Clowning Around At The Ice Palace

Posted on February 16, 2024February 16, 2024 by Greg Washburn

Mid February arrived yesterday and we have returned to winter weather. It’s actually snowing right now and we got about 5” over the night. Over the past few weeks we’ve had some unbelievably warm weather! It hit 52 degrees February 3rd. At the time of writing this the Saranac Lake Winter Carnival has come and gone. The Ice Palace lies in a giant pile of some 3000 plus blocks.Torn down and forgotten to most people. But a success story in its brief moments of glory. The warm weather had threatened it severely and it was blocked off at one point for safety reasons. It becomes a liability unfortunately and gets torn down soon after carnival. I never got to see the final palace in person as I had to get busy back here in the valley with other projects. But from the pictures it was quite the final build! This story centers on my final days of of volunteering.

Tarps were placed to protect the palace.

Patrick Bourcy and I had decided to head up to volunteer once more on Monday January the 29th. The ice palace was moving along nicely despite work being canceled on the previous Friday due to warm temperatures and heavy rain. I had stayed up to volunteer that Thursday but received the word that the build was canceled for Friday. Since my room was already booked I stayed in town and wandered downtown for some dinner. I talked to some people I knew who were out and made some new acquaintances before the evening was over. Getting most people to tell their stories is easy once you get them started! It’s an interesting part of any adventure for me. I watched a number of individuals participating in karaoke at the Waterhole before walking back to my rental. Great entertainment and some of them were very talented! I am not a karaoke singer but encouraged one fellow to get up and sing a song that I recommended. He sang Rooster by Alice In Chains. A grunge era classic and the crowd loved his performance! I made the best of my last evening there and enjoyed my walk back beside the quiet streets. Living at the farm homestead does not offer those kinds of moments. It’s nice at times just to have a little social interaction. A throwback to my former days decades ago but very different for me now. Time has changed many things. Me most of all. And I have wandered far from the story. But I wanted to try and capture a little something of the energy of the village itself. The lights of the Hotel Saranac lighting up the night sky over the town. Noisy revelers heard in several of the bars I passed on my walk back closed doors where they were busy talking about who knows what topics. There’s a certain romantic charm hanging over the village where most have settled into warm confines as I walk the streets alone to return to my own cozy space for the night. Perhaps you must experience it. Perhaps it’s just me. Distant yet part of something at the same time. That’s pretty heavy! 😂

The drive up Monday. Music and watching for deer in a blurry quick photo.

I met Patrick Bourcy Monday morning in Tupper Lake and caught up on recent news on the short drive to Saranac Lake. We had both decided to support the Creepy Carnival theme and had brought masks. He’s a big Friday The 13th fan so his Jason mask was no surprise. I had my leftover Halloween costume from my October stay at Birch’s Lakeside in Cranberry Lake from when I participated in the Halloween party there. We hit the ice prepared! Ice saw in hand and ready for action! Lots of laughs and some pretty funny photos!

The ice cutting went by way too fast it seemed. There were lots of volunteers and we were disappointed that that didn’t cut a lot more. But we had a good time and wandered over to help the ice carvers for awhile. It was a pretty warm day really so getting cold wasn’t a problem. People loved our costumes and we got in a bunch of photos!

We spent a lot of our day making slush and hauling it up to the palace. I had no interest in walking the now much higher walls. The palace was growing nicely and there was an abundance of volunteers so finding a job was challenging at times. But we managed to stay busy and the day would pass. Part of me wanted to return to finish the ice palace but I knew that I couldn’t spare anymore time there. Due to everyone’s tremendous effort the ice palace was finished on time for the opening date of Winter Carnival. Photos of the fireworks were awesome and Patrick Bourcy was actually there that Saturday with his daughter to see them.

In reflection I am very happy that Patrick and I got to volunteer with the build this year! It’s always a great time! I hope to return next winter to continue my trend. This made year 4 for me assisting as a volunteer. I’d go everyday if I could figure out how to rent the time properly. That’s hard to calculate with the weather being such a wild card. But it’s very far in the future now it seems. Or is it? Time speeds by quickly and those things that seem so far away often find us quicker then we expect. My time in the Adirondacks is the ultimate battery charging moment. Throwing energy into beautiful settings and into life changing moments. The farm homestead grounds a piece of me yet the call of the wild beckons always. Finding the balance is the goal. Perhaps I have already found it. Things can cloud the mind and hide the sun at times. Overthinking can be detrimental but focus remains important to me. I do know this: I am searching for something. Beautifully elusive and connected to nature in a grand series of invisible dots. I don’t know what waits for me out there over that next hill. Or even who will join me in this grand wander of time and circumstance. But isn’t that what awakens our spirit energy? Hope and belief in the future? The exciting arrival of new seasons and new adventures? MOONTABS continue to add up with each passing day. All kinds. Life is unpredictable. I’m happy. I’m sad. I’m just ok. Blissfully lost in simple moments or bogged down in heavy mud. But I am moving forward. Making better health decisions and following most of my doctor’s orders. (Sawing ice wasn’t on my list of rehabilitation exercises!)I can’t control many things but I can control my reaction to those things when I choose that level of resolve. Writing here on this page is a good place to settle my thoughts for a few moments in time. Remember those forests of Tazmania? That fictional destination I take you where you might get lost or be lost right about now? Don’t worry I’ll get you back! I’m wandering around there identifying trees in the forest. The snow continues to fall and add up here at the tiny cabin. What to do next…🤔✍️

The Cutting Crew:The Rhythm Of Regiment

Posted on February 2, 2024February 4, 2024 by Greg Washburn

February. The turning point of winter for me.Maple syrup season is but a few short weeks away at this point. Are we ready for it?Never really to be honest! But that’s another story! It’s been a very strange winter to say the least. My health scare taking center stage as the new year had barely begun would change my direction to a degree. But I have bounced back and made some substantial progress I like to think. Also another story. But isn’t that what life’s all about? A series of stories interwoven into a journey of unknown destinations. The spirit energy rises and falls like the mercury in an an old thermometer. (Funny in this digital age that those might become unknown to younger people!)Living at the farm property that I now call “The Homestead” has grounded me in a most positive manner. Also another story! This story is way more fun to tell!

I have been following the progress of the “growing” ice on Lake Flower as the 2024 Saranac Lake Winter Carnival loomed on the horizon. There was a February 2nd deadline for completion of the annual ice palace and the weather was going to tell the story far beyond human control. However volunteers got out on the 3.5” thick ice of early January and kept it clear of snow. Slowly the depth of the ice in what’s known as Pontiac Bay began to grow. 10” would be needed to start cutting the blocks. If you are new to this page I would suggest going back into my posts and reading about our previous volunteering activities for the project. We started volunteering in 2021 and have made some great MOONTABS! The ice continued to grow with some cold nights and chiller temperatures. The start date for the build was slated for January 22nd. I made my plans accordingly,dropping everything so I could attend day one! I dug out my old antique ice saw, contacted my room rental person, and packed my gear in anticipation of the work that lay ahead. I also invited my good friend Patrick Bourcy to come with me. Zane had to begin his second semester of college and couldn’t accompany me. A first since we had begun volunteering in 2021. It gave me pause to think about all the changes that find us along this journey of life. If you don’t remember Patrick Bourcy he’s the founder of the Facebook group “Just Go Outside”. We get together for some fun adventures when time allows. So it was on! My doctor had consoled against me using the ice saw so Patrick would be my saw buddy! I hit the road at 6am that Monday morning for the 2 hour plus trip to Saranac Lake picking up Patrick in Tupper Lake in anticipation of the 8am start time. We got there in plenty of time and after signing in waited for our instructions from the ice field foreman. Dean is a veteran of 40 plus years of ice palace building and we waited patiently for his orders. I saw a few people that I had met from previous years volunteering and we exchanged greetings like members of a class reunion. There were new faces and new acquaintances to meet as we waited for the motorized ice saw to make its appearance. All was ready.

Patrick takes a turn at opening “the chute”.

The layout crew snapped some chalk lines to get the initial ice field set up square. A chainsaw was used to open the “chute” to the excavator that would pluck the blocks of ice from the newly opened water. It’s a time consuming task but necessary for progress to begin. Once opened the chute would be opened each morning for the daily ice block harvest.You might ask how do we get to be part of the ice cutting crew? That’s easy! I showed up with my personal ice saw in 2021 and made it happen as they needed volunteers.The rest is history as they say. Making the “cutting crew” is more brawn then brains! I fit right in!😂But being a member of the cutting crew also involves playing the game of personalities! Taking orders from “several bosses” can be tricky. Staying chill is key. Learn your job and do it right. Always try to be one step ahead. It’s a team effort and there’s a rhythm of regiment that must be followed. After all we are opening the ice field and creating open water sections. Safety becomes important. So it’s a team effort and it’s best to remain quiet and follow orders! Getting kicked off the team would be a crushing blow to an Icewalker turned laborer. What’s the big deal being a cutter? Perhaps you need to be there. I have loved it from day one! But I have an obsession with ice and a compulsive love of menial task so I enter a special place out there on the ice field. There’s an air of anticipation that always seems to permeate the atmosphere. Free the blocks so the pike polers can get them to the chute so the ice palace build can start. It’s almost too intense in a comical way! We can cut the blocks way faster then they can be removed from the chute. But there’s more to it then that honestly. The cutting crew moves onto other tasks once their frozen gems are released to float the ever enlarging piece of open water. I don’t mind the push or the frenzied energy of the daily routine. It reminds me of my former years on numerous construction sites. Work is work and task is task. Wear the harness you are given and plow through each day.

The ice saw makes the block layout that we cut free.

I probably did more cutting then my doctor had advised but he had cleared me for running a chainsaw so I found my comfortable groove out on the ice field and kept it. Besides he had no clue about the size of the chainsaw I run! He never asked!😂 Besides I felt great and there was no holding be back. I had my saw buddy Patrick there with me anyway. Most years I would “stick” the field until all the cuts were made despite how tired I got. That’s how I made the crew in the first place. I had a secret weapon anyway. My super sharp ice saw was superior to anything else out there being used. So I could make it look easier then it actually was really! Hey work smarter not harder was something I had learned as an electrician apprentice many years ago.We were cutting on only 10” of ice which was the minimum that could be used. The motorized ice saw does most of the cutting. We just make the final cuts needed to get the blocks ready for the “spud crew”.

So the spud crew consists of 4 individuals who strike a three block section of the ice that the cutters have prepared ahead of them. They follow us and down the ice field. It’s important that we never get cuts to far ahead of them as sections can suddenly break loose and toss the spud men into the water! Losing the ice spuds would be bad! Ice tools are valuable! 😂 All joking aside we take safety seriously! I have never seen anyone go in but have witnessed some very close calls! Zane never cared for cutting ice but could always be found on the spud crew. I was always of how he fit right in with the older men. He was strong and capable so was excepted into the group. I was missing him this year but perhaps he will get to return again.

The ice cutting usually only takes about 2 hours or less and the crew moves on to other jobs. I took a job slushing in the newly placed ice blocks as the walls of the ice palace began to take shape. It’s an important part of the build acting like a mortar to freeze everything together. Patrick took a job hauling slush from the slush pit where several volunteers mix snow and water to create it. It takes many buckets of slush to “grout” in the blocks! Especially around the corners. The pike pole volunteers stay busy getting the blocks to the excavator where this older fellow Cliff gracefully plucks one after another most of the day!

It’s important to note that we never go hungry while working on the build! The coffee ladies of the Civic Committee show up with coffee and hot chocolate. Also breakfast sandwiches and sweet treats! Yum! A 50/50 mixture of coffee and hot chocolate is a favorite choice for volunteers. Lunch is provided most days by a local business who delivers the famous “ bowl and roll”. A cup of hot soup and a large buttered roll! Yum! One things for certain at this annual event: community spirit! The village pulls together volunteering and local businesses donate all sorts of things. Even heavy equipment! There’s never a dull moment that’s for sure. The ice palace build is a beehive of activity.

Patrick and I stayed most of the day helping out. I got a joke going with him shouting out “mud here!” when I ran out of slush! On the construction sites of my long career masons would yell out “mud here” to the mason tenders if their mortar boards needed mortar. I found it appropriate and no one knew why I was yelling it so it became even more entertaining! Patrick said he didn’t know me to the other volunteers! So lots of laughs! It’s refreshing to throw yourself into something so out of the ordinary I find. Far different then my days at the farm often working alone. It’s a nice change being around people and having fun while doing something rewarding. Day one went by super fast and the build had successfully started with no major hurdles. There was plenty of work to come in the days ahead but we had something to show for our efforts! I made plans to return for additional days of volunteering but that is another story! MOONTABS were being made in what I call “MOONTABS In Motion!✍️

Jumping Ahead:The Catch 22

Posted on October 6, 2023October 6, 2023 by Greg Washburn

I have decided tonight to jump way head on my recent timeline and share my most recent adventure. At some point I will return to part 2 of the Mow Dawg story and finish the Quebec bush series in time. But since I returned to life on the Adirondack clock late last Sunday there’s a lot of current life to share! Not to worry as each story needs it’s time to be properly told!

Settled in at Birch’s Lakeside Sunday night.

Back during the summer I booked a 15 day campground stay in Cranberry Lake, New York at Birch’s Lakeside Campground. I got a good daily rate and the store out front is a nice perk! I pulled it together quickly and prepared the travel trailer to leave last weekend. It’s not a super long drive to Cranberry Lake and I got here fairly quickly. I even got parked and set up rather quickly. I had to run to go buy some firewood however and barely missed hitting a deer in the process!A campfire was in order and I enjoyed a late evening with no bugs!

Monday would find me fine tuning my campsite and organizing for adventures. It was a calm and beautiful day here on the lake! I decided an afternoon hike was in order so Stella the dog and I headed right up the road to the Brandy Brook trailhead. It’s a lovely hike through the forest and at 3.4 miles in you find yourself at Brandy Brook Flow where the creek runs into the lake. The trail was littered with layers of freshly fallen leaves but many more still clung to the trees above. It was a very warm day and there’s been no rain in sometime so things are pretty dry. No mud on this trail! I took quite a few pictures as we leisurely did the 6.8 mile in/out trek. We only saw 2 other hikers. One fellow had set out to do the Cranberry Lake 50. A local hiking challenge that he planned to do in 3 days while camping each night. We had hiked enough by 5pm and returned to the campsite where I enjoyed and evening reading.

Tuesday morning was spent writing a rhyming tribute to an elderly friend’s family. He had passed away late Monday evening and I was very saddened by the news as I had just seen him Sunday morning. I titled my story “The Falling Leaves” and it will be given to the family soon. Tuesday afternoon would find me unexpectedly teaming up with Patrick Bourcy ( the creator of the Facebook group Just Go Outside) for a late day assault on Ampersand Mountain near Saranac Lake. It was another warm day and we were both challenged to make the 5.4 mile round trip. But the views and our conversations catching up would lift me up to a better place. It’s hard to be sad when standing on the summit of Ampersand’s bare rock with beautiful fall foliage surrounding you on all the horizons. We didn’t make it out until after dark however as the descent was difficult for me. But a successful day had been lived.

From Ampersand looking towards Middle Saranac Lake.

Patrick and I teamed up again on Wednesday to see about getting some good content for our social media activities. It was another super warm day that we started with a couple waterfalls near here. We visited Twin Falls and Rainbow Falls for some great autumn shots. But more importantly we enjoyed the moment itself. Water, colored leaves, and the local historical ruins that nature is reclaiming. What’s not to like?

Our next stop would be a just past Tupper Lake to the Buck Mountain fire tower trailhead. It’s a short but ascending 1.2 mile trek up to the top where the 60’ steel fire tower steps await you. The 360 degree views are outstanding! We were still going strong but were getting pretty warm as it was close to 80 degrees after lunch.

Just a short distance away Patrick and I tackled the Coney Mountain trailhead. Also short and sweet at about a mile plus with a circular ascending trail. Pretty rocky in spots but a great trail overall. Bone dry from the absence of any recent rainfall.From Coney you can look across and see nearby Goodman Mountain. Also a nice hike but we were out of time as we had an evening destination.

Our final trek took us just past the village of Tupper Lake to the Mt.Arab trailhead. Our plan was to stay until dark to maximize possible photo opportunities. Not to mention enjoy ourselves! But both of us were getting tapped out and the short but uphill hike really slowed us down! Even Stella the dog was beat! We made it in plenty of time to watch the sunset and meet up with a friend of Patrick’s Jessica. We all watched the sunset from our breezy perch in the top of the fire tower. I was entranced by the lights appearing down in the village where life was happening below us some distance away. The high peaks grew shadowy in the distance as the light departed and it was truly amazing! The hike out in the dark was ok but we were all pretty whipped!

Thursday was a paddle day with good friend Jennifer up to Axton’s Landing above Tupper Lake along the Raquette River. The river was the lowest I had seen it in the several times that I have been there. We paddled upstream to the point that Stony Brook flows into the river. Our goal was to reach the Stony Brook Ponds to explore a section we had been unable to visit on a previous trip years ago. High winds had made it impossible to cross the ponds. We were lucky Thursday though although the current was rather swift in the winding twists of the upstream paddle to the first pond. Coupled with the shallow water and weeds it kept us paddling! Stella the dog was enjoying the ride which was great as she had really hiked the other 3 days of the week so far. We had no problem crossing the first pond then under a bridge to the next. We found a lovely sandy beach to relax from some snacks while Stella played in the shallows. It was so warm and pleasant considering it was October! We hadn’t realized it until we reached the shore but we were on a state owned primitive campsites with a fire pit,table, and throne privy up in the woods beyond the tent pad. We were at number 6 and later we identified most of the 5 others. We had a easier paddle back downstream in the current of the creek and river. Off to dinner at Amado’s in the village of Tupper Lake. Great place with great selections that you won’t find anywhere else!

So here we are finally! Today! The wind was blowing hard all night and was still going strong this morning. Dark clouds were competing with a small sliver of sunshine that greeted me from my beach chair at the campground while having coffee. I took several photos and just relaxed into the morning. I had a plan though. A short drive to a local ghost town which I won’t name. I found it just as the locals had told me it would be. Several old buildings in different states of decay and neglect. The flat grounds were not mowed and were being overtaken by small emerging pine trees. It was once a busy place but now deserted.One that was reaching the point of no return. I felt a good energy there though. Not the creepy energy that can sometimes chill me in places similar to this. I didn’t try to enter any of the buildings and soon left for my next stop.

The final stop of the day was just outside the hamlet of Wanakena a short distance from my campsite in Cranberry Lake. Wanakena is an interesting place with history and is known for the forest ranger school that is located nearby. My trek would take me onto lands managed by the school. My goal was a fire tower that was on a ridge somewhere there. I hadn’t bothered to do any prior research but a local at the store said I would easily find it. I parked along Route 3 and starting following a well maintained gravel road. Good so far! However the road suddenly forked and there were no signs pointing anywhere. I chose to go left as the lay of the land seemed more inclined for a fire tower. I went a short distance and discovered a trail marked ESF trail 22. It seemed to head slightly upwards so I figured I was headed in the right direction. But it soon began zigging and zagging without heading uphill so I returned to the road. I went a short distance but changed my mind and headed back to the fork. I took off in the new direction and shortly after ran into 3 women who had come from the fire tower. I asked a couple questions but didn’t ask about distance. One helpful lady said: “go until you see a yellow marker that is marked FT.”(FT for fire tower I assumed). So with a quick thanks I continued on. The road was smooth and the forest along it was vibrantly fragrant with balsams almost hanging into the road. This is great I thought! I stopped to admire some tamaracks that were just beginning to turn yellow. They will turn a beautiful golden color later in the fall before dropping their needles. They shed them each year much like a deciduous tree sheds it’s leaves.

I soon reached another fork in the road. Once again no signs or markers. It headed uphill and I should have given it more thought but hadn’t the lady said go until you see the FT marker? So I continued to follow the mostly flat road which eventually turned a corner around the end of a large ridge. Another ridge appeared to the right so I guessed it was probably where the fire tower could be. More walking and still no marker. I got a photo of a red squirrel carrying a large mushroom which I guessed to be non poisonous but who knows? A jumped a couple ruffed grouse back in the thick cover near the road. Chickadees suddenly filled the trees next to me and I got a nice video of them. They always seem so glad to see invaders to their woods! The road kept going and so did I. I spotted a snowmobile trail marker that led to a pond off in the low lands in the distance so I drifted off the main road to check it out. By now I realized that there was no way the fire tower was anywhere close by. This land was too flat! I had been hearing chainsaws and soon got close to a group of ranger student workers busy with logs and firewood. They didn’t see me so I decided to turn back as I wasn’t sure exactly where I was headed and didn’t want to ask directions! I returned the way I had come and when I reached the next fork I took it! It was headed uphill after all! I kept on hiking uphill for quite awhile and it seemed promising! Still no FT markers though. I was about to reconsider my options when I spotted yet another fork. This one had an FT marker! Yes success! I continued to go uphill and after passing several more markers I was rewarded with my first glimpse of the fire tower!

I checked out a picnic area and kiosk type display board before ascending the tower. Once there I stayed quite awhile as no one else was around. Beautiful views in all directions and I could even see Route 3 where I had left the truck. From my high perch it was easy to see the lay of the land that I had walked. I think had I approached the workers there would have been a trail near them as one leaves the mountain and heads off to where I could still hear their chainsaws. I decided to leave as I could see rain clouds off in the distance heading closer. At the base of the tower I noticed a trail marker. ESF trail 22. Hey wasn’t that the one I had started out on once? Maybe it’s the same one and a shortcut I thought! So off I went following a well defined and marked trail. But suddenly the markers were no longer there but no matter I could still see a faint trail in the leaves. I would see an occasional marker ribbon and sawn off stumps along the trail. But headed off into some old log skidder ruts the trail suddenly stopped. Blocked by fallen trees and no sign of anything. I backtracked a bit but found nothing. I could hear traffic from over where I knew the road should be so decided to bushwhack my way out. I wasn’t too keen of backtracking as I had already done enough of that for one day! To my credit the route I chose actually put me back onto the trail. Eventually the markers returned and I reached the spot where I had first ventured up ESF trail 22.

In conclusion I recommend hiking to the Cathedral Rock fire tower. Stick to the road though it’s easier. As for ESF trail 22? It’s a real “catch 22”. If it was dark and there was no traffic sound a person could get lost I suppose. But not long rest assured! The gravel fire roads cross and intersect the property. You’d probably find your way out. There’s no phone service there btw! So use a map or a gps type positioning device. Or just go in blind like I did! Ask for directions that you don’t exactly get correct. Or just wander away from people who would have gladly steered me in the right direction! Stubbornness is a fault sometimes but I had a fun and meaningful experience! As I got to the truck the rain got heavier. Now well after dark it’s pounding on the metal roof of the Airstream like a group of drummers! And tomorrow is another day with new destinations to reach! MOONTABS to all!✍️

Prepping For:The Return To the Bush

Posted on August 22, 2023August 22, 2023 by Greg Washburn

Time passed quickly. One moment it seemed our Summer 2023 bush adventure was so very far away. But little by little it drew closer. Months became weeks that became days. We started planning much earlier this year. 10 people had expressed interest in going with our party as we had a large cabin rented. One by one they dropped away until a mere 7 remained. Our friend Gregger held at a meeting at his camp to finalize plans two weeks ahead of our trip. 6 attended and shortly after another person dropped from the trip. We were to be a group of 6 in the end. It would take 2 trucks to get us to the outfitter’s landing. Our destination was approximately 375 miles away in western Quebec. The same location as last year so that took some of the travel unknowns out of the equation. Not to mention it helped immensely knowing what we should bring and what not to bring. I started packing early on to avoid the hasty method I had used in 2022. Our pile of gear began to grow in size next to the wood stove at Camp Edith.

I wanted to bring along some extra gear this year that would enhance the visual aspect of our trip. I rigged up a Gro Pro style mini camera on my old hard hat for hands free video recording. I also purchased a small drone that would work in the absence of cell phone service. I purchased Best Buy Total Protection insurance for it as well. Just in case of an accident. My biggest decision came down to renting a satellite phone. We had decided that it was a good idea to have one. I ended up purchasing one after getting a price for renting one. A no brainer considering the promotional offer I took advantage of with a long term strategy in mind. The satellite phone arrived over a week before our trip and I got familiar with its basic operations. Tested it a few times as well. It’s supposed to work just about anywhere in the world. We would soon see!

Iridium Satellite phone with accessories in a waterproof case.

Another situation that had to be addressed was learning to pilot the drone. Zane has one that he seldom uses but I wanted my own. We test fly both drones one windy Saturday over my Uncles meadows where the hay had been cut already. Losing them is always a possibility and my insurance doesn’t cover that! We had a great time despite the wind almost taking off with Zane’s! Mine uses my phone for its main screen. A feature that would come in handy in the bush. I got pretty comfortable with it rather quickly but like to fly with a line of sight method. Not desirable when I begin to fly to upper elevations. It’s going to take some practice! Flight times would vary and drone batteries draw down after around 30 minutes of flight. During the trip they would need to be charged which was no problem as we had already planned to bring our 2200 watt Honda inverter generator. Battery charging for our phones had been a problem in 2022. We would have no cell service but we all use our phones as cameras. Charging becomes necessary.I put together a special suitcase just for cables and electronic gadgets. Extra batteries, operating instructions, and a surge protector power strip were part of its contents.The drones as well. This trip was getting expensive fast!

Testing mine at the farm. Also a Snaptain product.

Next on the list was the fishing equipment. I purchased jigs, bait floats, sinkers, and small hooks. I strung 2 new Pfleuger reels with Spectra Power Pro braided line. Unbelievably strong and rather invisible. Moss green 15 pound test is my favorite. It will rarely break and has little to no stretch. Perfect for walleye fishing! I also bought 2 new rods for us. 5 of them would be broken down and stored in a plastic rod sleeve I bought years ago for a fly in bush trip. Worth every penny for the protection it gives. A 6th pole would have to travel full length. We travel with an abundance of gear. 6 reels in a padded case and 6 poles just for us. Breaking down on a one week long trip is no good so we bring plenty of fully functioning backup. I streamlined my 4 bait trays to fit into a soft sided carry holder. Grippers, hook outs, mouth spreaders, and scissors were stored there as well. Keeping the fish uninjured and released quickly is part of our mindset. Having the proper tools enables us to do just that. But we certainly don’t release all of them! Some get eaten! We also use a rubber net. Things don’t tangle like they do with a mesh net. Our old Hummingbird fish finder was also packed. I didn’t take the time to test it prior to going on the trip. Something I would later regret! I restocked our jig assortment with a variety that was mostly blue. Blue had proven to be the hot color in 2022 on our lake.

Of course there’s a lot of other things that need to be packed for a bush trip! Clothes,rain gear, life vests,and basic toiletries. I pack a rather extensive medical/first aid bag. I even brought a 2 piece Epipen unit due to the possibility of allergic reactions that I have been getting on occasion. We would be living in a very remote location and safety is important to me. Not just my own and Zane’s but everyone. The pile of gear kept growing and we hadn’t even gotten to food yet! Food goes into a plastic tote for ease of transport. Mostly non-perishable items and canned goods. We take a small cooler for milk,eggs, and hotdogs. You never know when you might not catch fish! It been known to happen! Lac Echoani in 2016. Two days with no fish fry! So what did I forget? The sleeping bags and pillows into a tote? Check! Small cooler for bait? Check! The team record book and pen from last year? Check! Things were adding up! Little by little I gathered up everything. I even remembered my 2way radios for the 2 trucks to communicate once we lost cell phone service in Quebec. And never, never forget the Canadian cash to pay the outfitter! The exchange rate was over 25% just before we left. Passports? Check! The amount of preparation time this year amazed me! But I wanted everything to flow without any glitches!

So that’s how it all began well before our trip even started. Preparation pays off in the long run. We were all pretty excited for our week away! A chance to change our routines and break free from the valley here. A destination that would renew our spirit energy. Reunite old friends and bring in a couple new ones. A place where I would bond with my son each and every day. Life would soon be changing for him as he would be starting college soon after our trip. Out there in the bush country of the ZEC adventure awaited us. Weather the unknown variable but planned for regardless with a nonchalant attitude. Memories would be made. Our inner batteries would be recharged by tugging walleyes trying our sunken bait. Life would be very different as we synchronized to the schedules of feeding walleyes. To experience it is to truly live for the lovers of wild country. A chance to live free of the schedules of a man made society. In the bush life marches to the sound of a different drum. Oh Btw! I almost forgot the Keurig coffee maker and pods! When you travel with a generator such luxuries are possible. So check! Didn’t forget a good supply of maple syrup! Double check! There’s still a whole lot of tales to tell here! ✍️

The Icewalker’s Folly

Posted on February 17, 2023February 17, 2023 by Greg Washburn

I recently wrote about a snowshoe adventure into a new location on Sunday February 5th. The very next day I went on another snowshoe trek had been planned in advance. It was a collaboration type outing I had arranged with Patrick Bourcy several days prior. You may recognize him as the creator and energy behind the Facebook group Just Go Outside. We get together on occasion for treks where we catch up,brainstorm ideas, and basically enjoy some quality outdoor time as friends. We are a good match for outings as we enjoy challenging ourselves! We arranged for a meeting time and the weather looked favorable for a good adventure!

The plan was pretty basic for our day of fun. I had recommended that we snowshoe down the Beaver Creek gorge and visit the icefalls there. Given the variations in the weather this winter I hoped they would be better then last February. The ice falls never really formed that well in 2022. We had about a 1.5 mile trip in to reach them and given the limited snow on the surface of the wetlands I felt it would be fast traveling. I teased Patrick about becoming an Icewalker if he passed all the tests along the way. It started out as a joke that became something more by days end. We headed down across the marsh under a mostly sunny sky with temperatures rising steadily that morning.It was shaping up to be a great day! The dogs Gracie and Stella were eager to get going as they tore off ahead of us.

We reach the section known as “The Wide Channel”.

Conditions were pretty stable on the ice for the most part but there were several places where we broke through as we traveled over boggy sections that were covered with snow. Patrick was the first to break through but he didn’t get wet. He was right behind me when it happened which was strange because I hadn’t broken through at all! The trek took us past several active beaver colonies with low dams that crossed the span of the gorge. One has been there for many years off and on. The area just below it is a tricky place to cross as it’s boggy surface never freezes well. We both broke through several times but avoided getting wet as it’s quite shallow. The creek channel here is narrow and best avoided. I never trust traveling on it. There was an abundance of deer and coyote sign all over the wetlands but there was little other signs of life except for a few ravens. Our snowshoes on the crusty snow and ice generate a lot of noise anyway. Stealth is just about impossible. We soon reached the “Peninsula”. A steep rocky point of land that juts out into the marsh. We were close to the first set of icefalls!

Things were getting exciting as we got our first real look at the Western icefalls. We got quite near them and snapped a few photos before heading back to the thick ice of the “Wide Channel”. The creek here resembles a river for a short distance and the water is over 10 feet deep . I mentioned to Patrick that a smart Icewalker never remains on the channel immediately after the Wide Channel. It’s a tricky piece of ice real estate that never freezes well because of current,old beaver dams, and curves in the channel. I learned this the hard way years ago on a cold December day of -10 degrees Fahrenheit when I fell through almost up to my neck! I believe that I have mentioned it on this page previously. I wasn’t such a savvy Icewalker that particular day! We detoured on a direct route that took us directly to the first set of Eastern icefalls. Patrick was amazed! As was I! I never tire of this place since they are never the same from one year to the next.

We climbed around the icefalls and even managed to get up in behind one small section. It’s an icy playground to enjoy and Patrick was thrilled to be there! We worked our way down to the next set and they just kept getting better!

We played for quite awhile and took a lot of photos before heading out. As we left I gazed back upon the spot where a group of us had a picnic in the winter of 2021. I felt a twinge of sadness as one of our group that day passed on in 2022. But I pushed the sadness away as I remembered that happy afternoon of friendship and food. Patrick and I continued down the gorge on the ice of a much wider and open portion of the wetland. The ice was very stable here and we moved quickly with a slightly chilly breeze at our backs. I had decided that since the weather was so beautiful that we would leave the gorge and make our way up to the top of the Eastern rim where there were things that I wanted to show Patrick. We were still full of energy and had plenty of daylight left. It proved a bit more difficult snowshoeing through the deeper snow of forest ravine that led us upwards rather abruptly. We followed an old deer trail since it took the shortest and easiest route. There’s an impressive circular sinkhole about halfway up that I have always believed was created by surface water that found its way into an underground passage. Totally dry these days but very round almost as if a whirlpool had spun its banks into a perfect circle.The outlet of the swamp above disappears underground below the dam near this location.There must be an underground passage for the flow which reappears on the surface far below before entering Beaver Creek.I have always believed that there’s a connection to my theory of the sinkhole which would almost certainly be above it based on the adjacent solid rock formations. I suppose we will never know.

Gracie below the old dam that makes the shallow lake of the Black Ash Swamp.

We took a short break enjoying the sun at the start of the Black Ash Swamp.You may remember my accounts of the Black Ash Swamp as they have been part of other posts on this page. It was wonderful sitting in that warm February sun! I felt totally alive,thrilled, and vigorous in that now moment. We had to make a decision at this point of our adventure. Head out towards the vehicles or journey further down the top of the gorge. I knew of a large ledge and several beaver ponds that I hadn’t visited in years so I suggested that we trek down to them. It was tough going in the deeper snow breaking trail but we were still feeling pretty strong and capable. Besides I was excited to finally be so close to an area that I hadn’t seen in awhile. Enter a new phrase into my stories: “The Icewalker’s folly”. The tiny voice of reason in the back of my mind tried to get an audience but was drowned out by the noisy synapses of excitement and love of exploration! Thus the phrase would later take on significance. We picked our way through a forest that had once been very familiar to me when beaver trapping here years ago. We sidetracked a little to reach an opening in the forest canopy that I spotted from the small valley we were traveling along. It turned out to be a mostly abandoned beaver pond. One that I could barely remember and looking very different with the trees gone these days.

Our trek continued onward towards what I referred to as the “T” pond given its shape. I remembered it very differently as well when we arrived there. Gone were the trees here as well. They had been flooded, died, and then fell into the depths of the pond. We took advantage of all the pond ice we could since the snow was mostly gone on the surface. Much like it had been down on the ice of the gorge. I was beginning to feel a little fatigue and asked Patrick if he felt like pressing on. I told him it wasn’t much further and I sincerely believed that was true! I took us out to the rim of the gorge and we got some beautiful photos there! It was tough going though with drop offs, deep snow, and thick brush. We finally reached a small summit where I spotted the final beaver pond that we would need to cross. Our final destination was just across a steep ravine below us. I call it Sumac Mountain. There’s a wonderful cliff there to take photos.We were so close! But I was suddenly watching the ever lowering sun and realizing the distance we had to travel out. Patrick mentioned it as well so I listened to the tiny voice of reason when it said: Don’t be stupid Icewalker! It’s time to go back!

Our trip back became rather arduous as I continued to break trail back towards a place where we could intersect with our broken trail. I stopped for breaks more frequently but was still feeling pretty good. We finally reached the Black Ash Swamp. That location where we once had considered heading back! Crossing it was the best way out I decided. After that we would cross another beaver pond and head down a gap in the rim to reach the Beaver Creek ice for the remainder of the trek.

The surface of the Black Ash Swamp was a crusty, cratered moonscape of snow. The sun continued to sink lower and I knew that if we kept up our pace we could reach the vehicles before dark. I was quickly losing energy and I began considering waking up the inner zombie. I goofed around instead making a cool shadow video and taking photos. It was scenically beautiful though and that moment wasn’t lost to me or Patrick either. It was that place in time where evening is approaching and you realize that you wouldn’t want to be there all night. I was packed for winter survival but wouldn’t enjoy a night out!

We soldiered on and eventually reached the beaver pond that would bring us to the rim gap where we would descend. There wasn’t as much ice as I hoped and we foundered through some heavy deep snow. The gap was rugged and challenging as well but we finally reached the big creek ice. From there it was pretty straightforward and just required us to keep pushing. I never really needed to wake the inner zombie although I came close a couple times! The inner voice would occasionally chime in reminding me on the Icewalker’s motto: the distance in must be traveled out! So I suppose the Icewalker’s Folly is when I choose to ignore that sage self created advice!

We reached the vehicles with only a few minor incidents and break through. I told Patrick that he was now one of a special club of sorts. He had passed the initiative and even scored bonus points for breaking through a few times! His perform while climbing on the icefalls truly sealed the deal. As did the distance of our adventure. It can’t be called a total icewalk given our time on solid ground but it truly was a memorable trek! MOONTABS for both of us!

I dedicate this post to the late Gerald Naugle who made his final trip to the ice falls in 2021. He is truly missed! But we are truly blessed to have experienced that day and others with him! The Icewalker’s are few but worthy to note in their accomplishments! They are Zane Washburn,Jennifer Dashnaw, Gerald Naugle, his surviving wife Cathy, and the newly recognized Patrick Bourcy. Me of course. All have made it to the falls and back! Most have broken through! All have laughed and struggled! All have memories of those special days which nature allows us but a certain short time to enjoy each winter. The recent weather has turned the Beaver Creek gorge into an impassable mess. The big question is not if I will return. It’s when I will return. ✍️

February Greets The Icewalkers

Posted on February 15, 2023February 17, 2023 by Greg Washburn

Sorry if you’ve missed me!February has been a month of outdoor activities! I had planned to write about this year’s volunteer work at the end of January on the Saranac Lake Winter Carnival Ice Palace build but here it is mid-February already! I am far behind on stories these days! It will wait for now. The memories and photos aren’t going anywhere.It’s icewalking of a different type!

Over the past couple weeks I have invested a fair amount of time on snowshoe treks following a memorable one with Jen back in January to Catamount Mountain just inside the Adirondack Park. It got me fired up for winter hiking despite the fact that we haven’t had a major snow accumulation this winter that stayed given the frequent warm spells. It’s been a strange winter for weather that’s for sure! Below zero (-23 degrees Fahrenheit) on Saturday morning Feb. 4th but that was short lived. The cold snap tightened up the ice though and got me thinking about the possibilities of some quality treks on snowshoes.

I spent most of the two subzero days inside resting and getting caught up on things. Cooking as well. Something I enjoy when I decide to remain inside. Sunday Feb. 5th forecasted a warmer day with plenty of sunshine so I decided to explore an area that I have been intrigued with since seeing a satellite image of it on the geocaching app.Zane opted out of the trek but I decided to go with both Stella and Gracie the dogs regardless. The plan was simple: park at the Payne’s Lake fishing access site just outside of Oxbow,New York. I would then cross the frozen surface of the narrow lake and find a way up a gap in the cliffs I knew existed from fishing there years ago. Payne’s Lake is one of the 17 Indian River Lakes that occupy sections of both St.Law. and Lewis Counties here in the upstate region. Locals actually acknowledge that there are several other small lakes that never made the list around the area. What I had spotted on the satellite images resembled what could possibly be an ancient lakebed. As such the location begged further investigation.

I spent a little time that Sunday morning studying the satellite map but never really put things into a proper size perspective. The trek looked simple and very easy from what I could see on the map. Many times I choose not to overthink or over analyze an area I wish to explore. It takes away from the experience I feel. In hindsight perhaps I should have taken greater pains to research my proposed adventure! Before it was over I began thinking of changing the spelling of the lake’s name! It might better be spelled “Pain’s” Lake! As in aches and pains! But that’s not important as the story is just beginning!

I decided in advance to upgrade my winter survival pack with extra layers of protection. I added an emergency survival shelter and emergency blanket. Extra food and water. A rope and larger knife. I also had an led headlamp,first aid kit, and a Lifestraw water filter cylinder. Electrical tape and other small amenities make up the balance of my pack. I also strapped on a set of micro spikes and stashed a heavy winter coat inside. The pack was rather heavy but there was comfort in my state of preparedness. I would be using my Tubbs backcountry snowshoes which work great for ice walking and climbing steep grades. I was ready!

After arriving it didn’t take long to cross the lake as there were plenty of signs of ice fishing activity that established its safeness. There appeared to be at least 8” of ice after examining an open tip up hole. Plenty! I found my gap and tackled the ascent with the fresh energy of a new day. The dogs raced ahead of me sniffing around numerous deer tracks and browsing activity. I followed the deer trail as it offered the easiest way to the top. Never question that the animals will find the easiest path through rugged country. I rested on a high ledge and could see my truck across the lake. It looked rather small sitting there. It was at this moment that my mind first began to question my perception of the size of the location. Not to worry! The day was just beginning and I was a conqueror of new and exciting places! Go forth and explore with determination!

Above the lake but not on top of the cliffs yet.

I headed in a Westerly direction and soon found the waterway that I had spotted on the satellite image. It wasn’t as large as I had expected width wise but extended well out of sight to the North. I reached the ice of an old beaver pond that had once been rather deep. Impressive but not an ancient lakebed by any stretch of imagination. I tried to pull up the satellite map but was unsuccessful without adequate service. My curiosity got the best of me and I decided to head North along a series of old beaver flows. I reached a breached dam of once large proportions. It had stood over 6 feet high at some point and had washed out in one giant event if I was reading the signs correctly. A former section of forest in the pond had been reduced to tall stumps. The ice was safe although there wasn’t much to snowshoe on. Things got better when I reached a small active beaver pond just below the breached dam. There was otter sign around the dam. Droppings and tracks everywhere. The wetland below me to the North widened significantly but held little water. But there was still plenty of ice to travel forward on. This too had once been a massive beaver pond but was still not looking like the ancient lakebed I was hoping to discover. I pressed on suddenly very acute of the size of area I was headed into.

It had gotten quite warm and I was truly enjoying my trek but was concerned about the distance I still needed to cross to reach the end of the wetland. The wetland curved to the West beyond me and I had to make a decision. Keep following or take the higher ground beside the marsh and reassess my options. I got myself convinced that if I kept going I would find my lakebed. After all shouldn’t it be connected? I pushed on with renewed vigor but certainly not as fast as earlier. I was breaking trail in trackless snow. It added to the allure of exploring fresh country but took a toll on my energy. Eventually I rounded the curve of the waterway. No lakebed! Just more old beaver ponds and a creek channel that continued to curve out of sight. I pressed on after looking back at the stretch of wetlands that I had already traveled. I continued to marvel at the size of this location and how vast it suddenly seemed.

I found some fresh beaver and otter activity on the surface of the waterway in a small beaver pond with a leaking dam that was dropping the water level. I found a fish head that the otter had left behind but couldn’t identify what species it had been. It had large scales almost like a carp. Strange! It had been decent sized though and no doubt made a tasty meal for the otters. I guessed that there were two otter because of the sets of tracks I found. Not uncommon as they usually travel in pairs. I once witnessed an entire family together with 6 individuals on top of the ice! Amazing! They dove in and would pop up through open spots like furry periscopes watching my dog and I! It was comical and a priceless moment in nature.

A feeding beaver escaped its icy prison underworld.

I stopped for a trek style meal of beef jerky, chocolate, energy bars, and water. The sun was getting well on into the afternoon and I was well aware of the time. But I decided to press forward in my desire to find the lakebed. I was a little confused by the lay of the land and the fact that I hadn’t intersected another waterway. With no map or phone service I was running out of time and options. And a small voice in the back of my mind began murmuring the Icewalker’s motto: the distance traveled in must be traveled out.” That’s not always the case on a loop trek but I was having difficulty figuring out how to accomplish a loop given my lack of knowledge of the area. Soon after though the creek system would make my decision easier. I reached an old beaver dam at a choke point with high ridges on both sides. The creek narrowed and dropped down into lower forested land with limited visibility. I chose to take the high ground and leave the creek system. No continue on would be foolish given how far I had traveled. Perhaps from the high ground I would see my ancient lakebed. If it even existed. I still felt that it did but with a sinking resolve I released that I would not likely find it on this trek. As I left for the high ground I was blessed with an answer to one of my speculative theories. Grass caught in a tree several feet above the narrow creek. A lot of water had passed through here and quickly! Only the breached dam could have caused such a thing to occur! I imagined what it must have looked like as a mass of water tried to force its way down the narrow gorge. Had other dams been breached shortly after the first large one causing a mega flood? It must have been something!

It took a lot of water for this grass to be caught by this tree!

I took the high ground after a rigorous ascent but was disappointed when there was no view into the distance except more forest. I entered a section where there was evidence of old logging activities and realized that I had ventured beyond the state land while on the ice of the creek. I started in a direction that I believed would bring me back parallel to my original trek in. The snow was wet and much deeper in the forest. A series of hills added to my exertions and I was beginning to tire more then I wanted to believe. I had been keeping my bearings by the sun but it went under the clouds and became invisible. I knew my approximate location but began to be concerned that I could easily get turned around and wander in the wrong direction if I wasn’t careful. This was obviously a larger area then I had originally estimated. The little invisible voice spoke again: be careful Icewalker! You’ve entered an unknown forest and forgot your compass. Remember? It’s not in the pack. It got left on the bed! Best think this through! … Ok inner voice I hear you! I thought. But let’s not panic here! I can always backtrack.Not the fastest or easiest option.Or continue on in what I think is the right direction and search for even higher ground. Or follow my inner compass and turn left. The inner voice started in again: you’re pretty tired Icewalker! Are you sure about this? … ok inner voice be quiet! Did you forget that I am packed to stay out all night? (But the inner voice is a nagging and persistent devil!) Yes but think of the warm house and cozy recliner back there! Not to mention that yummy meatloaf in the crockpot!… in the end I turned left and soon ended up back on the creek on the wetlands. Not where I thought I would pop out though! I still had a long trek out! It would soon be time to wake up the inner zombie!My old companion!

My fatigue really started to kick in as I plodded forward back up the wetlands. I was disappointed about failing to find the lakebed but soon decided that I should be happy about my discovery of the new location. It would never be new again from this point forward. The sun was sinking lower and the air was growing chilly. I had a long way to go! I summoned the inner zombie and let him control my feet. Step,lift,step.Repeat over and over.The inner zombie loves repetitive motion and mindless task. He has no point of quitting or even thinking about quitting. This mental state sounds weird and somewhat crazy but it works with timeless predictability. There are many levels to our consciousness and the inner zombie dwells in one of mine. The distance fell behind me and the end was getting closer! The inner zombie went back to his cranial recesses and I got a surge of energy from the coming darkness. Its that survival and challenge thing that drives me into these types of places. I left the wetland and could soon see the lake! I got my feet tangled and took a wild tumble down while descending the gap. Somewhat painful so it was then that I changed the spelling of the lake. And just like that the trek was over. In the truck and traveling back. Even the dogs were exhausted!

So that’s it! An epic day of exploration. I hope to return soon and search for the lakebed. It’s there! I just know it. As for the Pulpit Rock State Forest Preserve? At 1603 acres it’s much larger then I imagined! I know that now. Until the next one! ✍️

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.✍️

The Blog For Bob!

Posted on October 8, 2022October 9, 2022 by Greg Washburn

This will probably be my shortest blog post ever! It’s a joke actually and meant to highlight a certain individual in Tupper Lake, New York.Who is Bob and why do I write of him? It might take a bit more background information to get the story told. After all how well do you even know Tupper Lake? Enter a new character.

For those of you who follow my story you know that I spend a lot of time camping at Fish Creek and Rollins Pond State Campgrounds. Work and play mixed together for a unique Adirondack living experience. I pack a lot of things from home before towing the camper up but usually stock up when I reach Tupper Lake. I find it easier get my groceries there and stock my shelves. I like the big roomie Save-A-Lot grocery store parking where I can park the truck and Airstream while shopping. I find pretty much everything I need there. The staff are friendly and helpful when I can’t! I quite often grab my firewood in Childwold at a roadside stand then tend to spread my business around town once I get parked.

It’s important to note that I don’t ever bring firewood up from the valley. Transporting firewood more than 50 miles is illegal in New York State although it’s difficult for the authorities to enforce the regulations. The law is in effect to deter the spread of invasive insects that can hitchhike within the firewood. I buy locally sourced firewood which benefits everyone especially the local citizens around Tupper Lake who sell it.I hit several local vendors at random and spread my purchases around town. One of my favorite vendors is a fellow named George. He’s always cheerful and eager to chat. Most places are self serve and there’s no human interaction. Regardless it’s nice to be contributing to the local community near where I’ve parked my rolling home.

But what about Bob? (wasn’t that a movie?) It’s a rather simple story actually. I shop at a local grocery store in Tupper Lake called Shaheens’s on occasion. They have a great selection of items,quality meats, and a nice collection of hard ciders. The staff is super friendly and they keep baggers at the end of the checkout. They will even carry your groceries out to your vehicle if you have several bags. Things move quickly at Shaheen’s and they easily accommodate the busy summer crowds. I was standing in the line one day this summer when I first noticed the very animated bagger whom I was soon to know as Bob. He was cheerful and greeted everyone as they came through the door. He knew some by name and would always say something that would make them smile! I liked him immediately for his friendly demeanor! I had never seen Bob before and things were about to get interesting!

It was my turn at the counter and I was being checked out when Bob began joking with my cashier. I couldn’t help but jump into the conversation eventually.I told Bob that he was an interesting fellow and would he mind if I wrote about him on my blog. “You’re a blogger” he asked? “What do you write about?” My reply: “Nature things mainly but I could make an exception for you! What’s your name?” Bob wouldn’t tell me name and told the cashier don’t you dare tell him! Someone nearby blurted out “ His name is Bob!”. I grabbed my bag of groceries from Bob and headed for the door. I turned back to Bob and said “ It’s going to happen sometime!”

Several months have passed and I had shopped at Shaheen’s several times but never saw Bob. In fact I had forgotten his name and the joke of writing the blog. That changed suddenly last week as I headed up towards the cashier to checkout my small basket of groceries. There he was in full force! The same animated character joking and greeting customers while bagging the customers purchases. I got to the checkout and greeted my bagger with a smile! “ Remember me? I never get around to doing that blog post on you! I forgot your name!” Bob looked at the cashier and said “ Don’t you dare tell him!”. The cashier was laughing and remained silent! Everyone in line was listening and smiling! The man behind me suddenly spoke up! “ Just tell him your name Bob!” More laughter!As I left for the door I turned to the crowd and said “Get ready the post will be coming soon!”. I mentioned the page address to the curious customers and went out the door.

When faced with waiting in line at a busy store it’s always nice if people are talking and engaging with each other. Levity is even better and it always makes the time more pleasant. It’s a small thing really to be polite and patient with a cashier who is pressured to perform quickly. I find the automated self checkouts are becoming more abundant around the North country these days. There’s something lost in that modern place of technology. Human interaction is important for a good shopping experience as far as I am concerned. And people like Bob make the experience entertaining.

So here it is folks! The short post dedicated to Bob! I hope to see him again and let him know that it’s been written! I wish to thank all the good people of Tupper Lake who work hard to make our Adirondack time more pleasant! We encounter them in the stores, restaurants, and in small shops. We truly appreciate all your efforts!

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!✍️

Bush Days:The Balance Is Struck

Posted on September 22, 2022June 5, 2023 by Greg Washburn

Today is a special for those closely connected to nature. The annual fall equinox. Equinox in Latin means equal night. That place of equal darkness and daylight. It’s always worthy of acknowledging I feel. This the first day of autumn. Nature didn’t wait for this day to start the transition though. It’s been underway for several weeks as summer days wound down. It’s easy to get too busy and miss things at times. But I had noticed. The small details of an impending autumn. As autumn arrived in 2021 I posted The Transition. My thoughts of autumn still hang there like leaves on a tree. I read it this equinox morning and found something in my own words. Nothing has changed in nature. It’s predictable here in a four season part of the world. Solid as a rocky summit. My life certainly continues to change. I draw strength from that in a complex study of time and existence. Nature will light the way once again with beautiful colors and a magical transition. The transformation I also call it. I will be returning to the Adirondacks soon to reflect as I assemble pieces to a bigger puzzle. It’s time to explore some new ground.I dedicate this post to a good friend who is fighting a battle.He likes heavy music. The band Breaking Benjamin song Down says a part of what I am trying to move past this morning. “Oh light carry me over the ground. Heavy won’t hold me down”.Got your back Bro! How ironic the equinox. Equal darkness and light today. But it’s time to get back to the bush. And run wild there in the light.

We woke up Tuesday in our home away from home bush cabin full of expectation. It was our final full day on the lake. We hit the water early fully stocked with water and snacks. The fishing was more for numbers at this point. We had cracked the 194 walleye record on Monday. Greg was talking a lot about returning in 2023 despite the minor but inconvenient problems with the cabin. The big variable would be our choice of a cabin. We had scouted the locations of some of the other cabins during the week to decide what would be our best fit. There were still numerous areas of the lake we hadn’t explored. It’s that big! We had decided on Monday that we would explore a southern finger of the lake after the morning fish. Raspberry Point was close to the unexplored section so it was a logical choice. We were wanting to find Cabin 3 to see if it was a possible 2023 destination. Typical of most mornings we were the only people out on the lake. I feel small in those moments in a wonderful manner! Big water. Big forest. Big skies. And a sudden provocative thought by me who had considered for a nanosecond tossing technology overboard: bring a drone next time. The vastness could be captured in a far different perspective than my words. Or better yet a mix of both! Or to really up the ante a triple dip. Words, drone footage, and a live presentation! Enter the challenge. Imagine bringing that to someone who had always dreamed of doing something like that but hadn’t. I know a guy! Time had run out and now he just couldn’t. A true explorer and adventurer himself but unable physically to make the trip these days. What an ultimate gift to give to a man who had inspired me greatly in so many ways. He told me once I needed to follow my heart with my writing and get it in gear. He’s here in the blog posts if you wish to ferret him out.

We were anxious to explore so we cut the morning fish short and headed south into the unknown. I was cognitive of our isolation and was being super cautious.Polarized sunglasses are a necessity when exploring bush waters. If you wear them sunken shoals and obstacles show up brown in the dark water long before you get to them. Not always though. It depends on the day. My depth finder doesn’t work well when we reach a certain speed. The cavitation messes with it. Note to self: get a better one! But the thrill of searching new territory supersedes any hesitation. Best not to let the mind wander. That’s actually a good thing.You don’t think of things like going home or all the responsibilities waiting there. The moment is all about safety and focus. We left a big open section of water behind and entered a section where my stomach churned with a mix of apprehension and excitement.Numerous small clusters of bare rocks jutting out from the points of small islands. I throttled way down and we probed our way into a section of bays with sandy beaches. We consulted the map briefly and tried to figure out how to reach Cabin 3. We decided that it must lie behind a long narrow peninsula to the left of the bow. I pushed back out into a larger section of open water and throttled back up. We rounded the peninsula and spotted a beach that begged cabin site. Yup! There it was! The person or persons who had decided to build here had chosen wisely. I tried to imagine what it must have been like to have been those people. To see the possibilities and set a plan into motion. The metric tons of work involved. The logistics of getting the materials into the bush. The logging roads we had traveled hadn’t always been there Eric later told me. Bush planes had been the norm. This entire lake had once been a fly in destination. The work they had accomplished was impressive and must have taken a lot of time.

We cautiously entered the bay that led to the cabin. I trimmed the motor up manually as I had done so often during the week and we eased towards. There were several strange looking groups of rock that seemed unnatural. As we approached them we realized that they were the remains of dock cribs.In some distant time there had been some sort of elaborate docking system here. The cabin looked deserted like no one had been there in awhile. A strange feeling came over me then. The deserted cabin and dock remains had a story behind them. We beached the boat and stepped onto a sandy beach with no human tracks on its surface. The area behind the beach was littered with old pieces of dock. Weathered and untouched for some time it appeared. There was a large deck missing it’s steps. It was entering a ghost town.The grass was long and weeds covered what had once been a yard. There was a leaning water platform similar to our cabin set up but much higher. There was no ridge to place the tanks on so the builder had built a tower. Still standing but a little tired. We entered the bush cabin because we knew it wasn’t occupied by any party of fisherman. There are never any locks on bush cabins. We follow the unwritten rules of bush etiquette. Never enter an occupied cabin without permission and respect others privacy. The cabin obviously hadn’t been occupied in awhile. There were signs of rodents everywhere. I thought about Mr. Jangles and doubted that he would like this cabin. Slim pickings and no humans to keep him company. No games of cat and mouse so it would be most boring for him. After all he was no ordinary rodent.In fact the term rodent was a bit below him. He was best represented by the word Muridae. It speaks of family and belonging to a higher order. It spoke of history and painful evolution. Nature at its finest moment. And what gives me the right to judge any life form? We as humans consider ourselves the God Species.Gods of arrogance perhaps. Best exit that unstable ground. More importantly was my twisted relationship with Mr. Jangles! I was ready for another round with him. I politely told Zane that he was out of the game. It wasn’t fair two on one! Funny the thoughts that were triggered stepping into that cabin 3.

The place had been rather nice once.Big for a bush cabin and on a remote part of the lake. With a good cleaning crew it could be brought back to life. The roof seemed intact and it was very well furnished. We pinched a nice cooking pot since our cabin lacked one. That’s bush life survival we adopted in 2016 when our outfitter didn’t provide us with everything they promised. Wrong maybe but we needed things and had no way to get them. I called it raiding and Zane loved it! I told him we were like Vikings storming a beach! We weren’t stealing since everything belonged to the same outfitter. We had found two abandoned cabins and helped ourselves to the firewood woodsheds. Our cabin woodshed had been totally empty and the nights were cold. We pinched a piece of cookware that time also. Shame on them and us! That is quite another story. Very real and a happy memory. Pure bush country MOONTABS.

We wrote cabin 3 off after that and headed back onto the lake. Eric was coming to fix the plumbing after brunch. We explored a few hidden coves before heading back. There was so much of it out there! I had hoped to explore the outlet of the lake. The map shows a set of rapids. I love waterfalls and whitewater. But there was no time for it. Greg had been clever this time around! He had brought his gps unit along and had our route mapped out. I simply followed the course it had plotted and we had full throttle cruising with no fear of sunken shoals. To think that I had considered throwing the technology overboard! Was I crazy? I do struggle with my own lemming like race into technology’s embrace sometimes. It’s recorded on these pages that live in the cloud. We are getting dangerously close to Tazmania and I would rather be cruising the lake.

The ride back was uneventful and beautiful like always. We were all thinking about leaving tomorrow I knew but we were dodging it like a squirrel crossing a busy road. The scenery drew me back into the now where I knew I was supposed to be. There was still time. And what a trip! Eric showed up shortly after we finished brunch and found the problem with the shower valve. It was plugged from debris that had collected in the gravity tanks. I liked Eric and envied his laid approach to everything even if I didn’t agreed with his idea of maintenance. But his true character was about to show itself in his disregard for convention and love of a lifestyle far from modern society. I volunteered to go help him with the leaks under the cabin. I used the opportunity to grill him with questions and soon began to build out the puzzle. The events of 2020 had really thrown the business into a tailspin. He obviously loved his girls and needed to provide for his family. 70 percent of their business had been lost over the last two years but he was counting his blessings still. Maintenance had taken the backseat by necessity. They don’t own the lake or the land. They pay an annual lease of some magnitude. He’s made it 25 years since the previous owner. I enjoyed hearing his honest testimony. Not complaining just accepting the reality. I asked him about the fish that were in the deep section of the lake. I asked if anyone ever caught lake trout here. Years ago he said but rarely now although a fellow had caught a 17 pound one a couple years back. We had been there a week and had seen very few people at all. We never saw anyone fishing for trout period.My mind began to percolate with possibilities. Things were continuing to add up.

We still hadn’t paid for trip yet and Eric hadn’t even mentioned it. We asked if they took credit cards but they weren’t set up for that. We had wondered about paying so we had brought fat stacks of Canadian money. Eric didn’t know that yet though. He said that he would tally up our bills right then and there. You can wire me the money when you return to the states he calmly stated. Talk about trust! They had never even asked for a deposit in the first place. His comment gave me pause for reflection. Such trust in these modern times! We said no worries we brought cash just in case! At the table he wrote up our bills and then turned it over to us. Sorry for all the problems with the cabin he said. I tweaked your bill. Is this amount ok? Greg and I took a quick glance then said absolutely! He had been totally fair. I then asked him the big question that I had been mulling on after discussions with my companions. How many people would we need to rent the big cabin 6? Four would seal the deal Eric said with no hesitation in his voice and no deliberation. A shock as it can accommodate over 12. I told Eric that we would discuss things and let him know.We had toured cabin 6 earlier in the week before the gun toting party crew had arrived. I immediately liked the size of it and it’s log cabin construction. Someone had taken pride in the building and it was still in pretty good shape. The ice house was adjacent to it as well. Enter another new character: Raquel. She was cleaning the cabin with one of Eric’s daughters the day we met her. On vacation herself and helping out. She was smoking on a cigarette and sipping a hard seltzer while she gave us a tour. I got a little of her story. She worked in a location that I won’t mention to respect her privacy. She fished with Eric’s girls and helped take care of them. She was French but spoke excellent English. I could hear the accent in her voice. I liked her friendly openness and hospitality letting us tour the cabin. After we left I asked Greg and Zane what they thought of cabin.They both thought it was nice. I said that I thought it was an upgrade from our cabin most certainly. We spoke of it occasionally throughout the remainder of the week.

We all enjoyed the newly functioning shower after Eric departed. Strange to think that all commuting here was by boat. I hadn’t missed driving a vehicle or had even thought about it to any degree. And just like that the day ticking forward. We decided to skip our naps and go all the way down to the outfitter’s landing. We would go right to the evening fishing locations immediately after. Our phones were all but dead. Our battery backup units were dead. We needed a generator to get things charged back up. It was a nice cruise although we hit some chop on the way while cruising the big open section where days before we had battled the storm. We recognized much of the landscape now. The familiar sight of Garbage Island rising straight up out a deep section of the lake. We had history here now. No longer greenhorns of the lake. Our walleye count was at an impressive 211! Greg was so far in the lead at this point the competition was over for Zane and I. But we all knew that it had taken a team effort to reach the count. What a week! And there was still time! The motor hummed with steady rhythm and I was awash in brilliant sunshine enjoying my surrender to the bush.

We arrived at the landing and cautiously approached the small house greeted again by the old grumpy dog. He was very protective of the girls and although I love dogs I never tried to pet him. Eric’s daughter came out to see what we wanted. We got set up for charging and learned that we could jump onto their Wi-Fi. The messages started dinging across phones as we reentered the modern world. Greg got word out to his wife on my phone as he had no service in Canada. I sent my sister a brief message letting her know that I was alive. I had a message from my foreman in Lake Placid. Enter the impending return to reality. Zane contacted his mom and just like that we were much closer to our lives back home. Raquel showed up by boat and I asked her if cabin 6 was available next August. She consulted the hand written booking journal and asked for a date. August 11th I decided after checking my phone calendar. And to think I had considered throwing my technology overboard! It’s open Raquel said. I asked Greg what he thought but he wasn’t sure that he wanted to decide so quickly. I mentioned that we should decide then or we might not get the booking. I knew both he and Zane were eager to return. They just needed a small nudge. Cabin 6 was open for the dates we wanted so I asked Raquel how much it would cost to reserve it. $100/person was needed. Raquel said we could send it after we got back to the states. I said I’ve got it right here! $300 Canadian that I don’t need back in the states. So just like that it was done! We would be returning in 2023. There was a comfort in that moment that’s difficult to put into words but I have a good idea what I was reaching for with impulsive reckless. Hope. That good health and good fortune would bring us all back to this special place with others whom we wanted to share it with. And me the pensive one felt something else. A chill below my happy surface. Too many times life had happened with no warning. Changed everything in the blink of an eye. Someday I will share portions of the story Escape Velocity. Written in May of 2018 it was as deep a place as I ever dove as a lover of words. I never finished it. It wasn’t meant to be finished I suppose. How do you finish what has just begun? But the sun was too warm for chills to linger long that afternoon.Inside or out. It was time to move past the brambles that scratch at hope.

We headed back towards the fishing spot and I took a slightly different route to mess with Greg. I knew that he’d notice eventually and I was full of mischief. Ile Quabie is massive and in my mind I had it all mapped out. This isn’t right Greg suddenly said! Really? I feigned ignorance. He caught onto my treachery when the familiar sight of Raspberry appeared with startling clarity. I privately reveled in the strength of my inner compass. It’s always been there for me.My imagination likes to think that I have some special connection to the magnetic poles. Probably it but I do know one thing thing. My compass does love to pull north.Someday I intend to head up beyond the trees all the way to Hudson Bay. I suppose my compass pulls in all four directions at once sometimes. That’s tricky.

Greg ruled the last evening of fishing although Zane and I did well. We had reached the point where we couldn’t keep any walleye so we were throwing everything back. Under sized fish were known as throwbacks. Sometime during the week Greg and Zane had started calling them “Becksteads”. In reference to a fellow colleague that Greg and I worked with years ago. (New character enter and exit). The walleye were turned on in a feeding frenzy and we were racing through our remaining bait. There came the time of the last worm. Zane got it and hooked a walleye with it. In the process of Greg netting it for him the worm dropped into the water where it began to slowly sink. I made a daring leap from my seat and made what’s know as a glove save. Wow! Greg was shaking his head and called me crazy! Didn’t go overboard though! I was down to my last leech just as it was turning dusk when I felt a huge weight on my line. I set the hook and the fight was on! The biggest one I had hooked for the trip! But it shook free without breaking my line. I was pretty bummed for awhile after that but forgot about it as we headed back watching yet another beautiful sunset. No two were ever the same. This was the final night! We settled into the evening routine a little later then usual and sat around the table while Greg tallied up the fish count. We had a combined catch of 240 walleye! A mix of keepers and Becksteads and an impressive catch on new water. We weren’t expecting any visitors but one showed up unannounced!

I was sitting in my usual spot at the end of the table when Greg nodded his head towards the stove. There he was! Mr. Jangles! But a shiver ran down my spine and I was frozen in my seat by what I was seeing! Mr. Jangles was hard at work trying to get an old smear of peanut butter from the trigger of one of the mouse traps! I hadn’t sprung them but I hadn’t baited them either. Greg thought it was funny but I watched in horror as he continued to feed. Mr. Jangles was a true master of stripping a trap. He was nonchalantly oblivious to the danger that he was in. I was worried that if I startled him it would spell disaster. He worked carefully though I soon realized. Like a safe cracker working the dial of a vault. His tiny whiskers accented his face perfectly. He had a look of elderly class. Well groomed with shiny fur unlike the other mice that had been killed early on . His eyes were small but intelligent and he made eye contact with me for a moment. Careful Mr. Jangles! Focus! It seemed like an eternity but he suddenly stepped off the trap and headed across the kitchen floor. To my great relief he ignored the other trap. Zane was headed out of the bathroom and was eager to engage Mr. Jangles but I ordered him to stand down. He obeyed my orders and Mr. Jangles disappeared into the bathroom. We never saw him again and I later regretted not trying to strike up a truce by offering him some peanut butter with crackers. Why did I surrender to Mr.Jangles? That’s tough to explain but I will take a stab at it. Perhaps I grew to respect his knack for survival. His reckless behavior. His almost playful and social demeanor. His energy of purpose when chewing through the cabin walls. A bush mouse has numerous predators. They come from all directions.Birds of prey by day and night. Weasels and mink by ground. Foxes too if they inhabit that part of the bush. A mouse’s life is short.Especially if it enters a human dwelling. Why is this so important or impressive to me? At this point in life I have developed a knack for survival. I was once reckless. I am playful and full of energy. As for predators in human society they too exist. Human not animal. Mr. Jangles shares survival with us. It’s just a different type. I see the connections to nature everywhere. They need time to show themselves on occasion. As for the mice in my farm warehouse destroying everything? Sorry! No surrender!

So we are almost at the end of this fabulous week in the Quebec bush! But it’s never over till it’s over as they say! Especially not with my companions. We had our final fish fry but not before having a campfire happy hour on the beach. We talked about 2023 and what things needed to be added to our packing lists. We had been adding to them all week. It would be time in 2023 for classic 6 “Ps” doctrine. “Proper preparation prevents piss poor performance”. I have huge plans for 2023! A generator and Keurig coffee maker. Tools and repair items. Extra phone battery backups. Who knows what else. A satellite phone would be nice. That drone set up too. Vlogging kit along for the ride. And me who had considered throwing technology overboard! We’ll be introducing some new characters we hope and checking up on some old ones. My chill had been beaten back by all that was possible. It seemed funny as we went to our bunks that we would be sleeping back home the next night. I had taken the mouse traps out of commission. We packed quickly the next morning after coffee and breakfast. Eric had dropped off a second boat for us Tuesday night because we still had to hoss a lot of freight even though we had used most of our supplies. We did the dishes,swept up, and took out our garbage. Leave no trace principles inside.We loaded our boats carefully and took a last look around. As we were leaving Zane and I were overcome by laughter that hurt. Greg couldn’t get his boat started and it was so hilarious watching him! We laughed so hard we had to move away from him! He got his motor going eventually and made it out into deeper water but stalled out. Being a team player we headed over to help him.Not! Being who we are we approached him at full speed and turned suddenly hitting his boat with a huge wake! More laughter till our sides hurt! Greg got going and decided to retaliate in kind. It was on! Bush lake chicken fights! Our heavy boat was no match for Greg’s but he was a good sport and hit us with numerous wakes. It was the perfect way to end the trip! Full of life and making the most of every moment possible. We settled into the long ride back but encountered some heavy waves in the biggest section of the lake. It was cool and cloudy when we reached the beach and said goodbyes to the family. We loaded the truck and gave the girls a tip for helping us. As I stood there I said a silent blessing to the sky. May we return to this beautiful and special lake. May this family survive all obstacles and their business survive as well. May we be blessed to return together… I don’t think that I have ever left a bush camp without being changed in some manner. I would think of this place often and picture it as we left it. The drive out was long and uneventful. We stopped on a large bridge above a place Eric called a walleye spawning sanctuary. In the spring when the ice leaves the lakes their glowing eyes number in the thousands at night. That is the draw here. The walleye and the hunt for them each day. But something larger finds us there. I have told you what it meant to me. The bonds we made together can not be broken now. It happened. We made it real and fun. I grew as a father and as a friend. I experienced something familiar in a new location. Back in the valley someone will always ask: why waste all that money and go so far? We have walleye right here. I nod my head and say yes! You are right! Then walk away to hide my knowing smile!Not everyone charges their spirit battery the same way! MOONTABS aren’t for everyone.✍️

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