not dark to me. It is just very real that’s all. Immortality is not a gift of natural world nor should it be considered.Acknowledging our own mortality need not be dark or foreboding . It’s rather the opposite really. It’s that chance for us to truly reflect on our choices for today and for tomorrow. How best to spend our time and are we happy with our choices. It’s about saying why not do that? Why wait? Why not take that vacation or visit that person? There’s not always a clear path in front of us. It’s not always easy to make the best choices or recognize them as the best ones. For me the answers may be found staying in motion I have decided. Chasing the seasons of nature and finding the magic hidden in each one of them. For time and love are greatly connected I feel. That’s a tough one to explain. If you took the time to read this far thank you! After all I took the time to write it for you! I promise a fun story soon! I simply ask you to reflect on time today and find the small blessings that surround you. ✍️
Category Archives: Family
Family Life
November Speaks (Where October Left Off)
Time has flown and my writing has taken the backseat recently. Actually it’s totally missed the car ride. Life hasn’t stopped most certainly even if my creativity sometimes remains furtive. I have managed a small amount of sharing on my Facebook groups even if I don’t find my way here. It’s not that my days have lacked adventure or travel. The Adirondacks have been like home to me these past few months as my 14 week work tour continued last week. We spent some quality time camping prior to my work assignment. Gone are the weeks of camping out of the Airstream that I enjoyed until almost the end of October. My last week of boondock camping at Fish Creek State Campground just before they closed proved to be quite the adventure! No hookups there.Rainy weather and cool nights would tax my batteries despite the addition of a portable Zamp solar charger system. I ran the furnace after returning from work while the generator was running before crawling under my thick stack of blankets each evening. The campground had made the decision to close the shower house early this season. No problem I decided. I had my fresh water tank full, a propane water heater, and a nice shower of my own in the Airstreams! Perfect right? Yes at first! Then my circuit board failed on the water heater and the hot water ceased. I troubleshot it in the dark with a flashlight to no avail. Too bad they didn’t still use the old style propane hot water heaters with a basic pilot light that you could hand light easily. No board means no hot water. But being stubborn (not to mention in need of a shower ) I did what any lover of a clean body would have done. I began heating pans of hot water on my propane stove. I had plenty of propane and plenty of water. I had considered for a nanosecond bathing in the lake itself! But after a day spent working outdoors in the cold rain that was not really a pleasant option.The next trick would involve bringing a dishpan into the shower itself. I filled it with a mix of hot and cold water to begin the shower experience. I won’t go into great detail of the entire process but let’s simply say it was mission accomplished if not mission supreme! I followed this procedure for a couple days then bide the camping season farewell. The Airstream has sat vacant for several weeks now at Jennifer’s.As for its departure south that is a rather obscure subject for the moment. Some plans had to altered while others were still being developed. Things can be quickly set in motion when your home is on wheels. It’s winterized at the moment. The nighttime temperatures continue to plummet and we decided it the safest course of action. The past few weeks have found me living in rentals in Saranac Lake. One has become my favorite after I discovered it last October. The owners have taken the time to make the space a cozy, warm retreat. They are friendly and welcoming as hosts! I consider myself fortunate to have found them. The Olympic Center Revitalization Project inches forward with substantial progress having been made since August. My time working there almost finished as the critical manpower shortage winds down into its final days. It’s been a blur of work, travel to the valley for weekends, and back up for the next week. I have watched the transition of autumn from the moment it began in the Adirondacks. The St. Lawrence valley autumn has lagged slightly behind and it’s been fun observing the differences. I had one memorable hike about mid -October when I decided to take on Cascade Mountain after work one evening. I hit the trailhead at 6:16 pm chasing the sunset after a beautiful warm day on the project. Darkness would overtake me before I could summit however. The views were still remarkable and I stood there gazing off to the horizons of flickering lights in the distance. It took me much longer to descend the mountain than I intended. Lucky for me Jennifer called and chatted me down! I reached the car close to 8:45 pm. What a hike! Hiking adventures have been replaced by farm tasks recently. A wood order that needs to be filled. Hay to store away for our two remaining horses. Many different tasks present themselves as winter approaches. It’s best not to get caught short I have learned even if I struggle to get it together! We cruise the farm woods searching for firewood and sugar wood trees sometimes. There is still an over abundance of dead maple to be found although some of it has begun to move past its prime. Time is bringing change to our devastated forest as the upper canopies continue to fall. We have made some inroads of harvest into some sections while others remain untouched. It’s been a rather disturbing cycle to witness since 2017. The dual deadly tap of tent caterpillars and drought of 2016. The subsequent die off has been far reaching across the high ridges of the farm. We hope to begin some forest cleanup attempts in the time before us. Time flies and progress comes slowly at times but nature throws us some pretty stiff challenges from time to time. Ice storms.Insects. Invasive species. The future of the farm landscape remains unclear and hazy. We have a basic plan and hope to further our stewardship efforts moving forward. So that’s about it really. Work and commutes. Packing bags and moving around each week. Travel back and forth. Balancing time with Zane and Jennifer on the weekends when home. The shortening daylight throws a twist into everything. As much a part of autumn as the falling leaves themselves. All this I chose I must admit when I question my trajectory some days. This is a temporary path I hike. The objectives begin to be completed. Time can’t run backwards nor can the courses of action that decisions created. It’s strange the energy that drives those decisions. And the energy that steers the feet back to the farm property in the valley. For some tasks can’t be postponed indefinitely. Winter changes everything. A sugar season must be prepared for with no further delay.New goals take the stage and there’s still time to fulfill them. That becomes the new focus. November speaks and I listen closely. It’s a familiar song. The northern breeze in the trees of the farm property. A time to enjoy a simple lunch next to the farm cabin wood stove. A time to enjoy a few minutes of silence. A time to reflect and a time to reconnect. There is a calming peace in the simple accomplishments of farm tasks preparing for winter. It’s an adventure of a different sort. A destination where you travel back to simple roots. A familiar feeling in an old place. It’s a new autumn in a year well underway now. Many things have changed and many things have not. It’s a powerful place to stand and count small blessings. Spirit energy is ever present on the rocky turf of these Macomb hills.
The Subtle Art Of Camp Life
July presses forward with somewhat unseasonal weather here in the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York. The rains have dominated the forecast and pound the area with incessant,unrelenting frequency. Our soggy debut camping trip of six days at the end of June left us more experienced with boondocking in the Airstream but found us regrouping with a more weather focused preparation. We purchased additional tarps and light tethering ropes. We retired the screen house in favor of a larger steel framed garage sale tent. We only had six days before leaving our staging area in Jennifer’s yard and heading back up to the Adirondacks for our next trip. The forecast was anything but promising but we decided that canceling was not an option. Jennifer had toiled hard to secure the dates through a cancellation website. Giving up wasn’t an option for us at any rate. We headed out on a sunny Saturday afternoon. The truck fully loaded with gear, a kayak, and canoe pulling the Airstream. Jennifer’s car also fully loaded with gear. Sporting a canoe on top and two dogs in the back. We were a party of four. Jennifer,Zane,Garrett (Jennifer’s nephew), and myself.The dogs Stella and Greaser. Coolers,drinks, and all sorts of dry goods. A fully loaded refrigerator and freezer in the coach. The cupboards and drawers packed in advance. Jennifer is a fabulous planner and organizer. She’s set up the travel coach for efficiency and order.It remained up to us to learn the locations of the different things we’d need as the days unfolded. Our camping locations are state parks without full hook ups so there’s a little extra planning on my end of things. We need the generator and extra gas for it. I use a plastic siphon to gas up my generator. It’s clean and efficient.Better than a funnel I feel.We checked in at our campground then headed to our site after a quick stop to fill the 40 gallon water tank of our coach. I prefer to travel with minimal fresh water on board. At 7 pounds plus per gallon it adds a lot of weight to the trailer.Next came my least favorite part! Backing the trailer into the campsite! We like camping in forested parks so the abundance of trees makes for tricky parking at times. It’s a group effort with spotters on both sides. It’s always a relief once I get it close! We then work together to get it level side to side and front to back. We employ a variety of plastic ramp pieces and pieces of lumber. It gets easier with experience! Front to back is never a problem with the electric tongue jack doing all the work! We begin to work separately after that as I finish the final coach setup. The camp takes shape fairly quickly once the large tent site is chosen. It takes a couple hours of brisk activity to get everything in order in a manner that flows. The boys settle into their space after blowing up air mattresses and rolling out sleeping bags. Our bedroom area is set up permanently at this point so that saves us time! The cooking/dining tent is a vital part of our camp. It cuts down on traffic in and out of the coach. We also have learned to set up an outdoor dishwashing station behind the coach. I mentioned much of this in a recent post but there’s a direction of thought here that begs reflection. It’s that point early in the trip where you settle into a sort of informal daily routine. We spend most of the day outside if the weather is favorable. Cooking and dining both. Evenings find us close to the campfire talking about the adventures of the day. We don’t always do everything as a group. It just depends on the activities that are chosen for any given day. I suppose it’s the use of my time each day that takes me into a pensive forest of thought. I very quickly adapt into a life of late evenings and late mornings. I find myself sleeping in longer. Eight hours in bed sometimes. Very different than the four to five hours of sleeping each night during my working years. I find myself feeling as if I am wasting time or missing out.Perhaps I am still too driven to truly relax. After all time can be a nemesis for me as you may know if you follow my stories. I’m trying to overcome these strange thoughts but it’s going to take some time it appears. A typical morning has certain tasks that must be performed. Perked coffee the first order of business. Much more time consuming than a Keurig but very tasty! Generators can’t be started prior to 9am. The boys sleep late so breakfast becomes a daily brunch. Today we didn’t eat until almost noon! The morning walk to the toilet and drive to the shower house. Our daily activities begin after 1pm many days. Rarely before 11am. Sometimes brunch is early with no cooking at all. Today is day thirteen here for me. We were supposed to go home after six days but Jennifer picked up some cancellations that tied two separate trips together. We actually moved to an adjacent site for one night last Friday. Talk about tear down and set up! We didn’t need to set up the tents at least! Then the kicker! The site we vacated remained empty that night! The whole reservation system is a mess in my opinion! Reserve America? How about we focus on New York State? But that takes us down the dark trail of negativity so let’s get back on track! When I stop and take a solid inventory of my days here where exactly did my time get spent? Most definitely on camp chores. The constant rain events keep us scrambling to dry towels and gear. We had a couple of somewhat destructive rain and wind events. The one two nights ago nearly destroyed our cooking tent.It hit suddenly and fiercely with little warning. It had been a rather lovely day. Warm and humid with a mix of sun and clouds. Zane and I had spent several hours paddling what’s known as the Floodwood Loop. Very fun with two short canoe carries. We had just gone to the shower house to clean up when the storm hit. Jennifer and Garrett rescued the tent and a bunch of our gear. We returned to help salvage the cooking tent and reset it. The boys sleeping tent and large tarp above weathered the storm like nothing happened! Regardless those types of storm events keep us busy! Zane and I have spent quite a bit of time paddling and hiking during the time he’s been here. It’s been in and out some for my three companions here with the endless details back home that can’t be avoided. I’ve pretty much put life back in the valley on hold these last thirteen days. One thing that takes time here is getting to town to get decent cell phone and internet service. We basically need to drive into Tupper Lake to do that most days. We double down picking up necessities like milk and ice. Firewood if we run low. It gives us a little diversity at times. Zane and I often need to drive to reach our hiking trailheads so we do our business on the way. Our most recent hike was up Catamount Mountain. It turned into quite the ordeal when we got separated from the dog on a tough rock scramble! It pretty much finished our day by the time we bushwhacked our way back out after losing the trail while retrieving Gracie. We learned a valuable lesson of teamwork and the importance of not getting separated! We didn’t return until after 7pm and a thunderstorm drove us into the coach. It was one of those nights where we were glad to have it’s kitchen and sleeping amenities! I think it may take some post camp life living to truly reflect on our time spent here. The days run together here and time passes much too fast. I need to run home for a few days before returning for the last three days of our reservation on this site.Today a north born wind chills me when the sun hides behind a cloud for a moment. The clothesline sways and our items finally dry! All is well and the afternoon awaits our decision of how best to spent the remainder of our day. Evening will require the second meal of the day to be crafted. Dishes and the purring generator recharging the batteries. A carefully laid fire if the rains don’t return. Camp life as I have never known it continues for the moment. How best to describe it and honor those moments remains the writer’s challenge. For the hours become rambling and difficult to follow at times in their silent passage. I don’t watch the clock here. I watch the sky and track the movement of the sun if we’re lucky enough to view it. Life flows with the daylight and the darkness. And if I sleep long and deep perhaps I need it. Leaving the race has been a challenge. Not to worry. I always seem to find my way back onto the track for a time. The home on wheels can’t stay here forever nor can we. The energy lives in the forward motion. This life that has become MOONTABS In Motion.Places of outdoor beauty where loons cry and waves gently lap on sandy shores. I try to find my balance here as these summer days tick past. I pull out my map and gaze upon the many unknown waterways that wait for us to explore them. And fondly remember those we know now. The dashes of untraveled trails on a map call with an urgency at times. Perhaps the drive represents more than I can understand at this moment in time. I must enter the now and count my small blessings. To question is to learn new answers. To follow the heart brings passion and love into the light. It is enough this simple existence.The spirit energy will fuel the journey.The stories will follow.
The Debut
It’s been a busy summer so far and time seems to be flying! We’ve continued outfitting our Airstream coach since bringing it to Jennifer’s. She took charge inside setting up drawers and cabinets with all sorts of household items that would be needed to make for a successful outing. She’s good at things like that but it takes some thinking to make everything flow when space is at a premium. We settled for a 27 ft. coach for several reasons. Weight was certainly a factor although my truck is capable of towing a much larger trailer. I’m very impressed with how well it actually tows! It’s very stable with the “Blue Ox” hitch I purchased at the dealer coupling it to the truck. I haven’t towed it that many miles yet but know that I’d leave for a cross country trip with no hesitation! I also purchased a type of insurance called “Coach Net”. It’s like Triple A on steroids! We hope to never need to use it but it provides some nice benefits if we ever have issues with the coach or problems of any kind on the road. Time will tell the tale and I’ll give it a review sometime. My thoughts were simple. We travel to have an enjoyable adventure.Why not do everything we can to give ourselves peace of mind? Check it out if you’re not familiar with it! Another factor in choosing our coach size was our desire to “fit” ourselves easily into camping sites. Backing a travel coach into sites can be challenging. Experience will come in time I realize but it’s a little daunting! In the Adirondacks we haven’t seen any “pull through” sites to date. They may exist but we haven’t found them yet. In fact the places that we are camping don’t even have full hookups. I’ll cover that in greater detail at some point. A third reason for purchasing our coach was practicality. We expect that Jennifer and I will often be traveling alone. Two people and two dogs. We have plenty of space for that! All this being said we slowly transited into a “pre-flight” mode of setup. I load tested the small Honda generator I purchased for boondocking. Quiet and easy to move around at 47 lbs. Our twin set of batteries keep the coach alive when we aren’t connected to a permanent power source. The refrigerator functions with electricity or propane so there’s never an issue there. Same with the water heater.We’re very self contained. Pretty typical for most campers but I think Airstream has added some nice bonus features. We have an onboard inverter for added power when the batteries are utilized. Having two batteries is definitely a bonus. The days ticked past and our debut camping trip drew ever closer. We checked off our lists and added to them as well! Our trip would be a bit of a hybrid. A mix of outdoor cooking and some items kept in a cooler. Our Airstream has a nice sized refrigerator and freezer but our trip was to last for 6 days. A cooler was still a necessity. A tent was as well. Jennifer’s giant two room tent would house Zane and his belongings. Overflow storage as well. I also brought my screen house but I‘ll revisit that some other time! We planned to use the toilets and shower facilities at the campground to conserve our water supply and not overtax our gray and black water tanks. You can’t make it 6 days with 3 people otherwise with no hookups. Our group was supposed to be larger but circumstances kept that from happening. With a larger group using the park facilities would be even more of a necessity.The weather forecast was less than perfect but we decided to keep our plans regardless. Having the comforts of the coach outweighed any negatives overall. We packed extra tarps just in case we needed them. Jennifer and I both like using plastic totes for storing camping gear. They’re easy to transport and great for organizing your belongings. We set up a staging area in Jennifer’s garage and our gear pile grew quickly! We planned on taking the canoes so there’s paddles, life vests, and cushions to pack. Folding chairs and camp tables. We decided to cook outside so we were bringing a propane stove and griddle as well. We use the picnic table that sits on every site for a multi purpose work station and eating location. It’s amazing the number of items it takes to prepare for a comfortable outing! We also included our fishing equipment into the pile. Jennifer began stocking food,spices, and paper products into the coach as the week progressed. We started the refrigerator 24 hours before our departure to get it cooled down properly. It takes longer for an Rv type refrigerator to cool due to its design. We placed some blue ice packs into both the frig and freezer to aid in the process. Things were shaping up! We got the truck prepped and packed ahead of time as well. Monday morning came and I got ready to hook onto the coach. It takes a few minutes and there’s a checklist of sorts that I follow. Finally the moment leading to departure. Light check. I powered up the coach camera that is typically used for backing up but it’s a great tool when driving! It gives you added vision when on the highway. I felt that momentary twinge of anxiety I get just before towing any trailer but knew it would quickly pass. The truck and Airstream are well matched for the road! It always amazes me the amount of time it takes to prepare for an outing away from the comforts of our homes! But it’s time well spent when you plan properly!The day had arrived that had sat on calendars weeks in advance. The debut was about to begin. The events of those days of camping worthy of their own post. It was time to begin MOONTABS In Motion!
Home Is Where You Hang Your Hat
A March cold snap has postponed our maple syrup season momentarily so my thoughts run in a different direction today. Yesterday I wrote of the freedoms of having a blog site to basically write whatever subject matter seems pertinent at any given moment. While my blog is heavily nature themed most of the time there are other topics that invite pragmatic muses. A while back I wrote a post titled It’s About Time. I mentioned Hill House where we have lived for close to 6 years now. I have been wanting to sell it for almost 2 years but despite two different realtors efforts nothing happened. Just a couple totally ridiculous offers that I refused. On social media recently I have hinted around about being busy and making apologies for being a bit behind with my blogging. What most people don’t know is that we have been packing and moving our belongings out!We are selling Hill House and will be spending our last night here very soon. The story of how we came to be here in the first place really doesn’t need to be told. Let’s simply say that it was part of my “old life”. 2017 would be one of the most challenging years of my life. I was faced with many tough decisions. I tackled them one day at a time. I threw myself into my two large work projects and decided that they would be my last. I retired that November. It was one of the best decisions that I have ever made! The way forward wasn’t always clear but time passed. I put my son Zane’s happiness and needs at the forefront of all my plans. We bonded greatly through those days of massive change. He kept me focused and on track. I found more time for writing and nature once again. We continued living at Hill House despite the fact that it was way too large for us. I wasn’t ready to uproot Zane. I felt that he needed that sense of home and stability. We ditched Hill House in the summer of 2018 and moved to our cottage on Black Lake for a few months. We lived a carefree existence of camping and hiking in the Adirondack Mountains a few days each month. Adventure became our theme. Hill House was still home base but I think the lesson that I was presenting to Zane was beginning to take hold. We could feel at home wherever we found ourselves. In a wind swept tent on an Adirondack camp site buffeted by rain and struggling to keep dry. Emerging in the morning and laughing about our harrowing night! Or in a sketchy motel room with no locks where we barricaded the door with furniture. In the old cottage at Black Lake where we shared evenings paddling and hunting beaver sticks. Barbecuing and sharing dinner with family right next door. It was proof of the old adage “home is where the heart is”. Back at Hill House in the fall of 2018 big chances were about to come. Jennifer would enter my life in October of 2018. She’d bring joy and new meaning to our time spent at Hill House.Meals shared together and a most special memory of the Xmas we decorated a freshly cut tree together. Time spent safely tucked within its warm,safe haven as winter blanketed the north country. Home yet sometimes falling under the shadow of the old life. We’d feel moments of home in the tiny unfinished interior of our farm cabin during maple syrup season in the spring of 2019. Gathered around the wood stove for lunch before returning to work in the sugarbush. Summer 2019 more tenting and camping in the Adirondacks. Again that sense of home. Camping and traveling with Jennifer to Limekiln State Park near Old Forge, N.Y. with her nephew. Tents our home for a few. Fall 2019 the first of our Adirondack rental cabins. A week of home within a log cabin. A wonderful fireplace for basking with morning cups of coffee and chilly October evenings. Another fall at Hill House stacking in the large piles of firewood to heat it and the garage. Sometimes we’d stay at Jennifer’s house where we always felt at home after a day of adventures. Home was wherever we were together. Summer 2020 would find us calling the Adirondacks home more frequently. Tenting in the backcountry as we continued our 46 high peaks quest. Back to the log cabin rental once again at Tupper Lake. I’d leave for Pennslyvania to work for a few months and share a small apartment with my two friends. It was a home of necessity but I never cared much for living there. Dinner times when we shared a meals and conversations were the only time I felt a small sense of home. Sleepless nights missing my loved ones would become my norm as I searched the Pennslyvania countryside looking for a place for them to visit. Fate would not allow it however. I’d return home for good in October shortly after spending a most wonderful week with Jennifer,Zane, and her family at an Adirondack rental in Cranberry Lake. Once again proving that home is not one fixed destination. I spent a couple weeks in late October working on a project on Whiteface Mountain near Lake Placid,N.Y. Once again calling the Adirondacks home for a few. My motel room near Lake Placid was less than home so I moved to a small Airbnb in Saranac Lake. The moment I stepped into my new space I felt at home! Missing my loved ones but knowing they were only a short distance away. Something that was impossible to feel in the suburb city of Beaver, Pennslyvania weeks earlier.December 2020. Jennifer and I spend a few days in a cozy Adirondack Airbnb in Wilmington. That sense of temporary home again as we returned from our daily adventures. I did a quick count just now! I have used the word home 19 times give or take a few! Totally my intent! My objective was simple this morning. I hope that I have succeeded in making you think about all the places you’ve called home over the years. I mentioned just some of mine. We are about to close the door forever here at Hill House. The final door of the old life. The closing of a chapter. Zane is feeling a little sad these days at times but he’s traveled enough now to know that home can be many places for us. As for me I feel little sadness leaving here. I will miss our beautiful views of the lake. Our private location. Our good friends and neighbors who live just down from us.But home for us becomes a blank page once again and a new year of adventures await us. We’ll live at the old cottage for the moment while we decide our next destination. Home will be many places once again this year. We leave Hill House with our many MOONTABS. Home will be where we hang our hats! Always!
The Wait
March 14th. A very cold morning with the mercury hovering at 9 degrees Fahrenheit while chilly winds from the north make it seem even colder. Sugaring is stalled out for the moment but we remain diligent and busy. We continue to set taps and our count surpasses 400 now.Using the old timers rule of 1 quart of syrup per tap for the season we could possibly make 100 gallons. But the trees are fickle and temperamental if you assign them human emotions. Sometimes they hold tight to their sap in a most perplexing manner. I have learned a few simple strategies over the past 13 years since I have taken the lead role in our small operation and place them into our plans. One of them is to continue to set fresh taps throughout the season. Some of our taps have been out 2 weeks as of today but it’s remained too cold for steady runs. Last week’s two day stretch of warm weather yielded us a modest run that enabled us to flood the evaporator for our first boil. I never got a batch “pulled” before I had to shut down as the sap supply in the 400 gallon storage tank dwindled to nothing. That’s not uncommon on the first boil of the season. At the start of the initial boil the evaporator is full of raw sap in all the different chambers. Eventually it becomes less watery close to the “finishing” pan. Raw sap continues to enter the back pan of our evaporator at ambient temperature. A float system enables me to control the depth and flow rate to the pans. The heavier “pre-syrup” liquid pushes itself forward towards the finishing pan. I trap a certain level in the finishing pan and hold it there until it measures as syrup. I use a simple hydrometer to accomplish the task. Once the evaporator is set up there are about 5-7 gallons of syrup “trapped” in it at any given moment at different levels of sugar content. There’s a little more to the process than that but that’s the gist of it. Last week we had two extremely warm days with a high of 59 degrees Fahrenheit. Not ideal but the sap did flow. Not as much as I anticipated but it didn’t drop below freezing at night. Ideal sap runs follow nights below freezing and daytime highs above freezing. 40 degrees Fahrenheit sunny days are ideal for good sap runs. The wind has shifted back to the north and little sap is flowing for now. We wait for a possible run on Tuesday. A high of 45 degrees Fahrenheit predicted. Perfect. We have continued to set a few taps out to take advantage of the temporary lull in activity. I was a little concerned last week that the smaller trees didn’t produce as much sap as I thought they should. The larger trees seemed to release much better. I made the decision yesterday to set out a section of mini-tube runs on a wooded ridge on our farm known to us as Green Mountain. A group of large maples cover the ridge. It’s named for the green plastic sap tubing we used there. Most of our normal tubing is blue. Mini-tubes are short sections of sap tubing that connect a series of ridge trees that are tough gathering if buckets are used. My father started building mini-tubes years ago and we began adding them throughout our sugarbush. They are taken down,washed, and stored each season. I may have mentioned them in a previous post. Most of our mini-tube runs are obsolete now after the 2016/2017 sugarbush die off I mentioned in a previous post. We are waiting to assess how many maples survive before we attempt to rework our mini-tubes in some of the sections. Large portions of our former sugarbush have been retired for the moment. Wood salvage operations will keep the trail networks open until we decide the best possible way forward. For the moment the sugar house sits idle but ready. The taps idle but ready for the next thaw. It is a moment where we can catch our breath. We hope to be swamped with sap soon! I welcome the long days of boiling that secure the supply and make for a successful season. They arrive with mind numbing task and toil that brings a strange peace suddenly when you least expect it! Perhaps it’s exhaustion! Regardless it’s a priceless gift of our hobby.I will try to bottle it with words and deliver it to you! I recently joked about my sentences being as winding as our sugarbush sap tote roads! That pretty much sums it up! I am presently trying to hire a certain woman who is very close to me to be my writing editor! So far my efforts have failed!She did accept a job in the sugarbush though!As for being an editor she’s holding out for a better wage package and increased benefits! In the sugarbush I work for less than $3/hr average so overall negotiations prove difficult! I mentioned to her that perhaps I should be charging for the experience of working in the sugarbush! Like a gym membership!All this working out and physical exertion must be worth something! Speaking of a winding tote road, did I ever mention that I was never a straight “A” student? I was way too busy running through the woods and swamps like a wild,feral animal to bother with my studies! Something that always troubled my father greatly! Reading however was something I treasured greatly!I graduated high school and later received a 2 year college degree in electrical technology despite my feral tendencies. In 1982 I chose the migratory life of a construction electrician after being excepted into the I.B.E.W. Local 910 apprenticeship program. Jobs were scarce in the north country as a recession gripped the nation. It’s a place to start out I thought. This “temporary” vocation situated me well for over 37 years. I even managed to retire at 55 years of age. My goal during the many long and tedious indoor projects that kept me from the forests.We will visit those years sometime here on the blog. In the meantime while we wait for the sap run to resume you will need to wait for better grammar and sentence structure! As long as I am rambling I may as well mention that I still to this day run through the swamps and woods ( with my son now) like some sort of wild,feral animal! I just don’t move so fast these days! I must also mention that there is a freedom in the creation of blog posts that I thoroughly enjoy! Call it liberty! My blogging is not for financial gain or under the scrutiny of a pushy,demanding employer! I can tell my stories in my own words with honest and simple words. From my heart always. There is that part of me that feels the need for nothing artificial or staged to meet certain expectations of modern society.My words can be as raw as the sap hitting the evaporator float in the sugar house. But much warmer. I don’t care for artificial flavors especially fake maple syrup. I will go without before using it. Words can be compared in a similar manner. Sharing is my mission. To bring to life my observations and challenges. To perhaps inspire and give hope to someone who needs something different today. Or maybe to take someone on a walk down memory lane for a minute. To divert their attention. If I brought fond memories back to life for someone than I feel that I have brought something worthwhile and meaningful to the world. Or if my words give someone hope for tomorrow that’s a positive goal. We are connected in the new age survival of the present. Positive energy can heal in these troubled times. Bring us all together. I frequently ask people to share their stories about their lives. In time I will invite comments and give people an opportunity to share them here. Critics and their negativity don’t bother me. They are a part of the struggle to co-exist in the world. In time they will blow away like the fallen maple leaves of last summer’s foliage. They will never hinder our progress or stop our mission of positivity. They too serve a purpose in the cycles of nature. Growth where nothing is wasted. There are privileges within the freedoms of self expression. Positivity will be the backbone of my content. Life is not perfect or without dark days. Those times will be acknowledged with honest testimony. We must embrace all that happens that we can’t change. We should strive to learn from our mistakes.Extend kindness and compassion. Always appreciate our small blessings and those we share them with in our lives.Acknowledge our special memories with the people we love! We named those memories MOONTABS!It’s so important to celebrate!Please follow our journey of season and celebration of spring as it unfolds. We hope you find it sweet and tasty! Remember that one matter who you are or what you find interesting ….“It is no bad thing to celebrate a simple life.” J.R.R. Tolkien.
The Transition
March 9th 2021. Winter has retained its grasp upon our landscapes. The tiny thaw during the last week of February was a teaser. Winter struck back hard with a north born chill that held for over a full week. The first 61 sugaring taps we had set sat idle. An occasional drip here and there if some sunlight warmed the side of the tree. We had taken full advantage of the thaw however. We successfully broke in our sap haul roads and trail to the sugar house.We had set up our evaporator and made additional preparations. I changed the oil in the diesel tractor. It is the heartbeat of our small operation. No tractor means no taps or no hauling sap. It will log many hours this season. We find ourselves tapping the furthest we have ever been from our sugar house. A necessity after the loss of most of our former old sugarbush in the 2016/2017 combination drought/tent worm die off . The dead trees blanket our ridges still. A grim and stark reminder of nature’s fickle power.It has been a painful transition these past few seasons. In spring 2018 we didn’t even know the extent of the damage. We tapped trees that appeared to be living only to find they ran no sap. Others only a little. The saw dust from the tapping bit is usually frozen when we tap so there were no tell tale moist shavings. The ones you notice on the warmer days of an advanced season. We had a productive syrup season despite but did not collect well from the number of taps set. In late summer 2018 we scouted our forest and marked the trees with spray paint. Orange:dead needing extraction. Blue: living but compromised.Healthy trees were left unpainted. We didn’t pay much attention to the smaller tiny maples until later. Many also lost. They were the future of our operations.We were in shock at the level of devastation. But there was hope in small pockets of the sugarbush. Some trees had survived!We would hopefully find enough to resume tapping in 2019.That fall we began cutting the dead sections for firewood we needed to heat our home and fuel the sugar house evaporator. The subsequent harvesting is a story unto itself for future posts. About that same time we became friends with our neighbor Tom. His 90 plus acres border part of our property. Tom was building an Rv site on his land and wanted our permission to widen the abandoned Rastley Rd. to accommodate his small camper. We set up a meeting at the farm and had a long conversation. We easily reached a verbal agreement and parted ways with our new friend. Kindness and cooperation are attributes in the realms of human coexistence. We would be rewarded for this in the spring of 2019. We set out that spring to tap the remaining maples we had with hopeful anticipation and resolve. We cleared a trail into a small section of maples at the far corner of our property that we had never tapped. We were adjacent to Tom’s property. We noticed the abundance of healthy young maples that had survived the ravages of 2016/2017 in Tom’s forest. Tom’s land was lower with the ability to retain a higher water table. He had suffered tent worm losses but on a much smaller scale. We reached out to him and brokered a simple deal to tap a few of his maples. We set about 75 taps total on his property. They produced huge amounts of sap and contributed highly to our successful season. A plan began to form at this point. When Tom arrived that spring we gave him a share of maple syrup for his kind gesture. We became better acquainted with Tom that year. We would visit for hours sometimes and brainstorm different possibilities. Fast forward. Spring 2020. Our home heated that winter once again by salvaged former sugarbush trees. Jen and I recovering from surgeries. We were forced to regroup and run a tiny syrup operation. We set a few taps on Tom’s property again. Another worthy blog tale sometime. Tom returned home from the south early that spring and frequently stopped by while we boiled sap away. We brokered a new deal with him. We laid out a trail system in his woods for a sap hauling road that would enable us to reach many healthy maples. Zane,Jennifer, and I cleared the road over a two day period. Tom received a share of syrup once again for his generosity. Fast forward again to the present. 2021. Our home again heated with salvaged maple trees. We have entered Tom’s forest as planned. The tote road is broke in and the taps are set. We now wait for the big runs with may arrive this week. The questions begin. Will the never tapped maples of Tom’s forest exceed our expectations? Will this season be a productive one? Will the tired iron of our old systems survive the long days and nights of production? We can’t answer those questions just yet. But I can say with conviction that the season will be tackled with passion and determination. We’re well positioned and ready to begin the next set of tasks. The gifts wait for us. In the forest and in the old sagging sugar house. Hours spent together and with visitors. Food and simple sugarbush meals shared in wet, muddy clothing. We’ll suffer discomforts in all sorts of weather. We will grow weary physically as the transformation into spring unfolds once again. We will grow mentally and collectively.Bond as family and in our relationships. Jennifer has taken to sugaring and brings positivity to our operation with her determination and spirit. Zane steps forward with adolescent energy. He has become my apprentice of all I know. As I was to my own father. I will pass the torch to him someday if he wishes it. Our memories will be made regardless of the outcome. Those are the givens of this most special of annual hobbies. All else fades in comparison. These story can’t be told in a few short sentences. The sentences are as winding as the tote roads of our sugarbush. Confusing and incomprehensible to some perhaps. Love is not confusing though. Love of traditional rural heritage. Love of nature. Love of rigorous hobbies. Love of those who share these special days with me. The energy of spring brings warming days of returning sunlight. Most residents of the north country revel in it. For some it means much more. These are the days of MOONTABS. We return to the forest this morning to make more of them. The sweet taste of our endeavors will soon be our reward. We have launched. I have launched. Once again into that place that only the drumbeats of tiny sap drops hitting buckets on sunny hillsides can take me. A symphony of spring. A destination of spirit energy on the solid hallowed grounds in the hills of Macomb. A rebirth of sorts that I will forever chase as long as my legs will take me into the forest. I will lose myself in rising clouds of boiling sap steam. Transported from society’s burdens for a moment. There can be no finer moments. I am the most blessed of individuals!For that I am most fortunate and humbly thankful. To stand outside the warm sugar house on a frosty March night as the evaporator cools for the day renews my faith in life itself. A clear starry sky over head. Light glowing between the cracks in the sugar house walls. The crackling of the fire and its inviting warmth. Wisps of fragrant steam that fill the night sky. The knowledge that tomorrow the sap will flow and the cycle will repeat itself. This is heaven on earth for me. I am lifted to the highest of worldly places. It’s time to get to the sugarbush now.
O
Not Just Yet
March is a special month for us here in northern N.Y.!Why?Maple syrup season! It’s a hobby that I have enjoyed for many years now. The story of how I came to love it so much is rich with family history and rural heritage. As the first of March approaches we plan on getting started setting our taps. It always reminds me of my father in the last few years of his life. He never wanted to start tapping until March 15th. I’d be impatient and would say “let’s get going! “He’d simply say “we’ll start soon but not just yet!”I can’t say for sure when we first began to sugar on our farm. My parents purchased the farm around 1969.There was an existing sugar house and old evaporator over in a small section of woods off the main farm meadow. Sometime in the mid to late seventies my two uncles and my father partnered up to make syrup together. My father worked and I had school so they did much of the gathering and boiling. I enjoyed going over in the evenings when some of the boiling was done. I honestly can’t remember a whole lot in the haze of time gone past but I remember certain moments clearly.Like the time I wacked myself in the head with a block of wood I was attempting to split. My cousin was running the evaporator and I wandered off for awhile to suffer my humiliation.Another memory that stayed with me was when my uncle Charlie shared a sub with me! It was the first one that I had ever eaten! Funny the things we remember! I can’t say for sure how many years we did syrup while I was in school but I know that the evaporator pans got bad at some point and couldn’t be repaired easily. My uncles built their own sugar house on their farm and tapped their large stands of maples close to home. I would stop in and visit sometimes when they boiled at night. My father’s cousin Keith Tyler also began sugaring and we would visit there sometimes. Our sugar house sat idle for quite a few years. The back wood shed section roof rotted through and I tore it down one summer. My father rebuilt it later that fall. The main sugar house structure was an old garage the previous farm owner Forrest Hosmer had moved there sometime in the fifties. It needed a new roof but has stood the test of time. My father expanded the wood shed for better storage space but the structure has changed very little over the years.It wasn’t until just before my father retired in 1990 that we returned to making syrup on a yearly basis. He had two custom pans built for the old evaporator in Vermont. He gathered sap with a team of his horses. My stepmother Shirley was his partner in the sugarbush. I helped out with tapping and some of the sugar wood collecting. My memories are a little vague and I miss my journals that were destroyed in our house fire of 2012. They contained a wealth of details that I can’t ever hope to drag from my memory. But beginning in 1991 something occurred that would change me forever. My memories are clear and concise of the day my father decided that I would learn to run the evaporator for the first time! I was nervous and a little intimidated by the responsibilities that come with that task! There’s a lot that can go wrong if you don’t pay close attention. But my father patiently guided me through the process and I caught on quickly. I wasn’t working that spring and spent a lot of time helping with sugaring. I did a lot of the boiling and my passion for the sweet creations that flowed from the evaporator became something more.I found a special connection in the rising steam of the boiling sap. There’s a poetry of motion in the process of running the evaporator. My father would come in between delivering loads of sap and visit with me. He’d tell me stories of growing up and sugaring with his father Alvin. It was in those days of boiling sap that my father became my best friend. We already had a special bond but something changed. He was passing on the yearly tradition with fatherly hope for the future I’d realize later. I grew fond of boiling sap at night. We had no electricity in our sugar house so a propane lantern supplied the light to run the evaporator. Our sugar house had been cleverly constructed on a side hill and everything worked on the principle of gravity. No need for pumps. I spent a lot of time alone boiling sap at night and found it relaxing despite the busy routine. The evaporator became predictable as I learned it’s needs for sap and firewood. A practiced routine of stoking the large fire box developed. Testing the boiling sap and drawing off the batches like clockwork. Filtering the hot syrup and jugging it up. There was little time for sitting until the end of the day when most of the sap was gone. The process of firing down has its own list of tasks before shutting down completely. There was plenty of time for thinking though. I kept a pen and notebook handy for jotting down random thoughts. I kept no meal schedule and basically ate whenever I could grab something out of my lunchbox. In any given day I consumed a fair amount of fresh syrup. I sample a small amount from each batch. Over the course of a long day it adds up! But crafting quality maple syrup is a prideful vocation and I strive for success. We’d average about 10 gallons a day with a decent sap run. But sap runs are fickle and unpredictable. We’d sometimes find ourselves swamped by a huge run and I’d find myself putting in an extra long day. 24 gallons is pretty much my one day record for our small operation. That’s a long day!The years passed and I found myself increasingly busy with my work. But I’d always find time to get to the woods for the gather. Saturday’s and Sunday’s were spent boiling to give my father a break. I managed to be off work some syrup seasons and it became a goal of mine. Get time off for sugaring! Not something every employer understands or tolerates well. No matter! When your hobby lasts only a few weeks each spring there’s no time for postponing it. So I managed as best I could to find a balance. After all, there’s a finite number of syrup seasons in a person’s life! I remember the spring of 1994. I was in between jobs and looking forward to maple syrup season when a call to return to work came one afternoon. Oswego County. Too far to drive so I had to live out of town. But I would return each Friday night to be able to help out in the sugar house for the weekend. The ice storms of 1991 and 1998 heavily damaged our sugarbush. We cleared the trails and salvaged the firewood. We had to say goodbye to some of our favorite trees. It’s painful in a strange manner. But that’s nature. Some seasons were short and others were almost perfect. Weather is the biggest factor of sugaring. So here I am.Thursday.March 4th.2021. We started setting taps Monday. We hit a count of 62 then a wind driven snow storm forced us to quit. Bitter winds and cold the past two days have kept us out of the woods. We hope to resume our tapping tomorrow. The weather is breaking next week and we need to be ready! Time will not wait nor will the sugar season.Perhaps we tried to start a little too early this year. I know we missed a small run over the weekend. But maple sugaring is a game of chance and circumstances. Weather can’t be controlled. We lost our father and maple syrup mentor in June 2007. That spring was our final syrup season together. But I haven’t missed a season since. I miss my father in the sugar house. My stories of maple sugaring are many and will flow like a plentiful sap run in time. This story but lays the groundwork of a passionate hobby that borders on an obsession. There’s a magic in the motion of being a “sapsucker”. There’s an energy that I chase within our fervent endeavors. It surrounds and permeates the body with a peace that words will never capture. It must be experienced in all its many forms. In all the weather one can imagine the season will arrive and quickly pass. It’s time these stories were written and shared. But “not just yet”!
Ice Age:Part 2
The second part of our ice climbing adventure involved some travel time. Chad decided the temperatures were decent enough for us to climb in the Cascade Pass. Situated between Lake Placid and Keene its high rocky cliffs offer some great ice climbs. Parking is limited in this area but we managed to squeeze in just off the somewhat busy highway.There was a well trodden trail leading up to the series of ice falls. Two other climbers were busy preparing to ascend a rather steep looking climb. Chad chose a smaller nearby ice climb that had seen quite a bit of activity based on the packed down snow at the base of it.He instructed us to get our crampons attached to our boots while he prepared the climbing rope.To get the dynamic rope attached to a fix anchor at the top of the ice fall he’d need to free climb his way up while one of us belayed the rope out. Once he reached the top and secured the fixed anchor we could safely belay him down. Chad gave us another knot tying lesson before he started up. We buddy checked his double figure eight knot on his harness and he checked the ice belay device on my harness. Always ensuring that the carabiner is locked. He then asked me to demonstrate the proper technique for belaying the rope and braking it. His safe descent would be trusted to my attention to detail as the belayer. He decided all was well and waited for my “ on belay” command before starting up the ice. The ice was a NEI grade 3. The New England Ice grades run up to a high of grade 6 plus. Grade 3 is considered moderately difficult and would provide an excellent training location for Zane and I. Chad easily made the climb up to the top. Apparently there was already an adequate fixed anchoring point in place that was sufficient. Chad then hollered down to see if I was ready to “ weight” the rope before beginning his controlled descent. Weighting the rope allows for the stretch and is a necessary part of a safe descent. Chad made it to the bottom with no issues. Mission accomplished! Teamwork and trust are key in this sport. Our dynamic rope was in place and we were ready to begin the next portion of our training. All climbers on the ice face would always be on belay. Chad gave us instructions for climbing properly. Set the ice axes into the face. Tap,Tap to set crampons while engaging in a type of squat move. Then standing up while arching the back. He made it look easy!Our turn! Zane started first and attacked the ice face with the determination of an enthusiastic teenager!Chad had me on the belay rope and I literally held my son’s safety in my hands. Chad stayed close to me and gave Zane tips.Zane continued his ascent never falling and eventually reached a point where Chad instructed him to stop.It was a slow process and took some obvious strength to accomplish. Now the scary part! Weighting the rope! That moment where the climber puts it all on the line!Trusting the system! The equipment and his belayer! It’s a difficult moment! To stand and lean back as you weight the rope! It’s not a natural situation! We tend to want to clutch the wall not lean back into unknown air space! But it’s necessary! Zane did well and made a safe descent! Good so far! Now my turn! I charged the ice face like a fool. Wasting energy and burying my ice axes deeper than necessary.Mastering the squat crampon set was tricky. I wanted to lean towards the wall. Bad idea! It forces your crampons to pop out! I’d be forced to cling tightly to my ice axes as I lost my foot holds. I struggled my way up despite my ineptitude. I crawled over one shelf in desperation and stubbornness. But I made it to the stopping point!Now here’s where it got a little difficult! I was instructed to weight the rope. Lean back he says! Yeah right! I’m scared to do that! I try! Then a bad move on my part! I grab the rope despite the fact that I am holding a sharp ice axe in each hand! Stupid I found out! I lost my footing. Dropped down. I weighted the rope like a spinning top! Chad yelled up to me! Don’t do that again! Trust the system! I eventually made it down but not like he instructed. We laughed as I reached the bottom! Epic fail but still ok!Chad gave another demonstration. Zane ascended again and made it too the very top. A good descent for him again.He was learning fast!My turn. I did somewhat better. Still wasted a lot of energy but made it to the bulge just before the top. I hesitated. I thought about quitting the ascent as a sudden fear settled over me.Zane had made it up over so I decided that I needed to as well! Trust the system they say right?Here I go! Clawing and fighting my way up! Crawling and doing whatever I could to stick the face. I made it! But… oh no! I am way up and now must descend! Chad hollered up! Trust the system! Do not grab the rope! We have you! I must say it’s very difficult to lean back into space! But I suddenly felt that old reckless feeling that sometimes hasn’t ended well for me! I weighted the rope! The stretch was frightening. I tried to follow Chad’s commands. At the bottom relief! He said that I had done much better but still needed improvement. We got to telling stories and laughing again! Chad is a cool guy!A wealth of information and experience! I asked him many questions and he always had the answers. More lessons would follow. We learned how to set ice anchors.Use various slings. Worked on our knot tying. We took a quick break for lunch. High energy bars and beef jerky for us. Trail mix for him. We cooled off quickly and it began to snow. Chad moved us to a second ice face and our climbs resumed. We began to master the squat and totally trust the system. I learned to conquer my fears at the top and began to get closer to proper descents. Zane continued to do well but I could tell the exertion was taking it’s toll. I felt it as well! Zane and I both decided that we no longer wished to belay each other. We turned our trust over to Chad. On my two final descents I decided to swing around some. Very fun and exciting! Chad complemented my trust in the system! It had taken some nerve! We finished our day with a drill Chad decided we needed. He still felt that we didn’t trust or use our crampons properly. Easy to remedy! He forced us to climb using only one ice axe! That totally forced us to climb better! We needed to set our crampons properly or fail to ascend.He didn’t send us up as far. It was an invaluable lesson! One I left with for future reference. The day was over! The wind driven snow had increased. We were shot but pumped up with adrenaline! We had done it! Safely and leaving the ledges intact! Chad had done an excellent job! We said our thanks and told him we would return again! But we would need him to be our guide! There’s a certain fear inherent in ice climbing. It’s also got a certain thrill. That place where I feel strong and confident as the years have aged me to a certain point. I chose to try this unknown sport and bring my only son into it. I question my wisdom sometimes. Do I risk his future getting him involved in extreme sports? Or do I make him well rounded? We left the ice face with new skills and a greater appreciation of winter’s power. The ice is beautiful and enchanting in some dangerous attraction of unknown intensity.Where this relationship goes is an unknown. I know I will need to become stronger and more fit before our next ice climbing adventure. Perhaps that’s a plus! All I know is this… we will never be the same ever again. Nor will we drive through the beautiful Cascade Pass as the same individuals ever again. We left a part of our spirits there on those frozen faces that will disappear with the warm breath of spring winds. The ice will return in a magical transformation of Adirondack season. That is inevitable. The question is will we return? Time will tell and so will I! “Good climbing”!
Ice Age:Part 1
Mid February approaches here in northern New York and we are surrounded by ice. Frozen streams,rivers, swamps,ponds, and lakes.Driveways and parking lots. Icicles hanging from house eaves as the sun melts rooftop snow accumulations.Ice is powerful. Cracking concrete and road surfaces.It transforms shorelines as water levels change throughout the winter. It coats highways with an almost invisible layer sometimes that we call “black ice”. Dangerous and unpredictable for drivers. Residents of northern climes have learned to dread the occasional winter ice storms. Freezing rain wreaks havoc on trees and electric power grids.Residents here remember the major ice storm of 1998. It crippled this area for weeks. I also remember a less severe one in 1991 that caused a power outage for several days. It would seem that ice is a detrimental part of living in this area. True to an extent when it disrupts our daily routines. However the annual formation of winter ice can be an outdoor enthusiast’s source of joy! Ice fishing is a favorite pastime of ours. We venture out preferably once it reaches a thickness of 6 inches or greater. It’s a subject worthy of a future post! Winter ice also provides for some great hiking opportunities. Snowshoes,skis,or just plain walking. Traveling ice enables a person to access areas that prove difficult in the warmer months. Safety is imperative always!Along the rocky cliffs of the Beaver Creek gorge ice takes on a new meaning. Huge icicles and ice falls form as winter progresses each season. Beautiful in color and detail. Hiking to view them is an annual event. I never really thought much about climbing too high on them although we have donned spikes and captured some awesome photos under them! It wasn’t until December 2020 while on an Adirondack holiday with Jennifer that I would suddenly be inspired to even consider the sport of ice climbing!We were browsing a store in the Keene Valley called The Mountaineer when it happened. One section is dedicated to climbing gear. Photos of climbers decorate the walls above a wide selection of items that were foreign to me. I found the gear interesting and intriguing.We browsed our way up to the second floor where there were even more photos of happy climbers grinning with obvious pride of accomplishment! I suppose some would call it an epiphany. I suddenly was struck with an intense curiosity! What did it take to be a climber? Rock climbing never struck me as a hobby that I would pursue even though I love high places. But ice? Hmm…. what if? I asked a clerk about renting gear and how did an individual break into the sport of ice climbing?I learned that a guide could be hired for an introductory training session. I consulted Jennifer. A Xmas gift for Zane? For us to try together? I wondered if I was even fit enough or had the nerve to try it in the first place. I left with the information to enroll in a class in January if I decided to sign up. I wasn’t even sure if Zane was interested so later that evening I decided to flat out ask him. Yes, it spoiled the element of surprise but this was no ordinary adventure! He seemed receptive and interested so the next day I got us signed up for a January date. So began the process of booking a room and making preparations. It was settled to a degree. Xmas was past and our date was fast approaching when we decided to expand our adventure to include volunteer work working on the Saranac Lake Winter Carnival Ice Palace project. But nature is fickle sometimes. I was packing the car for our adventures when the call came in from The Mountaineer. Subzero temperatures were forecast forcing a cancellation. Unsafe and ill advised to ice climb. They were cancelling all weekend excursions for safety.I was directed to call a local guide service for a possible rebooking.It was at this moment that I was introduced to Adirondack Rock and River Guide. The owner and founder “Ed” took my call. In business since 1988 he had lots of questions about our expectations for an adventure. He recommended we book out a week and hire one of his guides to train us for our ice climbing outing. All equipment would be provided, training,and a custom climb would be tailored to ensure a safe trip.It was on again!Booked and on the calendar. Jennifer mentioned to me that Adirondack Rock and River also had lodging and other activities.But finding rooms on short notice is sometimes difficult during the busy Adirondack winter season. We settled for a motel in nearby Wilmington after traveling up Saturday afternoon. I wanted us fresh and ready Sunday morning for our big day! Zane loves getting away and spending time together for a night regardless of our destination. We enjoy our conversation time, meals, and hunkering down in a cozy, warm room. Sunday morning the temperature hovered around 0 degrees but the daytime temperature was forecast for about 20 degrees. We arrived at Adirondack Rock and River early to find Ed shoveling some snow around the walkways between the various buildings. He commented that we were way too early but invited us to tour the lodge that was unoccupied. He gave us some further instructions while we bantered back and forth for a time. We gathered some history on each other then he returned to his shoveling. I thought it was cool that he as the owner shoveled snow!To not describe the quiet beauty of the location would fail to properly tell the story of our day! The complex is located at the very end of Alstead Hill Road just outside of Keene, N.Y. A flat location with mountains surrounding it in all directions.The Jackrabbit Ski Trail connects to one of the parking sections. A popular destination of cross country skiers and hikers this trail network provides a long connecting route to several local villages. The complex consists of three structures and a couple wood shed type buildings. There’s the main house and the two separate lodges. The stone fireplace in the Climbers Lodge is easily the largest that I have ever seen!We were outside enjoying the scenery when our guide pulled in promptly at 8:30. He hopped out of his truck and introduced himself as Chad. He was not a huge fellow but super lean and strong looking. Obviously fit. I guessed his age at 30 something but later learned he was 47! I liked him immediately.His calm demeanor and casual questions about our expectations for the day quickly squashed my coffee fueled anxiety. A veteran ice climber of 20 plus years he assured us we would enjoy the day. We headed into the lower level of the Guide’s lodge to be fitted for gear, sign paperwork, and have our personal gear inspected. Pictures of ice and rock climbers adorn the walls with an assortment of antique climbing gear filling in the gaps. Chad continued his questions. “ Do you want to spend 2 hours of your day in here learning about equipment or get out there and learn at the base of the ice falls?” He asked. He seemed pleased when we said let’s get right to it! I honestly told him we weren’t even sure we could do it or even wish to return. So began our formal education of being safely fitted with equipment.New words and terms to learn. It was exciting and interesting!Zane asked me if I was nervous when Chad left the room to grab some gear. “ Yes! I am! You?” I replied! He admitted he was nervous too! I simply stated that we needed to listen and follow all the instructions. Chad returned and the fitting began. Step one: ice climbing boots. Double type recommended for warmth. Some ice climbers prefer single boots but sacrifice some warmth for mobility. Step two: crampons. Fitted and adjusted to boot size. Sharp spikes front and bottom. Step three: helmets. Similar to a hard hat but with a lower profile. Step four: VIP! a harness. Proper fit is crucial!Chad took extra time with this step with good reason we’d later learn. Step five : an ice belay on a locking carabiner. Then the ropes used for climbing. Also crucial! We’d rely on one primarily. Color coded and labeled,we’d learn to recognize it as a “dynamic” rope. It’s composition allows a 7% stretch. So for a 100 ft extension it will stretch 7 ft! A safety consideration on the ice face. Super strong and inspected each time it’s used. We also took a “static line” rope. No stretch and used as a special purpose backup. Chad also carried a variety of carabiners, slings, and items that we couldn’t even identify at that moment. Ice climbing is considered an “extreme” sport. Dangerous if not equipped properly. Dangerous if attempting without proper training. Hiring a licensed guide is the best approach. We purchased a package deal with equipment provided as well as the guide.SAFETY,SAFETY,SAFETY!!! I brought us there for fun not a tragic experience!Sure there’s some risk but minimal when all risks are factored as possibilities. Next a lesson in proper knots and tying them. A little intimidating at first but Chad gave us “ crutches” to help us remember them!We learned the “figure 8 and double figure 8”. All important and always buddy checked! Our crash course lasted about an hour and Chad deemed us fitted and ready to roll! I will end part 1 here! The actual climbing adventure deserves its own story now that you know the basics! Did you learn anything?🤔