A big part of writing is research I find. Reading and gathering facts is important to truth and accuracy especially with historical subjects. I take great liberties with word usage most of the time when engaging in my writing projects. I apologize for improper sentence structure and blatant mistakes with pronunciation. “Mega-editing” has never been my goal here on the blog site.Telling stories in a “real-time” manner is however. I tell a story as if you were standing next to me. In my own words and in the emotion of the moment. What some refer to as “living in the now. It’s that rawness I often mention. There’s a connection to rawness in words and rawness in nature that surrounds my thought process I suppose. That place of truth and simple facts which brings me to today’s subject. Whims. Defined as a sudden idea or turn of the mind. Or even as a sudden desire that is unexplained. Anyone who has ever spent any time around me will attest to the word whim as being a description of my mindset at times. I enjoy playing with words and even creating some. MOONTABS was a creation of mine in 2018. By now you must surely understand my fascination with my own word. I tend to think of it as a word where everyone can find a piece of themselves. As for whims it means more than its definition. It’s also an abbreviation for “Winter Has Its Moments”. Those things and thoughts that only the season can deliver in this four season region of the world. I often associate it with fun recreational pursuits and hobbies. Cross country skiing,snowboarding, snowshoeing, and ice fishing. As for current WHIMs, we recently returned from volunteering on the Saranac Lake Winter Carnival Ice Palace project where we assisted in harvesting the ice blocks for the walls and sculptures. It’s hard work and rewarding at the same time. Zane and I also snowshoed our final two peaks of the Lake Placid 9 hiking challenge. The challenges of winter trekking make it a thrill of a different sort. Heavier layers of clothing and extra safety gear to carry than we would require in other seasons. The knowledge that staying out all night would only happen in an extreme emergency. Far different than a summer hike! There’s a certain “buzz” to be found on a winter trek though. One we chase at times. Staying inside on cold,stormy days can be relaxing and rejuvenating most certainly but only in small doses. So we choose to engage in a variety of winter activities to balance our lifestyle. There is a less glamorous aspect to winter however. Those WHIMs of challenge attached to the rural heritage of the farm property. In the interest of positivity I simply mention them as obstacles. Those things which slow a winter farm workday. In this direction of thought there are profound observations of my dependency on modern technology. Consider the following: upstate New York winter. Cold and snow are the normal here. As a result gaining access to the farm property becomes difficult as more snow continues to accumulate. I typically plow out the driveway and trail to the warehouse about once a week. This involves getting a cold diesel tractor started. Jumper cables, starting fluid, and plugging in an engine block heater often occupy the first couple hours of the workday. A fire is usually kindled in the farm cabin (or “warming shack” as Jennifer calls it!) for lunch break. Once the tractor is started there is hay to feed to the two horses after the trails are plowed. If we have decided to cut and split wood them we also need to break a trail to the wood landing. All this is pretty typical on any given farm outing during the winter. As we approach March we will need to break in the maple sugaring sap hauling roads depending on the snow depth. This can be very difficult at times especially when we get larger accumulations of snowfall. The bottom line is the amount of time needed to accomplish some simple tasks. There’s nothing negative in any of this really. It’s just that every task takes extra effort! Frozen locks and barn doors to shovel out. Slow hydraulics on tractors and wood splitters. Getting the picture? It is in these moments that I realize our dependence on modern machinery. At this point my reflections swing years into the past. Our ancestors who called this winter landscape home certainly faced many challenges. They lacked electricity and modern medicine. They had no gas vehicles with heaters. Traveling was cold and preparedness was key to survival. Heat came from burning wood not from fuel oil, natural gas, or propane. All that being said I like to think that they adapted more to winter than we as a modern society have chosen to do. In nature winter is a time of things becoming more dormant. Trees without leaves but with tiny buds slowly developing. Some animals hibernating while others slow their activities. For some it is the hungry time and they must expend energy hunting to survive. The beavers feed on brush sunk below the ice until spring. Talk about preparing! The pulse of life continues but seems to slow somewhat overall. Our ancestors adapted well to winter living. They broke out their horse drawn sleighs and cutters. Fed hay they had stored away for their livestock. They butchered their meat and used the winter temperatures to freeze it outside. They ventured into frozen swamps and over streams to harvest firewood that was usually off limits. These things I learned talking to my father and grandparents. For my family those things were commonplace and they spoke of them with a certain reverence. Rural people enjoyed certain comforts that we do not. They didn’t worry about airline cancellations or impassable roads. Delayed school buses and power outages. I won’t romanticize their lives as easy or perfect. Just very different that’s all. In comparing their lives to mine I find myself wondering about what may have been lost in all that was gained. And then the inevitable question: without our modern conveniences would we survive the upstate winter? And so begins the questioning of my preparedness or lack there of. All this as I sit in a warm house fueled by natural gas. Electricity and hot, running water. Tv, internet, and the technology to launch this post into cyberspace. Have I become soft and too modern? Is there a better balance to be struck? Should we follow the migratory birds south each fall? Perhaps it is our stubborn love of the four seasons that keeps us here. All these questions and more. Does winter have its moments? Absolutely. The sun is out and it’s warming up some today after our recent cold snap. I have a sudden whim! Travel to Macomb today with the dogs and snowshoe down the Beaver Creek gorge to the ice falls. Embrace this February day and connect to nature as the winter season advances forward. A story waits for me in frozen wetlands. Today is meant for simple pursuits in search of something more simple in its truth. The now is here and the past can be researched tomorrow. The future will show itself. Today is waiting with the thrills of adventure. The recharging of my spirit energy. Whims are good! ✍️
Tag Archives: Adventures
Manatees And Me
My decision to visit the Crystal River region in Florida was mainly based on my desire to visit my friends Norm and his wife Ellen who live on nearby Lake Rousseau. It wasn’t until I began to do some research on the area itself that I learned about the winter groups of manatee that seek refuge in the natural springs that flow out to the gulf. Manatees are in danger when water temperatures fall below 68 degrees in their natural habitats. In winter months they seek out the shallow spring fed inlets and shallow bays that make up the shorelines of the Crystal River coastline. Some of the canals are man made however and this sometimes places the manatees in danger of boat collisions. There were about 600 recorded manatee deaths in Florida in 2020. 90 of those deaths involved boats. Fortunately through better awareness and eco friendly practices the Florida manatee population has increased in the past few decades to approximately 6500. Their population once dipped below 1300 and they became part of the endangered species list. Federal regulations have helped restore their numbers but they continue to face new threats as pollution,climate change, and greater human development in their range increases. I knew very little about manatees until today. I had only ever encountered two on two different occasions while vacationing in Florida years ago. I did know that many were injured and killed by boats each year. It’s a topic sometimes mentioned in newspapers and on the news. All these facts may seem a little negative and somewhat depressing I suppose but they are very real. I feel such facts need to be noted for greater public awareness of the manatees situation. In a more positive direction I found these manatee facts interesting and noteworthy! The manatee has earned the nickname “sea cow” as a result of its grazing appearance underwater. Manatees are mammals and must breath at the surface every 3-5 minutes. They are capable of staying under for 20 minutes if necessary! They exchange 90% of the air in their uniquely shaped “hemi” lungs with each breath. (Humans exchange a mere 10%).Their average weight as adults approaches 1000 ponds. They can live for up to 65 years in captivity. They can produce only one calf every 13 months upon reaching maturity. These gentle giants of the gulf tolerate humans rather well given proper etiquette and respect. They are capable of speeds up to 19mph in short bursts! That surprised me honestly watching their slow gracefully executed swimming today! Another cool fact is that manatees are distant relatives of the elephant. A group of them is known as an aggregation. Usually 6 or so but sometimes many more when winter water temperatures force them to seek shelter together. Now that you know what I know about manatees I will get to today’s adventure. Crystal River is known as the manatee capital! I had arrived here just ahead of the annual celebration which begins this Saturday. The manatee were in the springs and the tour business was in full swing. I decided to book a kayak paddle adventure to view the manatee with a local rental shop. I also opted for a guided tour as I felt it would offer a better experience. I chose Hunter Springs Kayak for my adventure. A random choice but they are located walking distance from the launch which was a huge bonus. I arrived early and was informed that I was to be fitted for a wetsuit! I would have dieted weeks prior had I known I mused as I squeezed my slightly overweight body into the stretchy garment. Perhaps I would be less likely to spook a manatee given my somewhat plump appearance I decided after a short deliberation. I sucked in my gut and exited the changing room trying not to be too self conscious. I don’t look that bad I told myself. The suit rather flatters my arms and legs even if not so much through my mid section. I quickly dispelled my anxiety and got busy concentrating on the instructional manatee etiquette video. Our guide was a slender fellow named Matt who was a lifelong resident of the area. He typically captains a tour boat for the manatee swim experience but was to be our kayak guide today. He uses a paddle board instead of a canoe or kayak. Our group was small totaling only 5. A mother and daughter, a married couple of retirement age, and myself. We also had a trainee along to assist Matt. We were given masks and snorkels along with a pool noodle for floating. The sea kayaks we were assigned were flat and very stable. I launched mine with practiced ease and immediately felt comfortable with its maneuverability. One person had never kayaked before and struggled somewhat at first but gradually made some forward momentum. I wasn’t concerned with time or anything really. There was a gentle breeze and wonderful sunshine touching my face while sea birds flew in all directions around us. We headed up into a narrow canal and passed under a bridge. Every inch of shoreline is developed with houses, docks, and a huge marina dominating the landscape. Pretty typical for much of the Florida coast but not offensive or rundown in any capacity. There were several tour boats and private watercraft that passed our kayak procession as we began to near the first manatee sanctuary ahead of us. Rope barriers were strung across the mouths of the bays and spring inlets to give the manatee safe haven. We didn’t see any in the murky water however until we reached the mouth of a large barricaded bay. Beyond the ropes the backs of dozens of sun seeking manatees were visible. And suddenly we were in the thick of it! Manatees all around us! Surfacing for air and dipping under. Swimming below our kayaks. I lost count rather quickly and began trying to snap photos. Difficult at best as they surface and disappear rather quickly. There were several that were in a mating group that we were cautioned to avoid. They can easily tip a kayak when engaged in mating and unaware of little else. It was all happening fast with more boats and people began arriving. Matt suggested that we continue up to the next area to another spring. I paddled out in front along the shore and occasionally would see a manatee as it passed under me. We reached a location where we would tie up and get into the water. Now the real adventure truly began! I had never snorkeled before but with the pool noodle under me I found it easy and very relaxing! Schools of fish began to appear below me as I searched for a manatee. We had been taught to move slowly with minimal movement so we would not disturb the manatee. I got a glimpse of one beyond a rope barrier but the water was rather murky from all the activity. Matt told me that many times the water is crystal clear but there was just too much agitation for that to happen. I reached a section next to shore and was rewarded to have two manatee swim right past me! What a thrill! I headed back towards the kayaks and suddenly was next to a mammoth one! It was feeding along the bottom with a nonchalant attitude. More boats and people began to arrive so we headed back downstream eventually. The wind had picked up and I was actually cold despite my wetsuit. We passed several more manatee headed upstream and even watched two feeding on sea grass that was floating on the surface. People seemed to have a respectful attitude today but the shear numbers of us made me wonder if perhaps additional barriers should be implemented at some point to create more undisturbed sanctuaries for the manatee. As we paddled back I reflected on the adventure itself. I rated the experience as extraordinary and would highly recommend it to others of all ages. These gentle creatures deserve our respect and our stewardship! I hope to return sometime and visit them again!✍️
What I Never Knew
History is an important part of adventure for us! There’s nothing like stumbling upon old foundations, buildings, and other human impacts that nature is slowly healing and covering with vegetation. Some areas however have been changed forever by large and costly human endeavors. At a glance these locations might never catch my attention at first glance. But everything changes when I suddenly find myself in one of those locations and realize something much larger once occurred there. I can and will explain but first I must lay some groundwork. It’s January 11th 2022 and I have flown to Florida to visit a friend. I escaped northern New York just ahead of a bitter cold front that has temperatures well below zero. I have settled into a fully functional Airbnb in the Dunnellon area and have a rental car at my disposal. I arrived here late Sunday and spent the day yesterday catching up with my good friend Norm. He once was a neighbor of mine at Black Lake where he and his wife Ellen owned a summer cottage below my former home we called Hill House. We became friends and we fished together occasionally out on the lake in his pontoon boat. He also loved to hunt so I introduced him to our farm property where he could roam at his discretion anytime he wished. He became hopelessly addicted to our farm crafted maple syrup at some point! He once asked me what I put into the stuff! My answer was simple and honest: energy and love of tradition. To craft the finest tasting maple syrup and be proud when people noticed! Norm became a steady customer and would always stockpile his supply of maple syrup before heading south each autumn. Time passed. Years that sped by with season and task. Norm and Ellen decided it was time to sell their lake property and would only be visiting upstate New York on occasion. We talked on the phone and I continued to get his syrup to him through a courier type system when necessary or through the mail. I missed my friend and our time together. Norm is 24 years older than me and I had confided in him when we fished together as the sun would set on a tough day for me. I trusted his advice and wise consul. I believe I thought of him as someone who was much like my father. Older and someone to be trusted for advice. I never told him that though. I think I will before I return home. Some things shouldn’t wait I have learned. At the time however it wasn’t necessary in the givens of common bonds. Some history to note. Norm and Ellen had been and were travelers. Wanderers.Full time Rver’s for over a decade. Adventure lovers and nature enthusiasts.In their stories I could feel a kindred spirit.Wow! I fear that I begin to stray far from the original story! Suffice it to say that Norm and Ellen invited us to come to Florida to visit them at their place on Lake Rousseau. Circumstances kept us away until I finally decided enough was enough in 2021. I won’t go into lengthy details of how those plans changed or how it finally occurred. I am here now and writing in the moment. Yesterday after Norm and I had some breakfast together we headed out onto Lake Rousseau for some fishing. I was immediately interested and intrigued by the lake itself. Channel markers everywhere amid dead tree stubs that rose above the water with a stately perseverance. Below the surface algae covered stumps were abundant and needed to be avoided. My curiosity perked and I began to grill Norm with questions. What had happened here and why? What was this lake all about? Man made reservoirs are nothing new to me most certainly. But this one in this location begged further investigation. And just like that history unfolded and opened up the doors for a much larger story! A place of history that I had never knew existed. Enter the story of the cross Florida barge canal. Lake Rousseau had been created in the early 1900s to create power for industrial purposes. The Great Depression would create a larger vision that actually was put into motion. The cross Florida barge canal was begun and never completed. It was a potential environmental disaster that was averted if the facts are correct. It’s a piece of history that I would have never known if not for my friend. I have visited Florida many times over the years. I came for sun and warmth. A break from the north country at times. I know the traffic packed highways await me as I become a part of the problem each time I visit.History was never a motive for visiting but now it will draw me back again. Norm and I discussed the need to keep the mind active and alive today.Those things we do to aid in that capacity. History is the perfect place to keep the mind in motion. What can I learn tomorrow? What did I learn today? I learned that we as humans often don’t truly make the best decisions. But the habitat of Lake Rousseau has become a place of refuge. For birds and other wildlife. It controls flooding and more. It is a marvel of human engineering and worthy of praise. It could have played out much differently but it didn’t.One thing is most certain. It is of a very human and personal nature. Don’t wait to visit a friend. Tomorrow is uncertain. Today was secured and now a memory to cherish forever. MOONTABS! They’re as simple as it gets! Wherever you find yourself!When you enter the realm of history and reality it can offer a new place of spirit energy. We can’t live in the past but must acknowledge it sometimes. It has shaped the world around us. It as shaped us.✍️
Thoughts For The New Year
2022 is upon us already! Seems like the past couple months have been a blur quite honestly. Work,the holiday season, parties, gatherings, etc. My work adventure in Lake Placid has entered a new reality of part time work as December fades behind us. It’s time to catch up on those things back in the valley that took the back stage for much longer than I intended. A new MOONTABS strategy is brewing . It must be implemented in 2022 I have decided. There needs to be a greater blog presence that encompasses the daily rhythms and hiccups of my life. I feel there may be a larger connection to positivity that remains hidden at times. It could emerge from the shadows of negative realities that so many people face including my own. It’s going to take some heavy thinking to take that chance and a greater balancing effort of time on my part. I think the message that I am attempting to send is that of recognizing the positive energy that can exist in the smallest details of daily routine. In those things that occupy much of our time. The importance of those moments can be lost when we fail to acknowledge them. My plans for 2022 and all of time beyond will manifest themselves from simple routines and activities. The word ordinary is in the word extraordinary. That magic that happens during a “run of the mill” day. Watch for the story titled “The Run Of The Mill”.
Today I once again postpone the larger story as it must be told properly and with many words. Today’s schedule is booked and waiting for me hit the timelines of appointments and details. A new adventure is but days away now and another immediately behind that as January enters its third week. Our calendar for 2022 began to take shape well in advance. That’s something that Jennifer and I share in common. Planning. We have learned that flexibility will play a huge role in all we schedule. The positivity lives in the desire to stay in motion and chase adventure. We can’t predict tomorrow but we certainly can prepare for it. If all this seems a bit confusing that’s because that’s my intention. To remind everyone to expect the unexpected and face it with a tenacious attitude. Make plans to escape the run of the mill when opportunities present themselves.Schedule your vacation time and don’t look back!Sorry no stories today. Just an update and a brief check in. Creativity is rarely far away but often takes a backseat to daily details. It’s going to take some time on my end to get this right. Btw! Don’t forget to watch for my words and photos on the Facebook group Just Go Outside. You will find short segments of my life there when I am silent here. It’s a fun group! Let’s all make 2022 count! With hopes and dreams filled with promise! Forward momentum. I call it “MOONTABS In Motion”. That’s a larger story that bids its time.✍️
The Game of Unfinished Words
It’s a cool afternoon here on the shores of Black Lake, New York.43 degrees and falling slowly. I have just finished settling into Camp Edith for what appears to be a period of the next week or so. It’s going to a little rustic however as the camp has been winterized so there’s no running water. Well that depends. Me running to the lake to carry buckets of water up the hill is a form of running water. It’s nothing new really. For many years there was no running water in the cottage. We hand pumped water from a dug well down by the old horse barn next to Sand Bay. As a young boy it was my responsibility to keep the camp water bucket full each day. It was the late sixties and we actually used the water for drinking too. My Grandmother Edith and Grandfather Wayne had built the cottage in 1927. They actually lived in it after their farm house burned one winter. It was a mere 480 square feet with a screen porch on the front. It’s difficult to imagine them crammed into that tiny space with several children! A large potbelly wood stove provided their heat source. The outhouse they built was still in service until 1995 when I decided to upgrade the cottage by adding an additional bedroom, full bathroom, loft, and utility room. We pumped lake water directly from the shoreline and ran it through a basic water filter system. We brought in our drinking water from home. The old dug well had gotten rather toxic I felt so it was filled in one summer. The cottage entered a new realm of existence with the addition of a septic system, hot water heater, and all the amenities running water provides. I began to refer to it as a “summer home”. Indeed it was really! It had electricity, refrigerator, and many other small creature comforts. Fast forward several decades and little has changed. Some minor renovations to improve upon living space, a few new windows, and a larger front porch would transform the cottage further. I began to use it less however as years passed and I found myself drawn into the exploration of new locations. During the summer of 2018 though Zane and I lived here for much of the summer in between our Adirondack hiking trips. It’s sat rather idle since then however. It wasn’t until the pending March sale of Hill House in 2021 that we seriously began to visit Camp Edith again. I moved in officially on March 26th. The ice went that evening just before dark. I spent the night hunkered down in front of the pellet stove that had replaced the old potbelly stove of years past. The pellet stove was no match for the temperatures of late March and April. The cottage is very open to the rafters and mostly uninsulated with the exception of the 1995 addition. It was a rather challenging time for Zane and I for a few weeks! Fetching water from the frigid lake for flushing the toilet and doing dishes. We showered next door in my sister’s basement bathroom so that helped aid in our survival. We used a couple electric heaters to assist with heating the cottage for a time. I decided to move in a beast of a wood stove we had in storage at the farm. It was easy to load once we managed to ramp it down a crude structure we built to reach the warehouse loft. We then used the tractor’s loader to place it in the bed of the truck. Getting it through the cottage door proved difficult and somewhat dangerous actually. There was a mere quarter inch of extra clearance passing through the door. Zane and I managed to get it stuck on our unloading ramps at one point. Tipped sideways it was lodged in the door frame until we figured out a strategy. Basic physics to the rescue! Levers and fulcrums. Ramps and pry bars. Brute strength and the necessity to get the job done or have no heat that evening. We had taken the pellet stove out that morning to make room for the huge wood stove. We finally settled the beastly wood stove onto its resting spot after finally freeing it from the door frame! I think Zane learned a lot during the entire process. If nothing else then what it takes to accomplish something with inadequate manpower. We connected the stove pipes and just like that we had our supercharged heat source! One that defies the need for insulation with pure mega btu’s of wood burning capacity. It’s ironic that warmer spring temperatures arrived shortly after and the wood stove was rarely used most of the time thereafter. Fast forward to November. It’s been a whirlwind of migratory living. Camping in the Adirondacks in our gently used Airstream. Staying at Jennifer’s some. More camping in the Adirondacks in the weeks since returning to work August 9th. The recent Airbnb rentals of the past 4 weeks. Sometimes spending the night in the cottage but mostly away usually. I recently drained the waterlines as we do every fall. The huge wood stove would quickly heat the cottage on the nights we chose to stay over. We stocked the porch with a small amount of firewood for those times that we would need it. We find that no running water is no great hardship expect for there being no shower to enjoy. It seemed that the cottage would be mostly uninhabited for a time. Until today. Things have changed suddenly and with no warning. I will not be returning to work until the end of the month. The reasons for this will remain unwritten with full words. There are certain key words that I don’t use on my blog site ever. Or topics of sharing. This page shares my experience with connections to nature. Emotion and reaction. Survival and existence. Learning and personal growth. Positivity and the power derived from it. Thus the title of this post. The game of unfinished words begins. It is a puzzle board type of field. One where I give you a letter and a short description. You identify the word that I leave unfinished. Clue number one involves the timeline of recent events that have become rather commonplace yet often distant from our daily lives. The most important clue is the year 2020. The first unfinished word begins with “C”. The second word begins with “P”. Words such as fear and uncertainty could possibly assist in your choices. Enter a second “P” word to the game. It involves choices made by citizens. Also a word banned from my page. It is ever in the public focus. A new word to ponder begins with the letter “V”. Something I chose to receive while others refuse. Maybe you don’t find this game fun or entertaining. Let me speed things up and bring you into my present reality. The next series of letters that form words are connected in a sequential timeline. They begin in this lineup. First “E”. Next “T”.Next “Q”. One follows the other directly. As for what falls in between it is not a game. It is about the power of nature or power that humans have constructed from natural forces. I am newly educated to that which once was distant and unknown to me. What connection does this strange game of words have to nature? Survival and adaptation. What I have I will try to utilize. What I lack I will try to go without. Key words that I do allow on my page:Rural heritage. History. Adventure. Remember our ancestors. They survived similar circumstances with much less than we find necessary. I find comfort in the simple ways of my ancestors. With a few simple things I can provide myself with so very much. With wood and the wood stove I have heat. I can make hot water with water that I carry from the lake on the stove. I can cook on that same stove if necessary. I must simply do the work. This manner of living takes time. This I have in plenty suddenly. I embrace the challenge and find positivity there. I have no desire to become soft and helpless. In challenge there is a deeper understanding of nature and life itself perhaps. In that which brought me here I must reflect further on a much deeper level. I end the game with a final letter and its word. It will answer your questions. The letter is “I”. The word is isolation. Camp Edith is a fine setting for that! But there are even finer places if necessary. Places where challenge was a practiced pursuit of happiness by an imaginative boy of hills and books.
November Speaks (Where October Left Off)
Time has flown and my writing has taken the backseat recently. Actually it’s totally missed the car ride. Life hasn’t stopped most certainly even if my creativity sometimes remains furtive. I have managed a small amount of sharing on my Facebook groups even if I don’t find my way here. It’s not that my days have lacked adventure or travel. The Adirondacks have been like home to me these past few months as my 14 week work tour continued last week. We spent some quality time camping prior to my work assignment. Gone are the weeks of camping out of the Airstream that I enjoyed until almost the end of October. My last week of boondock camping at Fish Creek State Campground just before they closed proved to be quite the adventure! No hookups there.Rainy weather and cool nights would tax my batteries despite the addition of a portable Zamp solar charger system. I ran the furnace after returning from work while the generator was running before crawling under my thick stack of blankets each evening. The campground had made the decision to close the shower house early this season. No problem I decided. I had my fresh water tank full, a propane water heater, and a nice shower of my own in the Airstreams! Perfect right? Yes at first! Then my circuit board failed on the water heater and the hot water ceased. I troubleshot it in the dark with a flashlight to no avail. Too bad they didn’t still use the old style propane hot water heaters with a basic pilot light that you could hand light easily. No board means no hot water. But being stubborn (not to mention in need of a shower ) I did what any lover of a clean body would have done. I began heating pans of hot water on my propane stove. I had plenty of propane and plenty of water. I had considered for a nanosecond bathing in the lake itself! But after a day spent working outdoors in the cold rain that was not really a pleasant option.The next trick would involve bringing a dishpan into the shower itself. I filled it with a mix of hot and cold water to begin the shower experience. I won’t go into great detail of the entire process but let’s simply say it was mission accomplished if not mission supreme! I followed this procedure for a couple days then bide the camping season farewell. The Airstream has sat vacant for several weeks now at Jennifer’s.As for its departure south that is a rather obscure subject for the moment. Some plans had to altered while others were still being developed. Things can be quickly set in motion when your home is on wheels. It’s winterized at the moment. The nighttime temperatures continue to plummet and we decided it the safest course of action. The past few weeks have found me living in rentals in Saranac Lake. One has become my favorite after I discovered it last October. The owners have taken the time to make the space a cozy, warm retreat. They are friendly and welcoming as hosts! I consider myself fortunate to have found them. The Olympic Center Revitalization Project inches forward with substantial progress having been made since August. My time working there almost finished as the critical manpower shortage winds down into its final days. It’s been a blur of work, travel to the valley for weekends, and back up for the next week. I have watched the transition of autumn from the moment it began in the Adirondacks. The St. Lawrence valley autumn has lagged slightly behind and it’s been fun observing the differences. I had one memorable hike about mid -October when I decided to take on Cascade Mountain after work one evening. I hit the trailhead at 6:16 pm chasing the sunset after a beautiful warm day on the project. Darkness would overtake me before I could summit however. The views were still remarkable and I stood there gazing off to the horizons of flickering lights in the distance. It took me much longer to descend the mountain than I intended. Lucky for me Jennifer called and chatted me down! I reached the car close to 8:45 pm. What a hike! Hiking adventures have been replaced by farm tasks recently. A wood order that needs to be filled. Hay to store away for our two remaining horses. Many different tasks present themselves as winter approaches. It’s best not to get caught short I have learned even if I struggle to get it together! We cruise the farm woods searching for firewood and sugar wood trees sometimes. There is still an over abundance of dead maple to be found although some of it has begun to move past its prime. Time is bringing change to our devastated forest as the upper canopies continue to fall. We have made some inroads of harvest into some sections while others remain untouched. It’s been a rather disturbing cycle to witness since 2017. The dual deadly tap of tent caterpillars and drought of 2016. The subsequent die off has been far reaching across the high ridges of the farm. We hope to begin some forest cleanup attempts in the time before us. Time flies and progress comes slowly at times but nature throws us some pretty stiff challenges from time to time. Ice storms.Insects. Invasive species. The future of the farm landscape remains unclear and hazy. We have a basic plan and hope to further our stewardship efforts moving forward. So that’s about it really. Work and commutes. Packing bags and moving around each week. Travel back and forth. Balancing time with Zane and Jennifer on the weekends when home. The shortening daylight throws a twist into everything. As much a part of autumn as the falling leaves themselves. All this I chose I must admit when I question my trajectory some days. This is a temporary path I hike. The objectives begin to be completed. Time can’t run backwards nor can the courses of action that decisions created. It’s strange the energy that drives those decisions. And the energy that steers the feet back to the farm property in the valley. For some tasks can’t be postponed indefinitely. Winter changes everything. A sugar season must be prepared for with no further delay.New goals take the stage and there’s still time to fulfill them. That becomes the new focus. November speaks and I listen closely. It’s a familiar song. The northern breeze in the trees of the farm property. A time to enjoy a simple lunch next to the farm cabin wood stove. A time to enjoy a few minutes of silence. A time to reflect and a time to reconnect. There is a calming peace in the simple accomplishments of farm tasks preparing for winter. It’s an adventure of a different sort. A destination where you travel back to simple roots. A familiar feeling in an old place. It’s a new autumn in a year well underway now. Many things have changed and many things have not. It’s a powerful place to stand and count small blessings. Spirit energy is ever present on the rocky turf of these Macomb hills.
More Days Like These.
Week 5. Day 1. Once again at the lay down area waiting for work. I enter the final days of camping in the Airstream at Rollins Pond State Campground. It’s become a bit of a ghost town now. The empty campsites out number those that are occupied. I think about writing a post about this exodus of Happy Campers but can’t seem to get past the title! It was a busy long weekend of soccer games,endless driving, and a tough day of hiking Sunday. We had wished to complete our Saranac 6 challenge but decided to wait until we had enough time to devote to it. Sunday’s weather was iffy but we decided to give it our all. We had the usual camp life details to attend to first Sunday morning before we could leave however. Running the generator to charge the AS batteries, breakfast, showers, etc. Pretty typical for boondocking at RP. We hit the trailhead for our hike around 11:30 am . A bit later than I wished but well within the timeframe for an exit before dark. The arrival of September brings a noticeable shortened amount of daylight. Much different than the days just before and after summer solstice. We had a modest safety pack stocked for trip with water, water filters,snacks, extra clothing, lighters, and a flashlight. Not a full on safety pack but adequate I felt given our destination. The hike itself was a bundle type loop trek. We would first hike to Haystack Mountain then pick up Mackenzie Mountain before hiking the remaining miles of the loop back to the car. Sounds easy right? The mileage was estimated to be at least 10.6 miles total.We left the trailhead with a very energetic Gracie dog pulling hard on her leash. The trail starts out rather typical for an ADK hike. A mix of up and downs. Curves and cobbles to hop across the damper sections. Crews had done some really awesome trail hardening in several spots. They had even filled in some sections with gravel that they must have extracted from a stream bed somewhere close by. It wasn’t too long before we encountered small groups of returning hikers. Some were actually running the trail and none were inclined to initiate conversation so we never really knew just how far they had traveled. We hiked briskly with the fresh energy of new day of hiking Oh wait! I have postponed the writing.It’s now Week 6.Day 1. More miles. More work. A Thursday night move from Rollins Pond Campground after work that left me totally drained. I arrived here at Little Wolf Campground in Tupper Lake after dark for my first ever nighttime “back in”with the Airstream. Lucky for me the park manager Arnie helped me accomplish that tricky maneuver! We stood on the beach behind my campsite and chatted for a few minutes enjoying the moon over the pond. It took me another 2 hours to complete my unpacking and set up. Friday morning came early and the 10 hours of Week 5,Day 4 polished me off physically. I am not being negative in any definition of the word for the record. This experiment of “real time” day to day existence is very honest. It’s a time thing. I am hoping to connect with you there.That place where we struggle to pull it all together.It’s been that way for me for years. No wonder I am obsessed with the passage of time! And here we are, far from the story of the hike.Let’s get back to it.The trail was pretty typical of an ADK hike for the most part. You know.Rocks, wet spots, twists and turns.Totally good quite honestly. But it got much better suddenly. We walked up on a concrete pier totally out of place along the trail. I had suspected that that we were on a old road for some time. Common sense prevailed when it was so apparent that this trail was man made. Carved from the hillside.Healed as only nature could accomplish. A short distance later we found the remains of an old building foundation. It had plumbing at some point as there were old cast drain pipes in one section. It was difficult to picture exactly what structure had occupied the spot or what it had been used for exactly. I will need to research historical archives to find out that information if it even exists. If only a person could talk to the builders! We took several pictures and continued up the trail to a junction point. We assumed the left fork would lead us to Haystack Mountain. Common sense given my glance at a map that morning.After a short distance we were rewarded with some additional history! A small dam of concrete blocked a tiny creek in a fairly steep location. It had been cleverly constructed to hold a small but adequate reservoir. There were pipes that we couldn’t follow underground leaving a screened box. It suddenly occurred to us that this may have been the water source for the structural remains downstream. Why else would it have been constructed? Zane and exchanged a few thoughts about our discovery. But we hadn’t come to unearth history. We had come to conquer a couple small mountains. The trail took on a sudden ascent after the dam and some brisk hiking gained us some respectable elevation gain. After a couple small rock scrambles we emerged onto the summit of Haystack. The views were good despite the cloudy,overcast skies. There were quite a few other hikers already there ahead of us. We chatted with a few of them for a moment. Some were stand offish and unfriendly. Not uncommon on smaller peaks.Rare on higher peaks. We had a quick snack that we shared with Gracie. She was with us once again for a mountain hike. Nothing new for her the well traveled high peaks dog! We left by the back trail off Haystack.The drop is very manageable and quite easy. We hit the intersection with the Jack Rabbit Trail after a short hike. It had gotten quite dark but we knew we were well within our daylight safety margin. We came to the intersection of the Mackenzie trailhead and headed up it with a steady pace. It was very cobbled early on with lots of rock hops. It suddenly rose abruptly and became fairly aggressive in incline. We hard charged the grade with an energy of determination rather than actual juice. We passed a young couple who stood aside as we pushed forward. Well equipped with high end gear we never saw them again. We think they turned back on the steep ascent. It was quite a workout given some of the rock scrambles. We overtook a second couple and they let us pass. We took to chat at a scenic overtook where they informed us we were only at the halfway point! Not exactly what we wished to hear! I checked my All Trails App and confirmed their information. Yuck! They were right! The trail leveled out somewhat after a fashion and we hit another overtook. The summit? No! Mackenzie still loomed off in the distance. I suddenly felt that feeling of … Oh Wow! It’s going to be a tough pull still! The false summit fell behind. We descended towards a col with some tough scrambles over wet rock. Eventually we began the final ascent to Mackenzie. We hit a scenic overtook just shy of the summit. The views lifted me to that place I chase! We hung for a time and snapped a few pictures. It was very cloudy and had gotten chilly. I bundled up and had a quick snack again. We met up with the couple from the overlook. Dennis and Rachael if my memory is correct! We left the beautiful place with an urgency of approaching night and waning energy on my part. The descent seemed long and difficult but we made it safely. Then the trail to the parking lot. Endless as my energy continued to depart with the daylight. We finally hit the parking lot with Zane well in front with me hobbling behind. I had a sudden thought. What exactly is the rating of this hike and what’s the actual mileage? Easy? Hmmm.Not for me. But done and we were Saranac 6ers! Later I learned that All Trails rates this hike difficult at 11.9 miles.Zane was tired but in better shape than me after the hike. Youthful energy is hard to beat! If you tackle this duo be prepared! Give yourself plenty of time! Mackenzie is around 3820 feet. It’s close to a 46er elevation. Great for us as we work towards tackling the Northeast 111. This duo is a great proving ground of history and endurance! Check them out!
Day 4
Times Like These
Week 4.Day 3.It’s how I refer to my time here these days. I really need to cut to the chase this morning. Work in a few minutes and another busy day ahead. The totally lost words of the August 16th post titled The Return has been frustrating to say the least! I started piecing it back together but have decided to table it for now. It was a two part story anyway. If you’ve read some of my introductions then you are familiar with my attempts to write raw and honestly as I put it. Driving in this morning I realized something. It hit me with a sudden clarity. What triggered it actually was the rising daylight coming through the trees as I sped along the mostly empty highway headed towards Lake Placid. I snatch views as possible ever vigilant for the deer who love to feed on the roadside grass.They ultimately place themselves in my path. But I am trying to respect that the Adirondacks are their home and slowing down is the best way to coexist. So the trees! Solid and silent. Their branches and needles so finely detailed it was breathtakingly beautiful! There never seems to be a good place to park the car for a photo in these moments along the narrow highways of the Adirondacks. What’s this got with words on a blog post? Triggering. The title of this post was triggered. It’s a borrow on a Foo Fighters song I recently heard on satellite radio. It fits the mood and tone of my daily routine these days. There’s no internet service at my campsite so I do very little writing at night. 10 hours a day on the job site and the 1 hour plus daily commute leaves me somewhat drained I suppose. I truly do enjoy my work outdoors on the Olympic Center skating oval. It’s as raw and honest as my words. I show up clean and leave dirty. Wet sometimes after a day in the rain. After spending much of my career inside of buildings I relish the big skies overhead with the high peaks in the background. They shore me up with positivity. Always there if I needed to escape for some mountain therapy as a friend of mine calls it. There’s a lot going on in my life right now. It was my choice to be here in the first place. I came for a new experience. A story. Dollars and cents. Benefits of all sorts. It plays out like a movie script. Life is never perfect nor without challenge. How you embrace the challenge defines you I like to think. I strive to be a solid presence here. Much like the trees along the highway. I have been busy getting people’s stories. At the campsites and on the job. Many thanks to everyone who takes time to chat with me! You are all part of the MOONTABS In Motion project! I’d like to acknowledge several people from the last few weeks! Ron and Nancy.Jason and Darlene. David and Kelly. Mike and Sammi.Just to name a few. We find common ground in nature,camping,and in life. That’s the heartbeat of this project! Don’t get lost in “Taz-mania”!This story is far from over!
The Return
One of my favorite locations in the Adirondacks would have to be Bog River. It’s a location rich in history and a rather frequent subject of my writing. After paddling and camping there since 1998 I’d have to say it has a rich history for me as well. My administrator Gerry Washburn took a Facebook post of mine and used it for my first blog post. Simply titled Bog River Flow it told a small story. One Jennifer would enter some twenty years later when I took her there for a paddle in the fall of 2018. We return there a couple times a year since and have made some fabulous MOONTABS together! Last fall’s beaver interaction will be a memory that I shall cherish forever! There’s a certain energy that can be found there on an autumn day. A myriad of colors and scents as the daylight shortens each day. The beaver set a pace of urgency that a writer could lose him or herself in easily when entering their habitat. The beaver of Bog River Flow represent a constant. In harmony with the location itself. Perhaps that is the message I seek to bring to the reader. The lands and waterways of the Bog River Flow have changed little since my first foray there in August of 1998.What first brought me to this special place? Fish. The lure of big largemouth bass. Coworkers told me of camping there and catching fish. I was an avid angler in 1998 and drawn to the waters of the Adirondacks which were mostly unknown to me at that time. If you follow my posts you already know of my love of camping. The unknown expanses begged exploration. Summer was waning and Labor Day weekend was close when I decided to go for the very first time. It’s a story unto itself as I often write. Ones I promise to tell but sometimes fail to get together. But life moves forward quickly and other adventures take precedence. My stories are firmly secure in my memory and in the deeds of the past. They are much like an old jean jacket that I once owned. Faded but still very much something I treasured. Once again I take you the reader far from my path of intended subject! Perhaps I seek to paint the backdrop of a large and colorful canvas. One spanning decades now and a recent return to that treasured place of constant. This is a short story of this summer and three days of camping with good friends. It all started with a group message from my best bud Lawrence’s son Ryan. Ryan had some history of his own at Bog River Flow after camping with his Dad and us years ago. A mutual friend Greg had also joined us there several times. Ryan desired a reunion camping trip of sorts if we could organize one and get everyone together. Dates were chosen and penciled in on calendars. Easy for me the retiree and my student summer vacation son Zane. More challenging but doable for my working friends with a little careful planning on their end. As is often the fashion with a group of guys, the dates were chosen and little discussion followed for some time. As the dates closed in the details were finalized with a casual exchange of texts. This was nothing new to us. Greg,Lawrence, and I had a history of camping together. One that spanned more years than I cared to remember actually. We were the seasoned veterans of Adirondack camping trips. The bushmen of remote Canadian lakes. Our gear no doubt still carrying traces of those dusty logging roads that had taken us far from our normal routines. We had planned and organized. Cursed those things we forgot and thanked our buddies who had packed extra. We were more than friends having shared so very much over the years.We were coworkers at times. Tied to each other with family events and sorrow. We knew each other so very well and had the trust of years of friendship. We were the Band of Brothers. Our sons had joined in and enjoyed the so called “man trips”. All manners of shelter and conveniences or lack there of as was often the case. It was of little consequence for us thinking back. We adapted to the circumstances with a group energy of cooperation.We worked together as a collective drawing on each other’s particular talents and skills. We rarely argued despite our occasional differences of opinion. It was teamwork and mutual respect. That place of finding niches and occupying them with the attitude of benefiting the group objectives. We made MOONTABS that are secure in their timeline for ever more. This was our history. There was no need to overthink the packing and planning. We could assign simple lists and know that everyone would do their job. Solid foundations make for sturdy structures. Little more need be said of our planning. The weather for the day of our departure proved favorable which was a big surprise as this summer has been less than dry. We picked a time to meet at the lower dam access point and hoped parking would be available. It’s a bit crowded at times and tough to get a vehicle off the narrow gravel road that leads to a small parking lot. Zane and I were a little behind schedule that Monday morning and arrived to find the others already there unloading their camping gear. We exchanged some quick greetings and began to unload in earnest. There were some other paddlers filling up the small section of beach just above the dam where we would launch once it was open. We staged our gear just above them and as our piles grew so did my anxiety. Six guys,a dog,and all that gear needed to fit into two canoes for the most part. The two small kayaks would carry some of it but it seemed like a Herculean task next to the pile of gear!As the other paddlers began to depart, Zane and I placed our canoe on the beach’s edge near our stash of gear. We loaded our gear easily into our sixteen foot Old Town that is actually called the “Camper” model.We assisted the rest of group after and even added some of their gear into our canoe.Lawrence has a large seventeen foot aluminum canoe that is capable of holding a lot of gear fortunately. But the problems multiplied quickly when it became apparent that much of their gear was packed into plastic totes of various sizes. We had some of our gear in totes as well but much less of it.The rounded,narrow sides of canoes don’t favor large,bulky rectangular objects. Loose,flexible packages fit in well around the totes and coolers. Lawrence’s canoe soon began to resemble an ocean bound cargo container ship as the plastic totes began to pile up.A revolving debate ensued as several different packing attempts took on the appearance of a geometric table top game. Zane and I continued to add gear onto our already well loaded canoe after cautious deliberation. Eventually I was forced to refuse any further infusion of awkwardly shaped camping gear and suggested to Zane a test paddle in shallow water. Once the dog had settled we found ourselves a little off balance but seaworthy to a degree. Our destination was over a mile away and balance would be key!Ryan and his cousin Matthew easily floated in their lightweight kayaks. It all was coming down to that critical moment when Greg and Lawrence would attempt their launch. Zane and I sat a short distance away watching it all play out.The final countdown! Mission control we have a launch! They are floating and in motion! No wait! Abort mission! They have turned back! We paddled back to find them unloading the canoe once again. Only one viable decision remained after that. A second trip would be necessary. So gear was stacked on shore and our small flotilla headed upstream finally. Shortly after leaving the small reservoir by the dam behind the river chokes down into a narrow channel with the forest rising high above on both sides. It’s somewhat dark and cool there even on a sunny morning. The scents hit you with a sudden clarity. The rich evergreen smells of balsam and pine mixed with the slightly organic scent of water as your paddle slices through it. I always take a moment to let it all sink in at this point. The trip is solidly underway and adventure waits for us upstream on the pond known as Hitchin’s. We hoped to find an open campsite there that could accommodate our group. We passed the earlier group of paddlers who had stopped to consult their map. We moved along quite quickly given our well laden watercraft sitting low in the water. I took Zane through a couple lily pad covered shortcuts to save a little paddling and we kept pace with the group easily. The river widened into a wide swampy series of small ponds in a couple spots before we reached the old railroad trestle. I don’t know the history of the railroad but it’s being made into a trail system now. It’s ties and tracks removed recently.It’s never been used in the years I’ve paddled there. I’ve always thought of it as the halfway point of the paddle but will bear no responsibility to accuracy of that statement. Some time later I began to feel the constant paddling begin to tire my arms some and called on Zane to “bend into it!”. I’ve used a kayak paddle to paddle a canoe for many years now. It’s a great workout and I find it very effective. As we passed the final corner just before the pond itself I looked for the high ledges that sit off to the west. Also a constant of the flow. They always invoke a certain feeling in me that I can’t truly explain. I always look back at them on the return trip as well. A time and earthly constant connection perhaps that defies words but touches a spirit nerve. It’s one of those “if only” moments.If only I could pass that feeling into you. The rise of rock beyond the forest where sky and clouds meet with picturesque perfection. We float and paddle far below under those open skies.It’s a point where I truly enter the adventure. We have entered a realm of natural beauty and now seek out our short term home. The entire area is beautiful but the pond setting pulls everything together. We gazed up the pond hoping to find our favorite site vacant and sent Ryan ahead to scout it out for us. A second closer site was available if necessary but we deemed it too small for the group if we wished to have plenty of space.It wasn’t too long before we heard Ryan’s shout of conquest! He had secured the site.The group soon reached the gravel beach just below the site. It’s actually part of an old road that served some purpose during the years of the Low’s Dynasty. There are a couple beaver ponds that lie just behind the old road. The culvert under the road plugged and deserted years ago. I read that one of the ponds was actually a bass pond that was constructed as part of the Low’s compound for the guests of the fishing lodge. Apparently it breached and the bass were released into Hitchin’s Pond. Ultimately to decimate the trout population. Our campsite sat further up the old road in a clearing that offers a spectacular view of the pond. Well trodden and used often by campers firewood is extremely scarce in the forest there. The previous campers had left some ridiculously large logs that they had attempted to burn unsuccessfully. Of no concern to me as I had already spotted some much better and readily available wood nearby. A previous camper had constructed a crude table next to a tree. It was rather cleverly constructed using some imported plywood and beaver sticks. Apparently they had planned for some sort of construction.
The Subtle Art Of Camp Life
July presses forward with somewhat unseasonal weather here in the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York. The rains have dominated the forecast and pound the area with incessant,unrelenting frequency. Our soggy debut camping trip of six days at the end of June left us more experienced with boondocking in the Airstream but found us regrouping with a more weather focused preparation. We purchased additional tarps and light tethering ropes. We retired the screen house in favor of a larger steel framed garage sale tent. We only had six days before leaving our staging area in Jennifer’s yard and heading back up to the Adirondacks for our next trip. The forecast was anything but promising but we decided that canceling was not an option. Jennifer had toiled hard to secure the dates through a cancellation website. Giving up wasn’t an option for us at any rate. We headed out on a sunny Saturday afternoon. The truck fully loaded with gear, a kayak, and canoe pulling the Airstream. Jennifer’s car also fully loaded with gear. Sporting a canoe on top and two dogs in the back. We were a party of four. Jennifer,Zane,Garrett (Jennifer’s nephew), and myself.The dogs Stella and Greaser. Coolers,drinks, and all sorts of dry goods. A fully loaded refrigerator and freezer in the coach. The cupboards and drawers packed in advance. Jennifer is a fabulous planner and organizer. She’s set up the travel coach for efficiency and order.It remained up to us to learn the locations of the different things we’d need as the days unfolded. Our camping locations are state parks without full hook ups so there’s a little extra planning on my end of things. We need the generator and extra gas for it. I use a plastic siphon to gas up my generator. It’s clean and efficient.Better than a funnel I feel.We checked in at our campground then headed to our site after a quick stop to fill the 40 gallon water tank of our coach. I prefer to travel with minimal fresh water on board. At 7 pounds plus per gallon it adds a lot of weight to the trailer.Next came my least favorite part! Backing the trailer into the campsite! We like camping in forested parks so the abundance of trees makes for tricky parking at times. It’s a group effort with spotters on both sides. It’s always a relief once I get it close! We then work together to get it level side to side and front to back. We employ a variety of plastic ramp pieces and pieces of lumber. It gets easier with experience! Front to back is never a problem with the electric tongue jack doing all the work! We begin to work separately after that as I finish the final coach setup. The camp takes shape fairly quickly once the large tent site is chosen. It takes a couple hours of brisk activity to get everything in order in a manner that flows. The boys settle into their space after blowing up air mattresses and rolling out sleeping bags. Our bedroom area is set up permanently at this point so that saves us time! The cooking/dining tent is a vital part of our camp. It cuts down on traffic in and out of the coach. We also have learned to set up an outdoor dishwashing station behind the coach. I mentioned much of this in a recent post but there’s a direction of thought here that begs reflection. It’s that point early in the trip where you settle into a sort of informal daily routine. We spend most of the day outside if the weather is favorable. Cooking and dining both. Evenings find us close to the campfire talking about the adventures of the day. We don’t always do everything as a group. It just depends on the activities that are chosen for any given day. I suppose it’s the use of my time each day that takes me into a pensive forest of thought. I very quickly adapt into a life of late evenings and late mornings. I find myself sleeping in longer. Eight hours in bed sometimes. Very different than the four to five hours of sleeping each night during my working years. I find myself feeling as if I am wasting time or missing out.Perhaps I am still too driven to truly relax. After all time can be a nemesis for me as you may know if you follow my stories. I’m trying to overcome these strange thoughts but it’s going to take some time it appears. A typical morning has certain tasks that must be performed. Perked coffee the first order of business. Much more time consuming than a Keurig but very tasty! Generators can’t be started prior to 9am. The boys sleep late so breakfast becomes a daily brunch. Today we didn’t eat until almost noon! The morning walk to the toilet and drive to the shower house. Our daily activities begin after 1pm many days. Rarely before 11am. Sometimes brunch is early with no cooking at all. Today is day thirteen here for me. We were supposed to go home after six days but Jennifer picked up some cancellations that tied two separate trips together. We actually moved to an adjacent site for one night last Friday. Talk about tear down and set up! We didn’t need to set up the tents at least! Then the kicker! The site we vacated remained empty that night! The whole reservation system is a mess in my opinion! Reserve America? How about we focus on New York State? But that takes us down the dark trail of negativity so let’s get back on track! When I stop and take a solid inventory of my days here where exactly did my time get spent? Most definitely on camp chores. The constant rain events keep us scrambling to dry towels and gear. We had a couple of somewhat destructive rain and wind events. The one two nights ago nearly destroyed our cooking tent.It hit suddenly and fiercely with little warning. It had been a rather lovely day. Warm and humid with a mix of sun and clouds. Zane and I had spent several hours paddling what’s known as the Floodwood Loop. Very fun with two short canoe carries. We had just gone to the shower house to clean up when the storm hit. Jennifer and Garrett rescued the tent and a bunch of our gear. We returned to help salvage the cooking tent and reset it. The boys sleeping tent and large tarp above weathered the storm like nothing happened! Regardless those types of storm events keep us busy! Zane and I have spent quite a bit of time paddling and hiking during the time he’s been here. It’s been in and out some for my three companions here with the endless details back home that can’t be avoided. I’ve pretty much put life back in the valley on hold these last thirteen days. One thing that takes time here is getting to town to get decent cell phone and internet service. We basically need to drive into Tupper Lake to do that most days. We double down picking up necessities like milk and ice. Firewood if we run low. It gives us a little diversity at times. Zane and I often need to drive to reach our hiking trailheads so we do our business on the way. Our most recent hike was up Catamount Mountain. It turned into quite the ordeal when we got separated from the dog on a tough rock scramble! It pretty much finished our day by the time we bushwhacked our way back out after losing the trail while retrieving Gracie. We learned a valuable lesson of teamwork and the importance of not getting separated! We didn’t return until after 7pm and a thunderstorm drove us into the coach. It was one of those nights where we were glad to have it’s kitchen and sleeping amenities! I think it may take some post camp life living to truly reflect on our time spent here. The days run together here and time passes much too fast. I need to run home for a few days before returning for the last three days of our reservation on this site.Today a north born wind chills me when the sun hides behind a cloud for a moment. The clothesline sways and our items finally dry! All is well and the afternoon awaits our decision of how best to spent the remainder of our day. Evening will require the second meal of the day to be crafted. Dishes and the purring generator recharging the batteries. A carefully laid fire if the rains don’t return. Camp life as I have never known it continues for the moment. How best to describe it and honor those moments remains the writer’s challenge. For the hours become rambling and difficult to follow at times in their silent passage. I don’t watch the clock here. I watch the sky and track the movement of the sun if we’re lucky enough to view it. Life flows with the daylight and the darkness. And if I sleep long and deep perhaps I need it. Leaving the race has been a challenge. Not to worry. I always seem to find my way back onto the track for a time. The home on wheels can’t stay here forever nor can we. The energy lives in the forward motion. This life that has become MOONTABS In Motion.Places of outdoor beauty where loons cry and waves gently lap on sandy shores. I try to find my balance here as these summer days tick past. I pull out my map and gaze upon the many unknown waterways that wait for us to explore them. And fondly remember those we know now. The dashes of untraveled trails on a map call with an urgency at times. Perhaps the drive represents more than I can understand at this moment in time. I must enter the now and count my small blessings. To question is to learn new answers. To follow the heart brings passion and love into the light. It is enough this simple existence.The spirit energy will fuel the journey.The stories will follow.