History is an important part of adventure for us! There’s nothing like stumbling upon old foundations, buildings, and other human impacts that nature is slowly healing and covering with vegetation. Some areas however have been changed forever by large and costly human endeavors. At a glance these locations might never catch my attention at first glance. But everything changes when I suddenly find myself in one of those locations and realize something much larger once occurred there. I can and will explain but first I must lay some groundwork. It’s January 11th 2022 and I have flown to Florida to visit a friend. I escaped northern New York just ahead of a bitter cold front that has temperatures well below zero. I have settled into a fully functional Airbnb in the Dunnellon area and have a rental car at my disposal. I arrived here late Sunday and spent the day yesterday catching up with my good friend Norm. He once was a neighbor of mine at Black Lake where he and his wife Ellen owned a summer cottage below my former home we called Hill House. We became friends and we fished together occasionally out on the lake in his pontoon boat. He also loved to hunt so I introduced him to our farm property where he could roam at his discretion anytime he wished. He became hopelessly addicted to our farm crafted maple syrup at some point! He once asked me what I put into the stuff! My answer was simple and honest: energy and love of tradition. To craft the finest tasting maple syrup and be proud when people noticed! Norm became a steady customer and would always stockpile his supply of maple syrup before heading south each autumn. Time passed. Years that sped by with season and task. Norm and Ellen decided it was time to sell their lake property and would only be visiting upstate New York on occasion. We talked on the phone and I continued to get his syrup to him through a courier type system when necessary or through the mail. I missed my friend and our time together. Norm is 24 years older than me and I had confided in him when we fished together as the sun would set on a tough day for me. I trusted his advice and wise consul. I believe I thought of him as someone who was much like my father. Older and someone to be trusted for advice. I never told him that though. I think I will before I return home. Some things shouldn’t wait I have learned. At the time however it wasn’t necessary in the givens of common bonds. Some history to note. Norm and Ellen had been and were travelers. Wanderers.Full time Rver’s for over a decade. Adventure lovers and nature enthusiasts.In their stories I could feel a kindred spirit.Wow! I fear that I begin to stray far from the original story! Suffice it to say that Norm and Ellen invited us to come to Florida to visit them at their place on Lake Rousseau. Circumstances kept us away until I finally decided enough was enough in 2021. I won’t go into lengthy details of how those plans changed or how it finally occurred. I am here now and writing in the moment. Yesterday after Norm and I had some breakfast together we headed out onto Lake Rousseau for some fishing. I was immediately interested and intrigued by the lake itself. Channel markers everywhere amid dead tree stubs that rose above the water with a stately perseverance. Below the surface algae covered stumps were abundant and needed to be avoided. My curiosity perked and I began to grill Norm with questions. What had happened here and why? What was this lake all about? Man made reservoirs are nothing new to me most certainly. But this one in this location begged further investigation. And just like that history unfolded and opened up the doors for a much larger story! A place of history that I had never knew existed. Enter the story of the cross Florida barge canal. Lake Rousseau had been created in the early 1900s to create power for industrial purposes. The Great Depression would create a larger vision that actually was put into motion. The cross Florida barge canal was begun and never completed. It was a potential environmental disaster that was averted if the facts are correct. It’s a piece of history that I would have never known if not for my friend. I have visited Florida many times over the years. I came for sun and warmth. A break from the north country at times. I know the traffic packed highways await me as I become a part of the problem each time I visit.History was never a motive for visiting but now it will draw me back again. Norm and I discussed the need to keep the mind active and alive today.Those things we do to aid in that capacity. History is the perfect place to keep the mind in motion. What can I learn tomorrow? What did I learn today? I learned that we as humans often don’t truly make the best decisions. But the habitat of Lake Rousseau has become a place of refuge. For birds and other wildlife. It controls flooding and more. It is a marvel of human engineering and worthy of praise. It could have played out much differently but it didn’t.One thing is most certain. It is of a very human and personal nature. Don’t wait to visit a friend. Tomorrow is uncertain. Today was secured and now a memory to cherish forever. MOONTABS! They’re as simple as it gets! Wherever you find yourself!When you enter the realm of history and reality it can offer a new place of spirit energy. We can’t live in the past but must acknowledge it sometimes. It has shaped the world around us. It as shaped us.✍️
Tag Archives: Spirit Energy
November Speaks (Where October Left Off)
Time has flown and my writing has taken the backseat recently. Actually it’s totally missed the car ride. Life hasn’t stopped most certainly even if my creativity sometimes remains furtive. I have managed a small amount of sharing on my Facebook groups even if I don’t find my way here. It’s not that my days have lacked adventure or travel. The Adirondacks have been like home to me these past few months as my 14 week work tour continued last week. We spent some quality time camping prior to my work assignment. Gone are the weeks of camping out of the Airstream that I enjoyed until almost the end of October. My last week of boondock camping at Fish Creek State Campground just before they closed proved to be quite the adventure! No hookups there.Rainy weather and cool nights would tax my batteries despite the addition of a portable Zamp solar charger system. I ran the furnace after returning from work while the generator was running before crawling under my thick stack of blankets each evening. The campground had made the decision to close the shower house early this season. No problem I decided. I had my fresh water tank full, a propane water heater, and a nice shower of my own in the Airstreams! Perfect right? Yes at first! Then my circuit board failed on the water heater and the hot water ceased. I troubleshot it in the dark with a flashlight to no avail. Too bad they didn’t still use the old style propane hot water heaters with a basic pilot light that you could hand light easily. No board means no hot water. But being stubborn (not to mention in need of a shower ) I did what any lover of a clean body would have done. I began heating pans of hot water on my propane stove. I had plenty of propane and plenty of water. I had considered for a nanosecond bathing in the lake itself! But after a day spent working outdoors in the cold rain that was not really a pleasant option.The next trick would involve bringing a dishpan into the shower itself. I filled it with a mix of hot and cold water to begin the shower experience. I won’t go into great detail of the entire process but let’s simply say it was mission accomplished if not mission supreme! I followed this procedure for a couple days then bide the camping season farewell. The Airstream has sat vacant for several weeks now at Jennifer’s.As for its departure south that is a rather obscure subject for the moment. Some plans had to altered while others were still being developed. Things can be quickly set in motion when your home is on wheels. It’s winterized at the moment. The nighttime temperatures continue to plummet and we decided it the safest course of action. The past few weeks have found me living in rentals in Saranac Lake. One has become my favorite after I discovered it last October. The owners have taken the time to make the space a cozy, warm retreat. They are friendly and welcoming as hosts! I consider myself fortunate to have found them. The Olympic Center Revitalization Project inches forward with substantial progress having been made since August. My time working there almost finished as the critical manpower shortage winds down into its final days. It’s been a blur of work, travel to the valley for weekends, and back up for the next week. I have watched the transition of autumn from the moment it began in the Adirondacks. The St. Lawrence valley autumn has lagged slightly behind and it’s been fun observing the differences. I had one memorable hike about mid -October when I decided to take on Cascade Mountain after work one evening. I hit the trailhead at 6:16 pm chasing the sunset after a beautiful warm day on the project. Darkness would overtake me before I could summit however. The views were still remarkable and I stood there gazing off to the horizons of flickering lights in the distance. It took me much longer to descend the mountain than I intended. Lucky for me Jennifer called and chatted me down! I reached the car close to 8:45 pm. What a hike! Hiking adventures have been replaced by farm tasks recently. A wood order that needs to be filled. Hay to store away for our two remaining horses. Many different tasks present themselves as winter approaches. It’s best not to get caught short I have learned even if I struggle to get it together! We cruise the farm woods searching for firewood and sugar wood trees sometimes. There is still an over abundance of dead maple to be found although some of it has begun to move past its prime. Time is bringing change to our devastated forest as the upper canopies continue to fall. We have made some inroads of harvest into some sections while others remain untouched. It’s been a rather disturbing cycle to witness since 2017. The dual deadly tap of tent caterpillars and drought of 2016. The subsequent die off has been far reaching across the high ridges of the farm. We hope to begin some forest cleanup attempts in the time before us. Time flies and progress comes slowly at times but nature throws us some pretty stiff challenges from time to time. Ice storms.Insects. Invasive species. The future of the farm landscape remains unclear and hazy. We have a basic plan and hope to further our stewardship efforts moving forward. So that’s about it really. Work and commutes. Packing bags and moving around each week. Travel back and forth. Balancing time with Zane and Jennifer on the weekends when home. The shortening daylight throws a twist into everything. As much a part of autumn as the falling leaves themselves. All this I chose I must admit when I question my trajectory some days. This is a temporary path I hike. The objectives begin to be completed. Time can’t run backwards nor can the courses of action that decisions created. It’s strange the energy that drives those decisions. And the energy that steers the feet back to the farm property in the valley. For some tasks can’t be postponed indefinitely. Winter changes everything. A sugar season must be prepared for with no further delay.New goals take the stage and there’s still time to fulfill them. That becomes the new focus. November speaks and I listen closely. It’s a familiar song. The northern breeze in the trees of the farm property. A time to enjoy a simple lunch next to the farm cabin wood stove. A time to enjoy a few minutes of silence. A time to reflect and a time to reconnect. There is a calming peace in the simple accomplishments of farm tasks preparing for winter. It’s an adventure of a different sort. A destination where you travel back to simple roots. A familiar feeling in an old place. It’s a new autumn in a year well underway now. Many things have changed and many things have not. It’s a powerful place to stand and count small blessings. Spirit energy is ever present on the rocky turf of these Macomb hills.
The Transition
Wow! Week 7 here in the Adirondacks of upstate N.Y. as my work adventure continues since August 9th.Tonight camped out here at Little Wolf Campground in Tupper Lake. It’s had unexpected bonuses! The sunsets here are unbelievable! I never expected that I would like it so much! I initially thought this place was too small and crowded. But in September it’s quieter I think. Pretty busy on the weekends it seems. When I return on Sunday nights the Happy Campers are still in full swing. It’s a party place for a certain group it appears. No worries here as I spend most of my weekend in the valley. No surprise that I will exit the ADK park tomorrow night after work. Always details that need my attention. It’s my time to grab Zane and spend some quality time with him. As for the transition it’s underway. Today the first day of fall ushers in a new season here and in the valley. The leaves are changing fast with each passing day. Thus the transition. Less daylight greets me on the morning commute.32 miles that I actually enjoy driving each end of the day.The sun rises through the trees and over the mountains with a weather determined predictability.It usually seals the deal for me on most mornings. It’s so very different than the flatter lands of the St. Lawrence valley. I watch for deer and truly hope to see a moose sometime. As for the job I signed on for? In the dirt and totally outside at the mercy of the weather. I love it though! The simple tasks.The big sky above. The high peaks in the distance. Close and familiar to me.I came for the experience and the location.A chance to live a few months in the Adirondacks. Money and benefits that will further the MOONTABS vision as winter settles over the northeast. My schedule taps my energy and severely impacts my writing! The stories add up and don’t get written. They occupy my mind and grind away like the contents of a cement mixer. It’s hard to focus sometimes on a certain post. But I live in the midst of an incredible transition.Autumn in the Adirondacks. My first ever. That’s what lies at the heart of the transition.Deeds.Work. A shuffle of time and energy. Miles and purpose. But most importantly nature showing her colors. It represents so very much to me this special time of year. Perhaps the primordial hunter/ gather lives in spirit energy at the heart of my enthusiasm. Mental or something much more? Something more I can safely say after my many decades of experiencing this feeling. The transition is as much a part of my identity as anything I have ever known. It’s raw and powerful. A place where words fail me. If only I could share it properly. The challenge presents itself I suppose. Autumn doesn’t happen overnight after all so why should my words? While experiencing the change I too transition. If the decades of my life are likened to seasons then perhaps I have truly arrived to my temporary destination of autumn. A time to show my colors. The connection is obvious to me if not to everyone. And there lies the aspiring writer’s challenge. To draw you into the transition. It lives in scents and sounds. The changing leaves that will fall with a timeless grace of all that will be reborn. The migration and the preparation of those who remain to face the winter. The energy is intense and urgent. But never unfulfilled or wasted. To the watchful observer it plays out with a familiar progression. The transition. Follow it.Embrace it. Find it in yourself. It’s so simple in its perfection. True happiness lives there I think. Other things can wait in the demanding burdens of a frantic society. Small blessings and simple truths multiply during this magical time of year. It is now week 7.Day 4. The final 10 hours of work on the Olympic Center Revitalization project in Lake Placid, New York. Who knows what waits to be discovered today!✍️
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The Subtle Art Of Camp Life
July presses forward with somewhat unseasonal weather here in the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York. The rains have dominated the forecast and pound the area with incessant,unrelenting frequency. Our soggy debut camping trip of six days at the end of June left us more experienced with boondocking in the Airstream but found us regrouping with a more weather focused preparation. We purchased additional tarps and light tethering ropes. We retired the screen house in favor of a larger steel framed garage sale tent. We only had six days before leaving our staging area in Jennifer’s yard and heading back up to the Adirondacks for our next trip. The forecast was anything but promising but we decided that canceling was not an option. Jennifer had toiled hard to secure the dates through a cancellation website. Giving up wasn’t an option for us at any rate. We headed out on a sunny Saturday afternoon. The truck fully loaded with gear, a kayak, and canoe pulling the Airstream. Jennifer’s car also fully loaded with gear. Sporting a canoe on top and two dogs in the back. We were a party of four. Jennifer,Zane,Garrett (Jennifer’s nephew), and myself.The dogs Stella and Greaser. Coolers,drinks, and all sorts of dry goods. A fully loaded refrigerator and freezer in the coach. The cupboards and drawers packed in advance. Jennifer is a fabulous planner and organizer. She’s set up the travel coach for efficiency and order.It remained up to us to learn the locations of the different things we’d need as the days unfolded. Our camping locations are state parks without full hook ups so there’s a little extra planning on my end of things. We need the generator and extra gas for it. I use a plastic siphon to gas up my generator. It’s clean and efficient.Better than a funnel I feel.We checked in at our campground then headed to our site after a quick stop to fill the 40 gallon water tank of our coach. I prefer to travel with minimal fresh water on board. At 7 pounds plus per gallon it adds a lot of weight to the trailer.Next came my least favorite part! Backing the trailer into the campsite! We like camping in forested parks so the abundance of trees makes for tricky parking at times. It’s a group effort with spotters on both sides. It’s always a relief once I get it close! We then work together to get it level side to side and front to back. We employ a variety of plastic ramp pieces and pieces of lumber. It gets easier with experience! Front to back is never a problem with the electric tongue jack doing all the work! We begin to work separately after that as I finish the final coach setup. The camp takes shape fairly quickly once the large tent site is chosen. It takes a couple hours of brisk activity to get everything in order in a manner that flows. The boys settle into their space after blowing up air mattresses and rolling out sleeping bags. Our bedroom area is set up permanently at this point so that saves us time! The cooking/dining tent is a vital part of our camp. It cuts down on traffic in and out of the coach. We also have learned to set up an outdoor dishwashing station behind the coach. I mentioned much of this in a recent post but there’s a direction of thought here that begs reflection. It’s that point early in the trip where you settle into a sort of informal daily routine. We spend most of the day outside if the weather is favorable. Cooking and dining both. Evenings find us close to the campfire talking about the adventures of the day. We don’t always do everything as a group. It just depends on the activities that are chosen for any given day. I suppose it’s the use of my time each day that takes me into a pensive forest of thought. I very quickly adapt into a life of late evenings and late mornings. I find myself sleeping in longer. Eight hours in bed sometimes. Very different than the four to five hours of sleeping each night during my working years. I find myself feeling as if I am wasting time or missing out.Perhaps I am still too driven to truly relax. After all time can be a nemesis for me as you may know if you follow my stories. I’m trying to overcome these strange thoughts but it’s going to take some time it appears. A typical morning has certain tasks that must be performed. Perked coffee the first order of business. Much more time consuming than a Keurig but very tasty! Generators can’t be started prior to 9am. The boys sleep late so breakfast becomes a daily brunch. Today we didn’t eat until almost noon! The morning walk to the toilet and drive to the shower house. Our daily activities begin after 1pm many days. Rarely before 11am. Sometimes brunch is early with no cooking at all. Today is day thirteen here for me. We were supposed to go home after six days but Jennifer picked up some cancellations that tied two separate trips together. We actually moved to an adjacent site for one night last Friday. Talk about tear down and set up! We didn’t need to set up the tents at least! Then the kicker! The site we vacated remained empty that night! The whole reservation system is a mess in my opinion! Reserve America? How about we focus on New York State? But that takes us down the dark trail of negativity so let’s get back on track! When I stop and take a solid inventory of my days here where exactly did my time get spent? Most definitely on camp chores. The constant rain events keep us scrambling to dry towels and gear. We had a couple of somewhat destructive rain and wind events. The one two nights ago nearly destroyed our cooking tent.It hit suddenly and fiercely with little warning. It had been a rather lovely day. Warm and humid with a mix of sun and clouds. Zane and I had spent several hours paddling what’s known as the Floodwood Loop. Very fun with two short canoe carries. We had just gone to the shower house to clean up when the storm hit. Jennifer and Garrett rescued the tent and a bunch of our gear. We returned to help salvage the cooking tent and reset it. The boys sleeping tent and large tarp above weathered the storm like nothing happened! Regardless those types of storm events keep us busy! Zane and I have spent quite a bit of time paddling and hiking during the time he’s been here. It’s been in and out some for my three companions here with the endless details back home that can’t be avoided. I’ve pretty much put life back in the valley on hold these last thirteen days. One thing that takes time here is getting to town to get decent cell phone and internet service. We basically need to drive into Tupper Lake to do that most days. We double down picking up necessities like milk and ice. Firewood if we run low. It gives us a little diversity at times. Zane and I often need to drive to reach our hiking trailheads so we do our business on the way. Our most recent hike was up Catamount Mountain. It turned into quite the ordeal when we got separated from the dog on a tough rock scramble! It pretty much finished our day by the time we bushwhacked our way back out after losing the trail while retrieving Gracie. We learned a valuable lesson of teamwork and the importance of not getting separated! We didn’t return until after 7pm and a thunderstorm drove us into the coach. It was one of those nights where we were glad to have it’s kitchen and sleeping amenities! I think it may take some post camp life living to truly reflect on our time spent here. The days run together here and time passes much too fast. I need to run home for a few days before returning for the last three days of our reservation on this site.Today a north born wind chills me when the sun hides behind a cloud for a moment. The clothesline sways and our items finally dry! All is well and the afternoon awaits our decision of how best to spent the remainder of our day. Evening will require the second meal of the day to be crafted. Dishes and the purring generator recharging the batteries. A carefully laid fire if the rains don’t return. Camp life as I have never known it continues for the moment. How best to describe it and honor those moments remains the writer’s challenge. For the hours become rambling and difficult to follow at times in their silent passage. I don’t watch the clock here. I watch the sky and track the movement of the sun if we’re lucky enough to view it. Life flows with the daylight and the darkness. And if I sleep long and deep perhaps I need it. Leaving the race has been a challenge. Not to worry. I always seem to find my way back onto the track for a time. The home on wheels can’t stay here forever nor can we. The energy lives in the forward motion. This life that has become MOONTABS In Motion.Places of outdoor beauty where loons cry and waves gently lap on sandy shores. I try to find my balance here as these summer days tick past. I pull out my map and gaze upon the many unknown waterways that wait for us to explore them. And fondly remember those we know now. The dashes of untraveled trails on a map call with an urgency at times. Perhaps the drive represents more than I can understand at this moment in time. I must enter the now and count my small blessings. To question is to learn new answers. To follow the heart brings passion and love into the light. It is enough this simple existence.The spirit energy will fuel the journey.The stories will follow.
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!✍️
Not Castle!Palace!
I’ve always had a fascination with ice! That should come as no surprise as I have lived my entire life here in the Macomb/Hammond,New York area. We experience the full benefits of four seasons of change. Winter brings its share of snow and ice each year. I mentioned it recently in a post. My father remembered a time when ice was harvested for storage. He spoke of it occasionally. There would come a time each winter when the ice of ponds and lakes would reach the desired thickness to harvest. People constructed ice houses where the harvested blocks would be stacked in layers using saw dust to insulate the thermal mass. It was then used during the warmer months in ice boxes as refrigerators and electricity had not become commonplace. We as modern people do not fully appreciate all our ancestors endured as part of their daily routines. It’s a subject worthy of a blog story. Today I tell a different story. Our lives take many turns and sometimes where we find ourselves can be the cause of some serious reflection. Prior to yesterday I had nothing but some rudimentary knowledge of ice harvesting. My father had once pointed out to me a location on Beaver Creek near Dekalb where some Amish were harvesting ice. It’s not very common here in the St. Law. Valley anymore. Fast forward many years.Winter 2019. My girlfriend Jennifer took me to the Saranac Lake Winter Carnival for the first time! Very fun! A parade,food,drinking,and dancing in the local bars. A room at the renovated Hotel Saranac. “Hot Sara” to the locals in reference to some burned out neon lights on it’s roof prior to the renovation.We went cross country skiing at nearby Cascade Ski Center as well. But it was on a walk to the shores of Lake Flower that this story truly began. One that is forged by my fascination with ice! For someone who had lived so long in the north country, I had never spent much time in the Adirondacks during the winter months. A little snowmobiling years ago but that’s about it. It was Jennifer who would introduce me to a walk through an ice palace for the first time! We bundled up and strolled through the ice palace.Took photos and enjoyed the moment! We were talking to a local gentleman when I used the term “ ice castle”.He corrected me immediately! “It’s not called a castle! It’s called a palace!” I was a little taken back as it appeared that I had offended this man! Some research has uncovered that at one point it was referred to as a fortress as well as a palace. Further research has uncovered the origins of the Winter Carnival and some history of ice palace construction. An interesting story of human endeavor and love of community. It dates back to 1896. The first palace was constructed in 1898. The ice palace construction was put out to bid each year to local ice harvesting contractors.It hasn’t been constructed every year since the carnival began I also learned. There are gaps in the timeline. But it’s been a yearly fixture since around the 1950’s. During World War 1,the Great Depression,and World War 2 construction didn’t occur at all. After 1960 the project became a volunteer effort due to cost constraints.This is a point where I think the story truly becomes even more remarkable! That place where local colleges,businesses,and dedicated individuals work together for a huge undertaking!My timeline of Adirondack adventure began to spike in 2018 when Zane and I pursued our high peaks quest in earnest. How ironic I’d meet Jennifer that October. The Adirondacks are a favorite destination of hers! Things began to ramp up! Standing under the sturdy walls of the ice palace in 2019 I began to grow curious about its construction. After spending over 35 years working construction I could appreciate the work that had occurred to construct it. I told Jennifer that one day I’d love to volunteer for the build!January 2020 would find both of us missing Winter Carnival due to surgery recoveries. Then the bad news in autumn 2020 that Winter Carnival would be modified due to the pandemic. The good news was that the palace construction would occur! Volunteers were needed!While staying at a Saranac Airbnb on a work adventure, I got some great intel from the owners. I was added to the volunteer email list and waited for our possible chance to get involved. We followed the weather and progression of the formation of the ice. The construction start date was January 28th we learned. We were unable to volunteer until January 30th. We’d miss some of the build!Cutting ice was the draw for me! Twenty something years ago I had purchased an ice saw from a local junker. I didn’t even know what it’s purpose was until he told me. I just knew I had to have it! I asked him how much to purchase it. I held my breath as I waited for his reply. $30 he said. Sold! I didn’t know if I had gotten a good deal or not but my prize was worth all that to me! It’s the curse of a hoarder, junker! When a piece “speaks” to me I must try to leave with it! Often taken home and stored for some uncertain purpose. I really didn’t think I would ever wish to cut ice but it could make a nice rustic wall piece. Heavy though and super sharp!The ice saw was hanging in my garage in 2012 when the house fire engulfed it. The firemen were able to extinguish the garage fire but it was a total loss. I scoured the charred walls trying to salvage things. I found my ice saw. Black and covered with a greasy ash film. The wooden handle badly burned with an outer layer of charcoal. But still ok it appeared. I gave it a simple cleaning and stuck it in the back of one of my barns. It has set there for over 8 years. I dragged it out last week. Took it home and wire brushed it back to bare metal. Sanded the charred handle and stained it. Built a simple transport guard. Got it packed into the car. Yesterday we were there on the shores of the lake ready to volunteer at 8am. Signed in and put to work. Given some basic training by the experienced volunteers. I asked if I could bring my saw to the ice field. Yes! It became that moment that a hoarder dreams of experiencing! That moment when your prize becomes something more! Would it even work properly? Too dull or ruined by the fire? No! Once I learned the trick of handling it I made cuts until my arms grew weary. The end of the ice field became a goal to reach. The harvest is a team effort. We were invited onto the ice as part of that team. Zane didn’t find the cutting all that interesting so found his niche with the spud crew. Three people striking in unison to free the 2×4 feet blocks out into the leading edge of the open ice field. We had been warned of potential shears from cracks and told what to do if one occurred. It happened suddenly with no warning! Zane was the closest to the open water of the now large float section. A couple yells were all I heard before I realized something was up! It was over quickly! I turned to see Zane and the other two guys leaping from a freed section of sheared ice to the safety of solid surfaces. Close call! Lots of nervous laughs after! A short pause then the return to our task. But I was on alert after that! But proud of Zane! He took his spot and returned to work like nothing had happened! We finished the cutting shortly after and put away the cutting equipment. My ice saw carried from the ice with a new found reverence. In a few short hours I had learned a new skill! As a lover of rural heritage I found positivity and connection to history under the cold but sunny skies of Saranac Lake. I have a connection to our lands in Macomb that time has forged with blood,sweat, and tears. It will never break for time lived there was the beginning of all I would become. Yet an inner voice calls me to the Adirondacks. To call it home for an unknown length of time. Yesterday was more than just hard work and volunteering. It represents something much larger. I must return soon and saw the ice once again before this opportunity falls behind. I can be quoted as saying that “ a person has a finite number of syrup seasons in their life! They should never be missed!”Perhaps it’s true of ice cutting and ice palace construction. We met some truly, great people yesterday!I got an interesting story from one fellow and made a new friend! The citizens of this community radiant warmth and positive energy. I know exactly what I will do when I return. I will stand at the end of the open waters of the ice field we have cleared and face the sun. Listen to the voice that continues to speak softly but louder with each passing season. I will listen for the answers out there. The slush makers who cement the ice palace together desire a certain blend. That perfect mix of snow and water. Life can be compared to that. Spirit energy fuels dreams. Lends strength to decisions. Those moments when you step out and explore. That place where history meets the present. A destination of now. Adventure keeps us young and growing. On the drive home yesterday I told Zane that I am regressing in mental age. Traveling backwards now to a place where we will meet. It’s the boy inside the man who whispers from that inner place. Home can be many places. My heart knows that the Adirondacks will be called home. The seasons of chance are meant to embrace .
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.
Change Is Good
Early morning finds me sitting by the fireplace sipping coffee in our small,cozy rental. Wisps of wood smoke tickle my nose when I fuel it. The owner’s choice of firewood wise. White ash. It burns with a certain fragrance. There’s even a small Xmas tree here! So many comforts I won’t even mention. It’s the perfect location for our latest battery charging adventure! The Adirondacks! Our home away from home!The town of Wilmington just down the road. It was a surprise for Jennifer that was pried out of me a little at a time! She never knew everything but I had to let her know how to pack and prepare! She’s got it together when planning,preparing,and packing! We had some good laughs last night when we realized things had been forgotten! One of us expected the other to bring certain things but it didn’t happen! We will manage! More laughs when Jennifer asked me what’s on the agenda tomorrow? No clue I said! All I planned was getting us here! There are messages in my simple sentences above that I hope people will recognize. Ponder and consider in their own lives. The first might be that home is where your heart finds itself. It’s that feeling we get when we settle in somewhere. It quickly becomes home for us. It gets easier the longer we travel together. There’s a certain buzz that comes with each new location or returning to a familiar place. Usually Jennifer is the planner. Finding the locations and making all the arrangements. I wanted this time to be different. I wanted to get it done on my own! Pick a worthy destination where she could relax and rejuvenate. Myself as well! As for an itinerary I deliberately didn’t make one beyond the destination. It’s something I wanted to be spontaneous. That place where our spirit energy takes over and guides the decisions that will determine the outcome of a day. That place where two people head out together with no other plan than being together in a special place. Life is very real in those moments of unplanned decisions. It’s when she’ll say “stop! Turn down this dirt road! Let’s see what’s down by the water!”Or me saying “I need to see what’s down that trail.” It’s that moment when one wants to make the other happy and agrees with no hesitation. Or when both of us decide to give Stella some dog playtime on a sandy beach we spot. Life finds us then. MOONTABS follow. Change and spontaneous decisions can lift the spirits especially in stressful times.It’s that place where you give in to the inner voice and place your trust in love! It’s that moment where a smile turns to laughter and all is forgotten for a time. It’s stepping out of yourself and offering your hand! To say “walk with me! All is well in the now! Tomorrow we’ll figure it all out! We need to live today!” It’s where we live,laugh,and love!Whenever we place ourselves! ✍️