Tag Archives: time

The Forgotten Ones

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August 9th is getting closer although I can’t always wrap my head around the passage of time. I often written about time but these days I am trying to live in the now. I am searching for answers to new questions. I find myself at the proverbial fork in the road. There are no signs or mile markers. I certainly haven’t been traveling an interstate anyway by any definition of highway. Picture a single lane road with twists and turns. Numerous bumps and potholes. You can never see very far up this road ever it seems. It doesn’t show on maps or have gps coordinates.It’s certainly the road less traveled I have decided. I am thinking that maybe it’s not a fork in the road at all. Maybe it’s an intersection of different roads. Some I suspect are dead ends even though they are not marked. Call it intuition.They look too easy to head down with colorful billboards filled with promises. Others look too smooth and predictable. I fear I would fall asleep driving down them.See here’s the thing. They all end up in the same place. It’s all about how much time I get to travel and if I am able to keep driving. And since this is a nature themed blog where my imagination runs wild let’s also assume that I am walking.Call this a continuing introduction of sorts to my present state of mind. As for the road? I am planning on taking the one that is choked with weeds with lots of low hanging brush that may scratch me up some. It seems more interesting and calls out to the spirit energy that spins my inner compass. No fear. Things will show themselves in time. I have a story to tell now.

August 9th 2021. The day I started at the Lake Placid Olympic Center Revitalization Project working as an electrician. Nothing new to me. Just a new location filled with new people and tasks. I was there for several reasons and I have mentioned them before on this site. Aside from financial compensation I was there for another important reason. Stimulation for creation. I was going to be working and living in the Airstream in the beautiful Adirondack Mountains! But that’s not the important part of this story. The important part is the people I have gotten to know. This my story but more importantly it is their story. One I promised them last year. One that needed to wait as fate delivered new characters and new events. A story that only time and proximity to all the other workers would write all by itself. It would take the change of seasons and a job that continued to move forward to fill in the chapters of this story. Lots of listening at break time and asking people questions. No I don’t spend all day talking! There’s time in the morning before the shift and after. There’s always time to gather a little bit of people’s stories. It’s been a difficult week on the job. Today we honor and remember one of our Union brothers. He will not be forgotten by those of us who got to know him. Just who are the forgotten ones then?They are my friends, fellow tradesmen, and those who occupy our workplace. They are more than a passerby will ever know. In the fray we are united.

I can’t say for certain when I began to ponder the subject of the forgotten ones or if most people would even understand. There’s no connection to nature in this story.There’s certainly a connection to human interaction and coexistence. This story is not intended to insult non-construction personal nor unfairly target anyone. It is meant to portray a certain lifestyle choice we choose. A profession that is far too often misrepresented and stereotyped. I am the seasoned veteran at this point as are many of my peers and I know more people then I can even remember now. The forgotten ones are construction people I work with and find interesting. They all have a story! I love to hear their stories! I can’t name everyone unfortunately. But if someone reads this that works with me or knows me and wants to share then I am all ears!There’s always room for a part two!

Let’s lay a foundation of sorts now. Picture reading the newspaper or watching the news. A project of new construction or renovation is featured. The plans were drawn and bids were accepted. Things are about to take off. You might see a golden shovel and a ground breaking ceremony. Shiny new hard hats on smiling dignitaries in spotless clothing kicking off the project.But where are the workers? They aren’t there yet of course! Fast forward many months or sometimes years. A ribbon cutting ceremony with smiling dignitaries and high end project personnel. But where are the workers? Gone of course! The job was finished and “punched” out. Countless man hours were expended and all manners of tradespeople were involved in the process of completing the project. Sure we got paid for our efforts.That’s what employment is all about. But not many ever really recognize the team efforts that make up a completed project.In all fairness is it safe to say that we as construction workers know exactly what other people truly do or how they accomplish their jobs? Probably not in every insistence. By now you may have gotten the gist of the title! Yes I fear sometimes we are the forgotten ones! Maybe far too many of us American workers. Our service men and women too. We’re not looking for a holiday! We have one! It’s called Labor Day!Most importantly it’s all about joking around and keeping people engaged!I have fun talking to other workers and kept telling them that I will write a story for us!

On my present project we have a morning safety/coordination meeting that everyone attends. It’s common these days and a good idea truthfully. It turns into a golden opportunity for talking before and slightly after most days. We are a diverse group of individuals. Men mostly but there are several women as well. That’s common also now. I enjoy looking around and watching everyone.There are quite a few trades represented on our project. All levels of talent. I work on a crew of electricians that numbers around 10 most days. There’s usually someone that’s missing for whatever reason. Mainly me! Lol!We are a pretty tight bunch and our foreman Mike knows how to pair us up best. I get special treatment cause I am the odd man out being a part timer. I work with other trades people that I know by name only. I don’t know their stories and it’s only because we had some type of job interaction. We come in all sizes and shapes. Heavy,slim,tall, and short.Worn clothing and crusty old hard hats are the norm. Our hard hats are our badge of travel experience.Covered with stickers that sometimes give a snapshot into our personal lives. Steel toed work boots and safety eye protection make up the remaining wardrobe. We are all ages. From the very young fresh faced apprentices with shiny new hard hats to grizzled,gray veterans of countless projects. Plenty of teasing and bull shitting going on. You learn quickly or suffer immensely as one young apprentice did recently. He stepped away and decided our crude workplace wasn’t his true calling. We’re not cruel or hateful but we expect a lot. It’s the nature of the beast as they say. It’s not for everyone. I take the inevitable teasing all in stride and would be disappointed if I didn’t get ribbed by the other workers. I give it right back with crude adjectives sprinkled in like toppings on a salad.Language is spoken differently amongst the forgotten ones. Fortunately I have learned to alter my vocabulary off the job. Funny how that works! You never truly have time to get to know everyone and some workers are totally off reach. Cynical,dark, and possessed of negative attitudes. Best avoided and left to their internal strife. They are few in number fortunately. You never truly know what’s going on in someone’s life so it’s best not to judge harshly. We are the motley crew. Plenty of long distance driving for some. Motel rooms and nighttime bar life for others during the week. Camp ground life for some of us. The days begin quietly and end the same. In between it’s a beehive of noisy activity. My first day on a new project always give me a twinge of anxiety. It’s been like that for years despite my decent knowledge of our trade. There’s a new commute to learn. Parking issues sometimes. Not knowing anyone sometimes. I always fear that I won’t make the grade for some strange reason. I am not alone in this feeling though. Others tell me that as well. We are just migrate workers I often tell the new apprentices. When the work is gone so are we. It’s off to new places and new coworkers. That’s the juice and the addiction that has always fueled my buzz for construction work once I get settled into the job. The unknowns and the unexpected. I have made some great long term friends out on the jobs. Others turned out to be passing through but once we are separated from the job it’s not always easy to connect. That pretty much sums up some of it. My heart is heavy today as I leave to say goodbye to our friend and brother. I so wished to get to know him better and hear more of his story. He now numbers as one of my fallen coworkers that we have lost to accident, time, and health issues. They are not forgotten ones.

I find it time to lighten the subject and bring some levity as I close this post to continue my day. The levity lives in the nicknames that follow some of my coworkers. Please don’t be disappointed if I miss you this time around! I will start with Eric. Aka Fat Dog. I hope he lets me feature him on a future post. We think he’s the best! There’s another cat they call Swamp Buck Billy. What a trip that dude! There’s Big Al and my new friend Sky Dog. Aka Cowboy too!A guy they call Dougie Fresh. There’s also the Odyssey of Homer. He’s funny when he yells a the younger guys to get stuff done!There’s a guy Cody that I call Code Red. And Ryan the spaceman due to his weird helmet visor. There’s Light Pole Larry and Scotty the satellite whisperer. There’s Matt known to some as the People’s choice in small circles of competitive large weight lifters off the job. A few know me as Taz but mostly call me by my given name. I can’t even begin to acknowledge everyone. A few from years ago stick with me to this day! Road Kill and Bad Ass Bud. Buffalo Bob and Smurf. A longer haired me sported the nickname Goldilocks. There’s Dirt Belly aka Black Out. Rocket Man Ron and the Turbo Tot. Rug burn. So many forgotten ones as well. How ironic this occupational assignment of names and faces. We will leave your town a better place we feel. Not to mention a few dollars short of our hard won cash. Enjoy the ribbon cutting folks! We won’t be there for it. If fact I don’t know where I’ll be headed. Maybe to the rocky hills of Macomb to wander the farm property for a bit. It’s been hard to leave this racket for some reason. I guess it poisoned my blood a long time ago. Who’s to say and should I even bother asking at this point? It’s the people I think. It’s the stories and how we get there. It’s the finished product we craft with prideful purpose. That’s how I see it anyway.✍️

For Zack. We Just Never Know

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Zane and I have continued with additional Adirondack challenges since completing our ADK 46 high peaks in September of 2020. Three of the additional challenges are often called the Trifecta.The peaks are found in the Tupper Lake region,Saranac Lake region, and in the Lake Placid region. If you desire to summit some beautiful and less demanding hikes then consider the Trifecta challenge.

We completed the easiest of the three first.The Tupper Lake Triad. We then tackled our remaining Saranac 6 mountains. We had hiked Ambersand in June of 2020 as a test of my hiking abilities post broken pelvis recovery. It was a tough day for me and I seriously had to reconsider how we were going to complete our remaining high peaks that summer. But that’s another story. By autumn of 2021 we were shy 2 peaks of the 9 peaks that make up the Lake Placid 9. Commonly listed as the LP9. The final 2 peaks were hiked on snowshoes in Winter 2022. We found it exhilarating and something totally different. It’s important to note that we had hiked the Saranac 6 mountain known as Scarface in January of 2021 on a sub-zero day.The trails were so hard that we didn’t need snowshoes! Yes we were supposed to have them! I suppose a detailed post about the Trifecta will be in order at some point as we made some incredible memories completing it. It’s time to pull this story together and explain the overlapping nature that occurs when one embarks on the Adirondack fire tower challenge. The fourth of our adventure challenges.

Ok that’s where I left off as a draft the other day. I intended to finish later but things happened. I have always promised raw and honest testimony here. As much as I would like to write of the fire tower challenge I need to unload my thoughts and feelings of the past few days.Life happens fast sometimes and things occur that stop us in our tracks. The heart still beats but the pulse of that life stops for a moment. I am choosing to leave the fire tower draft at the beginning of this post to emphasize how a story may never truly be written as we intended. If my life is a story then what will fill the chapters that bind the book together?You will find no happy ending to the story I am about to tell but I must tell it as best I can to somehow ease my heavy heart. I am confused but not at a loss for words. I seek to find something positive somehow. It begins most simply. I have a lost a new friend who I never truly got to know as well as I planned.

I can’t exactly say when I met the young journeyman wireman Zack at the Lake Placid Olympic Center Revitalization Project. Sometime after the skating oval project wound down and I began to work in the lower level of the Link Project on the hill. I was just working part time by then and Zack was busy pulling the basement area together with the assistance of several other people the day I first began to get to know him. I liked his friendly, open,and honest nature immediately. He explained to me that he wasn’t sure he was getting everything correct. He felt a little unsure about certain aspects of the blue prints. I quickly reassured him that it seemed like he had a good handle on it and sometimes we had to trust our best interpretation of the plans for the best outcome. There is no paved pathway for electrical installation in the crowded confines where we install our conduits, wiring, and all the other devices that make up a modern building. We coordinate with the other trades on the fly in the noisy, dirty environment that is our workplace. It didn’t take me long to realize that Zack was smart and more capable than he wanted to admit. I told him as much at some point that week. Our friendship grew from simple origins as it often does on the construction site. Conversations at break and on the walk to the parking lot at night. I totally blew it one night when I said something in front of him at the end of the shift. I felt terrible about it when a coworker later explained the circumstances. I was absent from the job for a time and wondered how I would ever face Zack again. How would I broach the subject and apologize for my rude comments? Would he even let me?But it is here that his true character would manifest itself. We arrived at the parking area at the same time the next time I worked. Zack immediately said hi and smiled at me! He asked me how things were going. And he taught me something in that moment I later realized. Forgiveness.I decided that I would cut right to the chase as we walked up to the building together. I apologized and he opened up to me with an honesty that amazed me. Many would have never forgiven my comments but he did and I explained that I was so very wrong. It was a humbling experience for me and I realized this young man was someone uniquely special in his openness. Our friendship grew stronger after that and I began to know him much better. I learned he had created his own business and was hoping to launch into something that others might find intimidating. Zack was married and a family man. They had three young children. He had a bright and promising future I felt. I told him as much. He was liked by everyone and always seemed to be smiling! We would catch up when I was on the job and he was always interested in what recent adventures we had embarked upon. Time kept moving forward and winter became spring. Then spring was summer.

Recently I began to see more of Zack as I began to work more frequently. I didn’t have the privilege of being his partner and even seeing him that much. We did walk together quite often to the parking area. He would ask me lots of questions about all sorts of things. I guess he must have valued my opinion. I learned that he liked to write and encouraged him to pursue it further as a way of dealing with stress. We talked about a lot of personal history. Not things that need to be shared here nor are important to share here. We all know that life punches us hard at times. Getting back up for the next round is what matters!I mention his candid confessions to further define his personal character. I told him plenty of my struggles from over the years and the path I hoped to walk as life continued. Despite our differences in age we shared so very much in common. He would always get me to talking! Bad idea as I sometimes inadvertently dominated the conversation. A flaw of mine. I am trying to be better about that. But I know he liked my passion for all things nature. He certainly liked my energy when I got rolling! He never complained and I liked that about him. And then last Thursday. Zack’s final acts of kindness and friendship to me.

I arrived to the job Thursday morning totally frustrated because my phone had no service. I was highly agitated as I needed to contact some people before the shift began and later also. Zack walked in suddenly and stepped up to me with a cheerful greeting. He suddenly told me that I was an inspiration to him! Why I asked? “Because of who you are and what you bring to the job”. “You’ve helped me”.I thanked him for such a generous compliment! He took a second look at me and asked if I was ok. Phone issues I explained. “Use mine today” he said. “Keep it with you all day if you need to.” I sent a quick text with his phone and shortly after my phone started working. We spent a few minutes talking in private and shared some recent personal situations. Something we did on occasion and never in front of everyone. Zack told me of some challenges he was having. I listened quietly and let him vent for awhile. He was excited though that things were working out. He said that he felt that everything was going to be ok. He almost hugged me as we left to begin our work. It turned into a man bump of sorts. I saw him at break and we talked more in private. He seemed very high strung but in a happy,positive way. I wasn’t worried about him at all in that moment as the summer sunshine fell on us. Zack told me he was headed to the beach at Mirror Lake at lunch time for a swim! What a good idea I thought as the sweat soaked my shirt through.All afternoon the rest of the crew was laughing about a video they shot of Zack jumping off a dock into the lake! What a guy I thought! After work several of us walked with Zack to the parking lot. “ Bring your shorts and join in next week” he said with a smile on his face! I laughed and we all said goodbye.

I spend Thursday night at the campsite in typical fashion. I sat by the campfire awhile and mused a few hours away. Phone service is horrible at my site and you never get most calls or messages. I tried to send out a few texts unsuccessfully. I went to bed with no phone service like most nights. I got up Friday morning and checked the time on my phone. A couple of texts had made it through during the night. That happens on occasion . One was from Zack wishing me well and saying that I was in his prayers. He called me brother. Something we call our coworkers when we respect them.I sent him a return text around 11am from Tupper Lake when I had service. I didn’t hear anything back though. Late Friday afternoon I got a group text from my foreman Mike saying he had terrible news! He had heard of a fatal traffic accident and that it may have been Zack. I shocked to my core when I realized it was true. Overwhelmed with emotion when I realized my text was sent hours after the accident. I still don’t know all the details yet. Tomorrow I will be on the job with the rest of the crew searching for answers. I did find out Zack had texted another crew member. Also a friend of both of us. His shock and grief matched mine. We texted back and forth for a time. Tomorrow will be a tough day for the crew.But that’s not where our thoughts should be right now.

It is with Zack’s wife and children that our thoughts and prayers belong. His family and all who loved him. I can’t even begin to know their suffering.It’s a story that has personal meaning as well. Too young was this friend of ours taken. Death is always hard. Accidental death even more so. I find myself stricken with a sudden imbalance of spirit energy. There is nothing positive in the loss of our union brother, coworker, and friend unless it is in the blessings of having known him. To see him smile and hear him laugh. To know how much much he had overcome in life. This young man was special and I will never forget him. He taught me some things that I needed to learn. For that I am thankful and most blessed. I pray my simple words honor him respectfully. I will search for his spirit energy on the mountain tops and say a prayer for his family each time I summit. We just never know.✍️

Conclusions

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Life at Rollins Pond ticks along and it’s already Tuesday. Sunday was a pretty laid back day overall. A trip to town for a couple things, laundry, and some Wi-Fi to launch a couple blog posts. It was a total scorcher so some quality beach bum time was in order after. Pretty typical day of camp life routine. Meals, dishes, and an evening campfire. But a storm was brewing on the horizon.

I can’t say exactly what time the rain started but eventually a heavy downpour was hammering so hard on the Airstream roof that sound sleep was out of the question. It’s like drums above your head. Tiny pine cones were pinging off the roof also. The storm lasted for several hours and by morning had passed. But there were plenty of signs of copious runoff. On the way to Tupper Lake on Route 30 a highway crew was attempting to drain a flooded section of highway. Plugged culvert it appeared. The temperature had dropped from the eighties of Sunday down into the sixties. A northern born breeze kept things on the chilly side throughout most of the day. Much of the day was spent running down to the valley to grab Zane and Gracie. We did a few odd jobs and then returned to the campsite for a late dinner. Pretty uneventful day of the usual camp chores. I have reached the conclusion that camp life demands a certain amount of attention each day regardless of what activities we hope to pursue. No new revelation there. Just a more focused observation.

Tuesday dawned rather cloudy and a few tiny rain drops fell in my morning coffee. 9am is generator time and I usually do some other chores while the batteries are charging. Zane was sleeping in and I was trying to decide the best activity for the day. Paddling was a given. We had decided that Monday night before bed. I decided to consult our map this time before heading out like the last time.Long Pond would be our end destination. We would reach it via the Rollins outlet into Floodwood then an overland carry of 1373 meters on a trail of unknown condition. The weather remained cool and cloudy but sometimes the sun would pop through for a minute. I was dressed in layers and really didn’t plan on going into the water at any point during the day. Zane and I packed light with only cold beverages. Having both Stella and Gracie in the canoe adds quite a bit of weight to our payload. The trip down through and across Floodwood was pretty casual and we made excellent time. I decided to take Zane up the tiny creek I had explored Saturday. Pretty rugged he decided and we turned back towards the canoe carry. The carry was rather easy for me actually with Zane handled the dogs and the paddles. The mosquitoes were a little bothersome though especially when my hands were occupied carrying the canoe. Our Old Town Pathfinder is 13 feet 10 inches in length and weighs around 74 lbs. It has a carry yoke and balances well. No problem for me still after many years. Zane still prefers not to carry it so I typically get the job. We passed a beaver pond part way into the carry that I believe is actually listed on the map as Anniversary Pond. Still not clear on that at the moment but it fits the location. We reached Long Pond shortly after and I felt like it had been less of a carry than I had originally expected. The sun had returned and we were at our destination!

We weren’t sure what direction we wanted to explore but I had noticed a creek in the valley just below the carry as we approached the pond. It looked very similar to the creek that I had followed Saturday. We headed towards the sound of moving water and discovered what we believed was the outlet of Long Pond. Having studied the map it now made perfect sense. This might very well be my creek! I suddenly began to consider heading back down it on the return trip. Zane was hesitant at first but I began to perk his interest when I mentioned the sluice way that most likely was down the creek if we traveled it. We continued exploring the pond and locating the various primitive campsites along its vast shoreline. Hardly a pond and definitely long I feel that it’s more like a lake. Plenty of dark water of unknown depth with numerous bays and points. There were a few occupied campsites and several other paddlers poking around in the distance. Rather isolated and a place a person could easily find some privacy if that was an objective. The afternoon was moving along and we decided to tackle the outlet. I mentioned to Zane that I was going to keep track of the impassable obstacles that blocked our way downstream. The outlet started out easy to navigate. So old chop marks were evidence that someone had once maintained this waterway at some point. Shortly after we reached obstacle number one. So it was climb out and pull the canoe over. The creek’s current suddenly began to increase dramatically and there were no obstacles in sight. We picked up speed and soon found ourselves in some tiny rapids. Zane was shooting a video while I tried to steer our way through. It was a bumpy ride and we hit several rocks that I feared may have scratched the canoe bottom but there was no way to stop our headlong race down the fast moving creek. We spun sideways and the front end of the canoe caught on a large boulder. Water poured into the canoe and we nearly went over! I jumped out into the fast moving current and got the canoe back in motion. Suddenly we were through the tiny rapids! The obstacles began again shortly after and the count continued to rise. I suddenly recognized where I was when we hit a section of navigable creek for a short distance. Gracie was out of the canoe at this point and either running the bank or swimming behind us. She had nearly gotten run over shortly after the rapids and was almost sucked under a large log blocking the creek. Something that I had feared might happen. We kept Stella safely inside the canoe but I think the whitewater had frightened her a little. Zane was in and out of the canoe the same as me depending on the obstacles. He was in the canoe with me when suddenly the 1927 sluiceway appeared. We had made it and proved what I suspected. Enter the conclusion of what had been unknown.

After that we struggled through the remainder of the obstacles and reached Floodwood shortly after. We were getting bit by numerous deer flies in the swampy section just before the pond. The canoe was filthy and I had no dry clothing at all. My phone survived in its waterproof case as did Gracie’s dog control collar and transmitter. We paddled back as quickly as we could to boost our body temperatures. The sun came out full force and we were laughing about our adventure! At a the campsite Zane showed me portions of his video. Very entertaining!The language is a bit raw however as the whole event was filmed as it unfolded. No staging or retakes. It was one of those days that seem to find Zane and I. Make a simple plan and then something shows itself.I suppose that I am the instigator of much of situations we get into. But it’s a rush of spontaneous endeavor and possibilities. I do love a good thrill! Not to mention the strange need to see what lies beyond and between. On the creek we encountered no one. We were the wilderness explorers of that forested valley. Not many travel here and with good reason. There are some 63 obstacles that impend the creek I call Paradise. There was no folly in today’s adventure. Only memorable moments. MOONTABS!

As for conclusions there are several to be found I decided as I basked in the sun on our campsite beach after getting dried out. One is the knowledge that we are blessed to be having these times together. Zane is growing up. Soon he will be a high school senior. My conclusion is that time passes quickly and we must make it count. As large and fluffy white clouds slowly passed over me while I sat on the beach I reached another conclusion. The magic of the clouds themselves which we grow so accustomed to seeing throughout our lives. What would we think about them if we were to suddenly see them for the first time? There is a place of deep reflection in those billowing white clouds and in their changing shapes. As for my final conclusion that I wish to share here, it would have to be this now that I have placed us in. Very different then so many nows that I have known. Task and time are different here as days run into each other. Tomorrow is the final full day on this Rollins Pond campsite for now. Another campsite awaits on Thursday. I am weary and the campfire begins to burn low. Edits? Not a chance tonight.✍️

The Continuation

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Part of the fun of camping on waterways is the prospect of exploring new areas with relative ease. Rollins Pond offers some unique paddling opportunities we have discovered.Today’s was no exception. It was more then I expected before it was finally over. It’s worth telling if only to keep others from following my route of arduous folly!

The adventure I had decided upon was actually a continuation of some exploration I had done one cool,rainy day in August of 2021. Zane and I had gotten familiar with the Rollins Pond outlet paddle down into Floodwood Pond after we paddled the “loop” one sunny day while camping last summer. It’s a fun trek with two short carries that I would rate easy. The paddle starts at Rollins Pond continues into Floodwood Pond then down the narrow connector to Little Square Pond. From Little Square the loop takes you into Copperas Pond. At the far end of Copperas you will find the first carry which takes you to Whey Pond. The second carry brings you to the Rollins Pond boat launch. From there you paddle back to your site. There are plenty of secluded spots where you can get out and take a break,swim, or casually drift into back waters. The proximity of the forest will reward the paddler with plentiful birdsongs and wonderful evergreen scents. There’s nothing like a whiff of balsam to enhance the already heightened senses.The water has a somewhat organic smell that’s difficult to describe. Not unpleasant just something you notice immediately in the narrow sections of the connectors. My exploration last August took me in a different direction then the loop.But first a previous noteworthy adventure of a similar nature. Some lessons are never learned!

It happened on our first ever camping trip to Rollins Pond last summer. We knew that Rollins connected to Floodwood but were uncertain of the route. I decided to skip checking the map. It will be more fun! I told Zane! I like the mystery of the unknown.We spotted a large culvert draining in the lower section of Rollins Pond and assumed that it led to our destination. It was challenging to get the canoe through the culvert but totally fun! Carrying it up and over the old railway bed was the only other option anyway. Once through the culvert the waterway became very weedy and difficult to navigate. We encountered three other paddlers so we assumed that we were going in the right direction. The waterway suddenly began to narrow down becoming difficult for paddling. The other paddlers disappeared so we assumed they must have turned back. The first of what would later become several beaver dams needed to be crossed. The ponds behind the dams made paddling easier so that was a plus.We forced Gracie our dog into the water as it was getting tedious dragging her extra weight along. She swam and swamp cruised the highly vegetated shoreline often out of our sight. We had no trouble hearing her however as she splashed her way through the thick swamp growths. The entire place had a jungle like appearance. Huge aquatic plants and tall,lush grasses. Bogs and small wetland brush. Lily pads covered some sections of the shallow ponds behind the beaver dams. It was wonderland of quietness and we suddenly started to wonder if we were going in the right direction. There were old chop marks where someone had cleared a path through at some unknown time. We encountered a man made footbridge that we assumed was used by hunters. It was tough paddling and we were expending a fair amount of energy moving forward. The waterway suddenly opened up and split just before a large pond appeared. I was keeping track of the time and mentally calculating the time that we would need to turn back before dark. It would be close if we didn’t reach something soon. We paddled up into the pond that I soon realized wasn’t Floodwood. Too small and there was nothing I recognized. We turned back to the split and headed up against the current. We soon encountered more beaver dams and the stream itself became ice cold. The beaver pond ended and we found ourselves at the end of any discernible waterway to paddle. We decided to turn back. Heading back was tough on our spirits having not reaching our goal but there was nothing else to do. We were muddy,wet, and scratched up from the brushy narrow spots. Eventually we reached the culvert and with some difficulty made our way back into Rollins Pond. Back at the camp we checked the map stashed in the camper. Epic fail to reach Floodwood! We had made our way up into Rock Pond we soon learned. But it was quite the adventure into a place few people seem to go.Wild and quiet. The kind of place that later you realize was worth the effort. True Adirondacks. We laughed about it later after the bug bites and scratches healed.

Here begins the true continuation.It was Saturday and I was alone with only Stella the dog for company. I felt like I needed a break from the noisy,busy surroundings of the campsite. Civilized camping comes with some conditions.For our adventure I decided to push further up the creek that empties in Floodwood that I had discovered last August in the hopes of finding a hidden pond or lake.I had gone up it a short distance but the pouring rain had finally chilled me so I felt it wise to turn back.Saturday the forecast was hot and dry. The perfect sort of day to explore. I knew the creek would be challenging but I had no clue to what degree. Getting there was pleasant enough. I spotted an osprey diving down to grab a fish but it appeared to miss the target. There were plenty of other paddlers around but everyone was spread out given the size of the ponds. I reached the mouth of the creek and hopped out for some photos. I waded up for a while getting past some small beaver dams but the water got deep in spots so I paddled as long as I was able. I suddenly came across a couple in a canoe much to my surprise. I asked the young man where did the creek go but he didn’t know or if it even was passable. He did say I would reach a bridge where a road crossed. Stella and continued upstream passing under the bridge shortly after. A truck pulling a trailer load of canoes crossed the bridge filling the forest with noisy echoes. The creek soon became choked with fallen trees but it appeared that someone had forced their way through at some point. Encouraged I pressed forward dragging the canoe along with Stella adding weight that wasn’t a problem at that moment. It was a lovely setting despite the fallen trees and shallow water. Balsam scents filled the air and everything was fresh from all the recent rainfall. Large pines and hemlocks pressed in upon the narrow stream. The current was rather swift and the creek flowed with a melody of natural forces. I was becoming a little frustrated with the constant obstacles however.Some were huge trees and often several were interconnected in a maddening tangle. I no longer suspected that other paddlers had been through ahead of me. I began to seriously wonder just how far did this meandering Creek continue? We pressed on with stubborn fervor. I decided to let Stella wade beside me. She got smart and ran along the shoreline. Quitting wasn’t an option I was entertaining at the moment. I suppose I could write many more words about our struggle up the creek but if you can picture the maze of fallen timber, shallow water, and the efforts of dragging the canoe then that pretty much covers it!However there was a positive facet of the mission! Quiet, pristine forest all to myself! A babbling brook where few venture. The deer flies and mosquitoes were a slight inconvenience but they weren’t too bad. The brook contained small fish that were difficult to identify in the current. Trout perhaps? I rounded a bend in the creek and was suddenly rewarded with a magnificent sight! A concrete sluiceway under what must have been a railway or road. There was an old battered sign that stated canoe access only. Strange. Getting through the sluiceway was difficult but we managed. The sluice way was inscribed with the date 1927. Whoever had constructed it had taken pride in their craftsmanship. We pressed beyond with a refreshed determination.For a time the creek was a little easier to wade and I became encouraged that I would soon reach something. But it became shallower and choked with deadfalls once again. I was becoming somewhat fatigued and with a heavy heart decided to scrap the adventure. Stella and I got a thrilling ride down through the sluiceway shortly after. We climbed up the steep grade and discovered what I recognized as the old railway bed. After that we plowed our way back to Floodwood and paddled back to the campsite. I was shot! I got out my maps and studied the route had taken. I had been close to reaching ponds but how close will remain a mystery for now. The map shows splits in the creek that I never saw. It shows two sluiceways under the old railway. The questions remain for the moment. Should I return and press beyond? I think I will present it to Zane when he arrives Monday. I think the draw of ripping through the sluice way a few times might seal the deal!And I might not mention all those many deadfall’s! I will leave out a few! ✍️

Summer Begins

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It’s been a busy time these past couple weeks. Lots of details in our modern lives to attend to as most people would agree. I made a grueling trip to Buffalo with the Airstream for its annual checkup at my dealer near Orchard Park. It was a long day that started early at 4am and finished at 10 pm when I returned. The interstate is a wild place to spend 10 hours driving. Even after a layover.The magnitude of the energy it takes to keep us all in motion is rather mind boggling to me. Out on the road with all the other vehicles I realize that perhaps this way of life we enjoy will no longer be possible at some point. The traffic on the interstates runs 24/7 and that thought itself makes my head spin!Gasoline prices have shot up dramatically in recent months. Traveling with the Airstream will come with a steeper price tag. It’s not something I hadn’t considered before purchasing it. It’s just a new reality of cost per destination. And so enters the revised summer plan.

Jen had booked us time at Rollins Pond beginning June 20th and running till June 30th. I sit here on the campsite beach tapping out this post while the busy lives of Happy Campers fill the air with sound. Conversations that carry from nearby campsites. A mix of French and English on this particular site. There’s barking dogs and gleefully screaming children. A late running generator grinds along with steady precision. I turned our suitcase Honda off early and will rely on the Zamp solar charger to power up the batteries till later today. It’s a nice addition to our boondocking set up. Out in front on the pond there is a constant procession of paddlers going by. My neighbors left to do some fishing and I expect they will be gone most of the day again. Nice young men and very polite when I met them Thursday night. I offered them an extension cord to power their trolling motor battery charger yesterday while I was charging the batteries during the evening generator time slot. They were used their truck inverter and needing to run the engine. I figured why have them waste their gas? They were thrilled that I offered. Being a good neighbor makes a difference when surrounded by other campers. Last year one of neighbors used to start my generator while I was still at work. It was a grand act of kindness I felt so I bought them a gift certificate to a local Italian restaurant in Tupper Lake. Out front the pond remains calm under mostly sunny skies. Stella the dog guards the campsite from red squirrels and chipmunks while a feeding fish surfaces very close to me. The day is getting well underway. Time to make a solid plan for a paddling adventure! But first a glimpse at our new summer strategy.

Jen follows the campground cancellations closely and has managed to book us some rather substantial Adirondack camping time. We will be spending it between Fish Creek and Rollins Pond. I will need to move the Airstream several times in a roving cycle of days. It’s actually handy as I will use the move days to hit the dumping station and refill the water tank. We scrapped our proposed New England/Canada trip due to circumstances beyond our control. I can’t mention those circumstances here but wanted to emphasize the importance of making quick decisions and landing on our feet. For me it’s all about the importance of using the travel trailer to its fullest potential. Things are flexible and I have the ability to work part time at the Lake Placid Olympic Center Revitalization Project again this summer. So it’s a bit of a free for all as we move forward. Life throws so many unexpected challenges our way and some people seem to get more then others. I hope to find a quiet getaway today where I can reflect and find a place of positivity to move forward. I go to find those things that nature has placed for me to discover. The Adirondacks are becoming a second home to it seems as I spend more and more time here. Camp life is filled with small task and flows with a daily rhythm. Coexistence is a big part of this camp life. Not all neighbors are polite and respectful unfortunately. The water beckons and it’s time to get moving! ✍️

It’s On!

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Spring moves forward with a mixed bag of weather it seems. Super dry in the St. Lawrence valley until recently. The rains followed days of unseasonably hot weather. Hot. Cool. Cold. Hmmm. Just like the days of life. But always moving forward and counting the positive blessings. Task fills the hours and I wonder how I ever managed to keep up prior to retirement. Such thoughts fill these posts. Time the avenger The Pretenders called it. Last post May 7th. A lot has happened!

Camping season came up fast and found me totally behind schedule. A smoked out water heater control board in the Airstream that I blew off since it failed last October. Happy ending to cut that story short! I purchased an American made replacement from Dinosaur and tossed the junk “made in China” one that has plagued so many Airstream owners. After that things ramped up rather smoothly. No leaks in the travel coach fortunately. But I had blown the lines down per specifications. It pays off usually when we follow advice and procedure. Other than cleaning it was ready to roll. So it was back up, hitch, and roll. Well maybe a little more than that! The camping location had been booked months before so it was destination bound. Camping season was off and running! Pretty wild considering that one year ago we were staying in a rented camper! What to say about the drive? A 2022 Ford F-150 Powerboost for a tow vehicle ready to test. 417 ponies out front and only a 2 hour trip to the campsite. No problem!

As far as the details of hitting the campsite? Tested and tried out last season. Easy money on our large Adirondack water site. Backing into the sites has gotten much easier for me with experience. Zane,Jen, and I made short work of it at any rate. Parked under the pines the camper quickly became home. The chores done and a simple dinner consumed it was campfire time! A beautiful night for a fire once the early arriving black flies went to bed. A light breeze and the sounds of the other Happy Campers around the ponds added to the mood of settling into life on the ADK clock as I so often call it. I sat back in my chair under the stars and watched for orbiting satellites. Always a fixture of the modern night sky these days they have become a constant. I think back to the days of my youth and the first time I ever saw one as dawn was breaking over a North Gouverneur sky. We were bringing in my cousin’s dairy herd for morning milking and searching for a new born calf. Decades ago now and the satellites are much more common in the heavens. Change was gradual I suppose.

We hit it hard that first day of camping. Paddling and a little fishing. Super hot and buggy. Unseasonal and intense I soon realized as my uncovered skin burned. Damn! Forgot the sunscreen! The calm water was great for paddling but the dogs Stella and Gracie were frying so it was beach time. We had done two short canoe carries to reach a somewhat remote pond with a nice beach. We chilled for some time and Zane waded in the shallows chasing tadpoles. Not me! This pond of beautiful sand contains large leeches! No thx! We began to notice increasing black clouds and distant thunder so we decided to head back over the carries. Good decision on our part as we soon encountered whitecaps on the bigger lake we needed to cross. We barely made the camp and secured everything before the rains hit with considerable force.We hunkered down in the Airstream and made preparations for dinner while we waited for the storm to pass. Eventually Zane got the campfire going and we cooked a rack of pork ribs over the coals. Yum! Camp life was in full swing! The rains returned and we dined inside while the Honda generator charged our batteries in advance of the night to come. Boondocking keeps us busy at this campground of no hookups.But we were the Happy Campers once again! It was on and in motion with minimal glitches! The weather is unpredictable and part of it all. In our cozy Airstream it causes us no concern as we call it a day and go to sleep! The adventures wait for us to discover them!The spirit energy soars in the exhaustion of memorable days! Morning coffee will seal the deal! Loaded with maple syrup and waiting for the buzz of the new day! More to come of this trip! ✍️

AI or GW?

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It’s been a fast paced blur these past few weeks to say the least! I tapped out a couple posts while on a trip to West Virginia delivering a U-Haul full of furniture and miscellaneous things. At the home where we were staying I would typically find some free time after my morning coffee to begin a rough draft for a post. Honestly, my rough drafts typically remain just that! Coffee infused ramblings that I toss into cyberspace with little regard for editing or loading with carefully controlled correctness. What’s this got to do with nature or natural connections? That’s a question that may remain unanswered for now! Research Pinnacle State Park in West Virginia. I spent a day hiking and exploring the region. Well worth the visit!

It all started with the drive itself as we left for Bluefield,West Virginia the Saturday before Easter Sunday. It had been a whirlwind week. I had been struggling with a warranty issue on my 2021 Ford F-150 truck for over two weeks. The problem was a faulty wiper motor that worked occasionally or not at all. No time in northern New York is a good time not have fully functioning windshield wipers! April is no exception! It seemed that it should have been an easy fix but that was not the case in this particular circumstance! Rather than bore you with the details of the entire situation I will simply say that Ford Motor Corp. and my local dealer wished to continue a business relationship with me. As such, on the morning of our departure I was behind the wheel of a brand new 2022 Ford F-150 Powerboost hybrid. As fine a piece of machinery as I have ever climbed into I must add. I had loved my 2021 so had chosen this one due to its similar features. The hybrid option was a nice upgrade and had sealed the deal with my salesperson at the dealer. The technology was mind numbing with the synch 4 system on board as I would soon learn. Perfectly synched to my phone and music preferences. Voice activated controls that awaited my every beck and call.Why it could practically drive itself! Oh wait! Did I not mention that it almost can accomplish that task? It seems my highly sophisticated truck has a mind of its own. My super smart truck does much of my thinking for me I soon realized as I set the cruise control at a comfortable 63 mph. It keeps itself perfectly in my traffic lane at all times. I can release the steering wheel but it gets irritated after a bit and then eventually scolds me with a slightly annoying tone complete with a visual prompt. It’s was a little unnerving to let it take the corners for me but I began to trust its highly attentive sensors and cameras after a while. Distracted driving? Never! If we (yes the truck and I) came up behind another vehicle a safe distance would be maintained at a constant speed. But the truck is ever cognitive and conscious of my feelings so I am allowed to override everything by hitting the gas or tapping the brakes. I think it wants to keep me happy and content at all times so I don’t pull over and disable its many parameters. It’s a friendly relationship after all. One that we quite literally raced into when we hit the high speed game of interstate travel on I-81 south. But why wouldn’t I be happy? She happily shares the responsibility of my self indulgent driving with Siri. Siri handles the entertainment and navigation functions as well as incoming calls and texts. They seem to work well together these two friends of mine. Siri once got upset when Zane called her stupid so I don’t allow him to insult her anymore. She’s shy though and won’t respond when I tell her that I love her. That’s ok! The miles are many and I can wait for her to come around. Maybe she’s just playing hard to get. And just like that I fall under the comfortable allure of technology. It’s been years in the making I suppose. A little nudge here and a big shove there have brought me to this blissful destination of thought free oblivion. I do get angry with the truck when she slams on the brakes thinking we are about to collide with another vehicle. But she gets upset when I start dodging potholes and asks me to rest. No she doesn’t have a name and I don’t plan on giving her one. That would just be too weird! It’s life in the fast lane circa 2022.

So did the trip go? Safe and uneventful. Lots of music and muses. Driving (rarely riding) on the busy interstates I find myself making many observations and drawing a fair number of conclusions. 12 hours of driving can do that to a person after all. The endless strings of cars,trucks,and tractor trailers. Campers and contractors with heavily laden cargo racks. Military convoys and motorcycles. They all blend together in a metallic blur of potential threats and constant obstacles. The end of the day finds me fried with a nerve state I call the road buzz. No fear though Siri comes through with the destination spot on. Mission accomplished! Cargo delivered intact! The bigger story of interstate travel will need to wait for now.It truly shares a twisted connection to nature. Technology is the name of the game in this story.

Day three of our stay in West Virginia found me introduced to some home security equipment. I had experience with old school hard wire security sensors,cameras,and card swipe systems in a commercial setting but this was something new. Sure I had seen it advertised on television but I pretty much had toned it out. Home security for me is a German Shepherd most of the time. A trip to the a local Bluefield hardware franchise was the ticket to modern security technology. Wi-Fi controlled cameras and doorbells. Wireless sensors for windows and doors. Easy to install with minimal power requirements. I gained some useful knowledge helping getting it all online. The old dog and a bag of new tricks. Do we need them back home?

The final leg of my techno-filled trip involved a short 2 hour drive to Forest, Virginia to visit a cousin of mine. He also just happens to be the man behind the technology that runs and perpetuates this blog! Call him administrator! It’s been a fun project and one that time will evolve into a larger vision. I got to spend some quality time outside with him and his family. They live in a wooded tract of well constructed homes with numerous birds and wandering deer right in their backyard. At night we could hear a coyote chorus from the undeveloped property nearby. We traveled about 50 minutes the Saturday I was there to hike at Crabtree Falls.It’s a beautiful location and a stunning set of falls. It’s a 1.7 mile hike to the top and the views are spectacular.You can find it on the All Trails app. It was a busy location with a steady surge of polite hikers. Parking was challenging and there’s a $3 parking fee. One of the highlights of my visit was talking to my cousin’s boys Andrew and Christian. Tech savvy to the maximum and full of information. We were discussing my blog and my writing techniques when the subject of AI came up. They showed me some interesting websites to visit where the aspiring writer could walk a landscape of perfect grammar and rock solid structure. Feed the AI your thoughts and stand back! Perfectly written like a professional! I found this most intriguing and somewhat alarming at the same time! Does anyone still remember the old Memorex commercials for cassette tapes? “Is it live or is it Memorex?” Something like that. The conversation with Andrew and Christian got rather animated at that point! I began to speculate on the ramifications of AI and how it could be used to “enhance” my posts. To become professional under the invisible shroud of technology sure might sound tempting I explained to them but at what point would my footprints disappear? Would MOONTABS still be me or become some artificial (albeit perfect) version of me? Could AI get it correct? It takes experience and emotion for some stories. It’s important to tell the story in my own words. It’s the backbone of all my work. Rawness in the story follows rawness in nature. That’s the connection. Maybe I will visit Grammarly though just to test the proverbial waters. Perhaps someday it could become yet another techno friend in the truck. Writing the blog while driving by simply speaking. Perfection and purpose together.Will you need to ponder on any given day is it GW or AI? I seriously doubt the best AI can navigate the forests of Taz-mania. This is the new reality for us. It’s a wild ride they once described as future shock. I plan on having some more fun with this subject as I follow where all this leads. I am headed back up to the Adirondacks soon for some disconnected life on the ADK clock. It’s a little overdue.Nature eroded the mountain that became Pinnacle Rock. Will technology erode the essence of creative writing and transform the author’s message? Nature has few shortcuts. That’s a solid place to stand. ✍️

Soundtracks

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It’s been quite a busy stretch these past few weeks with maple syrup season occupying most of my time it seems. We ended up having a successful season despite the up and down weather swings.The reserve taps really paid off and allowed us to maintain an average sap intake right up to the end. We finished our season with the sugar house woodshed almost empty and now in need of a refill. Much of the cleanup has been completed as of this past week so that’s always a relief. Zane and I washed 400 plus buckets in a couple days just one week ago. The evaporator becomes a giant water heater once all the sap is removed from it and supplies all the bucket washing water we need. It’s a boring job that we made better by playing music on a Bluetooth speaker. We enjoyed simple conversations and I told stories about random events that had occurred many years ago. Certain words would trigger song titles and bands. A quick trip to U-tube would bring back songs that I rarely heard anymore but had never forgotten. Zane enjoyed the songs of Nazareth,Thin Lizzy, and Rush just to name a few. The passage of time has not diminished my love of music nor kept me confined to one time period. These days I have evolved into a roving listener of heavy rock sounds coupled with thought provoking rhyming lyrics. I can change stations at will in my vehicles where Siris satellite radio can be replaced by Pandora with ease. Am and Fm radio has been forgotten in my desire to never hear commercials or news broadcasts. Who needs to listen to the weather when it’s only a key stroke away? Why ever listen to the same repetitive music when there are so many new and intriguing songs to sample? I find myself drawn to the indie rock artists quite frequently and really branch out into some new horizons. Music has changed over the years but what has truly changed are my methods of accessing and listening to it. Gone are the portable Am/Fm radios of my youth. Gone are the days of cumbersome portable music players. Gone now the 8-track tapes and cassettes. As are the CDs.We used to lug our players everywhere. I was telling Zane about taking our portable 8-track players on camping trips when I was a teenager. They required the large D cell batteries to power them. On cold nights they drained quickly and we were sometimes forced to place our players close to the campfire to keep them going. This led to some being slightly melted as you might suspect. Fast forward. ( there’s a term for you! ) On the side of our old sugar house there is a simple shelf constructed years ago. It once held the antenna for my portable satellite radio unit. The hours of boiling sap were made more pleasant with the commercial free tunes echoing throughout the sugar house. An inverter connected to an old tractor battery kept it powered and also powered the lighting. I no longer rely on a portable satellite radio unit. These days I use my phone to sync up to a Bluetooth speaker to supply the music when boiling sap. Silence is fine at times in the sugar house with the only music coming from the boiling sap,rising steam clouds, and the crackling of the fire under the evaporator pans.Why such focus on music? Music helps pass the time away when faced with menial task. It can set the pace and fuel the energy. I once enjoyed playing music on the numerous construction sites where I spent much of my time. These days the project managers prohibit music on the job most of the time. Their reasons are flat and rather foolish quite honestly. The ear splitting cacophony of a construction site is far worse than some of the screaming heavy rock I enjoy in my opinion. Good thing I am mostly retired these days. I’d need to go rogue and play my music somehow. About 12 years ago I was working on a barracks project at Fort Drum. Music of any kind was forbidden even ear buds. The repetitious work I was doing forced me to thwart their rules however. I rigged up my tiny iPod in my hard hat and hid my ear bud wire in my hoodie. I was never caught and enjoyed the simple pleasures of music at work. Yesterday I was faced with a long day on the highway. Twelve hours of towing a U-haul to West Virginia. Satellite radio ruled the day once again. I was all over the map in so many ways. But the miles passed behind in a soundtrack of success. The trailer was delivered safely and the objective was completed. The music played the entire time during the trip. There are times when nature plays the ultimate soundtrack. Crying loons and the nighttime chorus of frogs. The crickets of late August as yet another summer speeds onward. The lapping of waves and the wind in the pines above the tent in some remote destination. One doesn’t need the man made music in those moments.I explained once to Zane about the song writer’s potential dilemma. The songwriter has but a few short minutes to tell a story or make their message clear. The writer of novels has much more time. As does the blogger. I can follow my forward progress of gathered years through memory and deed. I can accompany those memories with music from living and listening during those gathered years. I seek to be the creator of lasting impressions. From these short sentences can the reader connect and begin to create their own soundtrack of life? The magic of the rhyming stories that I so love to write (when they show themselves to me)has always been inspired by music and simple lyrics. There is no rhyme nor reason this particular April day. Only the desire to move forward and complete the tasks before me. Short and sweet as they say. It’s MOONTABS In Motion here in West Virginia for a time.

The Annual Run Of The Mill

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The story of logs,logging, and sawmills encompasses several decades of my life in its entirety. It’s important to note though that much of my time in the woods each season was spent harvesting firewood. I burned wood for a good many years after leaving home.All told some 27 years or so overall. I also would help my Father cut wood for the farmhouse in my spare time. We used smaller firewood in the sugar house to fuel the evaporator as well. All that wood cutting kept us rather busy each fall and winter. I have never cared for cutting wood in the summer so typically would take a break in the warmer months. We didn’t own a wood splitter until the fall of 2004 so all our wood was hand split up until then. Big blocks of dead elm were burned without splitting them given their stringy composition. I sometimes used a hammer and metal wedges to split large blocks but usually used an eight pound splitting maul. It was an excellent workout and kept me very fit! Heating with firewood you harvest yourself is a time consuming labor of love. The benefits have always been the draw for me however.For years my cost to heat my home was almost nonexistent. Harvesting the dead trees helped keep the properties cleaner and less unsightly. Coupled with the physical aspect it was a no brainer really! There’s a certain satisfaction in harvesting firewood that can only be found in the experience I have always found. It’s a connection to nature like no other. There’s an independence in not relying on other types of home heating fuels. For years our wood furnaces were located in our homes basements so that meant stacking after throwing it in each time a load was brought home. It would fill the cellar with a certain smell as it dried out depending on the species we were cutting. Burning dry wood was imperative to avoid chimney issues. Chimney cleaning was a part of routine maintenance as was handling ashes and hauling them out of the basement. In 2001 I purchased my first outside boiler system. This would make life a whole lot easier as the mess of bark and ash was kept outdoors. The wood was stacked outside as well. Tarps were handy to keep some of the snow off the piles. Outside boilers brought a greater safety to burning wood as well. No longer were chimney fires a concern. A new era of wood burning was ushered in for me. My Father purchased one shortly after I did and built a woodshed to store his supply of wood. It worked well for him and made things easier overall. We moved to the farm property in 2008 after renovating the farmhouse about a year after my Father’s death in 2007. We continued use his original outside wood boiler for several seasons. New York State pushed to control the use of outside boilers at one point around 2010. New models purchased needed to fall under EPA compliance regulations. I purchased a gasification unit in 2011 to replace the older one at the farm that my Father had installed in 2002. It was a clean burning boiler but required labor intensive cleaning and could only burn super dry firewood. We only used it one winter at the farm before the farmhouse burned. The outside wood boiler was spared luckily. We made the decision to relocate to the small village of Hammond instead of rebuilding at the farm. The house there used fuel oil for heat but I figured out a way to house the outside wood boiler in the large garage and pipe the hot water to the house through an underground thermopex piping system. It was quite the project and a ballsy undertaking as outside wood boilers were not welcome in the village if not entirely banned. I got the project finished before winter and we were once again burning firewood!The gasification unit burned so clean and efficiently that I never had any complaints from anyone in the village. We had added several smoke stack extensions up through the two story garage roof and launched our minimal emissions high into the air. Inside and out of sight the boiler worked well! We trailered in our firewood and stored it under cover in a lean to we build onto the garage.We used the boiler for three winters in Hammond before moving to a new location above Black Lake. The new house we purchased needed a heat source so once again I made the decision to move the boiler! I found a perfect location for it behind the garage there. The big project relocation project was undertaken and completed before winter. It worked well there for five seasons before I began to have serious issues with leaks. Something the manufacturer refused to address properly but that is another story! The house was sold in 2020 and I believe the outside wood boiler was scrapped out. Presently we continue to burn some wood in our cottage wood stove and at the farm. The sugar house still requires its share of firewood each season as well. We also use a small wood stove in the small farm cabin.(we call it “the warming shack”).Most of the firewood we now harvest leaves the farm and is sold to a local customer. My seventeen year old son Zane has been learning the basics of firewood harvesting for years now. I started him out driving the tractor when he was nine. Safely wearing his seatbelt he learned to dump loads of firewood stacked on the tractor loader into the trailer. He enjoyed the task and I felt it helped make a work day fun for him. We would usually take a break and go for a farm walk before heading home to Hammond before dark. Zane continues to learn new skills and has become a huge asset on the landing as we build the loads. He often runs the wood splitter and has begun to learn chainsaw basics. I have hesitated to let him run the chainsaw but I will need to at some point. It’s a dangerous tool and lots can go wrong! It’s a rite of passage for a rural kid though and I once was in his shoes myself. Moving forward I will continue his training and try to insure his safety. I sometimes ponder my fondness of collecting firewood and the time it consumes. I suppose it’s in my blood and given the over abundance of it on the farm presently nowadays it’s not a bad thing. Woodcraft is a skill I want to pay forward to my son as it was paid forward to me. Rural heritage often comes with time consuming menial tasks. But for me there’s a different type of reflection and reward that follows it. The smell of fresh sawdust. The crashing sound of a felled tree. The sight of a finished load of wood next to the warm wood stove. The taste of a simple lunch enjoyed on a break at the farm. The feel of the chainsaw doing it noisy job. The sixth sense emerges as the spirit energy soars into the large skies over the farm property. In simplicity there is peace and a greater understanding of life itself. That is the greatest reward of time and task. Tomorrow we will return to the forest and reap the benefits once again. The evaporator will need the fuel and we must meet its demands. Father and son together.Sharing and making memories. MOONTABS we call them. ✍️

The Turn Of Thoughts

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We approach the middle of February and last night on the long drive home from Lake Placid I had plenty of time to think. My work there is only part time now since December. That’s fine with me because I have more time to write and get caught up on some of the things I let slide. Speaking of time it’s become a frequent subject of discussion with a young coworker of mine on the project. In his late twenties his perception of it is noteworthy given my obsession with it. Despite the differences in our ages we walk common ground when discussing time and how we choose to manage it. We also shared thoughts on memories or lack there of sometimes. The realization that we can’t remember everything and certain things are lost in the haze of busy existence. I exposed him to the blog the other day. I then encouraged him to consider writing private life journals as a way of preserving his own memories. I kept hand written journals for years. (long before the creation of this blog and the very public sharing of my personal life).Just before beginning this post I did a quick review of my previously published titles and content.Time is a reoccurring subject and one I mention rather often. Some of my followers have told me they enjoy the stories of my life on the farm and roaming the forests of Macomb as a boy. For me those stories bring back many memories! I hope to continue to blend the old with the new this year as the seasons bring the different tasks and hobbies into play. A warm stretch of weather these past few days has certainly aided in turning my thoughts to the upcoming syrup season. Mid February does that to me regardless of temperature typically. I begin to consider those activities of winter that must be experienced before syrup season begins or they will need to wait till next winter. That’s a fact of time.There’s a certain energy in the sunshine now that can’t be denied or ignored. Dripping icicles and tiny rivulets of runoff that begin to flow bring a certain expectation to lovers of producing maple syrup. It’s almost that time of year again! I wrote several posts last year about sugaring if you haven’t read them. I will no doubt take a path of redundancy again this spring writing about sugaring. I suppose that I am trying to set a stage of sorts. One where the actors perform a yearly tradition. If asked what my message might be I would have to say that it’s one of the magic of seasonal transition and the power it brings to my now. Something that I have written about many times. Something real that can’t be bottled or sold. Something elemental in its simplicity and interconnected with nature as only certain experiences can be. If this seems like my same old story it’s because it is! There is a solid positive energy in traditional hobby and task. In a world of ever changing circumstances there is comfort in the approach of sugaring. Predictable to a degree yet still very variable. As I enter the forest as part of a daily routine I will find peace there despite the physical challenges the weather may bring. Or the challenges of life itself. I learned this fact of time most painfully once. The year 2007 was to be the final syrup season that I would share with my father although I didn’t know it at the start. I was busy with balancing the realities of time. A household, a young son, and my barn wood salvage business. Being able to help my father with the annual syrup season was a big part of why I wanted to be self employed in the first place. It was a time thing make no mistake of it. I temporarily left construction suddenly in March of 2006 after becoming ill with a double lung infection from breathing fire proofing all winter on an inside project. The year from March 2006 to March 2007 was a year that I will never forget! Freedom and a new lifestyle where I chased a dream of controlling time. I had done it! Taken control of time! But life is never that simple it seems. That year changed me though. So many great memories and then those I would like to forget. My father began to have some changes in health in the winter of 2007. It started with some strange accidents and memory quirks at times. But things were pretty normal for the most part. We tapped trees in mid March as was our custom but my father was not feeling all that great and went to his doctor. He underwent some tests soon after.He was fearful of dementia he told me one day while we were working together. His sudden changes in mental state were a concern. And then the fateful day. I was boiling sap in the evaporator and could see him walking towards the sugar house. He seemed bent over and I knew something wasn’t quite right. He stepped into the sugar house and we exchanged some simple banter about the quality of the syrup or subjects of that nature. He surprised me suddenly with an sudden outburst. “ I have good news! I don’t have Alzheimer’s! But I do have brain tumors. Two of them on one side of my head.They don’t know much more than that right now.” To this day I can’t remember what I said to him then. But I will never forget my sudden thoughts. I knew at that moment that we would be losing our father. Me a trusted friend. My son his grandfather. I know it sounds very negative but I was being painfully honest with myself. There were times in the coming weeks when I would be hopeful and positive. The doctors would operate and cure him we prayed. But lose him we did by the middle of June. To honor him I wrote my first ever rhyming story “For Pop”-A son’s story of life. And just like that, the aspiring writer in me began to evolve. Why do I share such a sad personal story? Because of time. It is not certain and not without circumstances. It is not guaranteed. I am forever thankful for whatever force told me to become self employed in 2006. The time that I shared with my father that year and into 2007 cannot be altered by any circumstances.It was carved out with deed not words of wishful thinking. I ultimately returned to construction for another 10 years but never again questioned my drive to manipulate time itself. As for what followed in 2009 when cancer was found in my body?Life would take on new meaning and purpose. Time would be on my side throughout that fateful journey. As in “they found my cancer in time to rid my body of it”. And in these moments of my present now I know of several who wrestle greatly with time and much more.Just how much remains for them? A stark reality for all who love them.All this may seem dark and cloudy in the face of a large storm. I apologize. It is not dark to me. It is just very real that’s all. Immortality is not a gift of natural world nor should it be considered.Acknowledging our own mortality need not be dark or foreboding . It’s rather the opposite really. It’s that chance for us to truly reflect on our choices for today and for tomorrow. How best to spend our time and are we happy with our choices. It’s about saying why not do that? Why wait? Why not take that vacation or visit that person? There’s not always a clear path in front of us. It’s not always easy to make the best choices or recognize them as the best ones. For me the answers may be found staying in motion I have decided. Chasing the seasons of nature and finding the magic hidden in each one of them. For time and love are greatly connected I feel. That’s a tough one to explain. If you took the time to read this far thank you! After all I took the time to write it for you! I promise a fun story soon! I simply ask you to reflect on time today and find the small blessings that surround you. ✍️