Wandering

I was driving down a winding country road in early morning. Light and dark flashed rapidly over my eyes as winter trees filtered the low slanting sun. After a month of being trapped indoors with cabin fever mounting daily, I was finally getting out of the house. It didn’t matter that the temperature was just 16F. The sun was out and so was I.

Just a couple more miles and I pulled off to the side at a wide spot in the road. I grabbed my coat and hat, my backpack, and my tripod out of the backseat and headed in among the trees.

Only two days before the weather had been warm and rainy leaving snow only in patches now crusty from the cold. The rest of the landscape was brown and barren. Thin wisps of ice granules blown by the wind undulated back and forth over the smooth surface of ponds and hissed among the frayed and broken cattails at the edges.

Water that had been running high and open seemed to be in suspended animation. The cold had returned so quickly that everything was flash frozen to a crackly crunch. Thin ice shattered like glass under my feet sending little shards skittering downstream. Thicker spots were smooth and clean and incredibly slick. Staying vertical took concentration.

A few hours into my walk, I stopped at a familiar waterfall to photograph some interesting ice formations. It is a pretty large fall with two tiers. The upper level fall is maybe thirty feet wide and drops about ten feet. Then there is a level-ish area maybe ten or twelve feet wide with a pool in the middle before the second drop of about thirty feet down to another pool at the bottom.

Even though everything was frozen, I could hear the water still rushing along under the ice and every so often there would be a hole providing a little window with dark water flashing past.

I was in between the two tiers taking close ups of the upper fall. My main concern was to not lose my footing on the slippery ice and slide down to the bottom which would certainly be painful. I was shuffling along slowly trying to cross the pool when with a loud bang and a sploosh the ice split open and down I went into the waist deep water.

Instinctively I held the camera and tripod over my head with one hand, leaned back onto the solid ice to prevent sliding in all the way, and frantically felt with the other hand for something to pull me out. I was out quick, but was wet up to my shirt tail and shivering from the icy shock.

Figuring the jig was up for the day I packed up my camera gear and started walking quickly back towards my car. I was disappointed that I would have to cut short my first day out in a month (it was only around eleven in the morning) and especially on such a nice sunny day.

It was a mile or so back to the car and I warmed up pretty good with the effort and with the sun on me. Eventually my pant legs froze solid which actually made it more comfortable. So I got an idea.

I quickly drove across the valley to a spot that I knew had some pretty stiff uphill walks. I figured that if I kept on the move and stopped only briefly to shoot some photos, I could stay warm and stay out. Amazingly it worked. I was able to stay out pretty much the rest of the day. By around two in the afternoon the unfrozen parts of my pants had mostly dried out and I kept going until the sun started to sink close in the west and I just got tired of walking.

I usually take my time and fiddle with my camera and stand around being “one with nature” so that I often am out all day without covering a whole lot of ground. Today was a little different. I walked up hill and down hill, through bright open hardwoods and dense dark stands of pines, around ponds and across open fields. I followed some trails blazed with paint, some marked only by deer tracks, and some places with no trail at all. I explored some new areas by pushing ahead to see what was over the next ridge or around the next bend. Today I did cover a lot of ground.

It was a bit of a whirlwind tour, but at least I was out where as John Muir put it, “the poor insignificant wanderer enjoys the freedom and glory of God’s wilderness.”

MDW

Speaking of Unexpected

Well, once again I wasn’t able to get out for a walk this past week. I seem to be cursed this winter. The weather always falls bad on my days off – not that the weather in the finger lakes area has been that great at anytime this year. One week it’s gale force winds, then it’s freezing ice storms, this last week I spent half the day clearing snow out of the driveway (I have a big driveway).

So once again I’ve pulled a couple of pics out of the vault. I just happened to see these pretty cloud formations late one afternoon and snapped them with a point and shoot digital camera which was the only thing I had handy at the time. The colors and the shapes wavered and swirled and blended as the wind blew and the sun set. The whole thing came and went in the space of about fifteen minutes.

I just happen to be outside at the time getting something out of the car. The rest of the family, including some visiting from out of town, were in the house and didn’t see it. I suppose I should have run inside to tell them, but I was worried it would be gone by the time I could round anyone up and get back outside. Instead I jogged up the road to get a clearer view.

Now these are just tiny photos shot from the hip with a mediocre camera on automatic settings with no tripod so it is one of those “you had to be there” kind of things to get the full effect of the moment. On the other hand I’ll bet that we have all seen something like this at one time or another. Times when we were just minding our own business driving down the road or mowing the lawn or something equally mundane and we look up and see this amazing sunset that dazzles us for a brief instant and then slips from our grasp.

I remember a time as a teenager sitting on top of straw bales stacked high on a farm wagon bumping slowly along a hilltop field. The wagon was full and it was the last load of the day so there was nothing to do but sit back and watch the sky go by on our way back to the barn. It was one of those times when the sky went nuts with unbelievable color. From my high vantage point I could see it reaching out over the whole valley from edge to edge. Although details have gotten hazy over the intervening years, I can still feel the amazement and awe of that moment.

Oddly these moments don’t usually come when I am out hiking or camping. Let’s see there was one in a parking lot on my way to see a rodeo, one or two while driving, at the park on the lake shore with the family, there was that cool sunrise while riding my motorcycle to a hiking spot, looking out the window while eating supper…

MDW

The Unexpected

I’ve spent a lot of time in the woods over the years and that means I’ve had to deal with bad weather. Sometimes I purposely go out on a rainy or snowy day just for the effect. Sometimes I go out when the weather is “iffy” figuring that a 50% chance of sun is the bright side of a 50% storm prediction – rolling the dice doesn’t always pay off. And then there are the times when no matter how carefully I follow the weather reports and pick and choose my trip dates, unexpected things happen anyway. Nature is still unpredictable – cool.

Part of the fun of hiking (for me anyway) is knowing that stuff might happen that I’m not expecting. Of course I’m downright counting on seeing and experiencing new and different colors and textures and shapes and sounds. Even when I walk in places I’ve been many times before, no two days are exactly alike. Growth and change is what the woods is all about. It wouldn’t be very interesting if everything stayed the same all the time.

Beyond that sort of subtle unexpectedness (is that a word?), there are the more staccato events. Maybe I’ll meet a moose. Maybe he will be in a bad mood. Maybe I’ll get caught in a torrential downpour or maybe a freak blizzard that no one saw coming. Maybe I’ll slip on some wet stones and break my leg. Maybe I’ll get lost.

I haven’t ever gotten lost yet (knock on wood). I have been on the edge a few times though. You know when you stop and look around and think that something isn’t right. Sometimes a certain landmark doesn’t show up where it should or you walk and walk and walk and you start to feel like you should have arrived by now, but nothing looks familiar. Fortunately I have been able to keep my head at these points and work my way out.

So far I haven’t broken a leg either (more wood knocking) although I have fallen down some waterfalls and come away with scrapes and bruises and once a wrenched back.

I haven’t met a moose yet; angry or otherwise – I’m still looking.

I’ve been caught in a few snowstorms and I’ve been pounded by thunderstorms more times that I can remember.

Once when my son was around four years old we were taking a little walk up a gully on a warm sunny summer’s day. He was splashing in the stream and we were looking for frogs and crawdads and what not. We came to a tall waterfall that blocked our way so being a good dad I was pushing him up a steep hillside that he was none too sure about climbing when suddenly, and I mean in a matter of minutes, black clouds broke over the top of the mountain and rain started coming down in sheets. The drops were so big they stung when they hit your skin. Lightning was flashing all around and thunder was cracking right over our heads.

We weren’t far from the car so we headed back that way. By the time we got there we were both soaked to the skin and shivering. My son was a little freaked out by it all, but actually took it pretty well – at least he still likes to go hiking with me. When we got home and told our story, no one would believe it. They hadn’t seen a hint of rain all day.

So like where is this blog going? I have no idea. I started out to say that I didn’t go hiking this week because although I don’t mind bad weather, I draw the line at going out in 60mph winds. Then it turned into an aimless ramble. Oh well. I promise to come up with something coherent next time.

MDW