The Icewalker’s Resolve

Posted on February 27, 2026February 27, 2026 by Greg Washburn

It’s very close to the end of February now and winter is finally showing signs of releasing some of its icy embrace. But not quite yet. The amount of snow we have reminds me of this time last year when I was wading through deep snow building tubing tap runs for sap. Sugaring is coming fast now and I have done a little prep work getting ready but nothing as serious as this time in 2025. There’s been some other activities to keep me occupied.

Last week I helped cut and get logs skidded out for my friend Mike. AKA: Mike The Mechanic. He’s agreed to attempt to repair an issue that I have with the tractor. I decided that helping get his logs out from the small logging over in a section of my uncles woods was a nice way to help him out. Not to mention being fun for me. His crew had downed a bunch of white pine and started trimming them to be skidded out. So I spend 3 days limbing trees, cutting a few, and hitching the winch cable from the tractor to the logs to get them out. It was tough work but something I truly enjoyed. A throwback to the days when I used to log with my dad years ago. Each day, I left the woods tired but with a sense of accomplishment. I also felt a twinge of remorse for the fallen giants of the forest and the damage to the understory below. The collateral damage I call it. But the grove of pine trees were beginning to die off some. Several showed evidence of the fungal infection called “red rot”. And others were being attacked by woodpeckers hunting for insects. All signs that a harvest would be beneficial and would be the best management strategy for the forest in the long run. We did quite of work in those 3 days and I enjoyed the time working with my uncles outside.

Uncle Art skidding a long white pine log.

Before the logging work, I went snowshoeing with friend Scott “Polar” Force on the state land of Lonesome Bay state forest near his place by Black Lake. It was quite the adventure! The afternoon started sunny and warm for us as we followed a broke in snowmobile trail towards our destination. I was soon down to my tee shirt!

Our destination was a high, island like, projection that rises from the swamps of the Black Creek swamp system. Zane and I discovered it years ago while hunting geocaches. There’s a swamp to cross before you reach a remarkable cantilevered ledge that hangs out into space above the soft maple swamp below. I had bragged to Scott about wanting to show it to him. Time was limited so February was the only chance we would get to trek there. I knew that the deep snow was going to be a problem but figured with two of us taking turns breaking trail after leaving the snowmobile trail, that it was doable. Well let’s just say that we got our adventure alright! We even got a bit of swamp ice walking in on the way to the ledge. I got us a little off track getting there. I hadn’t been there since 2018. We ended up putting on some extra distance under rather challenging snowshoeing conditions. Oops!

We finally reached the ledge in late afternoon. The sun had gone under and we were quickly running out of energy. I was afraid that I would not find the ledge but eventually we did. Getting out onto it was problematic as there’s a crevice that separates it from the main ridge. A little spooky actually! But out on the ledge from the high vantage point, it was totally worth the energy it had taken to get there! But we still had some distance to cover to return to the truck. Backtracking was not a good option as it would take us way out of our way. So it was a bush wack out breaking trail experience. One that beat both of us up severely. It was full on “zombie mode” getting back to the truck. But we had made the trip successfully! We celebrated with hot venison tenderloin sandwiches for dinner! Yum!

Last Saturday we decided to trek to the Ice Falls finally. Late February is usually a good time because if you wait too long the ice may not be there long in March. It’s a gamble and sugaring leaves little time for a trek. After my recent trip down on the ice of the big creek, I knew that Saturday’s trip would be challenging but was totally possible. But conditions had changed since I had been there. We would later find that out! Our group consisted of myself, Zane, Scott Polar Force, and Patrick Bourcy. Gracie also. She had managed the previous trek so I wasn’t worried about her.

We set out just after 11am under cloudy, cool skies with a brisk north breeze hitting us in the face as we hitched up our snowshoes. The trail from my previous trip was ok at first but soon became very slushy. Not good at all! Breaking a new trail wasn’t much easier but we kept up a slow and steady pace headed downstream, dodging wet spots and even some shallow, open water. We skirted an open breach in a beaver dam where the beaver had been out feeding on fresh brush. So far, no one had broken through. It was tough going in the slushy conditions but we were determined to make it to the Ice Falls. Despite the tough snowshoeing, I was happy to be exploring the gorge once again!

We eventually reached the first set of Ice Falls and they were totally worth the trip! We climbed up behind them like energetic children, laughing and taking lots of photos. The second set was equally amazing and we climbed up to them as well. Everyone was having a great time! I fell coming down from the second Ice Falls and face planted in the deep snow! Everyone got a good laugh over that especially Patrick! But I got the last laugh when he broke through a thin spot and soaked his leg filling his boot with water. He tried a shortcut it seems. Not so good actually! It happens!

We trekked down to Ice Falls Set 3 and they were impressive but we decided not to climb up to them. We still needed to trek our way back out. A journey of close to 2 miles although I always thought it was shorter. Everyone had a red face from the wind burn and people were beginning to tire some. Zane was cold and ran out head of us although I thought we should stick together. And the slush began to take its toll on our tiring legs. I started calling it Hell Slush after that. We sure were glad to reach the hard surface of the road! Zane actually soaked one of his legs on the way out it seems. I noticed where he broke through in a shallow spot.

Back at the cozy cabin, everyone hunkered down close to the wood stove while I fried up some walleye outside. Beans,potatoes, and pumpkin pie for dessert rounded out the bush fare meal. We were sharing stories about the adventure and life in general. We had made a successful ice walking adventure come true under rather tough conditions. But we quickly forget about the hardships when we look back later at our photos and reflect on the moments.

We certainly know to respect the Icewalker’s Motto: The distance in, must be traveled out. A favorite quote of my creation years ago. Easy to say but not so easy to do sometimes. We like the challenges and adversity I feel. It brings something to an outing. Those moments when you look back at where you have just finished exploring as late afternoon ushers in the coming evening while the cold breeze nips at your face. You realize your frail nature and smallness in the face of nature. Your body would not easily survive a night out on the frozen surface of the swamp. The need to get out becomes real and very primordial then for me. That’s a big part of the experience for me. Something I chase. Something I have always chased even when I didn’t realize it. It’s something that touches my inner spirit in some strange way. An Icewalker’s gift from nature perhaps. But any location out in nature can gift something similar really. But the ice under your feet that holds you over the freezing water below, is something more. A flat path of quick travel at times or a slow, cautious push forward to hard reach destinations. This truly describes the annual Ice Falls trek I believe. Never the same experience although the location remains the same. Different ice below you and different ice hanging above you.

For me an ice walk is meditation through my feet. Step lightly with reflexes tuned in to the slightest movement or cracking sound. Tapping on the surface with my beaver stick trekking poles , probing like a blind person for hidden dangers. It’s something like that only much deeper. I never grow tired of sharing it. It is enough. ✍️

Hunting Away The Gathering Days: Autumn 2025

Posted on December 18, 2025December 18, 2025 by Greg Washburn

Winter solstice is but a few days away but we’ve been having winter weather for some time now. Our first snow in Macomb was around November 16th. There’s been lots of snow up in Santa Clara and the Adirondacks in general this autumn. Now that it’s mid December, the snow doesn’t seem like anything but fairly normal. A cold snap brought some recent single digit weather and even some negative temperatures. -8 degrees in Santa Clara one night! Brrr!

Hunting season went by quicker than expected and we never saw any bucks during rifle season. I sat in the different tree stands we had built but not even any does ever came close. The deer seemed to move about a lot. Some nights there would be a couple in the meadow by the barn after dark. Zane hunted some during rifle season but didn’t see anything either. I still hunted some as well. Wandering around helped me try to figure out where the deer were staying.

We got a pop up hunting blind to use in areas where we had no tree stands. We used it some but I think it’s a little better suited to early season hunting. We never saw any deer while sitting in it. I sat in it one evening as we got hit by some heavy freezing rain. It was nice to be out of that! I later moved it to a new spot right before the season ended but never saw anything there either. We will experiment with it more next year. It’s got potential.

As we got closer to the end of rifle season, Zane and I did some deer drives. We pushed out a few deer but neither of us got a shot. Some fresh snow the final weekend of rifle made for some decent tracking conditions. That was fun! It was easy to identify where the deer were moving.

The weather turned pretty crappy the final weekend of rifle season and the snow was starting to add up. I wandered around some in the wind and snow hoping to get lucky. It was not to be. But we still had late muzzleloader season for one week to try and fill unused tags. It had turned rather cold and there were many flocks of geese suddenly moving south. You could easily spot several flocks at any given time for a couple days. It was obvious that things were moving closer to winter.

During all this time I was busy getting some wood cut and cleaning up some fallen die off maples that kept dropping limbs into the meadow below the Gap Ridge. They were a bit of an eyesore from the cabin windows and I was tired of looking at them. Not to mention that there was some nice dead red elm to cut in the same area. I decided to make a small landing on the edge of the meadow after cutting down the brush that had overtaken the old fence row. I built a large brush pile and added sections of rotten maple logs to it using the tractor. I had a great fire one night and kept it going for a couple days. Fire is the best way to ditch old logs and brush.

I had done something similar once near that location and had called my work “Operation Burn Clear”. It’s a good title for some goals Zane and I have for reclaiming the meadow edges. It’s going to take some time that’s for sure.

Gathering firewood is never a wasted effort and we always end up needing it. I have gone through quite a bit of firewood in the cabin this fall actually. I have brought a few loads of wood to Amy’s this fall. There’s a wood stove and a wood boiler in the basement so it has been a nice complement to the 25 cord that came with the house back in September. I usually top off my supply in the cabin when I’m getting a truck load of wood cut up. I like the smaller pieces of super dry red elm for the small wood stove that heats it.

There’s no shortage of dead trees on the farm to attempt to get cleaned up. I don’t think we could get caught up unless we started using much more. So it’s pick and choose for the best ascetics. After the burn bans of the spring,summer, and early fall, it was nice to be able to burn.

I was lucky to get a load of wood cut and hauled before last week’s big snow storm that started Tuesday and went into Wednesday. By Thursday I needed to plow the driveway out at the farm for the first time this fall. There was so much snow that the Honda utv could barely plow through. Luckily I had some previous trails to follow in the prior snow that I managed to reopen. Good thing it has four wheel drive! I tooled around looking for deer sign but it was absent near the barn and up beyond the Gap Ridge. NP. I’d go try somewhere else.

I got my muzzleloader out and fired a couple primers to temper the barrel before loading it. I didn’t fire it as I didn’t want to dirty the barrel. Something I would live to regret! I sat last that night up in the hunting blind after spinning the way up into the woods with the Honda to reach a place to park nearby. It was bitter cold and there were no fresh deer tracks anywhere near. It was time for a new strategy I decided. On Friday I would press hard for “The Mountain”. It would be difficult with almost knee deep snow but the deer had been hanging around in the meadows near the base of it. The plan was simple: wade the deep snow slowly and hit the high ledges for the view if nothing else. It’s something I like to do usually,minus the deep snow. It was the best idea that I could come up and what I had been trying hadn’t worked to date.Time was running out! Deer season closed at sunset on Sunday night!

Friday dawned cold and clear with mostly clear, cerulean skies. As the sun climbed higher so did the temperature. It was a fine day for hunting! Much better than other recent ones of falling rain,snow, and blowing winds. The plan was simple. Carry a survival pack with food,water, fire starting kit, knife, etc. plus extra speed loaders for the gun. They are super handy as they contain everything you need to unload for one shot. I also would wear micro spikes for better traction after a test proved that they were fairly silent in the deep snow. I chose a mid morning start to give myself plenty of time before dark to complete my trek.

I walked the road until I reached the state land that would lead me to the Mountain. If you follow my writing then you know about the high rocky ridge that sits above Beaver Creek is what the Washburn family calls “The Mountain”. It is the highest place around and a great place to catch a view of the surrounding countryside. And sometimes there are deer to be found! Although I have never bagged one while hunting there.

It was difficult walking in the deep snow but I took my time. Falling with the gun would be bad anytime but worse in the snow. Luckily my muzzleloader has a nice sling so I put it over my neck so my hands were free. This helped me wade up to the first rocky outcropping that I had named “ The Low Point” many years ago. There’s a great view of the farm meadows there and even our big red barn is visible. I hung out for a bit to catch my breath and enjoyed the somewhat panoramic vista. Well worth the effort to get there!

I left the Low Point and made my way towards my next destination the “Mid Point”. It’s another great viewing area also with mostly panoramic sights in all directions. It was the destination Zane and I chose last Xmas Eve for our celebration fire. We hope to return this Xmas Eve to continue our newest adventure tradition for year three. The first year we had our fire at the Low Point. These experiences may be in an old blog post. If not then I had better write one!

While walking towards the Mid Point I came across a single set of partially snowed in deer tracks. Not terribly exciting really. But encouraging to a degree. Up on the Mid Point I once again caught my breath and enjoyed the views. Off to the east of where I stood, I saw what looked like deer tracks so I went to investigate slowly and quietly in the deep powder snow. I moved almost ghostlike I felt. I held my muzzleloader in my hands when I reached the tracks and realized that they were very fresh! But where were the deer?

I moved towards the edge of a ledge to get a better look. I could see deer tracks below me. A flash of movement caught my eye and a deer came into sight from the left of me. Unbelievably close! A mere 30’ away! And I suddenly realized it was a buck! It stopped and turned towards me but it was like I was invisible. Time seemed to stand still as I stood unmoving from my high tactical advantage point.The buck turned and continued walked parallel a long a flat section of another ledge below me. I popped my scope lenses cover and pulled back my hammer just in time as the buck stopped for a second. He was in my crosshairs just 40’ from me when I pulled the trigger. What happened next played out in slow motion but not for long!

When I pulled the trigger my muzzleloader made a fizzling sound like a dud Roman candle instead of the loud bang I expected. There was a tiny puff of smoke and no recoil. The sound alerted the buck and he ran down the face of the ledge with mighty leaps and gave a couple warning snorts to his companions. Doe’s from his harem I believe but I never saw them.

I stood in shock and total disbelief! Disappointment washed over me like a wave. A misfire had happened apparently. But was my weapon clear? I quickly pulled my breach plug to find that my projectile had left the barrel. But with what velocity was the question. Had I wounded the buck after all? I made my way down to where I had last seen him but there was no blood anywhere. Not a drop. Now I was super disappointed. I had waited for this moment the entire season. Now it was gone because of equipment failure. Damp powder pellets were my best guess. Perhaps the result of condensation. I regretted not firing my gun that morning for a test shot. It would have dried the barrel and had it not fired properly I would have known. Damn the bad luck I thought as I trudged back to the cabin feeling rather defeated.

Back at the cabin I played the events over and over again in my mind. I discharged my muzzleloader and it worked perfectly. I decided to take the Honda up to retrieve the hunting blind while I decided my next strategy. I would take my gun of course. Just in case.

I got the hunting blind folded up and loaded into the Honda and started back down the trail. I had noticed some deer tracks on the way in so I slowed down to study them. There is a long valley that I could see down at one point on my way out. And suddenly I spotted a deer! It was lying down actually. Totally brown and visible on the bright,white snow. I didn’t stop the Honda but kept going down the trail to where a ridge hid the valley from view. I left the wheeler running, grabbed my gun, and creep up over the ridge. I spotted a second deer lying down but my angle was wrong. I stalked my way up the ridge a second time further down and suddenly spotted a third deer. I inched a little closer and decided that I could make the shot at the newest deer that I had spotted. A big doe but my tag was good for that. I might never get a better chance than this. I fired.

My gun performed flawlessly. The deer didn’t run and I knew right off that I had made a kill shot. For that I was grateful. And just like that my luck had changed. I still felt bad about missing the buck. ( did I really miss him in a sense?) I walked up on my fallen prey and thanked her for her sacrifice. I felt blessed for good eyesight and steady hands. And there was that moment of sadness that comes when killing a deer. But there was work to do and it was turning colder even though it was only 3 pm!

I had trouble loading the big doe even after field dressing her. With the help of a rope I got her into the back of the Honda finally. Back at the farm I hoisted her up in the warehouse and made ready to cut her up. It was getting late so I needed to set up the generator for lights. Zane came over to help and eventually the deer was skinned,trimmed, and quartered into our large cooler. The end to a day of ups and downs. But my deer hunting season was over just like that. And I took catch my breath again. My deer wouldn’t get the chance to freeze solid during the super cold night. I had made that mistake years ago once. Never again if I can help it!

So this week I have been cutting up the deer and packaging it. I made over 30 lbs of venison burger from my big doe. We are in good shape for the winter months to come. Venison, walleye, and some morel mushrooms in the freezer. Hunting deer was something that I had given up for quite a few years actually. But I am glad that Zane got me interested in taking it back up again. It’s been quite the fall! Lots of great memories and lessons to be learned. And we sure are enjoying all the wonderful lean meat that’s super healthy!

Hunting and gathering are a big part of my rural heritage lifestyle. I’m excited to be sharing this with Zane. We have big plans for next season already! Until then we wait for what comes next. Winter will bring new adventures and new opportunities. Challenges and fun times. And maple syrup season is never too far from my thoughts. I will sit by the wood stove and enjoy maple syrup infused coffee while pondering it all. I will listen and see where my spirit energy leads me. And we’ll enjoy meals from our successful harvests from the bounties of nature. We truly are connected. And for that we are forever grateful with most humble thanks! MOONTABS! ✍️

The Salvation Of The Beaver: Part 2

Posted on November 12, 2025November 12, 2025 by Greg Washburn

The camping trip to Lac Sairs in Quebec has reached noon of the second day. Gracie and I have returned to TP Island to have lunch and regroup. We have two main priorities to achieve: a simple canoe anchor and firewood for our evening campfire.

It had turned out to be a beautiful day with mostly sunny skies. Warm and not too windy. Just as I finished lunch and was relaxing in the sun, a group of three canoeists stopped by to visit the island. They were creating a photo tour guide for a tour guiding paddle business they worked for in Ville Marie. Ville Marie sits above the Temiscaming region to the north about an hour away. While they were there the wind picked up and I watched them struggle up the lake towards the creek inlet that would bring them to a stashed vehicle at the Lac Charette launch. Tough going for them as they had heavily laden canoes full of camping gear in nice dry sack bags. Eventually they entered the creek and disappeared from sight.

I set about making an anchor for the canoe. But not just any anchor. My anchor would be more like a crib. I would set it in place and leave it temporarily only connecting to it when I needed it. In the shallows of the rift I could position it so I could anchor the canoe just past the drop off in the current. The plan involved an old washing machine drum that someone had dragged out to TP Island for some unknown reason. Filled with rocks it would make an excellent crib for anchoring the canoe! All I needed was some extra rope to get the canoe out into deeper water.But people had left some on the island also. On the sandy island rocks were scarce but I managed to find enough to weight the drum down. Getting out to the Rift and setting the anchor was challenging but I managed to get it done. I tested my new creation and was pleased to find it fully functional. Now to get after the firewood!

I decided to head up the river towards the beaver lodges in search of firewood. I found some decent birch bark on some dead trees in one spot but the steep bank made for hard gathering. I kept going looking for easier access. Near a somewhat high and dry beaver house that looking like it might still be occupied, I found a great selection of old dry beaver sticks of various sizes. I got busy with my bow saw and loaded up the canoe with everything I find. Bless those beaver I thought! This is great! A far cry from my attitude the day before as it turned out. I decided that I had enough wood for the night and headed back to the island. I was grateful for the beaver and their gifts of dry firewood. I have collected beaver sticks and beaver firewood many times over the years. I truly do share a special connection with them. Thus damnation was salvation in a twist of fate.

As I neared the island I realized that it was going to be difficult to haul all that wood up across the beach to the fire ring. It was windy up there also. Down closer to the water was another old fire ring out of the wind. An idea came to me then. Why not have my evening fire down closer to the canoe and the supply of wood? So I spruced up the fire ring into a three sided one with a higher back to reflect some of the heat back. I had my folding chair so a comfortable spot would be easy to find next to the fire.

As I moved around on the sand I noticed how much the sun had warmed it. And how soft the deep layers of it felt. An idea came to me suddenly! Since there were no biting insects why not sleep right on the beach next to the fire? Someone had abandoned a torn sleeping bag on the island and it was tangled up in one of the clothes lines they had left. It seemed clean enough after being rained on several times recently. It would make a great mattress after I put my tarp over it. I put things together and tested out my new mattress. Perfect! Way better than the hard ground inside the tent. I was excited about spending the night on the beach! I set my mattress away from the fire ring to use later and got ready for the evening fish. But first I took a quick bath in the lake and washed my hair. I felt so much better after that even though it was chilly.

Fishing started out slow at the Rift but my anchor worked great! Eventually I started getting bites and was getting excited about catching a walleye. I hooked a biter and as I got it to the surface I realized that it was a bullhead not a walleye. I moved around some near the Rift but all I caught was several more bullhead. I decided to head in and enjoy some campfire time. The walleye fishing was proving to be a little difficult unfortunately. And there weren’t many fish showing up on the fish finder. Fishing is great but it’s not everything for every moment. I would try again in the morning.

Back at the beach I scrounged up some additional firewood around the island and picked up more garbage also. I had collected quite a bit of miscellaneous garbage to haul out with me by this time. Some super dry TP was skewered and later tossed into the fire. I was tired of looking at it. I started the fire and settled in to relax.

I decided to keep dinner simple and opted for a Mountain House freeze dried meal in a pouch. All that’s needed is some boiling water and some stirring. The entrees aren’t all that bad really and super fast to make. The rocket stove makes quick work of boiling the water. I enjoyed a beef stew with veggies while Gracie had her canned dog food. Dessert was dried fruit.

It was a lovely evening and the wind died down as the sun set. It had cooled down some and the sky had cleared of clouds. Stars began to appear and nighttime came in earnest. It’s that time of day when I realize that I am committed to staying another night. Leaving in the dark would be not be impossible but certainly difficult. It’s a strange thing that I often consider when I place myself in such positions. Not based on fear but something different. It’s connected to the survival outside the normals for me. Life is very different when out camping as most campers will probably agree. The tasks. The chores. Most everything we do is done differently. As are our shelters that we use. My decision to sleep out in the open was part of something bigger for me. I hadn’t done it in years actually. Sleeping outside around the farm property these days would likely lead to one or more blood sucking ticks being imbedded on your body. I hadn’t even seen a tick in Quebec so it was a gamble that I was willing to take. By the fire I accepted the coming of night and all it represented after my busy day. The fire was great and I had found a piece of pine resin stump to burn. Bright, smoky, and deliciously fragrant from the pine pitch concentrated within the roots. My favorite!

Around the lake the loons called from various locations. Ducks came into the shallows nearby to feed for the night but were spooked by my presence. Overhead some geese were headed south I presumed. Fall was approaching and it was in the air as the heat of the day left the sand. The receded beaches smelled of wet sand and organic vegetation in the night air. I grew tired and set up my mattress bed as close to the fire as I dared. The stars came out in full force but the moon rise would eventually overtake them to a degree. I lay on my back and began counting orbiting satellites overhead. I was amazed at the number I saw before the moonlight made them hard to spot. Technology is difficult to escape even if we want to these days. And I wondered if any of the satellites I saw were part of the group that my Iridium 3 satellite phone communicates with when I use it in the back bush country. My thoughts turned to home and everyone there far so from me. But I didn’t call anyone. I was pretty content in the now moment. I threw on the last of the wood and drifted off to sleep with Gracie curled up nearby.

Morning came early with a wet, heavy mist covering everything. I was reluctant to leave my warm sleeping bag but eventually did to get some coffee brewing. The sun was trying to burn through the mist but it was going to take some time. After coffee I went out to the Rift to fish. I managed to catch 2 walleye. A keeper and a throwback. I went back to camp for brunch then cleaned my keeper fish to take with me. I still had plenty of ice in my cooler. Getting packed up took some time but I got it done eventually. I set out across mostly calm water and reached the safety of the creek. But let’s not forget about those beaver dams! I ended up having to get out and pull the canoe across all three. The last and biggest one was almost too much for me. I made Gracie get out and take to the shore. I struggled across it after some rigorous tugging and picked up a rather anxious Gracie who swam after me even though she could have just waited.

Back at the truck we loaded up under cloudy skies and headed back to home base ahead of the rain that came later. I began to research for any information that I could find out about the mine on the island in Lac Sairs. But first I had used an app to identify my rocks. My green rocks were amazonite I soon learned. From there my research began to gather some momentum. I later learned that the island I visited is a premier site for finding amazonite in Canada! One of only two locations. I had stumbled onto something by accident! I then learned that amazonite is a mineral know for its healing properties according to some people. Valuable in larger pieces and sought after by rock hounds. I found references to an article from 1965 about amazonite prospecting on the island but not many other details. And I suddenly realized that I had never made even a remote connection to the name of the island when looking at maps of Lac Sairs. The island is named “Ile de l’Amazonite”. Of course at the time that would have meant nothing to me. Now it’s obvious! Further research is necessary to better understand the history of the island mine.

In the picture you can clearly see the island that I visited. And directly above is TP Island and the Kipawa River I paddled. The Rift however is very different in the picture. Flooded and very different than what I experienced.

I left Canada shortly after returning from my camping trip with the Airstream in tow. I had enjoyed a memorable time exploring and fishing the Quebec bush country. There are other stories to tell of my experiences and adventures in Quebec. I hope to get them told at some point. One things for certain though. I hope to return to Amazonite Island with Zane to prospect more. And make the journey up to the Turner Chute to see the waterfalls. And maybe even camp at TP Island if it’s not to contaminated. Who can say for sure when that will be or how many other cool destinations are waiting for us out there? I have another lead on another mining location near Temiscaming. Time will tell. ✍️

The Salvation Of The Beaver:Part 1

Posted on November 11, 2025November 12, 2025 by Greg Washburn

A rather chilly day here in Santa Clara as last night’s wet snow continues to melt. I completed a few small projects this morning so I figured it was a great time to share some recent experiences and follow up with part two of a story that I wrote a couple months ago.

If you read my last post then you know that hunting has been occupying some of our time lately. We haven’t had any luck coming across any bucks but continue to see a few does. We have added a couple tree stand locations to our hunting strategy.Simple affairs that provide absolutely no shelter from the elements. Getting off the ground is totally beneficial. Last Sunday afternoon as I sat watch in a chair while scouting a new location, a deer spotted me soon after walking within sight. Busted! The doe didn’t get too excited but she did wander off in the opposite direction. Hiding behind a tree wasn’t enough it seems. I was too obvious it became apparent.

One of our simple tree stands before camo netting was added.

Autumn rain and winds have removed most of the leaves now around the farm property. I have spent some time clearing out sections of our old tractor roads lately. Totally overgrown with weeds and berry bushes not to mention fallen trees. What a mess! I also cleared out a bunch of invasive wild honeysuckles in several areas. The “ battle of evermore” I call it, borrowing the name of an old Led Zeppelin song. The title of a post of mine years ago actually. Zane and I have been discussing a long term strategy for maintaining the farm property. It’s going to take some time and effort but past efforts have yielded modest success. Various small clearings exist where the invasives once held dominion. Much still needs to be done.

It seems like it was a very long time ago that I was in Quebec fishing and exploring. I suppose the change of season has something to do with it. There have been quite a few different tasks completed since I returned home actually. But never enough, it can feel like on occasion. Getting back into hunting was a good choice and I remain committed to creating a nice hunting preserve on the farm Homestead. Trails, trees, and time. Perhaps the title of a future post?

I go down to the St. Regis River here to see what a beaver has been doing since discovering it was living so close back in September. It’s a short trail to get to the river that I have cleaned out some for walking. Some of it was an old road once but it’s almost unrecognizable as such. From the top of once was an old bridge foundation, there’s an excellent view of the river. Off to the right sits an old beaver lodge that a beaver has taken over in the past few months. At the moment it has been extensively repaired as the beaver prepares for winter. I say beaver in a singular sense as I have sat by the river several times until dark and have only seen one. There could be another I suppose but based on the size of the winter brush pile that the beaver has accumulated next to the lodge I estimate only one. The brush pile is small if there are actually two beaver. I sometimes cut some small poplar near the house and leave them as offerings for the beaver. They always disappear along with brush I cut from the trail. Handy for both of us! Going to the river is quick and easy for me. It’s a nice respite when there’s not time for a longer jaunt.

Watching the beaver activity here makes me think about my camping trip in Quebec that inspired the post “The Damnation Of The Beaver”. I certainly got peeved at the beaver on my journey into the lake on our two day camping trip! If you read that story then you know that I left the story as I went to bed on my first night at Lac Sairs. Out of firewood and wondering what to do to solve that problem the next day. TP Island had its downsides besides toilet paper left all over the place! But I was committed to staying another night.Consider reading that post if you haven’t if any of this is vague. That should fill in more blanks. I now rejoin the story as I wake from my first night of camping at Lac Sairs.

Morning came after a somewhat restless night and I was very sore from sleeping in the tent with no air mattress. No pillows either. Something that never bothered me years ago. I didn’t need a fire to make coffee as I had brought my butane rocket stove. It works well for cooking too. After coffee and morning camp chores, I headed to the rift drop off to try for walleye. I only got one small one though. After trying fishing for a while longer without any luck,I decided it was time to decide how to spend the day. After my rough night on the hard ground I wasn’t feeling up to my original plan of portaging the river rapids and trying for the Turner Chute. Something seemed off about the idea anyway. I can’t say for certain what was causing the misgivings. Something was creeping me out about the whole expedition. I was kind of torn about it but in the end I listened to my sixth sense. I decided to table the adventure until I had someone else with me some other time. My body wasn’t up for it at any rate so I followed my gut instincts.I wouldn’t be reaching the falls in 2025 unfortunately.

After some late breakfast I decided to paddle down the lake to explore a couple distant islands. The lake was fairly calm and I knew that my upper body could handle the trip no problem. Lugging Gracie around has its pros and cons. Her weight holds the front of the canoe down nicely. Handy when it’s windy. But 85 pounds in the front is a dead weight to paddle around when you need to paddle into the wind.

I tried more fishing but it was a bust. The fish finder indicated that the bigger section of the lake was rather deep. 30’ plus in most spots. I bypassed the first island and approached the high ridge of the second one nearby. It was high,rocky, and covered with pines and a mix of hardwoods. I figured that there might be some good firewood to be found. We were going to need some or have an evening without one.

As we rounded the curve of the island, I noticed a nice beach landing where there was an unoccupied campsite. There was a lower fire ring closer to the beach and a higher one up in the woods. There was a small amount of garbage laying around but much less TP than on TP Island. People were being a little more considerate here. There was a small pile of cut firewood near one of the fire rings that I decided to load into the canoe. Plunder of a sort. I bagged up some garbage to take out as a trade. There was an old fuel tank from some unknown vehicle or something laying in the rocks near the beach. Oddly out of place I thought. I had time so I decided to scout the island more.

Near the beach there was a trail headed up to the ridge. It was well worn and obviously used frequently. I hadn’t ventured far up the trail when I noticed that some rock piles looked man made. Further investigation revealed excavations and evidence of some simple mining. There were some interesting green rocks laying around and I put several nice pieces in my pocket. The green mineral deposits were in the face of the excavation running in what appeared to be veins. Interesting! What was all this about? I certainly hadn’t expected to find anything like this on a remote Quebec lake in the ZEC territories! But things were about to get even more interesting!

Further up the ridge there were other excavations hidden in the trees. I spotted something lower down in the trees and went to check it out. What I found surprised me! It was an old abandoned air compressor. The type used to run jackhammers and rock drills. Someone had been seriously mining on a small scale here! But why had they abandoned the air compressor? It must have been a costly piece of equipment to get out to the island in the first place.

I was perplexed by the green rocks and finding the air compressor really got me thinking. There was more to all of this than I was seeing. At this point I was happy that I had abandoned my quest for the Turner Chute. I had been led to the island to discover something different. Spirit energy can nudge us at times. That’s what I chose to believe anyway. Gracie and I left the island with the wind picking up some making for some tougher paddling. But we eventually arrived back at TP Island after stopping to investigate another campsite near the mouth of the river near the rift. We were needing an anchor to better fish The Rift and I had an idea. And we still needed firewood for the evening. But it had been a great morning and I felt that the island mine had been a noteworthy discovery! ( to be continued) ✍️

Rifles And Knives

Posted on October 22, 2025October 22, 2025 by Greg Washburn

Lots of new activities since my last post. Autumn has advanced quickly and most of the leaves are gone or soon will be at this rate. The popple trees are holding theirs at the moment as well as the oaks. Some lower brush type shrubs are retaining leaves as well. Especially the invasive wild honeysuckles. They really show up now. A grim reminder of the areas they are overtaking. But I have ripped up quite a few recently as I cleared out trails ahead of hunting season. Yes! We are hunting deer this year!

Zane and I had been talking about hunting deer this fall but were seriously handicapped by a lack of firearms. We both needed muzzle loaders and deer rifles. My Remington model 700 deer rifle has a potentially defective trigger that I never got replaced under the recall years ago. I decided we should not use it for safety reasons. So it’s just a showpiece at the moment. I never cared for it anyway. Chambered in 30-06 with a bolt action it always seemed heavy to me. I have carried it around some since getting it as a gift after the house fire of 2012, but I never truly felt comfortable with it. It’s practically brand new still. Honestly I had never really recovered from the loss of my Remington model 760 Gamemaster 300 Savage that had once belonged to my Grandfather Alvin Washburn. Purchased sometime in the 1950’s near as I could tell. It had sold for $100.00 plus dollars . ( its original box was in our attic with the price written on it). Our dad inherited it and it was in our house for many years although my dad never deer hunted till later years after he retired. He had given it to me by then and I had a gun dealer put a scope on it. I loved that gun! Lightweight with a pump action and ammo clip, it was a great shooting gun! I killed quite a few deer with it once I began deer hunting in the late 1990’s. Losing it in the fire was rather tragic for me. We lost all our guns that day. A truly horrible experience.

Sighting in a muzzle loader using the 13 yard method.

Once I knew that Zane truly was ready to hunt, I decided to buy a muzzle loader from a gun dealer we have purchased others through. He had a nice new CVA Wolf 50 caliber in stock at a fair price. The spending began! We needed everything. Primers, powder,sabots, and more. Several hundred dollars later we were ready to sight in the gun. We used the 13 yard rule and advanced out from there. It took quite a few shots to get the scope dialed in. Then came the cleaning. These newer guns are much easier to clean with their break breeches. A fair cry from the CVA Apollo that I killed deer with prior to the fire. Years ago we weren’t allowed to use scopes on muzzle loaders but the state changed that law some time ago. Zane was quite comfortable after firing the gun and receiving safety training from me. Now I needed a muzzle loader!

The gun dealer had a nice used CVA V2 Optima 50 caliber with a nice scope and sling. It has a stainless barrel and was in great condition. I decided to buy it. Also more accessories for Zane and I. This hunting hobby involves some cash flow! Good thing Zane is working and has his own money!

Things were ramping up with muzzle loader season just days away. I took the time to build a couple crude tree stands in strategic locations at the farm for Zane and I to use. I outfitted them with old 16’ wooden ladder sections and used old repurposed pressure treated lumber from a salvage job. Our metal ladder stand behind the barn was on the ground as the tree it was attached to had blown over at some point. I managed to salvage it but spooked a couple deer in the process. A good sign! I also cleared out some invasive wild honeysuckle near the one tree stand using the tractor and loader. Not to mention the old trail up beyond the gap that had become impassable from berry bushes and fallen trees. What a mess! Way different than the pastures I had hunted in the late ‘90’s. I now have the trail system in much better condition so at least we can walk it. The fallow meadows on the hill are weedy and overgrown. Difficult to spot deer in that’s for sure.

One of the tree stands. Simple and effective.

While all this was going on I was busy locating some deer rifles. Zane found a nice 1954 Remington model 760 Gamemaster in 300 Savage at a gun shop in North Dakota on GunBroker. GunBroker is a great place to find guns but there’s a commission involved with any transaction. But we were able to find the gun I truly wanted. It was as close to my Grandfather’s rifle as I was likely to ever find. Not cheap but it’s a collectible piece. I took a chance and I bought it. I made arrangements for it to be shipped to my gun dealer. FFL regulations must be followed for gun purchases. There’s a background check for guns and ammo. At a cost of course.It has to be paid. The price of doing business in this modern society.

Shortly after we found a beautiful 1979 Remington model 760 Gamemaster that was located in Minnesota. Through GunBroker again at a good price. I bought it also. We picked it up at our gun dealer last Friday and went to the farm to sight in my muzzle loader and the two 760’s. Lots of shooting! My muzzle loader was pretty easy to zero in fortunately. And the day ended with us preparing to start the muzzle loading season the next morning. Talk about a photo finish!

Zane tries out one of the Gamemaster model 760 rifles.

And that’s about it for rifles. No knives to mention really. We still need to buy a couple nice ones. I borrowed the title from a song I like by the band “ The Asteroid No. 4”. Zane and I are heavily invested in hunting season but things paid off last weekend for both of us. Both of us got deer! And I have spent a bunch of time getting them cut up and frozen. But all that is another story perhaps.

It took me many years to get interested in deer hunting again but I am glad to be back at it! And my new used rifle feels comfortable in my grasp. Familiar and known to me. Perhaps it has been waiting for me all these years. Who can really say? One things for certain, my model 760 brings back many memories! And I am back on the trails and in the trees.Observing as I hunt for deer and engage with nature. Connected in a hunter/gatherer mindset of rural heritage self reliance. I have gone full circle in some ways but did I ever truly leave? I believe this moment in time that I am sharing with Zane was waiting for the fullness of time to arrive. It is time for new MOONTABS as old ones circulate in my memory as I tell my son stories of who I once was as a hunter. But I have not forgotten I realize. Saturday would reinforce that for me. It is enough.✍️

Le Chemin Oublie. ( The Forgotten Path)

Posted on August 21, 2025August 21, 2025 by Greg Washburn

Blogging certainly hasn’t been on my list of priorities lately! I went home in July after never really telling the whole story of what’s gone on. But life moves fast it seems. I returned home on July 18th without ever really updating my adventures here. I suppose I will tell the stories in a Star Wars movie episode fashion. Forward, backwards, and all over the place. What may truly matter in the end is telling the stories at all. My photo gallery serves as proof of days lived and memories made. Time and task. I am thankful for that! For writing often must take the backseat as I push forward. Never what I intend but a constant. This has been a rather full summer. Many miles traveled. Here and back home. And those that connected the dots of a roving me. So we must fast forward to the present. No longer July but well into August. So very much has transpired and the world moved on whether I told my stories or not. I am small and humbled in that realization.

Let’s fast forward past my time back home in July into August. I returned here to Camp Sparrow Song August 12th. I had been home about 3 weeks. Upon returning I set out to fish the big lake here again but it was rather tough for me. Wind and waves were a problem. I decided to fish a set of rapids below a dam close to here last week on Thursday. I was tired of my struggles on the big lake and needed a break. I had good luck and my confidence was renewed. So much that I decided to pack up my canoe and camping gear for a couple days away. There was a big music festival in town close by and I really didn’t want to be part of it. So off to the ZEC Restigo Gracie and I went Friday afternoon. I chose a remote lake that we had paddled back in July. Lac Goeland. The two days I spent there are worthy of their own story. Camping out of the truck in a tent and fishing were the main activities. Solitude on my first ever camping trip in the bush in a tent.

Since my return I have fished with a couple neighbors and have enjoyed some success. Yes you guessed it! Another story! Today I decided a hike was in order for a change. I have been curious about a set of rapids in the Kipawa River near Brennan Lake. Brennan Lake is a rather large lake within the ZEC Restigo boundaries. I had paddled Brennan Lake back in July but didn’t get to explore the river. I have wanted to see the rapids as they are listed as a point of interest on the ZEC Restigo map. A roughly 5Km trail leads to you to the falls according to the map. Sounds easy right? Sure it’s 6 miles round trip but that’s doable. The weather was good for hiking. Mid 70’s and somewhat cloudy. Plus the bugs haven’t been bad lately. So it was on once I secured my ZEC permit at the office where Highway 819 begins just outside of town here.

There wasn’t a wealth of information on the trailhead but I found something after Goggling it. And after my time here I was tuned in to the landmarks they mentioned. So up the 819 I went around 11am. It took me awhile to get to where the trailhead was supposed to be. It appeared to be off an old logging road that I found without too much trouble. The logging road was dry and pretty brush free. Not something that I encounter here when I explore. But after heading down the logging road I found no trailhead. I studied my map and phone app. My GAIA app is indispensable in the back bush. It shows my GPS location at all times. No cellular phone service needed. But where was the trailhead? No markers. No signs. Nothing.

There was however, an old beat up travel trailer sitting in a small clearing with a possible trail behind it. I guessed it a simple hunting trail when I first scouted it. It was rather overgrown and couldn’t possibly be the trail that was marked on the ZEC map. I drove back and forth searching for the trail with no luck. I finally decided to follow the trail behind the beat up travel trailer sitting in the clearing. I guessed that I was on a wild goose chase just following some moose hunters trail. But I was out of options and I had pounded dusty, rough roads to get to my destination. I wasn’t ready to quit that easy.

Once I started down the trail behind the old camper I decided that I was in the right place after all . I was obviously following an old logging road. It was molded and leveled. No question about it then but it was pretty overgrown. However, someone had taken time to cut some of the hanging brush back with a chainsaw. I was carrying an axe and began laying tree blazes behind me. Something I had read about years ago from back bush trappers. I also found pieces of survey ribbon laying around. I stuck some in my pocket and marked the trail occasionally. Getting lost here would be very bad!

The trail was pretty rough walking but ok. There were plenty of overhanging tag alders choking the trail. I broke off smaller ones leaving an obvious trail behind me. I also turned around and studied the terrain behind me. Always a good idea. I kept hanging survey ribbon pieces in strategic locations. I wanted a clear path out! Some sections were nice walking. Rather open but others were tough with waist plus berry bushes choking the path. But I was ok. I got to thinking that everything was good. The old logging road was obvious. No getting lost while following its signature through the bush. The bush is very alive and thriving. Noteworthy.

I reached a beaver meadow. Once the site of a huge pond it appeared. The berry bushes and jewel weeds were unbelievably high. And the bugs found me then. Deer flies and mosquitoes liking my sweat and heavy breathing as I soldiered through. I began to question the adventure then. This was ok but 3 miles of it? I was expending lots of energy. Gracie too. I lost her for a moment suddenly. She wasn’t behind me and couldn’t hear her. I yelled and became very worried when there was no sound. Losing her here would be very bad. But suddenly I heard her rustling through the dense berry bushes. This was becoming a bit hellish. My shirt was soaked with sweat and my legs were getting scratched bad. Shorts had seemed like a good choice. Not so much now I mused.

And then the unexpected happened. While wading through waist high berry bushes the ground below my feet disappeared and I tumbled forward. The old logging road had washed out and there was a huge gulley. I survived my tumble intact but suddenly realized that this was a less to be desired trail. No one had been through it in sometime. I guess it’s not a popular destination reaching the falls.

After my fall I found my way out to the open space of the former beaver pond. Vegetation was lighter there so it was easier walking until I hit a muddy section. Gracie took a dip in a weedy pool. She was struggling and I could tell. Old age has its disadvantages I suppose. There were moose tracks in the mud and I had seen moose droppings along the trail. They were smart. Taking the path of least resistance. They don’t worry about getting lost I suppose.

After the beaver damaged section the trail played out. The chainsaw and axe wielding trail stewards had given up it appeared. The trail just stopped. Yes the old logging continued but it was so overwhelmingly overgrown that it was pure folly to keep following it. I was hot and scratched up from the berry bushes. It was a defining moment. Persist and push forward? Reality ruled the day. Based on my GPS app, I had only covered about one mile of a three mile hike. To continue would be ill advised. Common sense kicked in despite my disappointment of failing my objective. It wasn’t easy to do in some ways. But there was a sense of relief in the concession. This was no place to mess around.

I was disappointed to not make it to the Turner Falls. But the maps had indicated a trail. I had counted on a herd path. Who knew? And I certainly gained more respect for the bush. It is hellbent to return to its natural state. And I respect the power that lives there. I’m weak in the face of that power. Frail and vulnerable. And there’s a lesson there that I thought I had learned. But the lands of the valley where I have spent most of my life are very different. The Quebec bush is a much different place. So tonight I count my good fortune and wear my scratches with a certain sense of pride. I earned them today. They will heal and my internal turmoil heals in the doing of such adventures. I wouldn’t have it any other way I suppose. And BTW. Maybe reaching the Turner Chute, aka the Turner Falls by water might not be such a bad idea. I am a stubborn one at times. And I had reasons for torturing myself today. That’s all on me. It’s what I wanted. And I got what I wanted. The universe spins in mysterious ways.✍️

Why Have I Stayed?Part 2

Posted on February 2, 2025February 2, 2025 by Greg Washburn

It’s now February 1st and I have decided to resume my story into the reasons I continue to live in a four season climate. Each season truly has something different to offer and I suppose each brings certain challenges. But every season gifts far more than any hardship it creates. And what is that hardship anyway? Something that nature brought that we find unacceptable because it hinders our human condition in some manner? To better connect to nature might occur when we better accept the weather itself. I try to work my plans around the weather as much as possible. Being retired helps as commuting to work is no longer a weekly requirement. Winter always brought challenges to my commuting but my career choice was my choice just as living here became my choice. These days my choices are driven by different things.

Its funny to me the avenues that I allow myself to travel at times when considering writing projects. Any number of things can prompt a deep dive into some particular subject. I call these events or thoughts “triggers”. Driving home the other day really pulled a trigger on my observations of winter. Needing to plow snow the next day really pulled the triggers! Like holding a double barreled shotgun with two triggers and pulling them both at once! What a recoil! Things really took a dive after that as I more closely examined my relationship with winter. And when I realized that sometimes over the years that I had sometimes been ultra critical of winter, when the actual burdens were mine to bear by my choices. Is all this too obvious perhaps? And not worthy of a closer examination?At this moment I am not even sure that I can tell this story in any logical manner. Let me take a stab at it regardless.

Ice formations coming off the cabin roof.

How best to tell a tale of winter than starting at its conclusion? We rarely think about winter during the warmer months. It might come up in conversation at times though but never dominates any given moment. As spring arrives winter begins to fade and the long stretch of milder weather coming fills us our hearts with happy possibilities! With spring arriving in March, we are usually well into maple syrup season. I never think of syrup season as winter although the first weeks typically and technically are still. As winter departs we pack away the heavy coats, gloves, and all the many pieces of attire that were necessary for several months. Mine go into big plastic totes that are quite rodent proof. I place them out of the way and forget about them. Things like snowshoes, micro spikes, and all the accessories of winter hobbies also get stashed away. It always amazes me the amount of things that I own just for my winter pursuits! I will get into this subject a little further into this post. I think it’s the winter hobbies that have really prompted my interest in writing about all this to some degree. Call it an attempt at positivity!

If we fast forward past the warm days of spring,summer, and early autumn we will ultimately arrive at a some random day in October or November when the temperatures will reinforce that winter is approaching. There may be a heavy morning frost where the mud stiffens up a bit. Or maybe some stinging snowflakes driven by a brisk wind from the north. But often it’s a trigger of one type or another that really makes us think. There’s nothing like digging out those carefully stored totes with our winter gear to get us thinking. The lessening daylight also jogs our memories at times. I think that’s an important reason why the prospect of winter can make us question our decisions. A quick look at a calendar reminds us that outdoor projects and things that require warmer weather aren’t going to be feasible much longer. There is a ticking time clock in motion. And possibly imagined alarms sounding if we are way behind schedule with something. Winter can cripple a construction project with frosty precision. Everything slows down then.Everything takes longer. This was my reality many times over the years if I was on outside projects. No wonder I became conditioned! But even at home we may feel a sense of some sort of impending doom. Sure it sounds a little over the top and overly dramatic! But if you burn firewood and don’t have it all ready? Not good! Haven’t sawed that pile of logs into lumber? Haven’t started that cabin addition yet? These were some of my concerns last fall as I continued to work at the Methane project into November a little. Winter was coming! So I believe that many of us here in the north country twinge a little at the prospect of it all.

And then just like that we arrive at winter solstice on the calendar. But this time we will have taken care of many necessary tasks at the last minute. We took advantage of mild days and gambled on getting things done. Xmas is close and we use the darker days to slow down some hopefully. Our gear is ready and sometimes new items are purchased. Snow brushes find their way into the vehicles. Snow shovels come out of storage and find their way next to porch doors.Snow comes at times but often leaves just as quickly. We ease in with practiced hands.Things change then in some strange fashion. I view the coming season with an almost calm demeanor. What didn’t get done may need to wait until spring. Or maybe even summer. What’s the use of being negative about it now? Winter has sealed the deal after all. Why fight it?

The decision has been made to stay. And the reasons are many and rather familiar. I had often thought that someday I would follow the geese south and escape some of the cold season. But years pass and I have not. Why do I stay? I have stayed because my son is still here for one reason. And since I have decided to stay I build a schedule around winter. And here the answers to the question begin to add up. Hobbies take center stage suddenly and it becomes obvious why I stay.Let’s showcase a few of my activities these days. Out come the cross country skis and boots. It’s time for a glide along a groomed Adirondack trail perhaps. Not a big activity of mine but one I enjoy some. Out come the snowshoes! These get some serious use the past several winters. Excursions will be in the Adirondacks, near the farm, and down into the frozen Beaver Creek gorge.Snowshoes take me into some rugged places and I enjoy them immensely! Out came my snowboard,helmet, and boots recently for a late day assault on tiny Mt. Pisgah in Saranac Lake with Zane. The first time in two years but as fun as always. All this after volunteering at the Ice Palace build for Winter Carnival in Saranac Lake. I showed up with two ice saws for cutting blocks free. Year five for me volunteering and more fun then ever! A true winter event like no other.And there’s also been a little ice walking this season but it’s been rather tricky so far. Winter has brought the birds to my feeder and I love to watch for them each day. It’s also brought squirrels and possums to the feeder! They don’t bother me so I leave them alone. Rodents continue to plague us here and I stop their tiny tracks near the Airstream. Bad news when they get in but I am ready for them. The snow is the ultimate canvas for nature to paint upon. Enter the hobby of track identification!

We have gotten some decent snow accumulations now. Lots of fresh snow and I have been fortunate to have spotted a good selection of animal tracks. There have been fisher tracks near the barn twice now. Recently a weasel visited the sugar house. On a nature trek yesterday near Alexandria Bay, New York, we spotted the tracks of a mink, otter, and a weasel. Deer sign was plentiful in the snow. Reading tracks in the snow is like reading a book and trying in interpret the story. And speaking of ice, yesterday we had a wonderful moment standing high above the frozen expanse of Eel Bay in the St. Lawrence River. The mass of the ice that extended to the far horizons was something to behold. All that water frozen into a large mass. Covered with drifted snow below us as a north breeze nipped at our faces despite the warmth of the sun. Nightfall was coming and our shelter awaited us nearby. A room with a large tub to fill with hot water to bask away the winter chill before having a hot dinner after. This is a gift of winter. Hot water to soak a cold body. A hot drink with a hot meal. Not things we desire in summer. They come with winter and things make sense in those moments. The simple pleasures that satisfy our fragile bodies. Only winter can bring these things. Piercing chills and numbing stings to our faces. Frosty breath from exertion and exercise. The need to take shelter from the cold,dark nights where the mercury drops below zero. The warmth of another’s body close to you under heavy covers and the blissful passage into sleep in a warm room. All this does winter bring. And my sporadic ramblings weave and twist in all directions. For all I may question about why I stay? There are so many reasons why I do. And even if I dream of warmer days without the weight of heavy clothing upon me, I revel in the magic that appears as we truly embrace the winter days. Yes it will still challenge us. Yes we will feel cold and miserable at times perhaps after a hard day in the woods. Or curse the plowing of snow with our tired iron protesting it’s mechanical issues. Or find ourselves stuck behind slow traffic and snowplows as we speed about our winter business with our vehicles covered with salt and sand. And memories come from the recesses of my mind of much harder times then these. They were real and not figments of my imagination. Subzero times and record breaking snowfalls live there in my memories. I have not forgotten. For I was once a snowmobiler. And an avid ice fisherman. A winter trapper of furs. I learned to drive on a frozen lake. Winter has shaped my life here in the St. Law. Valley. And I know now more than ever why I stay. It would be hard to leave this behind forever. A piece of me would be lost. And I must ask what if? What if we were to take a short break from winter and then return? Could we still manage to find enough days for all we wish to do before the ice and snow disappeared? Today is February 2nd and winter is well underway now. There has been no ice fishing yet and little ice walking. But time remains. Isn’t it funny that when winter hits a certain point I begin to worry about what I might not do? A contradiction of sorts. And the origins of my Spin. For contradictions live in all seasons of nature. A great subject to ponder next to the wood stove on a cloudy, cold day. It is enough.✍️

What Color Is My Next Chapter?

Posted on November 2, 2024November 3, 2024 by Greg Washburn

November 2nd. Zane’s birthday today! It’s 5:19pm and very close to the time of his actual birth give or take an hour or two. Zane becoming 20 today really gives me pause to reflect. But honestly? When aren’t I reflecting about something? To keep it simple I must acknowledge several gratitudes. First that I am fortunate to have Zane living with me presently! Although some of his nocturnal wanderings can give me anxiety! I never know what time he will roll in. The fact that I even have a 20 year old son is noteworthy. As is the fact that we still enjoy each other’s company most of the time. So I am feeling blessed tonight ! I still have vivid memories of the evening he was born. That moment when my life would change forever.Yesterday was the 7 year anniversary of my retirement. Thursday was my last day of my full time critical shortage work on the methane project. These are the simple facts. I am about to write a new chapter of my personal life journey story! And a strange blog post title occurred to me suddenly. A continued introduction to myself in a sense. Sense becomes a key word as this new chapter begins to be written.

Change seems to be a big part of my life really but isn’t that true for everyone? In this the 1st day of the 11th month I truly begin to reflect on my year. I was fortunate to move beyond the health issues I experienced in January mostly unscathed. My daily medications serve as stark reminder each morning though. I was lucky! The universe responded to my calls in late January and a new chapter began that would see me frequently in the Adirondacks until my work would bring me back to the valley in late July. This chapter was a defining moment of my year. One of tremendous personal growth, discovery, happiness, and many special,private memories. But my growth as summer progressed did not come without bad decisions and mistakes on my part as it turns out. I was accelerating much too fast in the spin and blinded by forces that I could not comprehend. Difficult to explain or understand in some ways . Pain is a part of growth at times perhaps but a part that I would rather not experience or inflict on others. A lesson I learned too late this time to halt my impetuous forward momentum.It has cost me in emotional currency. A toll has had to be paid to keep moving in the flow. Looking back it’s almost surreal at times. The universe responds to the frequency we vibrate if you walk the paths of universal vibration and the Law Of Attraction.They are a study of mine. Sometimes we over shoot the runaway when trying to land on our feet. Will I grow from what I have learned? In time, yes!

Looking back at what I can’t change now makes me ask myself: What color is my next chapter? This I can say. Not written with black ink with dark bold letters on ghostly white paper. Cold and haunting in their intent. Black does represent something positive though. Black is the gift of night and shadow. Found in nature everywhere. I will not choose to falsely vibrant and use bright imitation man made colors that don’t resemble anything that looks like me. That is artificial and false for me. I hope to paint my next chapter with earthy browns and natural greens. The blues of sunny skies,water, and beautiful eyes. The grays of cloudy snow laden clouds filled with blinding white snow flakes falling with mesmerizing silence. The reds and oranges of the rising and setting sun. So many more colors live in nature with which to paint. Ones that invite with honest simplicity. Ones that solidify integrity and honest testimony. Truthful confession in the midst of confusion. A colorful path to seek out and follow even when I must limp up it.

What flavor is my next chapter? Bitter or sour? Distasteful and unpalatable? Served cold with a side of cynical? I am certainly not planning on that. I am hoping for the taste of fresh maple syrup on ice cream. Deliciously sweet and making you crave more of my sugar house creations. The taste of freshly picked berries plucked from dew soaked bushes on a summer morning. Raw and satisfying. Frozen to be enjoyed months later on a rainy autumn evening when baked into a pie.Or sweet fresh pressed apple cider from apples right off the tree. Tart and refreshing. A gift from nature. Most definitely maple infused coffee in a favorite steaming cup.Warming my hands as a new day begins. Those are but a few of the many wonderful flavors that enhance my life. How best to have them grace my next chapter?Share them perhaps?

What will my next chapter feel like? Freezing cold and icy with clinging frozen tears of failure that refuse to fall? Or burning hot? Scorching and searing with burning intensity? Burning bridges over raging rivers of doubt and indecision ? Thorny and prickly with hurtful wounding branches? Ripping and tearing at all they touch? No. If I am fortunate it will feel soft like delicate forest moss or the silky seed tufts of dry milkweed about to rise high on an autumn breeze. Or the soft caress of morning sunshine on my face. Maybe the softness of layers of scented pine needles on dry ground. To feel is to know you are still alive. That place where hope is found and your spirit energy resides with quiet resolve waiting to be released for a greater purpose .

What will my next chapter sound like? Raspy and harsh like a dead tree limb rubbing on a rusty metal roof ? Like squeaky hinges on a battered door hanging loosely on a neglected barn? No. I wish for my next chapter to sound like dripping sap drops falling into a bucket on a freshly tapped maple tree on a warming March morning. Like migrating geese high overhead. Strong and purposeful. Connected to nature’s call of survival. Or a buzzing honeybee landing on a clover blossom next to me. Working for the benefit of the hive. All these things and more I desire my next chapter to sound like.

And what will my next chapter smell like? Rotten and decaying like roadkill hit by a speeding driver? Left to be wasted and forgotten? Stale and musty like a moldy book? Tainted and offensive like fruit left in the sun too long?No. I hope my next chapter smells like apple blossoms in an orchard on a crisp spring morning . Like freshly mown hay on a hot summer night tickling my nose with a fragrant bounty. Like sun soaked balsam aroma wafting down onto a secluded mountain trail inviting me to stop for a moment. That’s just a few examples of what I wish my next chapter to smell like.

And you might read this far and think that I am somewhat negative in my direction of thought in this most unusual of posts. No. I am pensive and examining this moment in time. How did I get here? Why did I do certain things? How best to correct my mistakes if possible or at least and never repeat them. Ask those I have hurt for forgiveness and help them understand if that is even possible. How best to balance myself in the flow?How best to coexist with others and be kind. Learning to be a more supportive,better listener. There is no exciting destination here to send you off to with a set of directions. Not this time in this post.There is no map to the future. Just whispers from the inner spirit that needed to be written and shared as a continued testimonial of my life.Sometimes it’s hard to hear in the spin of Taz energy. Or slow it down. There is a connection to nature here. It lives in the five senses we possess and in the hidden one. The 5+1 I so often write about. This post serves to remind me of my many challenges and my personal struggles. And share that I am far from perfect. I am humbled by my own emotions at times. Lost at times to them but always trying to do better. I acknowledge and feel grateful for my many blessings. They are the mortar that holds it all together like the mud of hornet’s nest on the underside of a roof. MOONTABS come in different forms. I offer few answers but ask many questions at times. But today was a special day. A day to connect and attempt to make sense of it all. A beautiful new Adirondack destination to explore. The warmth of a campfire while snowflakes fell at times. A brief sun drenched moment on a rocky escarpment. A walk through open glades of forest where fresh beaver activity next to the pond offered a message. Prepare for winter in their case. Preparing. As in preparing to write the next chapter in my case. So what color is my next chapter? Only time can tell. ✍️

The Ok Slip Falls

Posted on November 1, 2024November 2, 2024 by Greg Washburn

It’s Friday evening November 1st and I just got settled into my room at the Faust Motel in Tupper Lake, New York well over the Blue Line of the Adirondack Park. Why I am here for the second time in a week is a question that is easily answered. I like it here! Zane and I stayed in the room next door for two nights when we came up to the Adks to celebrate his birthday early. And that story is what I will tell shortly. But as to why I am here tonight is a story of a different sort. The universe steers me at times and where we had intended to stay last weekend didn’t pan out. I was driving home from work last Friday tried to decide where we might stay when the word Faust popped into my head! Faust is considered part of the village of Tupper Lake these days but once was known separately as a village that was the location of a railroad depot. The Faust Motel is about the only remaining place keeping the name going today. I just learned this a couple years ago from a local person.Anyway I Goggled the Faust Motel phone number and left a message about securing a room. The owner contacted us while we were driving up and just like that we had accommodations! Good rates too! We found our room warm and inviting when we arrived. Plenty of room and there are no televisions! No problem for us. We were set! Step one was complete! We would be waking up already close to our destination. I feel asleep super early after my long day.

We slept well and for a long time into Saturday morning. I headed over to get coffee at the little place at the motel where the owner makes it. I met the owner and chatted with her for quite awhile as other guests came and went. Fun! I got Zane up and moving so we could get our day moving. We stopped at Chef Darrel’s Mountain Cafe in Blue Mountain Lake for a hearty breakfast of eggs Benedict and pie. We were ready to hike! Our driving destination was a trailhead just a few miles past Indian Lake. The trail to Ok Slip Falls is about 3 miles counting the short distance you must hike a long the highway first. It’s a really well maintained trail with board sections spanning muddy areas. Much of it covers high well drained ridges where it’s very dry actually. A pleasant surprise as quite often trails can be muddy herd paths. The trail winds through a couple nice stands of evergreens. The first stand predominantly large white pine and the second one mostly large hemlock. The forest is quite open in spots given the age of its trees and the highness of most of the canopy. Zane and I made good time on the trail where almost all the leaves had fallen recently. The distance we could see through the forest was impressive and much different then a summer hike would have been. The trail went up and down to a degree but nothing major. We eventually reached a dirt road with power lines a long it that we traveled a short distance before turning off. It appeared that we were on some sort of old logging road at times. Pretty decent hiking really. There were a couple small rivulets of water to cross but nothing of any size. The trail was about to change we suddenly realized as we topped out onto a ridge.

Off in the distance we could see some high bluffs with open rocky ledges. The land beyond where we had topped off fell away from us into what appeared to be a large valley of some size. I mentioned to Zane that somewhere down there would be a stream or river. We knew from the trail description that the Hudson River was back in that direction somewhere. It was all making sense that the falls would be showing themselves before too long. The temperature was pleasant and the sun would occasionally come out for awhile. Zane was down to his tee shirt but I still wore my hoodie. My blood thinner make me run a little cooler these days that’s all. But I am fortunate to be in good enough condition to hike. Even with my injured knee that I brace up each day. It’s going to need to be addressed sometime this winter as I can’t continue on this way. They suspect my meniscus is damaged but not totally torn loose. It’s rather bothersome and causes me a fair amount of discomfort each day. But staying off the trail when I wanted nothing more then to hike with Zane wasn’t an option for me. I was feeling pretty good actually and not really suffering. I was enjoying my hike with Zane! Just like old times!

The trail began to descend in a winding fashion into the valley. Before too long I heard the water fall. We got our first view soon after and it was very impressive! The next overlook was even better and there was a great view of the falls. There were a couple other people there and we had passed two groups of hikers headed back out as we made our way in. We took a few photos and went to investigate more of the trail to see if there was a way down into the gorge. But a sign stating end of trail appeared. We decided to go past anyway to see if there was a way down. Others had done the same and there was a very steep but crude descending trail. It soon got super steep and I had to stash my beaver stick trekking poles. Soon we had to use ropes that people had tied here and there to get down even steeper sections. I was getting very nervous and kept asking Zane if we should turn back but he kept insisting that we could make it. We reached a place where the trail became only a foot or so wide next to a steep ledge. To the left there were almost no trees and a rocky slide looking section that dropped over a ledge. Not a safe place to go and I was very s scared. Zane crossed it easily and coaxed me across it. Not my idea of fun! After that it wasn’t as bad with trees and roots to hang onto while descending. We eventually reached the bottom and stood next to a large pool of water. I spotted a small trout swimming in it shallow sunny section near shore. Zane raced ahead to the base of the falls and I caught up after awhile. I was a little shaky from the descent and it took me a minute to relax again. But the view was worth all the effort and risk it had taken to get down there. We got up close to the falls but had to watch for super slick rocks. The base of the falls was a jumbled pile of rocks of all sizes. Some were huge! We took more photos and I gazed up at the overlook where we had stood before descending. We were in a circular basin with high rock walls on three sides. Eerily beautiful and peaceful despite the hazards getting down. We made our way up with relative ease but it was rather strenuous. I found it less stressful climbing up and was glad when we crossed the narrow section of ledge with the potentially fatal drop off. But what an adventure! So much more then just sitting up at the overlook. We rested at the overlook and enjoyed a snack with plenty of water. It was time to make our way out.

The trip out was uneventful and I was beginning to tire some as my knee began to burn with overexertion. It seemed like a long trip but we made it out fairly quickly. We had done it! Made it to Ok Slip Falls! One of the highest waterfalls in the Adirondacks! Zane and I had bonded greatly from the experience. Something we both needed! Adirondack time never disappoints. The adventure was a true battery charging event even if it had worn me down physically. We still had daylight remaining as we made our way back to Tupper Lake so we stopped at Buttermilk Falls near Long Lake. Very easy to find and close to the road. Always a treat! Back at the room it was shower time and then dinner. I feel asleep early again and Sunday morning would find me having coffee again in the coffee room. Zane wanted to explore Lake Placid so we visited the Olympic Center where I had worked in 2021 and 2022. We hit some shops and a bookstore before grabbing lunch at the Pickled Pig. A fav LP restaurant of mine! On the drive home we hiked up to Mount Arab and climbed up the fire tower. Our weekend was ending but we had had a wonderful adventure! A little bit of everything! Hiking and waterfalls. Dining out and hitting shops. A true Adirondack experience! MOONTABS were made and for that I am most grateful!✍️

And The Wheels Turn

Posted on June 21, 2024February 11, 2025 by Greg Washburn

Day two of summer has arrived! Summer solstice burned in hot and humid yesterday. It’s been a very hot week and very typical for this time of June. I have spent most of June (to date) up in Saranac Lake working on a capital project on Amy’s house. After deliberating the scope and timeline an agreement was made with Amy’s carpenter friend Peter to do the project ourselves with me being an assistant. We started at the tail end of May demoing the old deck. Then the rebuild.It’s been fun and challenging! Amy’s choice of natural white cedar for the deck sealed the deal for me way before we even started. Way back in February when I arrived at her place to rent for the night for the first time she had shown me the project. She had mentioned the white cedar then. I was sold and time would lead my hands to the project. But not before the subtle dances of courtship followed a certain soundtrack. Enter the many hours traveling back and forth to see each other. The distance has been no hardship for either of us. The mix of time spent in the Adirondacks and the valley has a certain flair to it! And the wheels turned.

Where’s the time go besides covering those miles? Health concerns,procedures, and doctor visits eat through the hours like ravenous dogs. My knee situation is one ongoing problem. There’s more but the point is not to showcase my health struggles but rather acknowledge the investment of time it takes to overcome them. This has been a year of huge change for me. I stand pounds lighter and healthier these days. I have lost weight and overhauled my diet thanks in part to my wellness coach! Fate would bring Amy into my life at a time when I was needing change. And change has come in waves for me. And I ride an imaginary surf board at times. High on top,sitting at a dead calm, and sometimes tossed under kissing the coral. It’s all a little surreal at times and I feel like a bystander in some strange manner when I wake sometimes at 3am suddenly. But I am lucky! Blessed with the simplest of things when I need them most. The connections to nature can be loosened a little at times but fortunately never broken. I try to keep myself surrounded by nature as much as possible! And those little things found in nature become huge and meaningful in the passing of days. Perhaps I have learned to look for them better. My inner spirit batteries need a good charging to keep the balance! It’s working well and I continue to work on becoming a healthier me. It’s taking some time. And the wheels turn.

Eastern pond hawk visitor. A small wonder.

I have truly enjoyed my time in the village of Saranac Lake! Staying at Amy’s while working has been great. It keeps me off the road and helps me focus on the project. We sometimes get out onto the Rail Trail to ride our bikes for some relaxation time. The sight of the mountains always pumps me up! We have done some paddling as well on some of the nearby ponds and lakes. One morning while driving back from nearby Bloomingdale after picking up some lumber I was struck by the magnitude of the moment! Here I was! Right where I had sometimes envisioned myself as a future me. Living and working right in the village.Of course I could never have envisioned all of it! Too many things had to change first. And if it seems like I am in a different place these days on my journey it’s because I am! I am doing my best to move forward on this new path. Out beyond that crossroad I headed down in February. And the clock enters my schedule in new ways. It turns with the new season. All the extra daylight sure changes things but it’s easy to take it for granted since it comes on so gradual.That’s part of what I always attempt to capture here. There’s so much to see and do when summer hits. And if you are wondering. The wheels turn.

We will soon be done with phase one projects at Amy’s and take a little break there. We are about to open Camp Edith and get it ready for some summer times! Summer will also see me returning to some of my invasive species volunteering work. It’s all being placed on the calendar in neatly arranged time slots. Here at the Homestead there are things to keep up with every week. The small lawn grows quickly! We also have a tiny garden out by the silo. A fun little “throw and grow” project that we are experimenting with here. So time is balanced between two places these days. It’s working though. Things continue to get checked off the lists each week. We are due for a new series of adventures soon! It’s taking some planning to assimilate into each other’s lives we have learned. It’s no surprise or no big epiphany. It’s simply a new reality to share together. So the wheels turn! Between the valley and the Adirondacks. In the Adirondacks and in the valley. And all sorts of destinations in between! It’s all creating a unique set of MOONTABS! ✍️