Summer is in full swing! Mid July already.Day six camping here in a wooded state campground in the Adirondacks where I finally take a moment to write. Looking around I can safely make some fairly accurate observations. The “happy campers” surround us. A medley of human diversity and age. A joining together of fellow campers with a variety of gear specific to their personalities. Tents,travel trailers,and motor homes spread across the grounds of this large campground. One thing is very apparent. All types of people gather here. Senior citizens quietly sitting,biking,and walking.Large groups of rowdy party types laughing and hooting as the evening approaches. The family groups. Babies, children and adolescents. The water lovers.Speed boats pulling tubers and skiers. Pontoon boats cruising and checking out all the campsites. Kayakers and canoe enthusiasts. Stand up paddlers and floating inflatables. Those who take time to fish the abundant ponds here. Some are enamored with their shiny towing hardware. Cruising the campsite roads trying to attract attention with horsepower,music, and horns. We’ve thrown ourselves in the mix with our Airstream travel coach parked securely in our reserved space with our boundaries marked by a clothesline covered with towels in a flapping flight of privacy. Different to me this manner of camping but I am growing accustomed to it. The mornings quiet and slow to come to life. The pond calm and still. The time of the loons although I question their choice of home turf with all the boats and jet skis.People begin heading off to the wash rooms and shower facilities. Dry or soaked in this game of weather and circumstance. Plenty of dog lovers out and doing their “duty” walks. The joggers and walkers. Coffee sippers relighting their fires from the former evening. Eventually the vehicles take to the campground street headed to unknown destinations. It’s a late rising sun of energy. Noise the normal here over the course of any given day. There are no full hookup sites here so generators quietly charge batteries sometimes roaring when someone loads them heavily. Constant chopping sounds of fire building folks as afternoon fades to evening. Smoke rises in all directions often hovering over the water like a scented blanket.As the daylight dwindles the campfires glow and twinkle as laughter crosses the water. The happy campers enter the twilight phase as campground enters the realm of nighttime. It’s that time when most engage with the flickering campfire flames and dancing shadows that bounce off the trees and forest canopies. The boats return to anchor. The water calms as darkest comes. Predictable almost until possibly a tricked-out pontoon boat hits the cruise. Party folks relinquish the light with stubborn perseverance it seems. Quiet comes eventually as we retreat to the coach to settle for the night. Zane and Garrett head to Jennifer’s large condo tent where they each enjoy a separate room if they happen to be with us. A routine develops after a day or so. The frantic first day set up forgotten until the last day tear down. We try to work as a team in camp sharing the various responsibilities. Similar to many folks here we brought a separate pole tent that covers our picnic table and serves as an outdoor cooking area as well. Handy when the rainstorms come. We sealed two sides in with tarps to weather proof it further. We hope to purchase one like some of the other campers have set up. Four sided affairs that can totally block out the weather. We are gaining ground as newbie travel coach owners. We add to our gear and continually try to improve our camp life experience. We have the ability to cook inside the Airstream but prefer to make our meals and dine outside mostly. Rain events drive us inside and it’s nice to have the option of using the stove and microwave! We also leaned after our debut trip that setting up a dishwashing station behind the coach makes for a better quality experience. We use a folding camp table next to our outside shower spray head. Hot water and cold. We are fortunate enough to have a water spigot right in front of our site! Handy for filling jugs and the rinse water dish pan. Since we are basically boondocking we need to watch the volume of flow into our gray and black water tanks. We have adapted quickly I feel and have had no trouble to date. I call our manner of boondocking “hybrid” since we use the park facilities for toilets and showers. It works out well for us! The properly set up camp assures that we are truly happy campers! The weather certainly can change our attitudes at times but it’s to be expected when you try to live outdoors. We prepare for the rain as much as possible and regroup after every storm. Some folks however become the unhappy campers! We see blown over tents and soaked gear as we drive to the shower house. “Tarp worlds” sagging and torn from the wind. The energy of the returning sun finds people digging out and drying their possessions. Then there’s the other type of unhappy camper! The ones who fail to notice overhanging trees along the campground roads until they rip their awning or other parts of their rigs. Pull ahead with their trailer jacks still extended as one fellow did the other day. Some wedge their rigs into impossible places to the point of having trouble getting them back out onto the road! I truly admire the driving skills of some who get backed onto tight places! Backing into the site makes me rather anxious even with the camera systems on the truck and coach. It’s a team moment that counts! A lot goes into getting that happy camper atmosphere built. The good thing about this location is the ability to paddle beyond the range of where the motor boats are allowed. There’s also a few nice hiking trails here. There’s certainly an abundance of hiking trails within a short driving distance here near Tupper Lake,N.Y. Zane and I hiked Coney and Goodman mountains a couple days ago on a very cloudy day. Easy and fairly short hikes both well under four miles round trip. Super views from the top of both. We also did a little fishing recently. We didn’t have much luck until we embarked on a late afternoon paddle into a remote pond. We returned with three barely legal bass and good stories of the ones that got away! We stayed out way to late and didn’t make it back to camp until after dark. I cooked the fish the next day over a hardwood fire in a large cast iron skillet. Well worth the trip we took and a tasty appetizer for our evening meal! Happy campers most definitely! It’s a typical sunny day here as I write this post. Boats pulling tubers and people floating on the gentle waves. We love our waterfront site and have quiet neighbors. We are the happy campers provided everyone follows our simple camp rules! Jennifer maintains a certain expectation of camp protocol and I respect her dedication to adherence to the rules! It takes some perseverance to keep a camp from falling into chaos. I drafted a name for camp today! “Camp 4C”. It means cleanliness,consideration,cooperation,and concentration. I realize that as a father I must lead by example if I expect our group to be happy campers. I wrote it for my benefit primarily. To serve as a daily reminder of the importance of thinking of others feelings and well being. I hope this simple name will serve us well for many years to come! I hope Zane and Garrett copy it. Carry it forward like a torch of positivity. Einstein once said that we never fail until we quit trying. Agreed! I wish for those who camp with me to have many happy MOONTABS! Especially my ADK Girl Jennifer! The Queen of her coach! Our adventure continues tomorrow as we tear down and reset the camp for one night before moving to a new location nearby. A new happy camper will occupy our site and I sincerely wish them well! We will pass many campsites on the way to reach ours Saturday. We share a common thread with these unknown strangers. We smile and wave. Always say hello. We make every attempt to be good neighbors and good stewards of this special place. We are blessed! For a time we are living in our beloved Adirondack Mountains! We must make this fleeting days of summer count in every way possible. As teachers and as students in this school of coexistence. I make a solemn pledge this day to make camp life better for those who join me here. That way we all become the happy campers!
Tag Archives: Adventures
The Debut
It’s been a busy summer so far and time seems to be flying! We’ve continued outfitting our Airstream coach since bringing it to Jennifer’s. She took charge inside setting up drawers and cabinets with all sorts of household items that would be needed to make for a successful outing. She’s good at things like that but it takes some thinking to make everything flow when space is at a premium. We settled for a 27 ft. coach for several reasons. Weight was certainly a factor although my truck is capable of towing a much larger trailer. I’m very impressed with how well it actually tows! It’s very stable with the “Blue Ox” hitch I purchased at the dealer coupling it to the truck. I haven’t towed it that many miles yet but know that I’d leave for a cross country trip with no hesitation! I also purchased a type of insurance called “Coach Net”. It’s like Triple A on steroids! We hope to never need to use it but it provides some nice benefits if we ever have issues with the coach or problems of any kind on the road. Time will tell the tale and I’ll give it a review sometime. My thoughts were simple. We travel to have an enjoyable adventure.Why not do everything we can to give ourselves peace of mind? Check it out if you’re not familiar with it! Another factor in choosing our coach size was our desire to “fit” ourselves easily into camping sites. Backing a travel coach into sites can be challenging. Experience will come in time I realize but it’s a little daunting! In the Adirondacks we haven’t seen any “pull through” sites to date. They may exist but we haven’t found them yet. In fact the places that we are camping don’t even have full hookups. I’ll cover that in greater detail at some point. A third reason for purchasing our coach was practicality. We expect that Jennifer and I will often be traveling alone. Two people and two dogs. We have plenty of space for that! All this being said we slowly transited into a “pre-flight” mode of setup. I load tested the small Honda generator I purchased for boondocking. Quiet and easy to move around at 47 lbs. Our twin set of batteries keep the coach alive when we aren’t connected to a permanent power source. The refrigerator functions with electricity or propane so there’s never an issue there. Same with the water heater.We’re very self contained. Pretty typical for most campers but I think Airstream has added some nice bonus features. We have an onboard inverter for added power when the batteries are utilized. Having two batteries is definitely a bonus. The days ticked past and our debut camping trip drew ever closer. We checked off our lists and added to them as well! Our trip would be a bit of a hybrid. A mix of outdoor cooking and some items kept in a cooler. Our Airstream has a nice sized refrigerator and freezer but our trip was to last for 6 days. A cooler was still a necessity. A tent was as well. Jennifer’s giant two room tent would house Zane and his belongings. Overflow storage as well. I also brought my screen house but I‘ll revisit that some other time! We planned to use the toilets and shower facilities at the campground to conserve our water supply and not overtax our gray and black water tanks. You can’t make it 6 days with 3 people otherwise with no hookups. Our group was supposed to be larger but circumstances kept that from happening. With a larger group using the park facilities would be even more of a necessity.The weather forecast was less than perfect but we decided to keep our plans regardless. Having the comforts of the coach outweighed any negatives overall. We packed extra tarps just in case we needed them. Jennifer and I both like using plastic totes for storing camping gear. They’re easy to transport and great for organizing your belongings. We set up a staging area in Jennifer’s garage and our gear pile grew quickly! We planned on taking the canoes so there’s paddles, life vests, and cushions to pack. Folding chairs and camp tables. We decided to cook outside so we were bringing a propane stove and griddle as well. We use the picnic table that sits on every site for a multi purpose work station and eating location. It’s amazing the number of items it takes to prepare for a comfortable outing! We also included our fishing equipment into the pile. Jennifer began stocking food,spices, and paper products into the coach as the week progressed. We started the refrigerator 24 hours before our departure to get it cooled down properly. It takes longer for an Rv type refrigerator to cool due to its design. We placed some blue ice packs into both the frig and freezer to aid in the process. Things were shaping up! We got the truck prepped and packed ahead of time as well. Monday morning came and I got ready to hook onto the coach. It takes a few minutes and there’s a checklist of sorts that I follow. Finally the moment leading to departure. Light check. I powered up the coach camera that is typically used for backing up but it’s a great tool when driving! It gives you added vision when on the highway. I felt that momentary twinge of anxiety I get just before towing any trailer but knew it would quickly pass. The truck and Airstream are well matched for the road! It always amazes me the amount of time it takes to prepare for an outing away from the comforts of our homes! But it’s time well spent when you plan properly!The day had arrived that had sat on calendars weeks in advance. The debut was about to begin. The events of those days of camping worthy of their own post. It was time to begin MOONTABS In Motion!
What’s Over The Next Hill?
The simple words of a title can’t always capture the passion that inspires a story or even come close. Several weeks ago my short and sweet post titled Glamping would break the ice and provide a tiny background into my love of camping. In my desire to seize the moment and hurl myself into the realms of nature all else can fade somewhat. The words must wait as I chase the daylight across the sky. For there is intense energy in the poetry of motion and the magic that waits for us in the great outdoors. It’s as much a part of me as anything. As for the title of this post the words are borrowed. They will forever belong to a man named Wally Byam. I borrow them with respect for they truly resonate within my inner spirit. Who was Wally Byam? He was the creative energy,passion,and founder of the Airstream Company. You’ve no doubt see their signature travel trailers as you journey the highways of North America. Their metal hulls instantly recognizable and truly unique.Why my sudden interest and connection to Airstream? The story is much deeper than even I realized until today. It wasn’t until I visited the Airstream home page and read the story of Wally Byam that I could truly appreciate my connection to his words. Wally’s Creed. Powerful and meaningful to me.It sends a shiver up my spine and adds fuel to a fire that has always burned. As for the video Airstream created it’s remarkable! Check it out! The camera footage of vintage tow vehicles and travel trailers alone makes it worth watching! Why the sudden interest in the Airstream story and Wally Byam? I will need to back up for that one for a few paragraphs. Traveling was not a big part of my childhood or adolescent years. We never owned a travel trailer or even camped.I was the lover of camping! The thousands of acres surrounding us provided ample space for me to explore. Books and magazines connected me to far off destinations. Historically speaking, I have always secretly regretted not being born in the 1800s. Tales of explorers and fur trappers out on those wide expanses of America would trigger my imagination. Western novels of the old west as well. Ranches and cattle drives. Alaska and the frontiers of fortune. Our mom loved to travel but it was hard to get our Dad to vacation so our Aunt Betty Washburn traveled with us! We toured parts of upstate New York and the New England states as far up as Maine. Great memories that time turns hazy as years pass and the decades run together. After our Mom died our father eventually decided that we needed a family vacation around 1978. We left in a giant Ford Mercury. A boat of a car! Two weeks on the road would take us to Arizona and back. The Grand Canyon,the Painted Desert, and the Petrified Forest baked into my memory in the dry,arid lands so very different than home. I loved the experience although towards the end I was rather burned out by the daily long distance itinerary. Miles and miles of travel. Motel rooms and sometimes sketchy restaurants that challenged the digestive tract!But I’ve always treasured that road vacation as it was the only one we ever did together. Our Father’s job,the farm, and my sister’s entrance into college were all factors in lives dictated by time. By work and schedule. Overall the trip broadened my horizons considerably. On the roads we passed the Airstream trailers. “Sardine Cans” our father called them!Fast forward many years. 2012. The Alaska road trip towing a used travel trailer with a new Ford 3.5L Ecoboost power plant. I’d never lost my imagination or desire to travel and with the approach of my birthday it was time. Age 50 was one I’d be taking seriously. Time and travel had been grabbed in small pieces until that 5 week road trip.The trailer was sold in Alaska and never replaced in the frantic years that followed. But retirement in November 2017 changed the game. Zane and I threw ourselves in camping and hiking in the Adirondacks. I met Jennifer.A woman who’s love of travel equals if not surpasses my own. We’ve discussed traveling many times. We’ve experienced some fabulous family vacationing in the Adirondacks and once in California together. The drive to branch out and head off to new places has intensified since the events of 2020 forced restrictions that halted long distance travel.This year we began to seriously consider purchasing a travel trailer or Rv after I sold my home of 6 years. Hours upon hours of research. Endless reviews complete with purchaser horror stories. Indecision began to steal the fun from the moment. Buy new or used? Which brand? Certain ones were impossible to locate and would require waiting almost a year if one was ordered! We found a decent used one that we decided would work this year. We’d order our new one and have it in the spring in time for summer travel. But the deal feel through suddenly and without warning much to my dismay. I began to search once again. I looked at a few new ones here in the St. Law. Co. area but nothing felt right. No offense but there are some rather disposable travel trailers out there. I recently read that the average life of some travel trailers is a mere 15 years! Yikes! Not a good investment considering the cost. I wasn’t thrilled with any of the used travel trailers we located near us. It was a very disappointing moment for me! But the energy of the universe works in mysterious ways. I suddenly began considering an Airstream for the first time. Call it that gut feeling we sometimes get. I previously had felt that an Airstream was beyond our reach as a sensible investment but as I researched every aspect of them I decided that we should try and find one! There were several key factors that factored into that long term investment of features, and quality.Finding one proved somewhat difficult however. But I was not easily deterred once I decided that an Airstream was the perfect fit for my long term vision of MOONTABS. My search led me to Colton Rv in Orchard Park, New York just outside of Buffalo. They had 4 used Airstreams for sale so I made the 4 hour plus trip down on a Tuesday morning just planning to look. I had never stepped into an Airstream despite my researched familiarity with their floor plans and accessories. I ended up buying one! The experience deserves a more detailed post. There’s an energy that lead me there having never read Wally Byam’s words until today. I need to ponder it and try to get the story right! The dream of MOONTABS can be found in the life of Wally Byam and what his company has represented since 1931. Honestly, I still haven’t totally gotten used to the fact that we now own an Airstream and it’s parked in Jennifer’s yard being prepped for a trip! The time spent researching a travel coach purchase is behind us. The open road is there ahead of us! We’re proud of our decision and all it represents for the MOONTABS dream!Watch for an upcoming post showcasing the life of Airstream founder Wally Byam,Colton Rv, and the Airstream family of travel coach’s! It’s inspiring to say the least! As for my connection to Wally Byam? My word’s as a young boy quoted back to me by our father eerily and similarly echoed in a quote of his. They were penned by me in November of 2017. My story is called “The Other Side of the Hill”. I leave you with Wally’s quote: “Keep your eyes on the stars,and the stars in your eyes…see if you can find out what’s over the next hill, and the next one after that.” (Does that give you a shiver or pause to reflect?)I feel I made the right choice without even knowing why. Spirit energy? Or simple coincidence? I chose the energy every time now. It’s going to be a wild ride my friends!✍️
Horsing Around On The Obx
We’ve just returned from a whirlwind trip to North Carolina moving Jennifer’s daughter to the Durham area. We were so close to the coast that we decided to spend a couple days there exploring and seeing the sights. The roads and highways in the Durham area are quite busy but as we ventured towards the coast the traffic thinned and we enjoyed some beautiful country scenery. Our route took us through several small villages where prosperity or lack of it was rather obvious. Only with investigation could we ever know the true story of life in these small towns or the people who call them home. There was a rigorous amount of agricultural activities which were good to see. Fields of sprouting corn, grain, and things unknown to us from the windows of the truck. Eventually as we neared the coast the land became very low lying with swampy sections of mixed forests and water filled ditches. We began to spot numerous turtles sunning themselves on logs and bogs. We reached an access road leading into the Alligator River Wildlife Refuge and decided to take a back road tour of it. Apparently black bears live here and we kept a watchful eye on the thick brushy ditches and open maintained clearings. A local kayak adventure company does tours here we learned on some of the coastal waterways within the refuge. We eventually grew tired of seeing nothing but turtles and endless watery ditches so we began to seek a way out. The dirt roads were quite well maintained and decent to travel with only a few other vehicles out there with us. As we neared the intersection that would that us out to our paved destination we spotted a stopped van. At the same moment Jennifer spotted a black bear in the road in front of the van. It was rather thin and gangly in appearance though. Not the robust hardy sort we might encounter occasionally back home. We guessed it to be rather young . We watched it for some time as it foraged along the road. We wondered if people had left food or something for it. Illegal in New York State most definitely. It obviously had a large sanctuary to roam in this huge refuge that’s for sure. We continued our travels leaving the bear to his(her) snacking and felt grateful to have seen it. The traffic picked up as we neared the coast and we crossed a large bridge with beautiful coastal scenery in all directions. We stopped at the Roanoke Island Visitor Center for a brief break gathering brochures and maps of the OBX. The staff were friendly and knowledgeable! I mentioned driving up to see the wild horses of Corolla and they offered sage advice. The highways of the OBX were busy and brisk as people were moving about on the Memorial Day weekend. We found our Airbnb easily with the truck’s navigation system. Paired with Jennifer’s phone travel was rather simple with few complications. Jennifer is a first rate navigator always! Her planning and attention to details is unmatched in my opinion. I drive and she navigates. Perfect!Our cozy Airbnb was tucked away in a residential section of Kill Devil Hills. The owner stepped out and exchanged greetings with us. I asked about the wild horses and he offered tips for driving the 4wd drive stretches of beach where we might encounter them. “Deflate your tires or you may get stuck” was his final tidbit of advice. One I chose to ignore despite the signs along the route recommending it. My 2021 F-150 has a special transmission setting for sand and deep snow. I chose to test it out although honestly I was a little anxious about my decision to not deflate. We followed the signs that were bringing us closer to Corolla where the pavement ends and the sandy driving beaches begin. We liked the small town of Duck with its abundance of shops and restaurants. There is little undeveloped land however with beach houses, motels, and gated communities covering the landscape. The roads were packed with vehicles and travel was slow but steady. A driver must remain ever vigilant here. We reached the point of no return and engaged the 4wd and transmission setting. Onto the land stretches of beach with a variety of other vehicles. Large groups of people were set up partying and enjoying the sun. It was a bit of a free for all atmosphere with T-charged young men racing through the deeper sections of sand with obvious abandon. It was rather thrilling actually and I took the truck right to the oceans edge and drove the smooth wet sand. Some sections next to the surf are off limits and we were forced into the deep dry sand for some bumpy 4wd fun! The truck handled well and my fears of being stuck left me. The wild horses were absent from the frantic human activities of the beaches. No surprise there. We spotted a couple of the wild horse tour trucks and decided to follow them. They lead us off the beach onto narrow sandy roads sprinkled with numerous beach houses. There were no signs for the most part and we continued to probe deeper. We began to spot piles of dry horse droppings but still no horses. We hit a couple of dead end streets where no trespassing signs warned us away and made for tricky turn arounds.We lost sight of the tour truck but eventually spotted two others back on the beach and gave chase. They once again led us from the beach and eventually our efforts paid off when Jennifer suddenly spotted a pair feeding on a lawn next to a beach house! We watched them for some time and resumed our search. We spotted a few near an inland canal but couldn’t get very close. But our persistence paid off and we encountered about a dozen or feeding right beside the road. They paid no attention to us and we actually had to get too close to them in the process of turning around. Mission accomplished! We tackled the deep sands of the beach and returned to the paved roads of civilization. We found a crowded restaurant and enjoyed some yummy Mahi Mahi tacos.It was almost chilly sitting outside but we enjoyed our meal away from the crowded interior. We stopped at an abandoned real estate office parking lot and watched the sunset. Beautiful and red. The perfect way to end our day of adventures. Safely tucked into our rooms we studied the facts of the wild horses of the OBX. Descendants of Spanish mustangs they once numbered 5000 -6000 in a survey conducted in 1926. They now number a mere 100 -110. It seems they were a nuisance and considered feral by the National Park Service as the Cape Hatteras park was created. A bounty was placed on them and they were destroyed. Now controlled and monitored closely they live in a roughly 7544 acre compound of public and private lands. Reading of their demise was disturbing and sad for us. Human sprawl and development. The need for space.Something as tourists we were part of to some degree. One can only imagine what this landscape offered once. But we felt privileged to have gazed upon them and watched their carefree roaming. They are said to cover roughly 15-20 miles per day sometimes grazing on their specialized diets. We hope to return and view them again sometime. Our final day on the OBX was a busy one! We hit a local donut shop called Duck Donuts for yummy breakfast treats. We toured the town of Roanoke on a leisurely and relaxing stroll. Stopping to tour the lighthouse and gain some historical knowledge of the location. Our next stop was incredible! The dunes of Jockey’s Ridge State Park. Free and open to the public. The highest dune complex on the East coast. Truly remarkable in its vastness. It’s a bit tiring walking in the deep sand and made for some comical moments. Those times when Jennifer and I checkout. Living and laughing in the now. Free and unencumbered by anything. The dunes are a must see if you are in the OBX. Our next stop was the eastern side of Kill Devil Hills where we strolled the beach enjoying the surf and gathering seashells. Later we experienced a wonderful dining experience outside at the Blue Point Restaurant in Duck. I highly recommend it! We returned to the dunes of Jockey’s Ridge to watch the sun set on our day. We rose early and headed out to a local breakfast shop called Biscuits and Porn. No clue there as to the name but it was worth our time stopping. So we left the OBX with special MOONTABS and know we will return again. After all, we barely scratched the surface of all that awaits a visitor. But that’s the magic of travel and adventure for those who crave it. The sun sets for us in new and exciting locations. I chase those sunsets with my lovely companion and enjoy a most special life with her. It is but the beginning of a much larger story I pray. For blessings are mine and I humbly acknowledge them. To share our story and all we learn.Dollars well invested in life and experiences. That’s the message. Wander wisely and reap the rewards. The Great Wander looms with hopeful imagination. It’s always been a dream of mine. To see what lies over the next hill. I’ll try to tell the story well.
Glamping
I have spent many years camping since my early boyhood adventures shortly after we moved to the farm around 1970. My first campsites were primitive but carefully chosen for their rock formations or views. The locations scattered across the one hundred plus acre of the farm. Little or no evidence remains of those sites these days. Maybe a few fire circles crafted of gathered rocks that nature continues to reclaim with each passing year. Some day to transition back into their former state of wildness. They will only exist in the hazy depths of my memory. I show some of them to Zane on our many wanderings in Macomb. As a well seasoned camper since his earliest memories they hold little allure to him as actual camping destinations. He’s conditioned to mountains and waterways where more abundant activities abound. But as boy I didn’t have the benefits of those distant locations. My father wasn’t a camper but encouraged my love of it. None the less I enjoyed many adventures within walking distance. I learned to prepare and pack for an overnight trip where I would need to prepare dinner, build a fire, and try to escape the hordes of biting mosquitoes. My trusty basset hound Hush Puppy would often be my only companion although as I got older my friends began to join me. As for my shelters they varied from simple leanto structures constructed with an old canvas tarp and poles of wood to a small pup tent I got on my 12th birthday. 46 years later I still possess that tiny shelter of countless memories as only a hoarder type can enjoy. In time my wanderlust expanded and with a driver’s license,bigger tents, and added camping equipment the destinations crept out to new terrain. My friends joined in and we had some pretty crazy times out there. The tempting warm days of spring where mornings would cover the landscape with blankets of frost. Blistering hot summer nights where it was almost impossible to sleep with hundreds of buzzing mosquitoes attempted to breach the tent screen. Chilly fall storms and freezing temperatures would find us hunkered by the campfire. Offering silent prayers to the sky that morning would find us dry. But I remained ever passionate and true to my love of the outdoors. The wet gear was dried. Dirty clothes and bodies washed clean. The discomforts would be forgotten and the next adventure would take form in the mind.Many stories live within this story and probably should be written in time. Years passed and I became a more experienced and well traveled camper at any rate. It wasn’t until 2012 that I would enter the world of I call “glamping”. We purchased a used 19 ft travel trailer and a new truck for an extended road trip to Alaska. That too is a unique story. I took to the life of a camper traveler quite quickly actually. Not without a serious and stressful learning curve! I survived the trial and made the 4600 mile to Alaska safely with family intact. After a 2 week stay we made the decision to sell the trailer in Wasilla after our friend’s dad said he’d help us accomplish that objective. That would end my ownership of a travel trailer every since. But that brief life of adventure has never left my heart or my mind. It tugs like an invisible magnet and lifts my inner spirit. The road calls and many of my questions I offer into a sleepless night may be answered out there somewhere in those vast and wild expanses. It is my life long passion to wander and seek the unknown. That story is written in my short story “The Other Side of the Hill”. I have no reservations about placing it in my first book. It’s tied to everything. I wander far within this post itself and apologize for the length of it! But here I sit outside a rented travel trailer in the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York with a calm lake awaiting our paddles and sunny skies beckoning. What would you do?Sit and tap out a blog or take off? A day waits for us out and a new story waits as well. I am the happy camper once again. Or should I say Glamper? A little of both but I will explain that later. Sorry no time for edits! Teachers grab your red pens!
Of Highways,Hikes,Hills,and History: Part 2
Wow! I really took you off my intended path yesterday! I’m worried now that there’s some lost readers in the forests of the Taz Grand Wilderness in need of rescuing! Maybe they will chose to hide and never be seen again rather than being rescued. Who knows?I think I’ll blame Jennifer’s daughter. She may not read the post tonight. She introduced me to some coffee pods called “Electric Buzz”. Are you getting the picture? Me. Nicknamed Taz. Busy gulping maple syrup infused coffee called Electric Buzz while tapping out a blog post?Questionable and possibly a dangerous combination! Today’s coffee spin wore off hours ago so I think I can get you back on the path of Saturday’s interesting adventure. I left you on the Low’s Lower Dam headed to the trailhead. I’ve known about this trail that leads to a pond on the other side of the dam for many years. I always intended to hike it someday but never bothered to take the time or research the pond itself. It’s actually a lake I recently discovered called Big Trout Lake. One of some size in fact. It’s also been called Big Trout Pond as well. Sometimes simply Trout Pond. Jennifer recently bought us the book titled:Hiking The Trail To Yesterday Volume 2 by William C. Hill. We enjoy reading volume 1 by the same author so she purchased volume 2 without question. He’s an author from the Edwards,N.Y. area and injects his stories of trail wanderings with fascinating history. Once I read his description of the trail to Big Trout Lake and what we’d find there I was hooked! The factional information that I am going to share mostly goes to his credit alone. It comes from his research of the Low’s Dynasty as it’s known.I was very familiar with the story of A.A.Low and his Adirondack enterprises. He dammed the Bog River in two locations, generated electricity,built camps, ran a large maple syrup business, and built a rather impressive list of other accomplishments. In time his family liquidated his holdings and the state of N.Y. purchased much of the land. The two dams remain. The lower one the subject of my post and the upper one upstream that holds back the water of Low’s Lake. As I previously mentioned it’s a favorite paddling destination of ours. Beautiful and wild with nature reclaiming the ruins of A.A.Lows empire. I never knew until recently however that the Big Trout Lake area had been part of that empire. Knowing that there were historical ruins to explore proved too much for my curiosity. I felt that a hike back to the lake was in order regardless of any trail conditions we might encounter. Mud season can be tricky but it’s been a fairly dry spring so I hoped the trail would be fine. Here’s the part that might confuse you however. I had only gleaned through the book without making field notes or bothering to consult a map. I left the book home and didn’t bother to read it again before deciding on the hike as a destination. It’s that thrill factor that some explorers crave. I am not immune to seeking thrills. It gets people into trouble sometimes usually because they fail to prepare properly. We didn’t fit that mold Saturday. There’s no mileage sign at the trailhead like some areas of the Adirondacks. Just a wide well trodden path leading up a small grade. Off we set! The trail traveled through a mixed forest of maples, birch, balsam, and spruce. The occasional hemlock graced the forest as did a few white pines but the deciduous trees dominated most of forest. The leaves are just now forming and the woods have an open feel. In shaded groves patches of recent snow lingered but was disappearing fast as the warm sunny day gained heat. There were only a few flies here and there to annoy us as well. The trail continued to rise in elevation and was pleasantly dry most of the time. This changed however in one section and we rock hopped across small cobble stones or sometimes even left the trail . The brown layers of last seasons leaves crunching under our feet were flattened by the winter’s snowfall. Their fragrance earthy and organic to match their plain coloring as they begin to return to the earth. Jennifer and Garrett stopped frequently at points of interest along the trail. There were funky shaped trees covered with many different species of decomposer fungi. Rocks,burls,and a large erratic boulder that I felt compelled to climb. I grew very warm after and needed to shed a layer. Stowed into the day pack after a few sips of water during the break. The trail continued to rise slightly but a break in the trees told me that the land was about to fall away. I figured the lake would greet us as we summited the small ridge but there was only a forested valley below. My companions looked at me for guidance as to the lake’s location but I had nothing to reassure them about the amount of distance remaining. A quick glance at my phone for the time prompted me to make a decision. I decided to leave Jennifer and Garrett behind while I ran ahead to see if I could find the lake. I feared they might wish to turn back if I couldn’t give them tangible evidence of the lakes’s location. The trail turned left in a long sweeping descent of the ridge. Very dry and smooth it was great for a forest jog. I covered some ground quickly and soon reached a place where the trail began to descend rather quickly. I still couldn’t see any lake! I stopped for a moment to catch my breath and decided to ascend another ridge that was directly beside me. It was the highest ground around and with the absence of leaves would give me an extremely good vantage point. I reached its small summit looking East over the much lower ground. Nothing! No lake! I turned 180 degrees scanning the forest for the lake. At first I saw nothing then suddenly it appeared on the far horizon. Water of some magnitude. It had to be the lake! Words can fail to describe the sudden rush I felt. It’s that moment the explorer chases with a tenacious attitude and resolve. It was that moment of seeing something for the first time and the buzz that follows. It reminded me of a pair of beautiful green eyes that had held my gaze some time ago for the first time. Intriguing and deep with mystery. Exploration of another kind had ensued. The brain would buzz and the heart would stir. Very soon the lips would fail to remain silent and utter simple words filled with all a heart might contain or ever hope to contain. There lies that place of peace that beckons through the trees. The sun disappeared behind a cloud and a sudden chill brought me back from my romantic muses. I quickly gauged the distance to the lake and raced back to Jennifer and Garrett. Pleaded the case for continuing the hike as we were painfully close now. They agreed and we continued on with a renewed sense of vigor. The trail remained dry as we continued our descent to the lake. It became more visible through the forest. I suddenly noticed something off to the side in a stand of white pine. A folding camp chair on a primitive camp site below us.A closer investigation revealed old concrete piers also. This had been the location of a cabin or some structure. Some old car parts littered the ground as well. Rusty and unidentifiable. We continued on towards the lake and encountered additional concrete piers. There was a more intact foundation with more loose metal debris scattered about. An old hubcap. A rusty bed frame. Misc. leavings that you’d expect around an old building site. The lake was close now and wind tossed waves slapped the somewhat low shoreline. Floating logs were washed up and pinned into the shallow sandy bottom. The lake surface rolled with small white caps and the far end looked to be close to a mile in the distance. 157 acres of lake I later read. We scouted a small waterfall coming off the ridge. I searched for more building sites but found only a second primitive camp site and a well hidden canoe. I’d later learn that there were once 19 buildings at the end of the lake. Their remains are in a somewhat swampy section that we didn’t scout. It was time to head out and I really didn’t want to leave the peaceful lake setting. We had it all to ourselves. On the descent to the lake I had noticed what I suspected had been another road. I followed it’s downward curve and suddenly spotted an old vehicle! It’s worthy of its own post once I research its timeline. The remainder of our trip out was uneventful but pleasant. My mind full of questions and happy thoughts. I heard the most wonderful sound suddenly. Laughter in the sunny forest. The sound of a happy ADK Girl lost in the moment in this beautiful,pristine place. I offer these memories to you. These MOONTABS and all they truly mean. These are the finest moments one could possibly experience. We came to find a lake. I found so much more. I dedicate this post to Jennifer and Garrett for placing their trust in me once again. For going the distance. Over 15 thousand steps give or take a few. I will be back with Zane to find the ruins we missed. Another story for another day.
Of Highways,Hikes,Hills,and History: Part 1
Friday’s post was a little cloudy and saturated with emotion. I sprinkled you with emotional rain. I hope I didn’t leave you badly soaked! Perhaps today’s post will dry you out! I received several positive comments and one thank you after posting Stalled Out. That’s perfect! I wrote it for one. I wrote it for everyone. Nature teaches us that life can be difficult and heartbreaking. But also joyful and full of hope. Things occur quickly and without warning. Change is a constant of our lives. We must adapt to survive. It’s nothing new or some sudden revelation. It’s a fascinating study of mine. How life has evolved and flourished on our tiny planet. The balance of nature and steady cycle of season. Death and new life. We as modern humans still exist in a struggle of survival. It’s all about love and passion. Dreams and strength. Enough said. I followed through on my message Friday. I headed out with simple goals and a few tasks to complete. I picked Jennifer up at her house. Grabbed the dogs and we headed off to purchase ourselves some badly needed hiking boots. My trusted Merrill’s had logged many muddy Adirondack miles and were ready for honorable retirement. I keep them until there’s nothing left using them around the farm. Jennifer and I enjoyed a simple lunch in Malone. Frozen dog treats for Stella and Max!Yum!We then proceeded up through the Owl’s Head area. I like this part of the Adirondacks so feature it sometime as a travel destination for curious explorers. The remainder of our day was spent traveling around the Adirondacks. A quick stop at the Meacham Lake State Campground for awhile where we enjoyed a quiet abandoned setting. It was one of those carefree days Jennifer and I often enjoy. The road. The Adirondacks. A stop and go joy ride. Turn here! Wait! I just saw something. Go back! A real estate cruise through Saranac Lake then Tupper Lake. Conversations and the sometimes heavy topics that need to be shared with each other. The movement of the vehicle and rhythm of the singing tires frees them at times. The day follows the movement of the sun as do the subjects. The need to stem my steady flow of words and listen closely. Or just enjoy a comfortable silence together. Jennifer might say there’s rarely a comfortable silence around me! I probably shouldn’t drink coffee! She didn’t give me the nickname Taz without a reason! I create an energetic spin that’s a little too intense sometimes. Not always a blessing but it gets us into some interesting situations! Our day closed with a walk through the Higley Flow State Campground. Why all the exploring of campgrounds? Four reasons. Number one: scouting possible camping destinations. Number two: off season means minimal people. Number three: choosing to hike hard durable surfaces during the mud season. Number four: beautiful destinations that are easily reached. If I had to summarize Friday for myself I’d say objectives accomplished! The stalled out attitude gone and the tank was filling with enthusiastic energy. A good rest Friday night would usher in a coffee fueled morning for me. I exited Jennifer’s house while she woke up hoping to spare her from Taz energy for a bit as I tackled some lawn work and played ball with the dogs. The sun rose and the promise of the day showed itself as we completed our short list of tasks. We grabbed Jennifer’s nephew Garrett and headed out with two excited dogs pointed towards the Adirondacks. I had chosen our destination with a gambler’s decision to throw it all on the table as our day would be decided by it.The sun was warm and inviting on our drive as I divulged all that I knew about our hiking location and what we might encounter there. I hadn’t done a lot of research deliberately as I don’t always wish to dissect an adventure with every last detail. I like the buzz of the unknown. My companions asked about the mileage and trail conditions but I had few answers for them. I simply said that I felt it was well within our abilities with our daylight safety margin acknowledged. Zane and I had managed to safely complete our ADK 46 High Peaks quest in September of 2020 learning many things while experiencing those adventures! I was comfortable yesterday with my companions preparedness and abilities. I had chosen the Bog River area near Tupper Lake as we were all familiar with the location. We were forced to park at the locked gate near the access road to the Low’s Lower dam. It’s off bumpy Route 421 alongside Horseshoe Lake.The Low’s Lower Dam site is a favorite paddling destination of ours and is featured in an earlier blog post of mine. The locked gate meant that we would need to walk further to reach the trailhead I sought. It added .75 miles to our hike I later learned. But I felt we needed to complete this hike before black fly season hit in May. Last year our paddle up the flow in mid-May found us under the constant onslaught of biting black flies!Yuck!My reasons for choosing this destination were two fold. A double dip exploration and research outing. I had recently read a DEC notification about the lowering of the water behind the dam to complete necessary repairs for a breach of some sort. Having paddled it so many times in the past I was curious to see what it would look like with less water. Jennifer was interested in this as well as she loves our paddle outings up to Hitchin’s Pond and the upper dam. So the hike would also serve as a scouting mission for a future paddle sometime this year.Jennifer suggested we eat our lunch before heading out on our adventure. We basked bug free on some boulders in the sun while the dogs frolicked and enjoyed their snacks. There’d be less to carry and we would be well fortified prior to walking.We packed waters and some chocolate. We were dressed in season appropriate layers. We were ready!The gravel road beyond the locked gate was dry and easy walking. The scent of balsam teased our nostrils and never fails to draw me into the moment. We could hear the roar of spillway long before we reached the dam. Not before I heard a drumming ruffed grouse however. A sure sign of spring! The DEC had started their work and we found the water level about three feet lower than normal as we approached the dam. We spotted some paddlers up the flow and were reassured that a paddle could still occur at a later date if we desired. I remarked to Jennifer that I am going to need to make the paddle and see what’s become of our beaver friends up there. Just how will they react to the dropping water level? Will they suddenly feel the need to dam the river in a location that’s always been deep with no need for dams? But that is another story and I have no answers yet. Jennifer and I share a special connection to these beaver and this beautiful place. We made wonderful memories here together. As solid as the dam that hold the water back. Ours forever now. The writer in me holds these memories in my heart and in time I will open the gates and release them downstream as stories. The water isn’t meant to stay in one location nor can the dam hold it all back. The water flows with powerful energy and if I am the dam do I need repairing so the sanctuary can remain? Much like the dam I age. The flowing waters of gathered years erode and threaten my strength.It’s a perplexing thought and floats me far from my intended message. A side tributary of the original story that enters behind the dam. One which provides a calm and safe refuge against what could otherwise be a raging set of falls. The pond is deep but never meant to be frozen solid and trapped in eternal silence. The real story of yesterday’s adventure must wait until tomorrow. I’ve simply led you down the gravel road to the dam. I humbly ask you to stand there a moment and get lost in the roar while you search for the rainbows in the spillway spray. The path waits for you on the other side. But you must cross the dam first to see it. This new day can’t wait and tasks must be tackled before the setting sun drops in the west. Part two of this story lives in MOONTABS already secured. The dam will hold it back only briefly. That is the nature of flowing water and flowing words.
Ice Age:Part 2
The second part of our ice climbing adventure involved some travel time. Chad decided the temperatures were decent enough for us to climb in the Cascade Pass. Situated between Lake Placid and Keene its high rocky cliffs offer some great ice climbs. Parking is limited in this area but we managed to squeeze in just off the somewhat busy highway.There was a well trodden trail leading up to the series of ice falls. Two other climbers were busy preparing to ascend a rather steep looking climb. Chad chose a smaller nearby ice climb that had seen quite a bit of activity based on the packed down snow at the base of it.He instructed us to get our crampons attached to our boots while he prepared the climbing rope.To get the dynamic rope attached to a fix anchor at the top of the ice fall he’d need to free climb his way up while one of us belayed the rope out. Once he reached the top and secured the fixed anchor we could safely belay him down. Chad gave us another knot tying lesson before he started up. We buddy checked his double figure eight knot on his harness and he checked the ice belay device on my harness. Always ensuring that the carabiner is locked. He then asked me to demonstrate the proper technique for belaying the rope and braking it. His safe descent would be trusted to my attention to detail as the belayer. He decided all was well and waited for my “ on belay” command before starting up the ice. The ice was a NEI grade 3. The New England Ice grades run up to a high of grade 6 plus. Grade 3 is considered moderately difficult and would provide an excellent training location for Zane and I. Chad easily made the climb up to the top. Apparently there was already an adequate fixed anchoring point in place that was sufficient. Chad then hollered down to see if I was ready to “ weight” the rope before beginning his controlled descent. Weighting the rope allows for the stretch and is a necessary part of a safe descent. Chad made it to the bottom with no issues. Mission accomplished! Teamwork and trust are key in this sport. Our dynamic rope was in place and we were ready to begin the next portion of our training. All climbers on the ice face would always be on belay. Chad gave us instructions for climbing properly. Set the ice axes into the face. Tap,Tap to set crampons while engaging in a type of squat move. Then standing up while arching the back. He made it look easy!Our turn! Zane started first and attacked the ice face with the determination of an enthusiastic teenager!Chad had me on the belay rope and I literally held my son’s safety in my hands. Chad stayed close to me and gave Zane tips.Zane continued his ascent never falling and eventually reached a point where Chad instructed him to stop.It was a slow process and took some obvious strength to accomplish. Now the scary part! Weighting the rope! That moment where the climber puts it all on the line!Trusting the system! The equipment and his belayer! It’s a difficult moment! To stand and lean back as you weight the rope! It’s not a natural situation! We tend to want to clutch the wall not lean back into unknown air space! But it’s necessary! Zane did well and made a safe descent! Good so far! Now my turn! I charged the ice face like a fool. Wasting energy and burying my ice axes deeper than necessary.Mastering the squat crampon set was tricky. I wanted to lean towards the wall. Bad idea! It forces your crampons to pop out! I’d be forced to cling tightly to my ice axes as I lost my foot holds. I struggled my way up despite my ineptitude. I crawled over one shelf in desperation and stubbornness. But I made it to the stopping point!Now here’s where it got a little difficult! I was instructed to weight the rope. Lean back he says! Yeah right! I’m scared to do that! I try! Then a bad move on my part! I grab the rope despite the fact that I am holding a sharp ice axe in each hand! Stupid I found out! I lost my footing. Dropped down. I weighted the rope like a spinning top! Chad yelled up to me! Don’t do that again! Trust the system! I eventually made it down but not like he instructed. We laughed as I reached the bottom! Epic fail but still ok!Chad gave another demonstration. Zane ascended again and made it too the very top. A good descent for him again.He was learning fast!My turn. I did somewhat better. Still wasted a lot of energy but made it to the bulge just before the top. I hesitated. I thought about quitting the ascent as a sudden fear settled over me.Zane had made it up over so I decided that I needed to as well! Trust the system they say right?Here I go! Clawing and fighting my way up! Crawling and doing whatever I could to stick the face. I made it! But… oh no! I am way up and now must descend! Chad hollered up! Trust the system! Do not grab the rope! We have you! I must say it’s very difficult to lean back into space! But I suddenly felt that old reckless feeling that sometimes hasn’t ended well for me! I weighted the rope! The stretch was frightening. I tried to follow Chad’s commands. At the bottom relief! He said that I had done much better but still needed improvement. We got to telling stories and laughing again! Chad is a cool guy!A wealth of information and experience! I asked him many questions and he always had the answers. More lessons would follow. We learned how to set ice anchors.Use various slings. Worked on our knot tying. We took a quick break for lunch. High energy bars and beef jerky for us. Trail mix for him. We cooled off quickly and it began to snow. Chad moved us to a second ice face and our climbs resumed. We began to master the squat and totally trust the system. I learned to conquer my fears at the top and began to get closer to proper descents. Zane continued to do well but I could tell the exertion was taking it’s toll. I felt it as well! Zane and I both decided that we no longer wished to belay each other. We turned our trust over to Chad. On my two final descents I decided to swing around some. Very fun and exciting! Chad complemented my trust in the system! It had taken some nerve! We finished our day with a drill Chad decided we needed. He still felt that we didn’t trust or use our crampons properly. Easy to remedy! He forced us to climb using only one ice axe! That totally forced us to climb better! We needed to set our crampons properly or fail to ascend.He didn’t send us up as far. It was an invaluable lesson! One I left with for future reference. The day was over! The wind driven snow had increased. We were shot but pumped up with adrenaline! We had done it! Safely and leaving the ledges intact! Chad had done an excellent job! We said our thanks and told him we would return again! But we would need him to be our guide! There’s a certain fear inherent in ice climbing. It’s also got a certain thrill. That place where I feel strong and confident as the years have aged me to a certain point. I chose to try this unknown sport and bring my only son into it. I question my wisdom sometimes. Do I risk his future getting him involved in extreme sports? Or do I make him well rounded? We left the ice face with new skills and a greater appreciation of winter’s power. The ice is beautiful and enchanting in some dangerous attraction of unknown intensity.Where this relationship goes is an unknown. I know I will need to become stronger and more fit before our next ice climbing adventure. Perhaps that’s a plus! All I know is this… we will never be the same ever again. Nor will we drive through the beautiful Cascade Pass as the same individuals ever again. We left a part of our spirits there on those frozen faces that will disappear with the warm breath of spring winds. The ice will return in a magical transformation of Adirondack season. That is inevitable. The question is will we return? Time will tell and so will I! “Good climbing”!
Ice Age:Part 1
Mid February approaches here in northern New York and we are surrounded by ice. Frozen streams,rivers, swamps,ponds, and lakes.Driveways and parking lots. Icicles hanging from house eaves as the sun melts rooftop snow accumulations.Ice is powerful. Cracking concrete and road surfaces.It transforms shorelines as water levels change throughout the winter. It coats highways with an almost invisible layer sometimes that we call “black ice”. Dangerous and unpredictable for drivers. Residents of northern climes have learned to dread the occasional winter ice storms. Freezing rain wreaks havoc on trees and electric power grids.Residents here remember the major ice storm of 1998. It crippled this area for weeks. I also remember a less severe one in 1991 that caused a power outage for several days. It would seem that ice is a detrimental part of living in this area. True to an extent when it disrupts our daily routines. However the annual formation of winter ice can be an outdoor enthusiast’s source of joy! Ice fishing is a favorite pastime of ours. We venture out preferably once it reaches a thickness of 6 inches or greater. It’s a subject worthy of a future post! Winter ice also provides for some great hiking opportunities. Snowshoes,skis,or just plain walking. Traveling ice enables a person to access areas that prove difficult in the warmer months. Safety is imperative always!Along the rocky cliffs of the Beaver Creek gorge ice takes on a new meaning. Huge icicles and ice falls form as winter progresses each season. Beautiful in color and detail. Hiking to view them is an annual event. I never really thought much about climbing too high on them although we have donned spikes and captured some awesome photos under them! It wasn’t until December 2020 while on an Adirondack holiday with Jennifer that I would suddenly be inspired to even consider the sport of ice climbing!We were browsing a store in the Keene Valley called The Mountaineer when it happened. One section is dedicated to climbing gear. Photos of climbers decorate the walls above a wide selection of items that were foreign to me. I found the gear interesting and intriguing.We browsed our way up to the second floor where there were even more photos of happy climbers grinning with obvious pride of accomplishment! I suppose some would call it an epiphany. I suddenly was struck with an intense curiosity! What did it take to be a climber? Rock climbing never struck me as a hobby that I would pursue even though I love high places. But ice? Hmm…. what if? I asked a clerk about renting gear and how did an individual break into the sport of ice climbing?I learned that a guide could be hired for an introductory training session. I consulted Jennifer. A Xmas gift for Zane? For us to try together? I wondered if I was even fit enough or had the nerve to try it in the first place. I left with the information to enroll in a class in January if I decided to sign up. I wasn’t even sure if Zane was interested so later that evening I decided to flat out ask him. Yes, it spoiled the element of surprise but this was no ordinary adventure! He seemed receptive and interested so the next day I got us signed up for a January date. So began the process of booking a room and making preparations. It was settled to a degree. Xmas was past and our date was fast approaching when we decided to expand our adventure to include volunteer work working on the Saranac Lake Winter Carnival Ice Palace project. But nature is fickle sometimes. I was packing the car for our adventures when the call came in from The Mountaineer. Subzero temperatures were forecast forcing a cancellation. Unsafe and ill advised to ice climb. They were cancelling all weekend excursions for safety.I was directed to call a local guide service for a possible rebooking.It was at this moment that I was introduced to Adirondack Rock and River Guide. The owner and founder “Ed” took my call. In business since 1988 he had lots of questions about our expectations for an adventure. He recommended we book out a week and hire one of his guides to train us for our ice climbing outing. All equipment would be provided, training,and a custom climb would be tailored to ensure a safe trip.It was on again!Booked and on the calendar. Jennifer mentioned to me that Adirondack Rock and River also had lodging and other activities.But finding rooms on short notice is sometimes difficult during the busy Adirondack winter season. We settled for a motel in nearby Wilmington after traveling up Saturday afternoon. I wanted us fresh and ready Sunday morning for our big day! Zane loves getting away and spending time together for a night regardless of our destination. We enjoy our conversation time, meals, and hunkering down in a cozy, warm room. Sunday morning the temperature hovered around 0 degrees but the daytime temperature was forecast for about 20 degrees. We arrived at Adirondack Rock and River early to find Ed shoveling some snow around the walkways between the various buildings. He commented that we were way too early but invited us to tour the lodge that was unoccupied. He gave us some further instructions while we bantered back and forth for a time. We gathered some history on each other then he returned to his shoveling. I thought it was cool that he as the owner shoveled snow!To not describe the quiet beauty of the location would fail to properly tell the story of our day! The complex is located at the very end of Alstead Hill Road just outside of Keene, N.Y. A flat location with mountains surrounding it in all directions.The Jackrabbit Ski Trail connects to one of the parking sections. A popular destination of cross country skiers and hikers this trail network provides a long connecting route to several local villages. The complex consists of three structures and a couple wood shed type buildings. There’s the main house and the two separate lodges. The stone fireplace in the Climbers Lodge is easily the largest that I have ever seen!We were outside enjoying the scenery when our guide pulled in promptly at 8:30. He hopped out of his truck and introduced himself as Chad. He was not a huge fellow but super lean and strong looking. Obviously fit. I guessed his age at 30 something but later learned he was 47! I liked him immediately.His calm demeanor and casual questions about our expectations for the day quickly squashed my coffee fueled anxiety. A veteran ice climber of 20 plus years he assured us we would enjoy the day. We headed into the lower level of the Guide’s lodge to be fitted for gear, sign paperwork, and have our personal gear inspected. Pictures of ice and rock climbers adorn the walls with an assortment of antique climbing gear filling in the gaps. Chad continued his questions. “ Do you want to spend 2 hours of your day in here learning about equipment or get out there and learn at the base of the ice falls?” He asked. He seemed pleased when we said let’s get right to it! I honestly told him we weren’t even sure we could do it or even wish to return. So began our formal education of being safely fitted with equipment.New words and terms to learn. It was exciting and interesting!Zane asked me if I was nervous when Chad left the room to grab some gear. “ Yes! I am! You?” I replied! He admitted he was nervous too! I simply stated that we needed to listen and follow all the instructions. Chad returned and the fitting began. Step one: ice climbing boots. Double type recommended for warmth. Some ice climbers prefer single boots but sacrifice some warmth for mobility. Step two: crampons. Fitted and adjusted to boot size. Sharp spikes front and bottom. Step three: helmets. Similar to a hard hat but with a lower profile. Step four: VIP! a harness. Proper fit is crucial!Chad took extra time with this step with good reason we’d later learn. Step five : an ice belay on a locking carabiner. Then the ropes used for climbing. Also crucial! We’d rely on one primarily. Color coded and labeled,we’d learn to recognize it as a “dynamic” rope. It’s composition allows a 7% stretch. So for a 100 ft extension it will stretch 7 ft! A safety consideration on the ice face. Super strong and inspected each time it’s used. We also took a “static line” rope. No stretch and used as a special purpose backup. Chad also carried a variety of carabiners, slings, and items that we couldn’t even identify at that moment. Ice climbing is considered an “extreme” sport. Dangerous if not equipped properly. Dangerous if attempting without proper training. Hiring a licensed guide is the best approach. We purchased a package deal with equipment provided as well as the guide.SAFETY,SAFETY,SAFETY!!! I brought us there for fun not a tragic experience!Sure there’s some risk but minimal when all risks are factored as possibilities. Next a lesson in proper knots and tying them. A little intimidating at first but Chad gave us “ crutches” to help us remember them!We learned the “figure 8 and double figure 8”. All important and always buddy checked! Our crash course lasted about an hour and Chad deemed us fitted and ready to roll! I will end part 1 here! The actual climbing adventure deserves its own story now that you know the basics! Did you learn anything?🤔
The Sum of All Totals
Winter weather still continues to drag its feet so yesterday we decided to take advantage of the lack of snow and grab a mini adventure. I asked Zane if he was interested in exploring the Eastern side of the Beaver Creek gorge near our farm.It’s 3664 acres of state land provide some rugged terrain to explore. There’s little of that acreage that I haven’t explored in the last 4 decades at some point. It’s always been a wonderful place to observe nature. A mix of forest,bare rock outcroppings,and extensive wetlands. Numerous beaver ponds along the actual creek channel and along the small watersheds that feed it. There’s large ledges and deep valleys to cross. It’s difficult to cross the main creek if not impossible in the months other than winter. Occasionally there’s a beaver dam that spans the gorge but those are usually not readily available. We typically explore the Eastern side when “ice walking” becomes available. It’s about timing unless we decide on a snowshoe trek. That’s rarely been the case in recent years. I gauge the weather conditions and make a spontaneous decision to hike it on foot when snow doesn’t hinder our distance.Yesterday I wasn’t sure the main creek had adequate ice thickness to safely hike the wetlands so we took an overland route that kept us on solid ground. We soon found ourselves fighting thick patches of invasive wild honeysuckle. Mixed with “whip brush” and the riddled stands of Scotch pine the state planted over 50 years ago. The Scotch pine never did well as the rocky ridges and fallen rock piles supported numerous porcupines.They developed a fondness for the planted groves and girdled them until they wiped out most of the transplants. The few surviving pines have an alien appearance. Short and stunted they bear the scars left by the porcupines who still continue to further their demise.I mentioned to Zane that it’s too bad they don’t relish the invasives!That sure would make things better for those fighting their way through the brush. Ultimately the brush would prompt us to take to the ice and marshy sections in the lower sections below the ridges where beaver had altered the landscape.The ice is still tricky and it takes some maneuvering to dodge the thin spots.These beaver ponds didn’t exist when I was a boy but the beaver populations have continued to expand since then. They found their way into every trickle and created some new sections of wetland. It’s a cycle that rotates. They move in and create a pond sometimes making it larger each year. Eventually they diminish the availability of feed and move to a new location.The dams eventually rot in disrepair and the water drops. The open area of the pond ( known as a beaver meadow) begins to revert back to a forest or grassland. We crossed a number of active and dead beaver ponds. It was much better walking on the sections of creek and pond ice. Lesson number two of the day for Zane!Lesson one was deciding whether the ice would support us at all. It’s a decision an “ice walker” must weigh heavily or risk a soaking.We managed to stay dry and eventually would be able to get up into some older open growth forest where walking was better. Our destination was an area well known to me since a boy. The Black Ash Swamp.We hit a beaver pond above it first. Also well known to me,I was pleased to notice that it was occupied. The ice was well formed so I suggested to Zane we wear our micro spikes as I intended to keep us on the ice as long as possible. The pond we crossed joined the upper end of our destination just beyond a small overflow. There it was! The Black Ash Swamp.It’s an area that has seen a huge transformation since I was a boy.It’s former brush and the trees that bore its name gone now. Only a few small stumps protrude through the ice. It reassembles a small,shallow lake these days. A product of the beaver and their work of decades.They had first moved into the swamp in the seventies and began flooding the forest.The higher water eventually killed even the moisture resistant black ash trees.The beaver no doubt cut many of them also for their tasty bark.For many years the dead trees stood like skeletons.Gray and bark shed I had walked the ice between them witnessing the transition over a period of years. Rot and wind have broken them down now. I stood on the edge of the former swamp forest and let the memories travel over those years. My father had brought me here when a large stand of hemlocks graced the the higher ground above the swamp. There was a light layer of powder snow that cold,cloudy winter day. We’d come to the swamp for a reason that day!To run our beagle/basset hounds on snowshoe rabbit. The cottontail rabbits of our pasture land had a habit of diving into woodchuck holes and cutting the dogs short of a worthy pursuit. Not so with the large, bounding snowshoe rabbit! They stay afield and easily avoid the much slower hounds. The dogs Snoopy and Hushpuppy jumped a snowshoe in the edge of the swamp that day and gave chase with excited bellows! They sped off after their quarry and would soon get some distance from us. I was the eager boy who wished to run after them! “Stop”We’ll sit here in the hemlocks” my father would quietly say. “But the dogs are getting away!” I replied. “Sit still and wait!Watch closely and you will learn something of the snowshoe rabbit” my father replied.It was cold and I had no wish to sit but did as I was instructed. Glad to have my warm wool pants and wool mittens inside my leather choppers mitts. The collar of my wool hunting jacket hand stitched with a band of cotton flannel by my grandmother’s loving hands.She knew I hated the wool touching my neck so had done it for me.The cold air stung my face and I listened to the distance dogs. Their sounds suddenly seemed closer and they began to return our way. Still on a hot track and moving quickly! I was busy trying to spot the dogs when my father pointed silently. Far ahead of the hounds the ghostly, white snowshoe rabbit was moving directly towards our position. My observations were cut short as my fathers 12 gauge fired once from his position. I was instructed to retrieve the rabbit from the ground but wait for the dogs. They reached me soon after and we let them sniff the rabbit they had brought to us. A tasty meal back home awaited us with scraps and fur for the dogs. I had learned a valuable lesson! The jumped snowshoe will circle and retrace his steps. The hunter must wait and watch. We would only take the one rabbit that day. It was enough and we had the long walk back to the truck. Barn chores and a wood furnace to stoke. As I stood on the edge of the swamp yesterday I pondered the passage of time. My father gone but my own son beside me. The hounds long buried in a special location on the farm. Carefully laid to rest in graves I dug after carrying them some distance in my arms. I no longer have hounds or hunt rabbits. But I still wander the lands of my youth. I show my son my special places and tell the tales. I watch the forests and wetlands change in the seasons of nature. The spirit energy finds me there with positive blessings. Not lost for it is eternal. The years add quicker and I realize that someday I will circle back to where I started my chase of years. To retrace my steps and serve a higher purpose perhaps. If time is the rabbit then I am the hound. Such thoughts are best kept for winter nights long after dark. It was time to keep exploring. There was too much to be found in the moment yesterday to stand still for long. There were things to teach and lessons to be learned. Miles to walk with an ice walkers stride. The distance traveled in must be traveled out.