Tag Archives: Adventures

More Days Like These.

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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

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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

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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 Last Day

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The simple words of my title likely mean different things to different people. Perhaps it’s the last day to get a project completed. Or the deadline for a bill or payment. The last day of school. ( something I always enjoyed!)Or maybe it’s the last work day of the week for you! Friday for many folks who have weekend plans. It could even be that last day before you head off on a vacation. There’s a certain energy that follows that last day before a vacation that only working people truly appreciate. On a more somber note maybe it’s the last day for you to take a medication. Or your last day of chemo treatment. I find myself needing to mention that today. Health is on my mind. Not mine. But that of people I know. Those hit hard by health issues. I could head down a somewhat different path than I originally intended quite honestly. It’s a rather troubling fact of life and of the end of it.I acknowledge the struggles so many face and honor your courage here on my page.This week Tuesday was a last day for me. The end of living in the Adirondacks on campgrounds since July 10th. I remained the sole occupant of our campsite. Everyone else had gone home for one reason or another.Lucky for me I still had the dogs Stella and Gracie close by to keep me company! Jennifer had left just that morning and it was very strange being the only one there. I continued packing up the miscellaneous items that were no longer needed to save time on Wednesday morning as I needed to leave the site by 10am. The day had started calm and somewhat sunny but as noon approached the sky began to darken with heavy clouds. A damp chill settled in and a message from Jennifer mentioned rain was inevitable by afternoon. Phone service is unreliable and unpredictable in this part of the Adirondack park so I was lucky it got through to me at all! I found my mood getting as dark as the slowly approaching clouds. My last day and it was going to rain yet again! I had planned on an exploratory paddle into Floodwood Pond with the dogs. My choices were before me and a decision needed to be made. I considered sitting in the Airstream and drafting a blog post. Always a decent use of time but not when I had gotten interested in an adventure first. Leaving was an option also. I thought about packing up everything and hooking onto the coach. I’d being using my time productively I figured. The unknown provided the answer to the decision in the end. The fact that I had no clue how much it was going to rain or how long even. Adirondack weather has been fickle this summer. But it was the greatest unknown that would truly set me in motion. Floodwood Pond. Zane and I had explored a tiny piece of it just a week ago on a loop paddle. Jennifer and I had explored the upper part of it months ago. The sections that were still new to me held a certain draw. Sure I had looked at a map! But not extensively. I prefer to understudy as opposed to the opposite. It keeps things more exciting for us and adds to the sense of adventure. Not studying a map had led us to Rock Pond days earlier. I was pretty sure we were headed to Floodwood Pond that afternoon as we fought our way up a narrow waterway filled with beaver dams and abundant aquatic plants choking the passage. I forced us to retreat backwards after we found no passage through eventually. We had struggled up a chilly,narrow channel after leaving a pond we knew couldn’t be Floodwood. Our voyage ceased at an ancient beaver pond with no channel leading anywhere. It was breathtakingly remote and wild. Fresh and totally absent of human activity. Quietly sitting at the base of a large ridge in a rounded swampy basin of sorts. Our second dead end that afternoon where the daylight was fading along with our strength. We fought our way back out,paddled back to camp, and later studied our map. We had paddled to Rock Pond we learned! Good for a laugh at that point as we headed to the shower house to clean up and shed our muddy, soaked clothing. Perhaps it sounds a little reckless but traveling upstream on water leaves little chance of getting lost when returning the same direction as you come in. So maps are optional many times. Tuesday afternoon would find me enthralled with the prospect of the unknown. I quickly packed some drinks, a spare sweatshirt, fire making devices, and stuffed everything into a waterproof dry sack. I tossed in a small handsaw as well. It began to seriously rain as I prepared to launch the canoe. No thunder or lightning so I loaded the dogs and we left the campsite behind us. The rain intensified and we passed two kayakers returning to their campsites. The pond was quiet with most campsites devoid of human activity. Their boats and kayaks beached securely as they hunkered down in tents and campers. Some had their fires burning near tarp shelters and the smoke hung just above the trees. A faint,foggy mist hovered on the surface of the pond as large rain drops sent out thousands of tiny ripples. I felt warm and cozy inside my raincoat! Strong and confident. Ready for the probe into new waters. The temperature had dropped some but I gauged it well within safety margins. I knew better than to underestimate an Adirondack July but felt that I was well equipped. I ran the small outlet that leads from Rollins Pond into Floodwood Pond as it was running high from all the recent rain. Much easier than the canoe carry and faster! Not to mention fun! The dogs hunkered down oblivious to the steadily pouring rain. As I reached the main body of Floodwood Pond I began to feel a slight discomfort as my rain jacket began to soak through finally. A mixture of sweat and water running off my hair. I had thrown my hood back for better visibility some time earlier. There was smoke rising from several primitive campsites on Floodwood Pond and the scents reached me out on the water. The sweet, pitchy smell of burning evergreen mixed with the more pungent smell of damp hardwoods. The distinctive scent of burning birch suddenly made me think of the warmth next to those fires! There are several privately owned camps along the shores of the pond and one had woodsmoke billowing from a chimney. The occupants dry and comfortable inside no doubt waiting for the weather to break. The rain fell steady and the temperature continued to drop. My discomfort grew somewhat but I pressed on into sections of the pond that were new to me. I overtook a couple of older gentleman fishing from a canoe. Clad in full rain suits and as determined as me to salvage their day.We exchanged greetings and laughed about the weather. I found an inlet dumping into the pond and headed up to explore. Beaver dams forced me to get out and drag the canoe forward. Gracie jumped out of the canoe and waded along with me. She was forced to swim in the deeper sections. Stella stayed calm never once jumping out. The inlet narrowed dramatically and I decided to turn back since I was soaked. It was really starting to cool down. I donned my dry sweatshirt and put my soggy rain jacket back on over it. Definitely time to return I decided as the Icewalker’s Motto echoed in my chilly head: the distance traveled in must be traveled out. My own words that I never forget. Summer is a much safer time of year to explore but it’s still best not to ignore a chilled body! We quickly paddled back to the outlet creek of Rollins Pond but first I stopped to gather some resin wood from an old stump. It would be handy later for my evening fire. We skipped the canoe carry again and I pushed the canoe up the creek against the current in the still pouring rain. I gathered a few awesome beaver sticks that had washed up on the sandy banks from a high water event. We found Rollins Pond empty of any watercraft. The dogs and I had become the only paddlers. Now very wet and chilled yet happy in the moment. We reached our beach and took shelter immediately after I unloaded the firewood. I was quite cold by this time so I ditched my wet clothing and turned on the furnace in the Airstream. The heat was wonderful! The rain slowed some and with dry clothing in place I kindled the fire with the aid of some dry birch bark. The somewhat wet resin wood did the trick and my fire surged with fragrant abundance. I had made the most of my last day! Not the most comfortable but certainly fun in its challenge! The rain returned eventually and forced me inside where I prepared a warm meal as the rain pounded the metal rooftop of the coach. A staticky radio played some old eighties music and I reflected on my time living in the Adirondacks this summer. I remembered the many trips when we had no camper. Our time in the Canadian bush cabins next to a wood stove. We lived with savage intent. Tarps and leaky tents at times. Emerging to face cold and uncomfortable days. We made it happen and left with a greater appreciation of nature in the end. So many stories and memories! MOONTABS!The older me loves the comforts of the camper. But the future will find me far from it. Wet and cold. Embracing the hardship for all it has ever meant and all it still can mean.For adventure is addictive and intoxicating in ways not everyone can understand. I hope it never leaves me. This powerful draw of the unknown destination and the need to challenge myself. I have a willing partner in Zane! Jennifer in a similar capacity. It won’t be easy or always cozy. That’s ok. The inner core burns as hot as resin wood. Bright and fragrant in the realms of the five senses where the sixth sense waits to surround us with invisible spirit energy. To that we run. In nature we live our finest days and become our truest selves. It is the unfinished work of a lifetime this endless wander of discovery.

The Subtle Art Of Camp Life

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July presses forward with somewhat unseasonal weather here in the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York. The rains have dominated the forecast and pound the area with incessant,unrelenting frequency. Our soggy debut camping trip of six days at the end of June left us more experienced with boondocking in the Airstream but found us regrouping with a more weather focused preparation. We purchased additional tarps and light tethering ropes. We retired the screen house in favor of a larger steel framed garage sale tent. We only had six days before leaving our staging area in Jennifer’s yard and heading back up to the Adirondacks for our next trip. The forecast was anything but promising but we decided that canceling was not an option. Jennifer had toiled hard to secure the dates through a cancellation website. Giving up wasn’t an option for us at any rate. We headed out on a sunny Saturday afternoon. The truck fully loaded with gear, a kayak, and canoe pulling the Airstream. Jennifer’s car also fully loaded with gear. Sporting a canoe on top and two dogs in the back. We were a party of four. Jennifer,Zane,Garrett (Jennifer’s nephew), and myself.The dogs Stella and Greaser. Coolers,drinks, and all sorts of dry goods. A fully loaded refrigerator and freezer in the coach. The cupboards and drawers packed in advance. Jennifer is a fabulous planner and organizer. She’s set up the travel coach for efficiency and order.It remained up to us to learn the locations of the different things we’d need as the days unfolded. Our camping locations are state parks without full hook ups so there’s a little extra planning on my end of things. We need the generator and extra gas for it. I use a plastic siphon to gas up my generator. It’s clean and efficient.Better than a funnel I feel.We checked in at our campground then headed to our site after a quick stop to fill the 40 gallon water tank of our coach. I prefer to travel with minimal fresh water on board. At 7 pounds plus per gallon it adds a lot of weight to the trailer.Next came my least favorite part! Backing the trailer into the campsite! We like camping in forested parks so the abundance of trees makes for tricky parking at times. It’s a group effort with spotters on both sides. It’s always a relief once I get it close! We then work together to get it level side to side and front to back. We employ a variety of plastic ramp pieces and pieces of lumber. It gets easier with experience! Front to back is never a problem with the electric tongue jack doing all the work! We begin to work separately after that as I finish the final coach setup. The camp takes shape fairly quickly once the large tent site is chosen. It takes a couple hours of brisk activity to get everything in order in a manner that flows. The boys settle into their space after blowing up air mattresses and rolling out sleeping bags. Our bedroom area is set up permanently at this point so that saves us time! The cooking/dining tent is a vital part of our camp. It cuts down on traffic in and out of the coach. We also have learned to set up an outdoor dishwashing station behind the coach. I mentioned much of this in a recent post but there’s a direction of thought here that begs reflection. It’s that point early in the trip where you settle into a sort of informal daily routine. We spend most of the day outside if the weather is favorable. Cooking and dining both. Evenings find us close to the campfire talking about the adventures of the day. We don’t always do everything as a group. It just depends on the activities that are chosen for any given day. I suppose it’s the use of my time each day that takes me into a pensive forest of thought. I very quickly adapt into a life of late evenings and late mornings. I find myself sleeping in longer. Eight hours in bed sometimes. Very different than the four to five hours of sleeping each night during my working years. I find myself feeling as if I am wasting time or missing out.Perhaps I am still too driven to truly relax. After all time can be a nemesis for me as you may know if you follow my stories. I’m trying to overcome these strange thoughts but it’s going to take some time it appears. A typical morning has certain tasks that must be performed. Perked coffee the first order of business. Much more time consuming than a Keurig but very tasty! Generators can’t be started prior to 9am. The boys sleep late so breakfast becomes a daily brunch. Today we didn’t eat until almost noon! The morning walk to the toilet and drive to the shower house. Our daily activities begin after 1pm many days. Rarely before 11am. Sometimes brunch is early with no cooking at all. Today is day thirteen here for me. We were supposed to go home after six days but Jennifer picked up some cancellations that tied two separate trips together. We actually moved to an adjacent site for one night last Friday. Talk about tear down and set up! We didn’t need to set up the tents at least! Then the kicker! The site we vacated remained empty that night! The whole reservation system is a mess in my opinion! Reserve America? How about we focus on New York State? But that takes us down the dark trail of negativity so let’s get back on track! When I stop and take a solid inventory of my days here where exactly did my time get spent? Most definitely on camp chores. The constant rain events keep us scrambling to dry towels and gear. We had a couple of somewhat destructive rain and wind events. The one two nights ago nearly destroyed our cooking tent.It hit suddenly and fiercely with little warning. It had been a rather lovely day. Warm and humid with a mix of sun and clouds. Zane and I had spent several hours paddling what’s known as the Floodwood Loop. Very fun with two short canoe carries. We had just gone to the shower house to clean up when the storm hit. Jennifer and Garrett rescued the tent and a bunch of our gear. We returned to help salvage the cooking tent and reset it. The boys sleeping tent and large tarp above weathered the storm like nothing happened! Regardless those types of storm events keep us busy! Zane and I have spent quite a bit of time paddling and hiking during the time he’s been here. It’s been in and out some for my three companions here with the endless details back home that can’t be avoided. I’ve pretty much put life back in the valley on hold these last thirteen days. One thing that takes time here is getting to town to get decent cell phone and internet service. We basically need to drive into Tupper Lake to do that most days. We double down picking up necessities like milk and ice. Firewood if we run low. It gives us a little diversity at times. Zane and I often need to drive to reach our hiking trailheads so we do our business on the way. Our most recent hike was up Catamount Mountain. It turned into quite the ordeal when we got separated from the dog on a tough rock scramble! It pretty much finished our day by the time we bushwhacked our way back out after losing the trail while retrieving Gracie. We learned a valuable lesson of teamwork and the importance of not getting separated! We didn’t return until after 7pm and a thunderstorm drove us into the coach. It was one of those nights where we were glad to have it’s kitchen and sleeping amenities! I think it may take some post camp life living to truly reflect on our time spent here. The days run together here and time passes much too fast. I need to run home for a few days before returning for the last three days of our reservation on this site.Today a north born wind chills me when the sun hides behind a cloud for a moment. The clothesline sways and our items finally dry! All is well and the afternoon awaits our decision of how best to spent the remainder of our day. Evening will require the second meal of the day to be crafted. Dishes and the purring generator recharging the batteries. A carefully laid fire if the rains don’t return. Camp life as I have never known it continues for the moment. How best to describe it and honor those moments remains the writer’s challenge. For the hours become rambling and difficult to follow at times in their silent passage. I don’t watch the clock here. I watch the sky and track the movement of the sun if we’re lucky enough to view it. Life flows with the daylight and the darkness. And if I sleep long and deep perhaps I need it. Leaving the race has been a challenge. Not to worry. I always seem to find my way back onto the track for a time. The home on wheels can’t stay here forever nor can we. The energy lives in the forward motion. This life that has become MOONTABS In Motion.Places of outdoor beauty where loons cry and waves gently lap on sandy shores. I try to find my balance here as these summer days tick past. I pull out my map and gaze upon the many unknown waterways that wait for us to explore them. And fondly remember those we know now. The dashes of untraveled trails on a map call with an urgency at times. Perhaps the drive represents more than I can understand at this moment in time. I must enter the now and count my small blessings. To question is to learn new answers. To follow the heart brings passion and love into the light. It is enough this simple existence.The spirit energy will fuel the journey.The stories will follow.

The Happy Campers

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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!

MOONTABS In Motion

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I love creating words and phrases! Titles especially! One of the benefits of writing a personal blog is not needing to hand my work over to a supervisor for permission to post! One of my long term goals for the blog is simplicity. I desire to keep my work honest and raw. I’ve touched on this before. I dislike editing my own entries quite honestly. I don’t really worry about criticism of my misuse of the English language and sentence structure. If I bring you something edited to the point of being artificial then I lose something in the process. This too has been mentioned. It’s that sense of living in the “now” that I try to capture and get launched in a post. Quite honestly I feel some of my best work dwells in some of my short Facebook posts as we live our day to day lives. My “A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words” posts have been well received. It’s shortened to “APIWATW” if you happen to run across it. The title of today’s post is a phrase that I recently created to describe a future lifestyle choice I hope we can embrace shortly. If you’re following our story then you know about our recent purchase of an Airstream travel coach and pickup truck. These will be taking the place of a permanent home eventually for an unknown amount of time. I haven’t worked out all the details as we get accustomed to the proposed transition. But such answers will often appear to me suddenly while driving. The phrase MOONTABS In Motion occurred to me suddenly one day while driving around wiping out a myriad of small details. There’s a hazy destination in the term that I have yet to fully understand. Call it a feeling of gut instinct. It’s connected to nature and migration. Perhaps it’s just my desire to travel and explore. The imaginative side of me believes different. As does the romantic adventurer side. If you’ve ever read my Facebook profile then you know my simple quote: The answers to all questions in nature can be found. Never to have asked them, uncertain future bound. My true spirit energy is connected to the natural world. It’s where my stories originate most of the time and always have mainly. Sometimes writing can take a turn down pensive and pragmatic pathways that I risk getting lost on myself at times. I consider this a continuing introduction. MOONTABS In Motion is going to take a little work to fine tune. It’s travel. Adventure.The mundane days of trying to get it right and still stay positive. It’s about the unexpected and the unknown that hits you right between the eyes sometimes. It’s about getting knocked down and staggering back up. It’s about giving and sharing. Taking the time to say I can wait for a minute. I need to help someone today. I still have tomorrow.Motion is the key word. As in forward. That place you always wanted to head off for but just couldn’t for some reason. I don’t expect words will capture what I hope this simple term brings to life. It will express itself in deeds. Ones that say I want to make a difference. Not just for myself but for many. I recently had a meet and greet with Patrick Bourcy. He’s the creator of the Facebook group Just Go Outside. We shared a lot that day talking for several hours. It was nice to know that others shared the same hopes that I did when I began to put my ideas in motion. If you’re not familiar with Just Go Outside I think you’ll like it’s positive energy! I may be posting there more frequently soon in a somewhat different capacity. There’s a strength in a group of positive individuals that can truly make a difference to someone who might be struggling. Most of us have struggled at some point in our lives in some capacity. Some struggle everyday. MOONTABS is where I chose to count my blessings. To honor the simple gifts of nature and what they mean to me. It’s a journey underway. Decades in the making. It’s recognizing when ordinary is extraordinary. I hope you find yourself in the journey. You have your own MOONTABS. “Memories Once Ours Never To Be Stolen”.

The Debut

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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?

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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

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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.