Oh To Be Hiking!

An Early Sign of Spring

2012-01-29T04:25:00.000-08:00

Winter in these parts is pretty mild compared to the seventeen years I lived in Maine, where the standing joke was: "We have two seasons in the State of Maine - winter, and last winter!" But even so, winter is still winter, and yesterday, I saw an early - way too early, I think - sign that spring is coming.

It was during my nine mile half marathon training run. As we ran up Libbie, a tiny splash of color in the strip of grass between the sidewalk and street caught my eye. I stopped and bent over to look at it. Yep, it was single frail little crocus, a light purple color, in bloom by the road. A crocus? On January 28? Way too early, even for here. But it is a sign that spring, which usually starts here in late February, is coming.

What Am I?

2012-01-21T04:46:00.000-08:00

See if you can figure out what I saw last weekend on my short hike near Back Bay.

Let's eliminate the entire plant kingdom and more than a million animal species right off the bat. I have feathers.

Unlike many of you humans (and most of my feathered friends), I mate for life.

As an adult, I weigh about 7 to 10 pounds (3.2 to 4.5 kg).

I nest in colonies, way up in northern Greenland, Canada, and Alaska - above the timber line.

For the winter, I migrate thousands of miles - with no map or GPS or compass - to areas where I can survive and get enough to eat (including Back Bay National Wildlife Refuge in Virginia, USA).

I am usually white as snow with black wingtips, although I have a bluish color phase as well.

One of my close relatives is named after a very large North American country.

I fear eagles but little else as an adult, other than you humans that hunt me. But my chicks lead a perilous life to reach adulthood. Arctic foxes and skuas are deadly enemies of my young.

You might confuse me with a similar large migratory bird that is also white, but this species has a longer neck.

OK, enough clues - time to guess. Scroll down....

I am a snow goose!

On my hike last weekend, I came across a marsh with several hundred snow geese (and some Canada geese and ducks). Several hundred more arrived while I was there. The sight and wild sound of so many creatures so close was amazing!

What Am I?

2012-01-14T05:12:00.000-08:00

What was it I saw on my hike yesterday?

As my name implies, I have no hair.

But on the other hand, that is kind of a misleading clue, because nothing that is related to me has hair. Only mammals do, and I am no mammal.

But on the other hand, it is a great clue, because now you have part of my name, or should.

No, I am not an eagle or even a bird.

I don't eat things. In fact, I use the amazing chemical process of photosynthesis to make food.

I have no feet, I have no legs, but I do have knees.

I have needles, but I don't sew.

My wood is amazingly resistant to rot if you humans make something out of it.

You would be miserable standing around in swamp water all day, but I love it.

In the summer, you might think that I am a kind of pine tree, with my evergreen look. But evergreen is fleeting. This time of year, I am naked as an oak.

Figure it out?

Scroll down....

I am a bald cypress:
Bald cypress knees:

A Lucky Wildlife Sighting on Friday the 13th

2012-01-13T15:16:00.000-08:00

The animal stepped slowly from the brush onto the side of the gravel road that I was walking along during a return from an hour and a half hike in Back Bay Wildlife Refuge. The creature was about 100 feet away as the day rapidly headed towards twilight. It did not appear to see me as I stopped in my tracks. "What is that?" I thought. "Maybe a feral hog?" I reached down to start up my camera and looked down to start zooming with the camera while simultaneously starting to raise the camera up. I figured I could get a better look through the zoom and maybe get a photo. At that exact instant, the animal alertly looked towards me, and a split second later, it ran across the road and disappeared into the brush. At that moment, seeing it move, I realized that I had just seen a bobcat, the first I have ever seen in hundreds of hours roaming around the outdoors. I didn't get a photo, but it is an amazing memory all the same.

It was a cool and very windy day. I did not see much wildlife during the first part of my hike, which started about 4PM and ended just after sunset. But later, the bobcat and some other spectacular wildlife sightings more than made up for that. I will write about some of those later, but here are a couple of photos of the sky today over the marsh and Back Bay:

Where Would You Like to Hike in 2012?

2011-12-31T14:53:00.000-08:00

I passed up a last chance to hike in 2011. The Meetup Group I sometimes hike with had a hike to Reed's Gap planned on a beautiful day that felt more like spring than winter. And they had room for people to still join, which is unusual. But I am running the Shamrock Half-Marathon in less than three months, to celebrate 10 years surviving cancer this spring. And I have not run much at all. So instead, I joined Team in Training for seven badly needed miles this morning. Hiking will have to wait until 2012.

So, here we are, on the cusp of 2012. Where would you like to hike in 2012? Be realistic, taking into account your time availability, finances, and physical condition. In my case, I work full time and have very little time off other than some weekends that I can hike. So although it is not like I have the money to drop everything and leave for the Rockies or South America or Alaska, vacation time limits what I can do more than anything else. So that being said, here are some places I would love to get to in 2012 - and have at least a realistic shot of attaining many of them:

Mt. Rogers - the highest mountain in Virginia, there are dozens of miles of trail in the National Forest there. I'd love to spend a few days hiking there and in Grayson Highlands State Park.

Do another loop in Shenandoah National Park, similar to my three day trip over Trayfoot Mountain a couple of months ago.

White Mountains in New Hampshire - I'd love to do a multi-day-trip to New Hampshire and hike in the Whites, staying at the (by hiking standards) luxurious huts maintained by the Appalachian Mountain Club. But it is at least an all day drive each way from home.

Hike one of Manitou Islands in Lake Michigan, maybe on a trip to see my granddaughter.

Hike or backpack in the Dolly Sods area of West Virginia.

Make it to Trail Days in Damascus, Virginia this coming May. Lots of kindred spirits, bluegrass music, day hiking, and - rumor has it - cold beer.

A bonus would be a trip to a new National Park, and do some hiking - but that is a lot of time and money.

Those are some of my ideas. How about you - where do you hope to hike to in the brand new year? Oh - HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Here are some of the things I am considering from a foot racing point of view in 2012.

Black Rocks Panoramas

2011-12-27T18:51:00.000-08:00

During my three day backpacking circuit over Trayfoot Mountain last month, I visited Black Rocks on the third day. While there, I took a series of photos, side by side, hoping to make a panorama at some point. Having gotten some photo editing software for Christmas, some point is now.

The first panorama combines three photos and shows our approximate camping location from the night before, tucked in behind Horsehead Mountain, well below us down in the Paine Run Valley. The ridgeline of Trayfoot Mountain takes up the rightmost third of the photo.My second panorama combines six photos side by side to show views going from the southwest to the east-northeast. You can see Trayfoot Mountain near the right side of the photo, with a little bit of the Black Rocks in the foreground right.

Poll Results - Hiking Alone

2011-12-26T05:54:00.000-08:00

My poll about hiking along closed yesterday. Here are the results:

Would not hike alone - 0%. I am glad that people are willing, and not afraid, to hike alone!

I'd hike alone, but never anywhere I was not familiar with: 33.33%

I'd hike alone, even someplace new, but I would not go backpacking alone: 33.33%

I'd go backpacking alone: 33.33%

I didn't vote in my own poll, but if I had, I would have been in the backpacking category. Even though I have not gone backpacking alone in a long time, and although I prefer the company of others for a lot of reasons, I would not let it stop me if that was the only way to get a trip in.

Whether you hike alone or with others, have a great time doing it!

Photoless Hike

2011-12-18T05:31:00.000-08:00

As I parked in the parking lot at Back Bay National Wildlife Refuge yesterday morning, I noticed a large group of ducks and several tundra swans just offshore, in good range for a photo using my Sony CyberShot. I pulled out the camera and turned it on. Nothing! The rechargeable battery was dead. But that is not a problem, as I keep a second battery - the camera requires a special battery - in the bag. So I switched batteries, turned the camera on, and - nothing! Another dead battery. This camera takes great photos, but without a battery, the photo quality is the same as a picture taken with a pack of matches. I heard the sound of ducks and swans snickering at me. It reminded me of the time that I walked 10 miles each way to the North Carolina border and my camera batteries were dead. If a picture is worth a thousand words, then this will have to be a long post - but it won't be.

Well, I was there for a hike, and hike I would do. I knew that with no camera, I would be seeing lots of wildlife, and I was not disappointed there. No, a bobcat didn't step into the path and groom itself just feet away. Nothing that spectacular happened. But during my approximately four mile hike, I saw thousands of animals. Yes, thousands!

After leaving the ducks and swans, I headed along the path through the forest. A male cardinal displayed colorfully just feet away from me. Winter warblers flitted in and out of the trees. A great blue heron took off from a small pond, and a belted kingfisher perched high above the pond in a tree. At one point, he took off and made a circular flight above the pond, calling with his distinctive rattling cry as he flew. Despite the cold, a turtle's nose broke the surface like the snorkel from an old Diesel submarine. And at the end of the path, where the bay meets the woods, large number of ducks and swans swam and fed. On the hike back, a group of tundra swans flew directly over my head, about 100 feet above me. It was spectacular! I could hear every wing beat. It would have made a great photo.

As I reached the dike trail, a huge group of grackles flew around. There were hundreds of them. They tended to rise all at once, their voices sounding like hinges in need of oil. I hiked the mile along the dikes to the wildlife observation building, and watched many ducks and swans out in the freshwater. The wild cries of the tundra swans are amazing. They are just arriving from the Hudson Bay area. As I began my return, another huge flight of grackles - over a thousand, I estimated - flew around. They rose and moved like smoke, and as they would take flight from their resting place, it sounded like a wave breaking on rocks - there were that many of them.

I watched a harrier fly over the marsh, and then ended my hike with a short walk on the beach, seeing a single sanderling and a gull. No camera today, so the images have to all be in my brain.

Another Poll

2011-12-11T15:58:00.000-08:00

I got 9 votes on my last poll about your favorite thing about hiking, broken down as follows:

Getting away from it all - 6
Fresh air and exercise - 1
Great scenery - 1
A chance to have an adventure - 1

All others - no votes

So I thought I would try another poll. Would you hike alone? Would you backpack alone? I'll leave the new poll open for a couple of weeks, until Christmas.

Returning to Black Rocks

2011-12-02T02:27:00.000-08:00

On the last day of my three day backpacking trip in Shenandoah National Park a couple of weeks ago, I passed through Black Rocks. It is a spectacular area, with great views, but my lunch stop there had special significance to me that went far beyond any views. It was my first time there since June 2, 2002, the day before I started chemotherapy for Hodgkin's lymphoma.

On that day, nine and a half years ago, I wanted to go for a little hike in the mountains. It was a pretty spring day, and I was dreading what was coming the next day. I knew it would be my last chance to go to the mountains for a while, and to take a short walk there. Part of me, a part I didn't want to admit, wondered if I would survive to ever go again. That type of lymphoma is very treatable, and my odds of making it five years were about 80%, but even so, there is a lot of uncertainty to experiencing cancer. As the oncologist told me, "We are both old enough to know there are no guarantees in life."

Just three days before, on May 30, I'd had surgery to implant a portocath in my chest near my right shoulder. It was tied into my subclavian vein to deliver the chemicals directly into my bloodstream. They would enter that vein, and a second or two later flow into my heart, go through my lungs, return to my heart, and from there, visit every cell in my body. The drugs would cause lots of damage on their little trip, but hopefully as part of that journey, they would also ravage every single lymphoma cell in my chest, abdomen, and wherever else they might be hiding like tiny guerrilla warriors. Because if even one such cell would survive, I'd have to go through it all again in a year or so, with even less certain results. Little did I know, or even imagine, that nine years from the day I had that port put in, my sister Ann would die from breast cancer. She was so worried about me having to go through cancer.

So on June 2, I was still a bit tired from the surgery, and my upper chest was very sore - right where a pack strap would rub. Therefore, I took just a tiny and light day pack on the short - a half mile each way - hike my wife and I made to Black Rocks from the Skyline Drive. I'd been there once before, on a long day hike up Trayfoot Mountain with a group. Now, I kept thinking about chemo the next day. I had gotten a buzz cut, my preemptive strike for my upcoming baldness. I'd seen other people - my stepmother, my father, and my sister-in-law among them - go through chemotherapy, and I knew it was really rough. I was quite worried that I might vomit on a nurse during chemo (I didn't). I knew two of the four chemo drugs were really dangerous, and I wondered if I might survive the cancer but end up dying from the cure. There was a lot to think about, besides just trying to enjoy the mountains, with the mountain laurel in bloom, that June day.Now, nearly ten years later, I was back here. I waited nearly 45 minutes for my hiking buddy, Hawkeye, to arrive. It turns out that he had had a horrible calf cramp. During that time, I explored and climbed over the rocks,and reflected a bit on my journey I had taken to get here since cancer. Three marathons. Two half-marathons. I'd never done either one pre-cancer. Lots of hikes. Healthy enough to carry a 40 pound pack for three days just now. A three-day 60 mile walk just a couple of months before to honor my sister's memory. It was good to be back at the Black Rocks as a healthy person, and that is what I intend on staying for as long as possible.

I was last at Black Rocks in 2002 as a person with cancer, wondering what the next few years would hold for me, dreading starting chemo the next day. More than nine years later, I've returned as a strong survivor.

How Did My New Gear Do?

2011-11-29T16:55:00.000-08:00

On my recent three day backpacking trip, I used three pieces of brand new gear. Well, in a way, it was four. Or maybe five, depending on your point of view. Anyhow, did the gear perform well and hold up? Here is my report.

What is the most important piece of gear for hiking and back packing? Pack? Tent? Sleeping bag? Well, I maintain it is your boots, although with temperatures in the teens, I'd accept a very warm sleeping bag for an answer, too. But if your feet are miserable on a long walk, no other piece of gear is going to make up for that. I have the hardest time finding hiking boots that work for me. They never seem comfortable. Sometimes they are too tight and sometimes they are too loose. I've given up on or returned many a pair of boots. I once got a pair that Backpacker Magazine raved about as instantly comfortable with no break-in needed, and they felt great in the store. But once I started hiking in them, they rubbed and I got blisters every time I wore them, despite trying to break them in. After several months, I returned them (and got a full refund from LL Bean). So it was with trepidation that I recently got yet one more pair of boots, realizing that my current pair that I have had for years never really was very comfortable. I spent hours going through issues of Backpacker looking for highly rated boots, and finally selected several pairs to try. As luck would have it, neither REI or Blue Ridge Mountain Sports had any of the boots I had targeted. So I tried about five or six other pairs. One of them, Keen Targhee mid-height, seemed pretty comfortable, and after much walking around and hemming and hawing, I bought them from REI. I also bought a pair of Sole inserts that Backpacker strongly recommended, since the insoles that come with most hiking boots are minimal. I wore them a lot around town and even on a few hikes, and they still felt pretty good with a little rubbing. So I was really pleased how comfortable they were on this 22 mile hike with two pairs of socks. They felt great - good support, no blisters, and comfortable. We will see what the future holds, but I optimistic that these boots and I will hike happy trails together.
Second on my major gear list was my new tent, the Eastern Mountain Sport Velocity 1. I was very pleased with it, even though it took me a little while to remember how to set up as the darkness rolled in that first night. It was comfortable with good ventilation, although I did try to get the fly closer to the tent on that first very cold night. I had plenty of room - side, head, and foot. My only complaint was that the footprint was too small for the tent, and as I remember when I set it up at the house, it fit perfectly. I could remember wrong, of course. I could sit up to change clothing, and it was easy to get in and out of. Here is my tent, sans fly, the first morning we camped out near Madison Run. My sleeping bag and the tent fly are hanging on a line and airing out behind the tent.
Third on my list of major new gear was my Jetboil SOL stove. I didn't actually cook with it, and have heard mixed reviews about cooking in its little pot with such a concentrated flame. But I did boil water for tea, hot chocolate, and cleaning up, and the stove did this very quickly. Within about 2 minutes of firing it up, I had two or more cups of boiling water.
Now, although not new gear, I used a pair of borrowed Leki trekking poles for the first time on a hike. So they were new to me. I loved them! They especially made steep downhills and stream crossings less difficult, as well as really steep uphills like climbing out of our two campsites up very steep banks. I'll be getting a pair for sure, and may have to (mostly) retire my gnome hiking staff that a friend made for me from a piece of beaver wood.

Finally, although technically my feet are not gear, and are definitely not new even if they were considered to be gear, in a way, I had a new left foot. Because of a bunch of things, especially six months of plantar fasciitis, I have not done a lot of hiking this year. At the end of January, I had surgery to remove a neuroma that had plagued me for years with hiking, running, and long walks. This was my first really long, tough hike since having that surgery - and wearing a 40 pound pack to boot. I am pleased to report that the neuroma surgery seems to have accomplished the goal - no pain in that left forefoot! I still have some numbness, but the pain is finally gone. I was excited by that. Now, if I can only get the heel to get rid of the last plantar fasciitis pain, I'd be really excited! Here I am January 25, the day after my surgery, looking forward to walking normally again someday.

Poll - What is Your Favorite Thing About Hiking?

2011-11-28T17:24:00.000-08:00

I've set up a new poll on my blog. I don't usually get a lot of response from these, but I am nothing if not persistent, so here we go again. I'll leave the poll open until December 10. So vote for what your favorite thing is about hiking. Hopefully, I've covered most of the bases with the choices I put out there, but if not, you can always vote for "other."

As always, comments are welcome.

Austin / Trayfoot Mountains Backpacking

2011-11-25T17:43:00.000-08:00

A week ago, November 18 to 20, I went backpacking for two nights in Shenandoah National Park, hiking about 22 miles over Austin, Furnace, and Trayfoot Mountains, and having a great trip. It took me a while to write my posts about the trip, and have set them up in the reverse order that things usually get posted in Blogger: i.e. oldest posts first instead of newest posts first. In that way, you can read about my trip in a chronological order. Here are my accounts of the trip to this remote part of Virginia: no showers, no bathrooms or toilets or outhouses, no beds, no TV or electricity, no campfires (not allowed) - but lots of fun!

Planning my trip - how did I decide to do this trip and get it planned out?
Preparing to hike for three days - How did I prepare for my trip, and would it be adequate to the task?
Packing my gear - it looked like an REI store and a grocery store exploded in my guest bedroom, but somehow, I got it all crammed into my Millet 60 pack
Trip Overview - where exactly are Austin and Trayfoot Mountain?
Day 1 of the trip - we cut out of work early, and hit the trail by 1PM, but would we find a decent place to camp before dark?
Day 2 of the trip - We climbed, climbed, and climbed some more. Then suddenly, it was all downhill from there.
Day 3 of the trip - It was an uphill hike to the spectacular Black Rocks, then an easy couple of miles back to car and civilization.

Planning a Trip

2011-11-20T21:29:00.000-08:00

We don't get pay raises where I work - at least not for the last four years. We all feel lucky to have a job and benefits. But now and then, they throw us a bone. This past summer, we were each given four hours of extra leave. A month or so ago, I got the idea to use said leave by taking off Friday afternoon and getting in a three day back packing trip. The idea germinated, and I asked a co-worker if he wanted to go. I would go by myself if need be, but much prefer hiking with someone else.

But where should we go? I'd thought of Ramsey Draft Wilderness, but that is popular with hunters. So we will leave that to them, deciding on Shenandoah National Park. There are hundreds of miles of trail. Over the weekend, I started to look at one of my trail guides and maps, and a great sounding trip kind of jumped out at me - a 21 mile circuit in the Southern part of the park that goes by Austin, Furnace, and Trayfoot Mountains, and up past Black Rocks. Chris agreed, and so we are good to go.

At 10AM Friday, we'll cut out of work (starting early that day) and will hit the road. Given time for a lunch break, we should be hiking by 1PM and reach a camping spot four miles later by 4PM - just enough time to put up tents and pick a spot in daylight. The next two days, we will hike about 8.5 miles each day. We are each bringing three meals - breakfast, lunch, and dinner - for two people. I went shopping Wednesday night, came home, and started putting my gear out. Thursday night, I'll see what does and does not fit in my pack. Then Friday, we will hit the trail! Can't wait! The weather looks clear and kind of cold, but not as cold as our trip to The Priest last year.

Preparing for My Three Day Hike

2011-11-20T21:28:00.000-08:00

I've done three marathons, two half marathons, and a half dozen 10K's, all in the last six years. I finished the Susan G. Komen 3-Day for the Cure just about two months ago - a three day walk of nearly 60 miles to combat breast cancer. For every one of these - well, not the latest 10K maybe - I have trained and trained hard. So what have I done to prepare for this backpacking trip that starts tomorrow (as I write this on Thursday, November 17)? After all, we are talking hiking in the mountains for 21 miles, carrying a fairly heavy pack with everything I will need to not freeze to death for three days.

Short answer - not much. Obviously, if I can walk 60 miles (carrying no pack) and run much of a 10K (walking the rest) a few days after that with no preparation for a run, I am at a decent level of fitness. It is not like I have not left the couch for 2 years and eat potato chips all day. I am in pretty good shape, even for a younger man, much less one of my advancing years. But I should have been doing some things to prepare for this tough upcoming hike, more than I have done. Plus no matter what else, I just cannot shake this painful plantar fasciitis after more than six months. It is no where near as bad as it was in May and June, but it still hurts.

So what have I done? Well, you can read about some of it in this blog - several recent hikes, including two in the mountains. And I have tried to break in my new boots, both on hikes and just wearing them.

What else should I have done? Well, lots, actually. I should have been doing a series of strengthening exercises that were in one of my recent backpacker magazines. I should have loaded a pack with 35 pounds of junk - jugs of cat litter, water, whatever - and walked on trails or at least on a treadmill on an incline. But I have been having some back pain, and that made keeping up with some of the exercises painful. And then there is the time factor - there is never enough time to do everything. This working for a living sure takes away from other aspects of life. And then some of that is just making excuses - we all do that.

Bottom line - while I know I am fit enough to do this hike, I could be better prepared physically. Hopefully, I won't pay a high price for my lack of preparation. I will learn soon enough.

Getting Packed Up

2011-11-20T21:26:00.000-08:00

I stared at the pile of gear, clothing, and food with dismay. It looked like a REI Warehouse and a grocery store had exploded in my guest bedroom. I stared at my impossibly small pack. a Millet 60, meaning it has a 60 liter capacity.It is a nice pack, good for a weekend or even a bit longer in mild weather. The problem is, it is not mild weather where I am heading. Lows will be in the 20's, highs in the 40's or maybe even up to the mid-50's by Sunday. That means I have to bring a bulky sleeping bag that will not fit in the pack's sleeping bag compartment, so I have to put it in the pack itself. It seems to take up nearly a third of the pack's main compartment capacity. There is no room for a winter coat. I've crammed my tent, some layers and spare clothing, gloves, rain gear, camping gear, and emergency gear in there. With three liters of water and food, it weighs 41 pounds. I crammed everything in there, but it is top heavy, so I will try to rearrange things tomorrow (Friday) at the trailhead. But for now, I am ready to go. All I have to remember is to get my dinner packet out of the fridge - it includes cheeses and butter so I don't want to leave it sitting out at room temperature all night - and load the pack in the car.

Then, Friday morning, it is in to work from seven to ten, then heading for the mountains for three chilly days. Should be fun!

Austin and Trayfoot Mountain Trip Overview

2011-11-20T21:20:00.000-08:00

Over the next few days as time permits, I'll be writing detailed accounts of my three day backpacking trip over Austin, Furnace and Trayfoot Mountains in Shenandoah National Park, and posting bunches of photos, but I will start with an overview of my trip. It was a 22 mile loop, as measured by my GPS (including a bit of backtracking to find camp sites). We started and ended at Browns Gap, and traveled on a number of connecting trails. Here is an overall map of the route. Brown's Gap is on the upper right hand side of the map where the first day's route, colored in magenta begins. The day ended 5.7 miles later as we camped by Madison Run after crossing Austin Mountain. The second day's route, marked in orange, was 9.8 miles and climbed steeply over Furnace and Trayfoot Mountains before dropping sharply down to Paine Run where we camped for a second night. The third day, a 6.8 mile trek marked in red, ascended steadily up the Paine Run trail, then continued on the Appalachian Trail for a steep climb to Black Rocks and thence back to Browns Gap.

We had dry weather, but very cold Friday night into Saturday morning, with a low of 18 F. It was a chilly night camping out by the stream. We saw hardly any wildlife, and nothing notable (other than a pileated woodpecker as we drove out of the park). The trip was a lot of fun. Stay tuned for detailed accounts.

Here is a summary of the miles and elevation gains:

Day 1 -
Distance 5.7 miles
Minimum Elevation 1,382 feet
Maximum Elevation 2,839 feet
Climbing Elevation 1,269 feet
Descending Elevation 2,441 feet

Day 2 -
Distance 9.8 miles
Minimum Elevation 1,359 feet
Maximum Elevation 3,340 feet
Climbing Elevation 3,238 feet
Descending Elevation 3,155 feet

Day 3 -
Distance 6.8 miles
Minimum Elevation 1,495 feet
Maximum Elevation 3,094 feet
Climbing Elevation 2,117 feet
Descending Elevation 1,026 feet

Trip Total -<
Distance 22.3 miles
Minimum Elevation 1,359 feet
Maximum Elevation 3,340 feet
Climbing Elevation 6,624 feet
Descending Elevation 6,622 feet

Austin and Trayfoot Mountain Trip: Day 1

2011-11-20T21:15:00.000-08:00

My friend Chris and I left work at 10AM Friday November 18, right as planned. And right as planned, we started our hike just after 1PM from Brown's Gap on the Skyline Drive. Plans were to reach our first day destination, Madison Run, about three hours later, which would give us plenty of time to find a great camping site along the stream. My guide book hinted that great camping sites would probably be leaping out at us. So we headed out, starting on the Appalachian Trail for a short distance, then heading west on the Big Run Loop Trail. I had hiked on this trail on my last mountain hike around Big Run. From there, we would stay west on the Rockytop Trail for a little ways, then finish the day with a few miles on the Austin Mountain Trail. We would cross near the summit of Austin Mountain, and then descend steeply into the valley. It would be our shortest and easiest hike of our three day trip. Topo maps and a three day representation of the hike are shown here in magenta (we started on the southeast point of this map at Brown's Gap):
We would start at an elevation of about 2,530 feet, climb to a high of 2,829 feet, and then descend to our camping spot at 1,382 feet. Along the way, we would gain 1,269 feet and descend 2,441 feet. My DeLorme PN-60w GPS captured the track, and DeLorme Topo USA later showed the elevation profile of the day's hike:
At the start of the hike, I tried to adjust my 40 pound pack, and ended up making more adjustments along with way with Chris's help. He has much more recent backpacking experience than do I, and offered many helpful suggestions along the way.
Here is Chris, climbing along the Appalachian Trail near the start of the hike. We had very nice afternoon weather, and soon removed our outer layers.
The first several miles had minimal views, as we hiked through mostly second growth hardwood forests. Even with the lack of leaves, it was hard to get open views. But as we moved on to the Austin Mountain Trail, the views opened up and we had tremendous views for several miles, such as this:
We also got a good look at Furnace Mountain, which we would climb the next day, looming across the Madison Run Valley:
Along the steep slopes of Austin Mountain, we encountered four or five rock slides, like this one. It made for slow and cautious going:
It is hard to tell from this photo how steep the rock slides were, but they were extensive and very steep.We looked for wildlife, especially snakes, but saw none, although I caught a quick glimpse of legs and a tail disappearing under a rock. I think it was a large lizard.

Chris took this great photo of lichens on a rock. Maybe it is the Mickey Mouse formation?
We also got a final glimpse of fall as the trail descended, and I also saw this beautiful orange bracket fungus on a log at around the same point.
Not too much past 4PM, more or less on schedule, we arrived at the gravel fire road along Madison Run. It would be light for about an hour, but the temperature was dropping rapidly and I added a layer. My guide said that there were great campsites along the stream, so we started looking. And looking. And looking. Chris saw a potential campsite in the woods across the stream, but there was no clear way to cross without wading, so we kept looking. We finally crossed the stream and headed back through the woods. Every spot was covered with small or large trees, or rocks, or brush, or was too wet. It started to get semi-dark. Then Chris, who's trail name is "Hawkeye," spotted the site we had seen earlier from the road. It was far from great but adequate, and just a stone's throw from the stream. We set up our tents just before the darkness enfolded us. I took this picture of our campsite in the morning. My tent is the one on the left:
Chris, after some searching, located a "bear bag" tree in near darkness - one with a branch close enough to the ground to throw a rope over to haul bags of food up there, but not so close to the ground for a bear to reach up. We heated water for dinner in the dark: prepackaged commercial freeze-dried meals - just add boiling water, filtered from Madison Run - to the pouch and let it sit for 10 minutes.

By now, it was below freezing and the temperature continued to drop. Snow flurries came and went. We sat out by the stream for a while, giving us a great view of the starry night sky. Chris saw several meteorites, but I was always looking the wrong way. At 7:00, completely cold from the air and from sitting on cold rocks, we went to bed. I didn't sleep that well, since my thin sleeping pad kept getting cold from the ground. But I was fairly warm, despite the 18 degree F temperature in the morning. I slept in long underwear, my heavy hiking socks, two shirts, and my winter hat. I also kept my water bottle, camera, GPS, and Spot in my sleeping back, and kept banging into them. When I wasn't sleeping, I enjoyed listening to the stream as it babbled along. I also got to listen to Chris snoring about 8 feet away. The steam sounded better than his snores. Trust me! And there were plenty of times when I was sleeping and heard neither one. I came outside for a few bathroom breaks - although of course, there are no bathrooms in the woods, as a female co-worker was amazed to learn this week when we told her about our hike - and about froze for 30 seconds each time. But then I would quickly warm up in my warm sleeping bag. All in all, it was a great start to our adventure!

With my Spot and my GPS, I sent a message with the exact location of our campsite here.

Austin and Trayfoot Mountain Trip: Day 2

2011-11-20T21:10:00.000-08:00

Saturday morning, November 19, it was 18 degrees around first light, and I couldn't force myself out of my warm sleeping bag at first. Finally, I got up and crawled outside, putting on all my barely adequate layers, gloves, and hat. We'd heard a screech owl call the night before as we sat in the cold watching the stars, the only real evidence of wildlife in our area. I could hear gunshots booming outside the park, as deer season was in full swing. While hunting is not as big here as in the hunter-mad states of Pennsylvania and Maine, it is still fairly popular. So I decided to explore a bit while Chris still slept to see if I could find anything, and also to try to (unsuccessfully) warm up. Eventually, finding nothing, I returned to camp and ate some trail mix. When Chris got up, we decided it was too cold to eat the powdered eggs he brought, and each had a bagel for breakfast. We packed up, got some water - not enough as it turned out - and started the day's hike at 10AM. Here is a map of the route - we started from the campsite waypoint at the top of the map, and ended the day at the campsite waypoint at the bottom (the waypoint near Furnace Mountain is a mistake): We had a minimum elevation of 1,359 feet, climbed most of the first half plus of the hike to a high of 3,340 feet, and then descended to our camping spot at around 1,470 feet. Along the way, we would gain a total of 3,238 feet and descend 3,155 feet. Here is the elevation profile of the day's 9.8 mile hike. Furnace Mountain is the summit about 2.5 miles in, and Trayfoot Mountain is the summit about 5 miles along:We clambered back up to the fire road, and walked a short distance to the Furnace Mountain trail head, then started ascending. Much of the hike up was steep, and it didn't take long for me to stop and remove my fleece. As we climbed, Trayfoot Mountain loomed high above us in the distance.
As we hiked upward, three men passed us - the first people we had seen since starting the trip the day before. They were part of a meet-up hiking group from the Washington - Baltimore area, and they had started from Brown's Gap early that morning to do a circuit day hike. There were a total of a dozen of them, and they joined us on the rocky summit of Furnace Mountain (click here to see my Spot check-in point) for lunch. There were great views there, and we had good conversation, plus a meal of peanut butter and orange marmalade on bagels, homemade oatmeal - raisin - chocolate chip cookies, apples, and Hershey bars. My pack lost a good two pounds of weight from the lunch break. Here are some of the views, the first being Austin Mountain, where we had hiked the day before:
Chris relaxes on the edge of the Furnace Mountain summit,
and here I stand on the same edge:
Our new found friends had left by now, and soon we did as well. After leaving our great lunch spot on Furnace Mountain, we descended the half mile back to the trail to Trayfoot and resumed climbing. It was a fairly continuous climb, and along the way, I stopped getting water out of my camel-back. When I unpacked my pack to take a look at it, I was shocked to learn that I had consumed both liters of my water already. Because I had so much water left from yesterday's hike, I had assumed that I would not need more than two liters today and had not replenished my water store.. But the steep climbing had made me drink more than the day before. My separate water bottle had only about a cup and a half in it. Chris had about the same. It was going to be a long, dry hike the rest of the day. We continued the climb, steep at times, to the Trayfoot summit - with a great view of Black Rocks, tomorrow's main destination, just before reaching the summit. Then, we started the descent.

After all the climbing we had done that day, much of it with very little water, it felt good to go mostly downhill along the ridgeline and then the steep descending trail. I got more and more thirsty. We each had less than a pint of water each for the last 6 miles of the hike. We knew we could get water at Paine Run, though. We got partial views from the ridge, but I thought this rocky area on Trayfoot's ridgeline was pretty neat:Every now and then, we got some clear views from the ridgeline, like this one of the Shenandoah Valley two thousand feet below about an hour before sunset:
The last four and a half miles of the hike was a steady descent along the Trayfoot Mountain ridgeline and down into Lefthand Hollow and the Paine Run area. Here is Chris booking it down the trail not too long before sunset:
We reached Paine Run, where my guide book promised many great campsites. Again, the land was so steep or heavily wooded or rocky that we just couldn't find any. We crossed Paine Run on rocks, looking for a campsite that couple we met along the way told us about, right by a little waterfall on the stream. We found the falls, but no good campsite. We kept walking, and started to climb, leaving the stream behind, and we knew that we would have to turn around and find a spot. It was nearly dark now as we retraced our steps. "There!" said "Hawkeye", pointing down a steep slope through the forest. It looked like a little spot of flat land, and when we checked it out, it looked just big enough for two tents. (Click here for my Spot check-in location of our campsite). So we immediately started putting up our tents as the last light faded.

Tents up, Chris pumped us enough water to slake our increasing thirst and for dinner, while I searched for a suitable tree to hand our food bags. Then I made our meal for the night, a delicious - if I say so myself - pasta and cheese dish called Debsconeag Easy 'Roni that I got from a Backpacker Magazine. We ate quickly before the food cooled too much, and split a big chunky bar for desert. We put the dirty dishes in ziplock bags and then into our food bags and hung the bags high in the tree. We walked downstream in the dark and found the spot where we had crossed and sat there for about 30 minutes, listening for owls - none tonight - and looking at the stars. Then, about 8PM or so, we returned to our tents and hit the sack. We were both tired and I slept great that night. It was at least 20 degrees F warmer and a much more comfortable night.

Here are some photos of our camping area. Our tiny campsite was on a little patch of flat ground about 20 feet below, and down a very steep slope from, the trail. There was barely enough room for two tents, and we sat between them to cook and eat:
Paine Run, a beautiful stream, ran about eight feet below our camping spot in elevation and maybe 20 feet away in straight-line distance. I loved listening to it babble along while we camped there:
Before we started our hike the next morning, Chris used his filter to get water for breakfast and for the day's hike ahead from Paine Run. We didn't repeat the mistake of the day before, and got plenty of water, even though our hike would be much shorter today:
This photo gives a good indication of the terrain in the area - very little flat land. This is the start of Horsehead Mountain rising just across from Paine Run where we camped.

Austin and Trayfoot Mountain Trip: Day 3

2011-11-20T21:06:00.000-08:00

I woke up about 6AM on Sunday, November 20. It was still dark, so I decided to just lie peacefully in my comfortable sleeping bag and listen to Paine Run gurgling along just below our tents. When it got lighter, I boiled water with my Jetboil stove and cleaned out my bowl from the previous night with the hot water. Then I brewed a mug of Irish Breakfast tea, - yes, I am a tea fiend - added some honey, and sat on the ground enjoying the tea. When Chris got up, I made some Glade oats and pecans for breakfast, using another recipe out of Backpacker Magazine. I also mixed up a cup of instant milk for our oatmeal. Then, we struck our tents, packed up our gear, and were ready to hit the trail by 9:15.

Here, marked in red, is our route for the day, leaving our campsite in the southwest part of the map and reaching Brown's Gap in the northeast part of the map:
We had a minimum elevation of 1,495 feet, climbed most of the first two thirds of the hike to a high of 3,094 feet at Black Rocks, and then descended to my car at Brown's Gap. Along the way, we would gain a total of 2,117 feet and descend 1,026 feet. Here is the elevation profile of the day's 6.8 mile hike. Black Rocks is the high point about four miles in.
The first mile or so of the day's hike was easy and pleasant, but we could see where we were heading looming above us:
A piliated woodpecker did quite a job on this snag:
Here I am, crossing Paine Run again as the trail crosses it:
From this point, the trail began to climb steadily out of the Paine Run Valley, reaching Black Rock Gap on the Skyline Drive after a total of about three miles. After leaving Black Rocks Gap, the hike up the Appalachian Trail to Black Rocks is continuous uphill and often steep. It gains about 800 feet in about 1.3 miles.
As you climb higher and higher up the AT, some nice views of the Blue Ridge start coming into sight:
Black Rocks is a pretty cool area, one that I had not been to in nine years. I think it formed when a cliff collapsed eons ago. I arrived about a half hour ahead of Chris, who had a painful calf cramp during the steep hike up. I explored a bit and ate some trail mix, took photos, and climbed over the rocks, hoping in vain to find a snake on the cool, windy summit. Here are some of the photos:

Black Rocks:
Trayfoot Mountain is only a mile or so away by direct trail from Black Rocks, but the way we took was nearly 10 miles:
Deep down in this valley, behind the low mountain just right of center and to the left of the mountain (Horsehead Mountain) tucked behind that mountain, is where we camped last night:
Mountains in the distance beyond Black Rocks:
I asked a couple of women to snap this photo of me on top of Black Rocks:
A cave I found in the rocks:
Chris at the bottom of Black Rocks:
After Black Rocks, our hike ended with a gradual descent for about 2.5 miles along the Appalachian Trail back to my car at Brown's Gap. It had been a great trip, despite the lack of wildlife sightings, but now it was time to get home and get a hot shower!

What Am I?

2011-11-13T17:24:00.000-08:00

I saw an animal on my marsh and beach walk on Veterans' Day. See if you can figure out what it is from the clues...

I have a backbone, making me a vertebrate.

I am warm blooded.

I can fly very well, but am often seen walking very quickly.

I have feathers.

You already know that I am found either in the marsh or along the beach. It is the latter - the beach.

I am just a few (5 to 8) inches tall.

I hunt randomly for small animals, mostly crustaceans, that are buried in the sand.

As I hunt, I walk so fast that my little legs are almost a blur. If you humans could move your legs as fast, you could run 100 meters in just a few seconds.

I catch prey by stabbing my bill into the sand over and over. I usually hunt at the edge of the sand, since the wet sand is easier to get my bill into.

Figure it out yet?

Scroll down....

I am a sanderling, often called a sandpiper.

Veterans' Day Marsh and Beach Hike

2011-11-12T13:31:00.000-08:00

I gave thanks often on Veterans' Day to the many people who have served our country over the centuries. Included in this group are my late step-father Stuart Silverman (WW II, Pacific Theater), my older brother Chris Ritter (Vietnam), and my nephew Kelly Rainbird (Iraq War).

I was at the beach, and decided to hike in Back Bay National Wildlife Refuge, giving me some more time on foot in my new hiking boots. I hiked a little on the trails and gravel roads through the marsh, and walked a mile or so each way down the beach. Along the way, I saw a deer, a rabbit, a great blue heron, and large flocks of tundra swans back from their arctic breeding season. I also heard a kingfisher's rattling cry, and saw a few other kinds of animals, but we will leave those for later.

Here are some photos from my hour and a half of walking. This one reminded me a bit of a natural Christmas wreath in the marsh, along with some cattails:

I left the marsh to head down this long walkway over the dunes to the beach:
Here is a view of the ocean just past the dunes:
I found this small whelk shell on the beach:
A herring gull flies over the waves:
Before leaving the beach, I took a shot of the beach down towards North Carolina, about 8 or 9 miles of pristine beach away.
I found this deer's backbone, skull, a mandible, and a bunch of ribs in the marsh. The other mandible and several leg bones were scattered about. It is hard to know how it died, but it was obvious that animals fed on the carcass and scattered its bones about.
A flock of tundra swans soars over Back Bay:
Sunset over the marsh and Back Bay. It was not as spectacular as the sunset last New Years Eve that I posted about here and wrote verse about here, but it was still a beautiful way to end my hike:

New Gloves

2011-11-12T03:24:00.000-08:00

I am planning a backpacking trip soon, and I realized that I need a pair of gloves. I had a decent pair last winter until a bitterly cold day (yes, we have those on occasion) here in Ole Virginny when I ran into this homeless lady who was begging. She had a sign which said that she was out of luck and trying to get back home. I bought her a cup of coffee and a sandwich, and chatted with her for a few minutes. She was trying to get back to Maine and she looked so sad. I went back to my office and looked up a bunch of places where she might get help, then returned with the places and locations written down for her. I noticed that she didn't have any gloves, so I gave her mine. I figured I at least had a warm place to be that day, in my office. So now, I need new ones.

I found several pairs I liked at Blue Ridge Mountain Sports, but they were all for women. Maybe I am getting in touch with my feminine side? I don't know! I kept looking and found a good pair of men's gloves that I liked. They are waterproof, unlike the pair I gave away. They also have a pair of light liner gloves, which will do two things - create a dead air space and give me the ability to have some minimal warmth by taking off the outer layer if I have to do some task requiring dexterity.

As a footnote, a couple of months later, I ran into the same woman at the same spot. It was another fairly cold day, but nowhere as bad as the prior time. "Didn't you ever get to Maine?" I asked, a little incredulous. "Yes," she said, "But I came back to go to a funeral of a friend." I bought her a cookie this time. I noticed that her hands were bare, but didn't have gloves to give her this go around, as my hands were bare, too.

What Am I?

2011-11-10T02:01:00.000-08:00

I had hoped to find this increasing rare animal on my hike in Lake Anna State Park last Sunday, because I have seen them near there. Over the years, I have seen more black bears on hikes than this shy and slow creature. So I decided to write about this animal anyway, since I could have seen one. I kept looking for one as I walked along, at any rate.

I have a backbone, like you.

I hibernate in the winter.

I am cold blooded, unlike you.

I am an omnivore, but eat more plant material than animal.

I have a pretty long life - averaging 50 years if I survive to adulthood - if I have enough undisturbed habitat.

Although there are things that would like to eat me, I don't have a lot of enemies in the natural world - once I am big enough. But in your world, cars and habitat destruction are mortal enemies, and something I have no defense against.

My ancestors were on our lovely green and blue planet 230 million years ago. That is before the dinosaurs and so long before humans that we won't even discuss it. I've been here at least five million years, by the way.

Most of you would have no desire to eat me, but if you ever do, watch out! I love mushrooms, including kinds that will kill you, and the toxins can linger in my flesh. What don't you eat a nice salad instead?

Most of my relatives live in water, but I live exclusively on land. I might often be near water, though.

People often will collect me as a pet if they find me. But if you do encounter me, please leave me in my native habitat.

Like knights of old, I have armor. Unlike knights of old, I stay away from horses and won't try to impale you with a sword. You would call my armor a shell.

There are four species of me, all in North America.

One of my close relatives (the wood turtle) who also lives on land, is partially protected by his armor, too. But if he is unlucky enough to be caught by a raccoon, the raccoon is likely to chew his legs and feet. Not me - I can fully protect myself by closing my shell tight like a box.

I close my shell with hinges on the bottom near the front and back.

Figure it out?

Look below....

I am a box turtle! (Photo taken in Dutch Gap Conservation Area in 2008)

Lake Anna State Park

2011-11-06T13:58:00.000-08:00

After driving 870 miles from Northern Michigan over two days, I was feeling tired but in need of some exercise. So I decided on hiking a few miles at Lake Anna State Park, located about an hours drive from my home, and with 15 miles of trail to choose from. I hiked about 4.5 miles, making a loop out of the Turkey Run, Big Woods, Glenora, and Sawtooth Trails. It was a beautiful fall day, just cool enough for a long sleeved shirt but not so cool as to require a jacket. I saw wonderful fall colors on the way up and back, and on the hike. Our colors are peaking in Piedmont Virginia. They are not as gorgeous as say Northern New England or the Adirondacks, but still beautiful enough. I saw very little wildlife. Although I had hoped to find an animal that is increasingly rare and that lives in this area, I could not find any. I enjoyed my hike this afternoon, plus it gave me a chance to try my new boots under hiking conditions. Here is a view of the trees by the road at the start of my hike:
I saw a number of hikers, but even more horses and riders.
How about these interesting "double" trees? The second one is red cedars, and it is unusual I would think to find this condition among softwoods. Botanists - correct me if I am wrong.
There were lots of fall colors along these trails:
Part of the Big Woods Trail had views of this pretty Lake Anna cove:
I didn't see or hear any woodpeckers, but I did find their handiwork.
This smokehouse is all that remains from a large farm that used to occur here:
Mother Nature's finery:

What Am I?

2011-11-03T03:55:00.001-07:00

See if you can guess another animal that I saw on my Big Run hike a few weeks ago. (Here is a link to my other mystery animal from that hike.)

I have a backbone, like you, making me a vertebrate.

I live on land and breath air just like you do. But I don't have lungs. Instead, I breath through my skin.

I have legs, like you do. But I have four legs, not two. And unlike you, I am poikilothermic, or cold blooded. So I can't regulate my temperature myself.

I am perhaps the most common vertebrate in the forest. But people rarely see me because I am always hiding under something so my skin stays moist. Otherwise, I would suffocate. I need it to be cool and moist where I live.

I reproduce by laying eggs. But unlike most of my closely related species, I lay eggs on land, not in water.

I eat very small invertebrates, as I am a small animal myself - just a few inches long.

I have congressional districting techniques named after me - well, kind of!

Have you figured it out yet?

Scroll down.....

I am a terrestrial salamander.

(I think this is a red-backed salamander, just the "lead" phase)

Oh, Deer!

2011-10-23T16:08:00.000-07:00

This morning, I went to Back Bay National Wildlife Refuge again for a short hike of maybe 3 miles. I bought a new pair of hiking boots last week and am trying to break them in prior to a more serious hike. This hike seemed like just the ticket. Unlike my hike here of two weeks ago, I saw a fair amount of wildlife: a garter snake, two aquatic turtles, an egret, lots of warblers, and two white-tailed deer. Here are a few photos, starting with cattails in the marsh.
Bald cypress cones high in a tree.
Catching a few rays in a small freshwater pond.
This shrub was covered with beautiful white flowers along the trail.
Ripe persimmons ready for the picking, if you can climb that high.
I am not sure what this flowering aquatic plant is, but it was very pretty.
Near my turn-around point, I saw these two deer. They were wary but never did run, eventually just trotting off as I walked past them.

My New Tent

2011-10-22T12:08:00.000-07:00

My first time truly backpacking, I was 20 years old and alone in the wilds of Isle Royale National Park in Lake Superior. I'd hitchhiked for two days to get there after my car broke near Dayton, Ohio. I carried a ridiculously heavy pack, since everything I needed while hitching rides and camping were in it, but the one thing I didn't have was a tent. I slept on a groundcloth and as a result, I got chewed alive by mosquitoes at night, and soaked to the skin in heavy thunderstorms. Before I went on another trip, I bought a great tent that lasted decades until I made the mistake of loaning it to my son.

When I went backpacking up the Priest a year ago, I borrowed a friend's tent, and didn't much care for it. It was very difficult to get in and out of, and you could not sit up in it. So that made me realize that I wanted a tent with an entrance on the side, and more head room. After a lot of searching, I bought an Eastern Mountain Sports Velocity 1 last spring. The idea was that I would join a friend for a few days while he hiked the southern half of the Appalachian Trail. Then I developed bad plantar fasciitis, and he broke his ankle, which pretty well knocked those plans for a loop. So for five months, the tent has sat in my closet, unpacked.

Well, that changed today. I am planning on a three day backpacking trip next month. Hopefully, it won't be as cold as a year ago. And I figured I'd better learn how to put the tent up under dry and sunny conditions so that I might have a chance getting it set up if it is dark and/or raining. So I took the tent out on the patio, and spent a good half hour learning how to set it up. Then I took it all down, packed it up, and set it up again. This time, it only took about six minutes, not counting staking down the tent (the stakes are not going to go into a concrete patio real well). I think I will like this tent. It is light weight, about two pounds 14 oz. I also bought the "footprint," which adds a few ounces but will extend the life of the tent. It is not nearly as roomy as my pink tent that I slept in for two nights during the Susan G. Komen 3-Day, but it doesn't need to be.

Why get just a one person tent? Well, it saves a couple of pounds, and even if I go camping with a friend, it is more comfortable to sleep in your own tent. Two people in a two person tent - roughly 6.5 by 4 feet - have to be two very friendly people. My wife is as likely to join me on a backpacking trip as I am to wear a pink dress to work and spray paint "My Boss is an Idiot" all over my workplace. In fact, she is even less likely to go backpacking. So a one person tent should fit the bill.

Here are some photos as I set it up, starting with a picture of the "foot print" on the patio and everything else still bundled up.
The pole system is really cool. It is one assembly, all shock-corded together. There are little balls at the end of each pole that snap into an assembly at each corner of the tent. And there are things on the tent that snap on to various parts of the poles to make the tent open up. It is very easy, once you learn how it works.
Here is the tent set up without the fly. If there was a zero percent chance of rain at night, and it was a warm night, this would not be a bad way to sleep.
All set up and showing the side entrance with the vestibule pulled back.
View with the rain fly on and pulled out as well as I could without staking it down.
Inside view towards my feet.

What Am I?

2011-10-20T17:21:00.000-07:00

Let's see if you can guess this animal that I saw during my hike last Saturday to Big Run in Shenandoah National Park. Scroll down slowly to uncover the clues.

Like you, I have a backbone.

I am cold blooded, unlike you.

I am a carnivore, 100%. Keep your nasty salad, give me a delicious, fat, wriggling earthworm!

I almost always only eat live prey, and I swallow it whole, alive, and struggling.

If you don't know a lot about me, you may fear me.

I have no legs at all, but can move around, swim, and even climb just fine without them.

Yell as loud as you like, but I cannot hear you.

I am not poisonous, but grab me, and I may bite you. I will certainly release an awful smelling (and tasting) musk.

I give birth to live young, but I am no mammal. You probably already figured that out, though.

I have a variety of color patterns to my skin, but I am most commonly thought of as having yellowish stripes.

Have you figured it out yet?I am a garter snake!

Big Run Circuit Hike

2011-10-18T01:51:00.000-07:00

My second hike last Saturday in Shenandoah National Park was a 5.8 mile circuit hike in the Big Run watershed. It could not have been more different than my earlier hike up Turk Mountain the same day. It did not have the dramatic views of the mountaintop vistas, but it did have solitude in a beautiful forest that is rapidly changing to autumn. I hoped to see bear, but was disappointed. In fact, I saw very little wildlife: a downy woodpecker, a warbler of some kind, and two aquatic salamanders, as well as a couple of other animals that I will talk about in later posts.

For most of the hike, I saw only two people - a couple I passed descending towards the stream. I saw a few others on the ridge hike out of the watershed, and then a number of hikers and backpackers on the Appalachian Trail over the last mile. Here is a map of the route, as well as an elevation profile. The first part of the hike is a steady decline into the watershed, the middle third is a moderate climb back out - gaining 600 feet in the first mile after the stream - and the final part is ridge hiking with minor up and downs.Near the start of the hike, there is an overlook on the Skyline Drive where one can see much of the Big Run watershed, where I will be descending into shortly.
This hike goes through lovely forest, and is very tranquil and soothing.
Mother Nature likes to change the carpets and her decorating scheme this time every year:
Big Run may not look like much, but it was tricky to cross without getting my feet wet. Without my hiking stick - and trekking poles would have been better - I think wet boots would have been the result. I ate lunch here, my typical PB&J:
At this point, I've gained 1,000 feet or so from my luncheon spot at Big Run, and started to get some partial views again.
I think this is sassafras, decked out in orange for Halloween.
The last mile or so of the hike is on the Appalachian Trail, as I passed by this dramatic rocky area.
Here is my final vista of the hike, the eastern view from the Doyle River Overlook on the Skyline Drive as the Appalachian Trail passes by. My beautiful hike is nearly over.

Hike Up Turk Mountain

2011-10-16T03:50:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was going to be a beautiful fall day, and because of some upcoming things, it might be my last chance to get up in the mountains with fall colors, so I decided to go for a couple of hikes by myself. Usually, I prefer hiking with others, but I had to be home by 4 or so to go to a concert (Vishten, beyond fantastic, and if you ever have a chance to see them, run, don't walk. They were amazing!). So I decided to get a very early start, hike at my own pace, and leave the mountains by 2 so as not to be late. I was out of my house by 6:10 and headed towards Shenandoah National Park, buying a new annual pass at the entrance station.

I drove about 10 miles up the Skyline Drive and pulled into the parking lot. I was ready to start up Turk Mountain before 8:30. I chatted with a group of boyscouts and their leaders from Hampton. They had camped out the night before and were going to be out the rest of the weekend. They surely had glorious weather. It was crisp and cool, with a strong wind at times. I put on a second layer, shouldered my pack, and hit the trail for the first of two hikes. This was going to be fairly steep, and mostly a nice hike through the forest and up the mountain. The first little bit was on the Appalachian Trail.

Here is a topo map and elevation profile of my out-and-back route of about 2.3 miles. To see exactly where I was, click here.
I peered into this cave not far from the top, but didn't see anything.
Self portrait:
A large rock fall on the way up looked like a great place for rattlesnakes, but I didn't see any.
Turk Mountain has a small, rocky summit. There is not a lot of room up there to spread out. The view from the top is wonderful at 360 degrees. These next three photos show it to the west over Virginia's Shenandoah Valley panning north to the mountains in the park. I could look almost straight down from the top of Turk Mountain's small summit. You can see that there is still a lot of green. From here, I retraced my steps back to car, meeting only the boy scouts that I saw in the parking lot as they hiked up the mountain for the view.

Dawn over the Atlantic

2011-10-10T04:59:00.000-07:00

Last New Year's Eve, I saw a spectacular sunset over Back Bay, and wrote about it here. This morning, I stood on the beach about 20 minutes before sunrise, and snapped photos every few minutes until the sun came up. I will let the pictures, from about 15 minutes before sunrise to about five minutes after sunrise, each be a thousand words, and speak for themselves....

Back at Back Bay

2011-10-09T18:50:00.000-07:00

Just two weeks after the Komen 3-Day for the Cure, and one week after running in the Livestrong Dolphin Challenge 10K at the beach, my plantar fasciitis is feeling a bit worse than it had been. But it is still not as a bad as before, so I decided to go on a hike back at Back Bay National Wildlife Refuge. It was good to be back, for the first time in five months. I hiked about four miles, starting just minutes after dawn. I love being outside in the early morning, and have for a long time. I didn't find any amazing wildlife, other than a huge flock of swallows that flew over me. Here are some photos from my little hike this morning.

This guy and I were the only ones in the parking lot when I got there. He was launching his kayak, and I waited a second to capture him for my blog.
Panoramic marsh view.
Early morning view out across Back Bay and the marshes.
I hiked a long a dike with fresh water along most of the way. I sometimes see wildlife in the water ways, including a river otter once, but not today.
I ended my hike with a quick stop at the beach at the wild Atlantic. The beach is pristine for about nine miles to the south from this point.

Teddy Roosevelt's Island

2011-09-27T02:45:00.001-07:00

So here I was last Thursday afternoon about 3:45, all by myself in Arlington, Virginia, where I was spending the night before arising at 3:40AM Friday to start the Susan G. Komen 3-Day for the Cure. Should I curl up in my nice hotel room with a good book? Or sit in an outside cafe and have a mug of tea or a cold beer? Stay off my feet? That would be the smart thing. That would be the sensible thing. Or I could take a hike. Not smart just hours before starting a 3 day long 60 mile walk. Not sensible. But fun. Well, guess which I did? Go on, guess!

Theodore Roosevelt, our 26th and youngest president, was a fascinating and somewhat contradictory man. He was the winner of the Nobel Peace Prize and also was a war hero, a winner of the Congressional Medal of Honor. (His oldest son also won the Medal of Honor, and I wonder if they are the only father - son combination in American history to do so). He was a naturalist, a big game hunter, and a conservationist - as president, he created the National Wildlife Refuge System and took many other innovative conservation actions by bypassing Congress with executive orders. He was an accomplished author, and wrote something like 30-40 books, one of which was considered the definative history of the US Navy in the War of 1812. He was a rich city-born-and-raised kid who became a tough rancher in the Dakata frontier. He was a nearly life-long Republican who cost the GOP the 1912 election when he ran against Taft as an independent in the Bull Moose Party. He was an explorer who nearly died navigating down the River of Doubt in South America as one of the leaders of the first expedition to do so. He was proably vain and arrogant, and loved being the center of attention. It was said about him that he wanted to be "the bride at every wedding and the corpse at every funeral." He was a sickly child who deliberately lived an active life to overcome illness, lived the life of three men, and died young at about age 60 - totally burned out. He idolized his father but was ashamed that his dad had gotten an exemption to avoid military service in the Civil War. Every one of TR's four sons - the sons of a president - served in the military in wartime, and two of them died in the awful world wars of the last century. Can you imagine that today? We could sure use a guy like Theodore Roosevelt today - he might shame Congress into action.

So as I pondered what to do, the draw of Theodore Roosevelt Island just a half mile walk from my hotel proved to be too much of an allure. Like its namesake, the island is a contradiction - a wild and isolated 88 acre oasis in the middle of one of the world's greatest cities. So that is where I headed, walking about four miles. This was more than I should have walked, but much less than I would have were it not for my three days of upcoming extreme walking. I had a great time, then went out and had that beer in an outdoor cafe, listening to a muscian play the guitar and sing.

What a contradiction! These two photos were taken from the exact same spot as I walked down the ramp to the trail leading to the bridge to the island. The first, facing right, is the urban towers of Rosslyn, Virginia. The second, facing left, is Roosevelt Island just across the Potomac:
Roosevelt Island as seen from Virginia:
Once you cross this footbridge bridge, you leave the urban scene, and enter a wild place:
I think the Roosevelt would have been very pleased with this tranquil place. I saw as many deer - two - as humans on the trails. I can imagine the former president roaming the inviting paths.
There is a nice statue of the great man near the center of the island, and large structures highlighting some of his quotes in four subject areas, such as these about nature:
Nuts from a black walnut tree:Crew, I imagine from Georgetown University, crossing near the north end of the island:
Views of the Potomac River, which surrounds Roosevelt Island:

Cold Mountain, Wet Day, Great Hike

2011-09-06T18:26:00.000-07:00

On Labor Day, for the first time in 2011 - my year of foot surgery, death in the family, and plantar fasciitis - I got in a hike in the mountains. I hiked with a friend up Cole Mountain on a rainy and foggy day. This hike would have amazing views in clear weather, and is essentially a "loop" over from the Pleasant Mountain hike that I did last fall. In fact, you could easily combine the two in a "figure of eight" route, either as a long single day hike or a leisurely backpacking trip. I'd vote for the latter.

The rain started just as we hit the trailhead after a long ride from Richmond along Route 60 and a few miles of very rough gravel road. Within minutes, we saw multiple piles of black bear scat, and kept alert. In fact, my hiking buddy Hawkeye did spot a small bear near our lunch break. Far more dangerous than bears are Homo sapiens. A hiker from Indiana was murdered on the Appalachian trail here less than a month ago and apparently within a few miles of where we hiked - maybe even on the same section of the A.T. So far, there are few details released and no known suspects. It is very tragic.

I captured the track of our route using my DeLorme PN-60 GPS. We went clockwise from the parking spot - the top left-most point on the map on the Wiggins Spring Road, shortly after turned right up the Old Hotel Trail, and joined the Appalachian Trail a little more than three miles later. We turned right, headed through the human maintained balds on Cold Mountain, and headed back to the car.It was about 6.5 miles of walking with about 1,300 feet of elevation gain, most of it very gradual. It rained steadily about 70% of the hike, with very dense fog. Up on Cold Mountain (labeled by the USGS as "Cole") the fog was so thick that if one of us moved 50 paces from the other, we became invisible. I ended the hike with a sore heel from the plantar fasciitis, a blister on my little toe, soaked to the skin, and with a big smile that no amount of rain could wash away. Foot pain? Steady rain? Elevation gain? Can't complain! I was hiking again in the mountains! It was a total blast!

We saw so many cool mushrooms! This one looked like butter:
This one looked like a nicely cooked pan cake to go with that butter - does my little gnome look hungry?
This one was a beautiful lavender:
We came on the most amazing campsite here, under the oak trees. I don't remember seeing a good water source nearby.

A mile or so later is Cow Camp Gap Shelter, which has good tentsites nearby, an outhouse, and a stream not to far away. It was close to here that Hawkeye spotted the small bear. At times, the woods almost looked haunted in the fog.Moisure dripped from this spider web like jewels.
Chris a.k.a "Hawkeye" stands on a rock by a colorful sumac near the summit of Cold Mountain in the flog.

World-wide Views

2011-08-14T12:58:00.000-07:00

"You haven't posted in three weeks," a friend wrote recently. True enough. I have not been hiking, a combination of a trip to Michigan when my only "hike" was on water in a kayak, my injured foot, and spending my walking time trying to make up lost time on training for the Susan G. Komen 3-Day, now just 39 days away. On that note, in the last 9 days, I have put 41 miles on my feet, with varying levels of heel pain. Whether or not I can do the entire 60 miles over the three days remains to be seen, but I think so.

Anyhow, I thought I'd put out a couple of maps showing recent usage of this blog. "Oh, to be Hiking!" gets much more readership than my other blog, "Racing for a Cure." I guess the topic is more interesting to people, and they often do searches for specific hikes and come to this blog. For some reason, I've gotten a lot of hits lately on my post last year about a late fall hike.

You can see I get some traffic from a lot of the northern hemisphere, mostly North America. South America and Africa, and most of Asia - very little to none.And the east coast of the USA, especially the Mid-Atlantic, looks at my blog more than other regions of the country.

Sometimes, funny things can happen with user access. On "Racing for a Cure," I posted a humorous (at least I thought so) account of how sexy biker babes wanted to meet me. For a while, it got more hits than any other post on that blog, and when I checked the search statistics, one of the key phrases searched for was "sexy biker babes." It got hits from all over the world, although I imagine that they were very disappointed once they got to my post!

Presidential Memories

2011-07-20T17:51:00.000-07:00

Well, my foot is still too sore to go on any real hikes yet, although I hope to do a few short ones in the next week or 10 days. So in the meantime, I thought I'd take a hike down memory lane, mostly in photos.

Four years ago, almost to the day, my brother and I joined a friend of mine for a three day hike in the Presidential Range of the White Mountains in New Hampshire. My friend Dick was 82 at the time and had been in the Whites dozens of times. For my brother and I, it was just our second time to hike up Mount Washington, the highest peak in the Northeast. Our first had been 40 years before when we were in highschool and our dad took us up. I decided it was time to do it again, to celebrate being alive 40 years later and to mark five years surviving lymphoma.

It was a fantastic trip. We slept in the huts and had great meals prepared by the AMC "Cru." Mount Washington's fabled "worst weather in the world" took a vacation and we had three glorious sunny and calm days. It was a trip I will always remember, and I share memories of it here in this link, in a series of 100 photos in a slide show, if you are interested. Enjoy my presidential memories!

I plan on doing it again. Hiking the presidential range and climbing Mount Washington again will surely be on my "Do It Now Decade" to do list! And I hope I am still hiking strong when I am 82!

What to do in My “Do It Now Decade”

2011-07-18T18:31:00.000-07:00

Here’s where I would love some reader comments.

So, I just hit the Big Six-O! My friend Betty, who is 62, calls this the “Do It Now Decade.” Her line of reasoning is that the 60’s could be the last decade of your life where you are still vital and strong enough to really enjoy life. So if there are things you’ve been putting off, things you really want to do, then you’d better do them now. We could debate whether the 60’s is the last good decade of one’s life, but that is not the point. The point is that none of us really knows how much sand is in the top of that hourglass that we call our life. Sure, we can see all the sand piled up in the bottom – sixty years and two days worth in my case – but the top of the hourglass is painted the deepest midnight black. So don’t assume how much time is left – live it!Betty and two other friends bought me lunch today to celebrate, and Betty gave me a card and a tiny notebook with 80 pages in it. The notebook is maybe 2.5 by 3.5 inches. On the cover, she wrote “Art’s Do It Now Decade Notebook.” She said “Write down sixty things you want to do in the next 10 years, any order, anything. It might be something huge, or it might be a small thing – like visit a specific restaurant, write a poem. Write one thing per page, and as you do it, write some notes about it.”

I like this idea and started writing a few things in it already. It occurred to me that even though we assume we will live a full decade at age 60, nothing is guaranteed, so I may want to prioritize my final list. I also thought that there are definite categories of things that I would love to do over the next 60 years, such as travel, family, volunteer, athletic, personal growth, and outdoors to name some.

Since I love the outdoors so much, no doubt my “Do It Now Decade” list will have at least 15-20 things of that genre. It will take me a couple of weeks to list all 60 of my ideas, but when I do, I’ll share the outdoor oriented list items in this blog. In the meantime, what types of things would you love to do in the great outdoors in the next 10 years of your life? Take into account your interests, fitness level, finances, and time availability to come up with a list that is feasible for you. Make a blog comment to this post with the things you would like to do, or send me an email. Maybe I will get inspiration from things on your list and some of them will end up on mine!

I started my list today by writing on five pages of the little notebook. One of my initial five ideas is outdoors oriented – to backpack Isle Royale National Park again. There will be many more on there when I am finished.

Final Fifties Hike

2011-07-10T09:54:00.000-07:00

The Big 6-0 comes roaring in for me in less than a week, closing out an amazing decade in my life. I decided, sore foot or not, that I needed to get in one last little hike while I am still fifty something. So I went to Maymont, a combination flower garden - wildlife display - landscaping - nature center - historic home property along the James River. I walked about two and a third miles, going at a nice, slow 20 minutes per mile pace. While this hike can't match so many of the ones I've done in my 50's - Yellowstone, Grand Tetons, Glacier NP, Mount Rainier, White Mountains, Shenandoah - it was a nice little walk on a hot day, and a fun way to close out another decade of traveling on my feet.

My route is shown in blue. I started and ended at the upper left of the image. The red track along the bottom is part of last fall's hike along the Northside Trail and Buttermilk Springs Trail. (photos here). Maymont is fairly hilly, as seen by this elevation profile. The elevation range here is about 120 feet.

A lot of Maymont is open ground.

There are lots of beautiful flowers in the gardens here:

This nanny goat lives at the childrens petting zoo here.

I rarely get to see this gray fox, but he or she was out an alert today.

This great horned owl was somehow injured and cannot live in the wild.

The black bears here are very popular and have a huge enclosure. This point is meters from the Northside Trail shown in the map above.

There is a beautiful Japanese Garden here, with lots of streams and ponds,

some of which contain large coy:

One of the stately buildings on the property:

This hollow tree was large enough for me to comfortably lie down in, had I so chosen:

Visualizing a Hike

2011-07-04T08:00:00.001-07:00

Two and a half months into plantar fasciitis, hiking is still out of the question unless I want to make it worse and put up with even more foot pain. So I thought I would visualize a hike on this pretty July day. On Independence Day, I hope that I can soon be independent of foot pain.

My first long hike after surviving lymphoma was to Rip Rap Hollow in Shenandoah National Park. This was in July, 2003, and was my statement that I was strong enough to hike again, even though the long uphill at the end felt like it was going to kill me. I’ve been back every summer since then to celebrate life and survival. This year, it looks like I won’t make it, so I will visualize the hike.

I leave my home early, and so arrive at the trailhead by 8:30. The morning is still cool at over 3,000 feet on the ridge line. I park at the Wildcat Ridge parking lot, lace on my boots, and shoulder my pack. As I step out, I am thankful to be walking without the awful heel pain that has been plaguing me for months. In minutes, I am hiking north along the Appalachian Trail.

I’m too late to catch the blooms of the mountain laurel that are so common here, but the cool green of the forest is soothing to the spirit. I keep my eyes and ears peeled for wildlife, but all I hear right now the is the call of a distant oven bird: “Teacher, teacher, teacher, …” Then, I hear the call of an Eastern wood peewee somewhere out in the green canopy. The trail undulates up and down, but is easy hiking all the way to the Rip Rap Parking lot, where the AT climbs steeply to meet the Rip Rap Hollow trail.

I leave the AT here, climbing some more and passing through a more open forest with some nice views at Calvary Rocks and Chimney Rocks. I pause and eat some GORP, and reflect on life for a few minutes. What a miracle it is to be alive! That this collection of chemicals that is me has emotions, memories, thoughts, feelings, wishes, dreams! We truly take so much for granted each and every day. I think back to my first time at this spot since cancer – how amazing it felt to be hiking, to feel well again, to not feel sick every single day for months and months. I bow my head a bit and give thanks.

I’ve come along a dry and sunny part of the trail as it descends steeply. I once came across a bear here. Staying alert, I am rewarded when a deer crosses the trail just ahead. It melts into the forest, and when I arrive at the spot where it crossed just seconds later, it is as if it the deer is invisible. I wonder how many animals we walk past on any given hike and never have a clue that they are there, yet we probably sound, and smell, like a huge and easily detectable being to them. I move along, the combination of the sun and lower elevation heating things up quite a bit. Then suddenly, I am back in a cool forest as the trail bottoms out.

As I walk along, I suddenly see the first water – a small spring. I’ve reached Cool Spring Hollow. It is so pleasant here, and quite the contrast to the hot and dry area just minutes ago. An old box turtle, some of the colored plates missing from its shell, pulls its head and legs into its shell, and closes up as tight as a drum. I always love seeing these increasingly scarce turtles! I leave the old turtle and move along, walking besides more and more water. There are little cascades from time to time, and it is so beautiful! I pause to admire the view from a little rise, and am startled by a crashing sound just behind me. I whip around just in time to see the black form of a young bear disappearing into the foliage. He had been gorging on berries just feet from the trail, and I never saw him!

My pulse returns to normal as I cross the now-wide stream several times, heading to the hollow that I love so much. I arrive at the deep pool, and because of my early start, I am the only person there. As much as I would like to skinny dip here, it is much too popular a spot, so I move into the woods and change into a swim suit. I come back to the pool and examine it. The moss surrounding it makes it look like it is encrusted with emeralds. Small brook trout swim in its depths as the sun glints off of their bejeweled sides. I slowly step into the pool, glad that I didn’t put on bug repellent that must be washed off first.

Man, is that cold! I move deeper – calf depth, mid-thigh depth. The deepest part is just ahead, and gathering my courage, I take a deep breath and plunge in face first. In seconds, my head breaks the surface and am nearly hyperventilating with the cold, but shortly after, it is more comfortable and I dive down to the bottom to explore it a little bit. The trout have vanished, although now and then, I can see one of them flash by at my eye level in the crystal-clear water.

I climb out of the pool on the other side, and wade up the stream that is feeding the pool. I look under rocks for salamanders and snakes, but find none. I once saw a water snake catch a trout not far from here. Returning downstream, I swim across the pool and climb out, sunning myself on a rock to partially dry. There has not been a soul here other than myself, which is very rare. After a while, I go back in the woods to strip and finish drying, put back on my hiking clothes, and reluctantly, start the hike out. I’ll stop for lunch along the way, because it is still too early to eat due to my early start today.

I hike along the last level stretch of this hike, along the scenic stream. I go slowly, looking for more bear, and making sure not to step on a timber rattler, which I once nearly did along this very trail. Eventually, I cross the stream again – there are several more crossings to go – and start the steep hike out up the Wildcat Ridge Trail. I’d love to see a wildcat, but never have, although I wonder how many times I’ve unknowingly walked near them in my travels. I stop along one of the last stream crossings to rest and eat my sandwich – peanut butter – and apple. With this setting that I am enjoying, a king would not have a finer meal in his palace.

After lunch, I continue the steep hike out of the hollow. It is a climb of about 1,500 feet back to the car. I watch for wildlife, but all I see is a garter snake that rushes away as I inadvertently disturb its siesta. I pause to drink from my canteen several times and take a few short rest breaks, but mostly, I just continue my hike out. It is a far cry from that first post-cancer hike in 2003, when it seemed I had to stop and rest here every 10 minutes. The body knows how to heal itself much of the time, if we do the right things.

All too soon, I cross the AT again, and minutes later, I am back at my car. My lovely virtual hike to Rip Rap Hollow has ended!

Fogbound in Maine

2011-06-17T02:36:00.000-07:00

May 29. Well, this was not exactly an epic trip, but with my incredibly sore foot, it is probably the best I can do for a while. We were on a cruise with a friend for a week, from Boston to Montreal, and the second day out included a stop in Bar Harbor, Maine. We took a bus tour for a couple of hours that included several stops in Acadia National Park, one my favorite places in the world. One stop was on top of Cadillac Mountain, the highest point on the Atlantic Coast north of Rio. On a clear day, the views here are spectacular, but this was a fogbound morning in Maine, with visibility less than 200 feet.

There was a short and paved loop trail at the top, about a half kilometer. I was the only one on the bus to walk it. You could barely see a thing, but it felt good to have boots on the ground in Maine (home once in a past lifetime for a lot of years) once again!

You could see relatively clearly for maybe 20 feet, and after that shapes looked like ghosts. Because of the paved path, you really couldn't get lost:

Maine granite in the fog:

Even these pretty purple flowers were muted by fog:

Back at sea level, I snapped a shop of Bar Island. At low tide, as it is now, you can walk to the island across this bar that gives Bar Harbor it's name. It is a popular thing to do, as you can see. But stay alert, because if the tide comes in - 12 foot range - you'd better be able to swim in the 50 degree water, or you're staying on the island for a while.

No, I've Not Fallen Off the Earth

2011-06-08T15:30:00.000-07:00

I've not fallen off the earth. I'm just not hiking. When every step with one's left foot feels like a nail is being driven into your left heel, it takes some of the pleasure out of walking and hiking. This plantar fasciitis is no fun at all, and I've missed prime hiking weather this spring.

Other than that, many visits to my sister Ann, and her death on Memorial Day - I will miss her until I take my final breath some day - have taken time and desire away from other things. But I have faith that ultimately, I will heal my heel, and get out racing for a cure and hiking again. With only 107 days until my 3-Day, 60 mile walk, it has to happen soon.

Until then, Oh to be Hiking!!!!!!!

Return to the Great Blue Herons

2011-05-22T08:34:00.000-07:00

May 11. I'd walked an easy mile and a half yesterday to see how the plantar fasciitis would do, and it was not bad. I'd gone past the heron rookery on the James River in downtown Richmond, and seen lots of great blue herons out fishing to provide for their ravenous youngsters. So I decided to return today (May 11) with a camera. I also learned that a mile and half two days in a row was amazingly painful for my sore foot, and have taken it very easy since then, but that is another story. Here are some photos of the herons (and one egret) along the James, along with a northern water snake - the wild side of a big city. As I watched traffic zipping by in the distance over the I-95 bridge, I wondered how many of the drivers had an inkling what they were driving right by just up-river!

These little ducklings seemed to be frantically searching for mom:

Northern water snake sunning itself amid rubble:

Paying My Respects

2011-05-05T17:26:00.000-07:00

I got up yesterday at 4AM to catch the 5AM train to Washington, DC for a one day conference. It was ending at 3:30, and the training coming back wasn’t until 7PM, so I knew I would have about two and half hours to enjoy in our Capital. So I took my newly purchased New Balance shoes, a change of clothes, a book to read on the train, a windbreaker, and my camera all stuffed in a little day pack. But what should I do? I came up with four options, considering I am having a lot of pain from my plantar fasciitis and should not be on my feet a lot. In order of low to high stress on my feet, here were my choices:

1. Take the Metro to a place with a nice outdoor café, and nurse a beer or two as the world goes by, then head to Union Station.

2. Visit one of the many great museums within a half mile of my seminar site – American History was literally across the street from the Ronald Reagan building. Then catch the Metro to a café for a beer.

3. Take the Metro to Woodley, walk a half mile to the National Zoo, and spend a couple of hours walking slowly around the zoo before walking back to the Metro.

4. Oh, the heck with this inactivity stuff! Walk about seven miles seeing some of the great sites of our Capital City, even though it might cause me a lot of misery and pain later.

I think you can figure out what my choice was!

So, where to walk to? Well, I decided to walk to Arlington National Cemetery – you will see why later – and see some of the sights along the way. Yeah, I’m an idiot, and Mother Nature is now telling me to stay off my feet for a while, but my seven mile walk was enjoyable and well worth it. Here is what I saw during my time in Washington before catching the Metro to Union Station at 6:00. With Memorial Day later this month, I decided to concentrate on memorials and monuments to our country’s warriors.

The Washington Monument is always an impressive sight. I wonder what General Washington would say, by George?
The World War II Memorial is always impressive. When you are a kid watching war movies, it makes war look kind of adventuresome and fun. The good guys always win. When people die it looks painless and very quick. Even the wounded guys don’t look so bad – a little blood on their shirt, give ‘em a cigarette, and they are fine. I would guess that in reality, war is a pretty awful experience. The collective sacrifice of our World War II Vets is staggering, and this memorial attempts to pay tribute to them.Words of Admiral Nimitz on the WW II Memorial:My Stepdad, Stuart Silverman, was a World War II Vet, serving in New Guinea. He got to see this memorial three years before his death in 2008, and I will never forget how emotional it was for him, and for the rest of us present with him. He stood and saluted this part of the monument – saluting his long-gone comrades in arms – his body trembling with the stress of standing there as an elderly and infirm man.One of our “forgotten” wars is Korea. My godfather, Paul Edwards, was a soldier in this war.I walked past the Lincoln Memorial. What would our country be like had we never had the “Great Emancipator” or George Washington?The “Wall” at the Vietnam Memorial is always moving. There was a note and photos there at one spot addressed to a long gone father – maybe a father never known – that was really sad. My older brother spent a year in Vietnam in the US Army. He visited this place with a friend once, who asked what he felt when he saw the “Wall.” My brother said he replied, “Truthfully, I’m just glad my name isn’t up there.”This poignant statue honors the nurses during the Vietnam War. It is one of two monuments I can remember – the other being the Civil Rights Monument in Richmond – that features a woman (and an African-American woman):I walked over the Memorial Bridge to Arlington National Cemetery. On the way, I watched this boat cruise up-river towards Roosevelt Island, a memorial to Theodore Roosevelt. This island has wonderful hiking trails, and if I had a few more hours (and two good feet) I would have headed there next. Where would conservation be in this country had we never had TR?By now, I had walked about four miles, and even at a much slower pace than my normal walking speed, back of my left foot was hurting with every step. But by this time, I was determined to walk into Arlington National Cemetery, for the main reason I decided to do this: to pay respects to a former neighbor: Shane Adcock.

When we moved to Richmond, Shane was our 13 year old next door neighbor. He was the nicest kid, always polite, never in trouble. He was a boy scout and went on campouts with his dad and his troop. He used to hop over the fence and come visit my water garden that I put in our backyard – he even added a fish to it. He went off to college at Longwood, became involved in ROTC, and got his commission in the US Army when he graduated. Eventually, he became a captain in the Army, and got married. Shortly after his wedding, he was sent with his unit to Iraq, and a couple of months later – in October, 2006 – he died when a rocket propelled grenade slammed into his Humvee. I have no doubt that his family will mourn his death for the rest of their lives.

Shane is buried now at Arlington, and I wanted to visit his grave and tell him that he is not forgotten by his neighbor of long ago. A beautiful bluebird sang and displayed in the sun near Shane’s grave. It was sad to look at this young man’s grave, and the so many tombstones near him, young men (and probably some women) killed in their prime in 2005, 2006, 2007.After paying my respect to Shane’s memory, I had just enough time left to hoof it up to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldiers and catch the changing of the guard. I have seen this ceremony before but not for nearly 10 years, and it is always impressive to see the precision of the soldiers guarding the tomb. From there, I walked 15 minutes back to the Metro, got to Union Station, and caught the train home. According to my pedometer, I walked 20,000 steps that day. According to my left heel, the number was closer to 200,000.

Egret At Back Bay

2011-05-03T17:00:00.000-07:00

Usually, when I spot an egret, it flies when I get within 100 - 150 meters. But this past Sunday, as I hiked six miles in Back Bay National Wildlife Refuge, one sensed I was no threat and just kept on fishing as I passed within 75 feet. I got some rare photos of this majestic bird. On my hike, I also saw coots, redwing blackbirds, Canada geese, a great blue heron (which flew), some type of duck, a red-bellied woodpecker, and the noses of many large turtles sticking out of the water. I heard, but did not see, a clapper rail - despite spending a good 15 minutes trying to spot him in the thick marsh growth.

My path involved the nature trail near headquarters, then a couple of miles down the West Dike Trail, where I left the trail and entered a wooded area for a short walk to the bay. It was in this area that I found the young copperhead almost exactly a year ago. As I walked along the nature trail, I missed a raccoon my mere minutes, as shown by his still-wet footprints on the boards of the raised path:

Red-winged blackbirds are a common sight and sound here:

I took many photos of the egret as it fished and looked for breakfast. Here are a couple of them:

A few feet in elevation makes a huge difference in habitat here, as shown by this woodland just a hundred meters from expansive marshland:

Wood Thrushes

2011-04-24T04:38:00.001-07:00

Is there a sweeter sound than the melodious call of the wood thrush?

I've had a nasty little cold, but decided I needed at least a short walk yesterday, and I went back to Deep Run Park in the late afternoon to walk a single two mile loop. The trees are leafing out, and as I walked through the pleasant woodlands of the park, I tried picking out various bird song. One bird in particular stood out, the wood thrush. I don't think I have heard their song yet this year. They have a beautiful flute-like call. Beautiful to us, war-like and agressive to other male wood thrushes, and enticing to the females. I stood mesmerized for several minutes, listening and looking for some of the birds, which were well hidden in the forest. I wonder how many people walking and running along with headphones had any idea of the wonderful concert that they were missing. I love music as much as anyone - I am listening to Robert Schumann's magnificent Second Symphony as I write this - but also love Mother Nature's free concerts, whether it be the plaintive cries of the spring peeper that herald spring each year, or yesterday's wonderful wood thrush melodies.

This morning, I got up early, having not slept well from my cold, and walked four miles. Along the way, I came across a red eft in the path. He was maturing into a newt, because he no longer had the fiery red-orange color of a young eft. He was more of the olive-brown color that he will become as an acquatic newt, but with the little orange spots. I moved him off the concrete path so no one else who came along would trample him.

Happy Easter! This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it!

Along an Old Railroad

2011-04-19T02:01:00.000-07:00

I was in New York, up in the Catskills, this weekend to visit my sister. It rained like crazy, with some snow, on Saturday. But Sunday had periods of sun mixed with periods of rain and sleet, and I took advantage of one of the former to get in a five mile walk. I walked along an old railroad bed for most of it, as it went along the raging Esopus Creek and through the woods. Spring is barely underway. In Virginia, our forsythia is long gone, but in the Catskills it is just now in bloom.

Here are some photos.

Here is the route of my hike, 2.5 miles out and 2.5 miles back:

I am sure that this harmless and beautiful spotted salamander - about seven inches long - was minding its business when someone senselessly killed it. I am not sure I will ever figure people out:

I wondered whether or not trains still used the tracks or not. I had been on the tracks less than a half mile when this question was clearly answered. This is where I was glad I was alone. If I had been with another couple of men, one of them - with too much testosterone - would have talked everyone into trying to walk across one of the rails. Instead, I climbed down into the washout and crossed the stream on rocks, barely getting just one foot wet when a rock shifted:

There were rivlets and water falls at many spots along the way:

A view looking back along the tracks, with the flank of Tremper Mountain in the distance:

The Esopus was raging along after Saturday's rains:

Views of Tremper Mountain beyond Esopus Creek:

Deep Run Park Turtles

2011-04-12T16:54:00.000-07:00

Sunday April 10. My favorite little local park is Deep Run Park, a county park about seven miles from my house. I often go there to run. There is a great two mile circuit - 1.8 miles actually but I usually add some little spurs to bump it up - that included a few steep grades and a lot of variety. I enjoy people watching there as I run or walk along. You see all races, many national origins, all ages - everyone just getting along and enjoying life, which in my view is how it should be. There are also a lot of dogs, and it cool to see them with owners. So this past Sunday, I went there to walk four miles and see if I could see some wildlife, which I did: turtles! Here are some photos from my walk:

This looks like a slider of some kind:

View of the pond at Deep Run Park:

Suspicious eyes:

Turtle near the bank:

Typical of the trails running through Deep Run Park:

What Happened to Spring?

2011-04-10T18:37:00.001-07:00

Saturday, April 9. I was down at the coast and walked six and two-thirds miles in Back Bay National Wildlife Refuge. It was a raw and gray day, and as you will see from my photos, the colors of spring were not to be found, especially when contrasted with my walk to Hollywood Cemetery just a few days ago. This by far the longest distance I have walked since foot surgery with hiking boots, and my second longest distance over all next to the 10K race day just over a week ago. I didn't see anything spectacular, but I did see a fair amount of wildlife: ducks, coots, lots of egrets, and a big hawk in a forested area. I walked through several different biomes, and enjoyed walking along the dike trails again, which opened April 2.

Here are some photos:

An American coot warily looks me over:

While this handsome drake mallard provided color other than gray, brown, and black:

View of the marsh out towards Back Bay:

I can never get close to egrets. This one was at least 100 meters away when I immortalized him or her:

As I walked along, I came to a wood duck nest box. It reminded me of a "prior life" where every now and then, I got to spend the day with a wildlife technician and we spent the entire day in a canoe checking wood duck boxes. We would head out about 5AM and work until maybe 2 or 3. I saw so much wildlife on those Maine marshes on those few days, not just ducks but kestrels and tree swallows nesting in the boxes. And once, we came on a broken tree in the marsh with a great horned owl nest with a large and scared owlet. We got within feet of him, and it was so cool.

This maple provided about the only vegetative color I saw during my hike:

For a half mile or so, the path went through woodlands. Just a few feet of elevation can make a huge difference:

The start of False Cape State Park was my turn-around park. I think this is the only state park I have ever been to where you cannot drive to it. You can hike or bike in, or perhaps go by canoe. In the winter - from November 1 to March 31 - most of the refuge trails are closed and you can only get there with a long hike down the beach. It is beautiful down there, and someday I want to camp. Camping in bug season would be tortuous, though. The deer flies down there have won awards, I am pretty sure:

View of the marsh at FCSP:

It's a Nice Place to Walk to, But I Wouldn't Want to Live There!

2011-04-08T17:35:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since I did one of my long lunch time walks in the city. But yesterday, I got to work early and stayed late, and decided to take a long walk at lunch on a gorgeous - although very warm - spring day. Last spring, I'd gone south - around the flood wall - and I'd gone east - up Libby Hill and past St. John's Church - so yesterday, it was time to head west. So west I went, to Hollywood Cemetery, which is also a popular spot each year for a Team in Training run. This area is big enough that I need to go back soon and show the rest of it.

With my switch to race for a cure for breast cancer this year - a 60 mile walk in September - I will be doing a ton of walking. I also need to slow my pace a bit from my normal 12.5 to 14 minutes per mile to a more leisurely 15-16 minutes per mile, so walks like yesterday's are a good way to try this out and get used to a slower pace. If I don't do this, trying to do 20 miles a day for three straight days at the faster pace will make my legs "dead" by the third day, I think. I took lots of pictures on my 4.75 mile walk, and here they are:

I started out heading down towards the James River. Here is a view looking back along Brown's Island and the Haxall Canal:

From there, it was a short walk past historic Tredegar Iron Works and the city's Civil War Center:

Then I headed under the Robert E. Lee Bridge and north on the Northside Trail, part of a longer hike last fall:

I knew, from last fall, that the Northside Trail went right past the cemetery, and I was right. But to my dismay, there was a tall fence. A narrow tree lay from the path to the fence, with about an 8-10 foot drop. I was tempted to try, but it seemed like a good way to break an ankle. After poking around for a few minutes, I found the "back door" to Hollywood Cemetery:

Here is a view of hikers heading north on the Northside Trail below me:

This beautiful structure in the cemetary almost looks like a chapel with the stained glass windows and the open view of the James River:

A locomotive hauling minerals from the mountains down to the sea passes along the track, with the Hollywood Rapids and Belle Isle in the distance:

The gravesite of Fitzhugh Lee, son of Robert E. Lee, along with family members, is adorned with a pink and a white dogwood:

The gravesite of Jefferson Davis, President of the Confererate States of America:

The mausoleum of Lewis Ginter, who gave the original money to found the spectacular Ginter Botanical Gardens:

A guardian angel watches over this tomb:

An elaborate stone tree grows skyward from this grave site:

The grave of John Tyler, President of the United States, of "Tippecanoe and Tyler, Too" fame:

The grave of James Monroe, President of the United States:

The dogwood is the state flower of Virginia, and is glorious in the spring:

During the typhus epidemic of 1862, three young children of Confederate General James Longstreet and his wife Louise perished, and lie here in eternal rest:

As much as I wanted to keep walking, I had a meeting back at work and headed out of the Cemetary, passing through the neighborhood of Oregon Hill:

A Future Long Walk in the Pink

2011-04-06T18:02:00.000-07:00

I'm going to make a crossover today between this and my other blog, Racing for a Cure. In late September, I'll be walking 60 miles in three days near Washington DC as part of the Susan G. Komen 3-Day for the Cure, to defeat breast cancer. Along the way, I hope to raise a minimum of $3,600 for this cause.

In addition to raising money for the Komen organization, I do this walk to honor my sister, Ann, who has been battling breast cancer for over four years. She has fought with amazing bravery, but the cancer has spread to her liver, bones, and lungs. I'll be walking 60 miles, a long way to go, and difficult enough. But it is not as difficult or exhausting as it would be for my beloved sister to walk 100 feet. I can't save her, but I CAN walk 60 miles to hopefully inspire people to donate money that will save the lives of others.

If you want more information about what I am doing, or would consider making a donation, you can go to my 3-Day fundraising page here. Perhaps there is a loved one of yours who has battled cancer that you would like to honor with a donation. If so, I will write his or her name on the shirt that I will wear the third and final day of the walk on September 25.

Why should you care about a cure for all breast cancers? Well, if you a woman, I don't think I need to ask you that. But what about men? Should men care? Well, a man is writing this! Besides that, do you have a mother, wife, daughter, grandmother, girlfriend, sister, female cousin, aunt, granddaughter, sister-in-law, female friend, etc? Do I make my point? If not, believe it or not, men get breast cancer, too - it is just fairly rare.

Thanks for your consideration of supporting my long walk in the pink!

Rambling Around Richmond

2011-04-03T16:56:00.000-07:00

Althought not exactly a hike, I put about 12 miles on my feet yesterday in Richmond. It was a great test of my post-surgical foot, and 6.2 miles of it was for the Monument Avenue 10K. With 41,000 runners and walkers, that is one of the largest foot races in the United States. Of course, for most participants, we are just racing against ourselves, out there to enjoy the experience. Richmond is a pretty place in the spring, the race is a great spectator event, and I put lots of photos and the story of the day here on my other blog. If you read far enough down in that post, you will learn the tale of the courage and determination that I witnessed yesterday, and which will always be with me!

Our National Symbol

2011-03-31T09:34:00.000-07:00

I have a 10K race coming up in two days, and have had all kinds of problems training for it – the latest being another bad cold, a couple of migraines, and a very sore knee. So I did not run this past weekend, but I did try a hard workout on the elliptical machine to see how my knee felt. The answer was – no worse. So Monday and Tuesday being nice days - before an accurately forecasted rainy period - I decided to walk at lunch so I could at least get a little exercise that would help me with my upcoming race.

I managed to get in about 3.25 miles Monday and 3.75 miles Tuesday, both on walks to Belle Isle, the site of a terrible Civil War prison camp 150 years ago, but now a tranquil and pretty place in the middle of a big city. During both hikes, I spotted a mature bald eagle in a tree up river, and on Monday’s trek, there were two large ospreys in a tree down river. Just a half mile or so down river is the site of a large great blue heron rookery.

There is something really cool about being in a large city and seeing a bald eagle - that something so wild and so symbolic of both our country and of wilderness can live so near to so many people. As much as I enjoyed my walks, I enjoyed even more thinking about this bird, and what it represents.

North Anna River Battlefield

2011-03-20T04:25:00.000-07:00

Sometimes things don't work out as we plan, and yesterday was a good example. I decided to take a March Madness break for a few hours and go for a hike, my first in boots since the foot surgery 8 weeks ago. I chose the Cumberland Marsh Natural Area, a place that I had never been. It has what sounds like a nice 4.5 mile hike with the possibility of seeing marsh birds and other wildlife. So off I went!

As I reached the tiny, and empty, parking lot 50 minutes later, I pondered why no one else would be here on such a nice spring day. I got out of my car and approached the informational board, on which was posted a large sign saying that the area was closed because of unstable dams. Damn indeed! My car gets about 52 mpg on a trip like this, but even so, I had just wasted nearly a gallon of gasoline! I turned around and headed back, deciding for a shorter hike at the North Anna River Battlefield Park instead. It would be about 15 miles out of the way to the north on the way back.

The North Anna River site marks a vicious battle fought near 150 years ago on May 23-26, 1864 as Grant kept trying to get around Lee's army on the way to Richmond. It happened shortly after the much bloodier battle at Spottsylvania Courthouse and just before the huge and very bloody battle at Cold Harbor. Because of a strong Confederate defensive position, the river, and Union mistakes - including an ill-advised attack by a stone-cold drunk general - the US Army became divided into three parts. Lee was ill, and his generals could not execute his battle plan without him. Thus, his battered army could not take advantage of a golden opportunity. Otherwise, this could have been a very bloody battle, and a large part of Grant's army might have been destroyed or captured. I would guess that for the 5,000 men who were killed, wounded, or captured, it was plenty bloody and miserable enough.

It never fails to strike me how peaceful these battlefields are today, in sharp contrast to the violence, pain, and misery that once occurred on these bucolic grounds. The photograph of the poem at the end of this post sums up that sentiment very well.

The 2.5 miles of out and back walking are mostly level and easy. What are woods today would have been mostly open country at the time of the Civil War:

The Confederate Army dug extensive defensive trenches here. Nearly 150 years later, many of them are still in evidence. They built a strong defensive position with the North Anna River on one side and a trench line like an inverted "V" - such as the point of a spear.

Even though the trail was flat, the surrounding terrain is often steep. Here, you can get a hint of the North Anna River right at the end of the defensive works and several hundred feet below. It must have been hellish to have to fight a battle on these grounds.

At the entrance to the park is a memorial plaque with a very apt poem of reconcilliation it. We are one country now, not many.

Bay Walk, Beach Walk, Brisk Walk

2011-02-27T11:18:00.000-08:00

Today, I took the longest continuous walk since my foot surgery just over a month ago. I walked 4.5 miles in Back Bay National Wildlife Refuge, most of it on the beach, although the first mile of the hike was along the bay and marsh.

I slept poorly last night and was awake by 5:30. I could easily have made this another dawn beach walk, but instead, I got up for good about 6:10, and relaxed with a mug of hot tea while listening to a Mozart piano concerto (#12, so lyrical and serene!), and read about great hikes in my latest Backpacker Magazine. Around 7AM, I drove to the refuge and started walking about 30 minutes after sunrise. The tide was ebbing, as shown by this screen shot from my GPS:

Here is my route, mapped onto my DeLorme Topo USA software from my GPS. I hiked south through the marsh, cut through the dunes to the beach, hike south on the beach about a mile and a half, and then reversed course to eventually cut back through the dunes north of my original beach access point:

There is something so tranquil about a early morning walk on the beach. It gave me some time to reflect on things in my life, think about the recent passing of my friend, Judy, and think about my sister and her illness. Along the way, I tried to be at peace with how things are right now. The wind was brisk and raw at times, but it felt good to be out walking and communing with nature. Here are some photos from my walk.

Cattails along the marsh:

Tundra swans, heading north towards the Yukon:

And resting in the marsh:

Boardwalk access to the beach protects the dunes:

This driftwood appears to guard the beach:

The ocean is so tranquil this time of day:

It is like this all the way to the North Carolina border about 9 miles down the beach:

Pelicans are such a cool bird:

This claw is all that remains of a blue crab, which survived against inconceivable odds to become an adult. Probably, some of his molecules live on in the muscle tissue of a gull:

This gull has managed to find breakfast:

Dunes protect the marsh. The dune zone here is about a quarter mile wide:

Swans fly in "V" formation over the ocean, heading north:

Stomping Breast Cancer With Hiking Boots

2011-02-23T17:02:00.000-08:00

My friend Chris, AKA “Hawkeye,” steps off in about a month to head north on the Appalachian Trail. He plans on hiking about half of it, ending at Harpers Ferry, West Virginia, or just over 1,000 miles. And he has decided to make the hike about something bigger than just a long walk in the woods. He is going to raise money for the Susan G. Komen For a Cure organization. Chris’s wife is a recent breast cancer survivor.

Breast cancer is a horrible disease. I was thinking today of all the people I personally know who have had to face it. My sister, Ann, who is fighting stage 4 right now. My sister-in-law Christine, who is a 22 year survivor. My friends Janice, Mary Beth, and Bev. My former co-workers Lisa and Linda (who died from it several years ago).

I hope someday we can stomp this disease into the ground, and all other cancers. That is why I race for a cure, and it is one reason Chris is doing this long hike. If you are interested in following Hawkeye’s preparation and progress, you can do so here.

And if you would like to donate to the fine Komen organization in support of Chris’s hike, you can do so here. Even a penny a mile, just a $10 donation, will add up in this desperate fight to kick breast cancer – with hiking boots, in this case - to the curb!

The Last Sunset

2011-02-21T17:06:00.000-08:00

I saw an amazing sunset at the end of my New Year’s Eve hike in the Back Bay Wildlife Refuge. The next day, I learned of a poetry form new to me, the monotetra. It has the following rules:

Each stanza has four lines.
Each line has exactly eight syllables.
The end of the first line in a stanza rhymes with the end of the other three lines in that stanza.
The final line of each stanza repeats the same four syllables.

So, inspired by the beautiful sunset that evening, I thought I would try writing a monotetra about it a day or two later, and here is my effort. I decided tonight to finally put this out on my blog.

"The Last Sunset"

I stand and watch the setting sun
On New Year’s Eve; day’s course has run.
Feels like this year had just begun,
Yet now it’s done. Yet now it’s done!

Vivid hues paint darkening skies;
Swans fill the air with their wild cries;
One beats its wings and starts to rise.
How high it flies! How high it flies!

The sky, in hues of orange and rose,
Tints faint with blush last weekend’s snows
Mother Nature so proudly shows
Her new year’s clothes - her New Year’s clothes.

Across the marsh, last light subsides;
‘Neath cloak of darkness, the sun hides;
Towards history, the old year glides;
New Year presides! New Year presides!

I know one day my sun will set
Although that’s easy to forget.
When that day comes, will I regret
Things not done yet; things not done yet?

Art Ritter
January 2, 2011

Lunch Time Walk to Great Blue Heron Colony

2011-02-15T15:35:00.000-08:00

2011 has not gotten off to a great start for hiking, or too much else, actually. First, there was the death of our dear friend, Judy, at the start of the year - just four weeks after being diagnosed with multiple myeloma. Two days after her memorial service, I headed to upstate New York to visit my sister Ann, ill with stage four breast cancer. Five days after I got back home, I had foot surgery, which has pretty much sidelined me for three weeks.

I took the bandage off yesterday for good, and decided I needed a little lunch time hike today. I went to the great blue heron colony in the James River, right in downtown Richmond. This is an interesting urban hike, as documented in more detail in my blog here almost a year ago. My walk today was 2.25 miles, and I had no trouble at all, despite my foot surgery of 3 weeks ago. It felt great to take a walk on a nice day and enjoy some views of the river and wildlife. My route, as tracked by my DeLorme PN-60 GPS, is shown on the map below. I walked in a clockwise direction, and the three little images show where I took my pictures.

Here are some herons on their nests, high in the trees on an island in the river:

A view of the island from where I stood, with many nests in sight:

Nice painting on a bridge support, with a formal sign on the other side of the support:

Rapids further upriver:
View of Tredegar Iron Works Civil War Visitor Center:

A Short Walk

2011-02-12T04:14:00.000-08:00

I am still limping but can almost walk normally now, as long as my foot is wrapped and stuffed in an open shoe, like my Croc. I can maybe walk at a 20 minutes per mile pace, which is slow for me, but at least people are not passing me as much along the street as I go to and from the car at work.

Yesterday was a nice day, and I am sick of being a coach potato and sedentary person. So I decided to trade a little foot pain for some exercise and fresh air. It was not exactly a hike, but I walked up to the State Capital Grounds and made a loop around the Capital. Virginia has a really beautiful Capital, designed by none other than Thomas Jefferson.

I stopped at one of the best monuments I have ever seen, the one dedicated a couple of years ago to the Civil Rights movement, right on the grounds of the Capital of the Old Confederacy. It is a beautiful and moving monument, and I am always inspired when I see it. It is the only monument on the grounds that depicts a woman, a minority, and a child. I paused for a few minutes and reflected on that part of our country’s history.

I continued down the brick walkways and back to the street. I decided to go pay respects to our former State Supreme Court Chief Justice, Leroy Hassell, who’s body was lying in state in the capital building. He died from lymphoma a few days ago at only age 55. I don’t know him, of course, but as a cancer survivor, I feel a connection. He was the state’s first black Supreme Court justice, and also the first black chief justice. So I walked up through the Capital Building to the rotunda, where his flag-draped coffin stood next to the remarkable Houdon statue of George Washington.

From there, I retraced my steps to go back outside, and thence back to work. It felt good to move around a bit. I can’t wait to be able to walk normally again, then ultimately try a real hike and some running! But that is all still some weeks away.

Could I Be the next Backpacker Magazine Field Scout?

2011-01-25T13:05:00.000-08:00

So, Backpacker Magazine has a contest to become their field scout for an issue. The deal, for the winning entry, is that Backpacker pays for a backpacking trip in the “Lower 48” for the winner and a companion. The trip cannot exceed seven nights, and part of the assignment is to present the trip to Backpacker readers. To enter, one could submit an essay – not to exceed 300 words – or a link to a personalized video or web page. Three hundred words is not a lot to show why I’m the best hiker for the job, and how I could bring the adventure to life for their readers, but here is my entry: 293 words long. Wish me luck!

First, my girlfriend dumped me like a load of gravel, prompting me to decide that two weeks in the Rockies would cure my funk. Then, my car broke up with me in Ohio, so I thumbed a ride to northern Minnesota, and caught the ferry to Isle Royale. A 20 year-old greenhorn, I hoisted a heavy pack that was missing several of the 10 essentials, but was crammed with the 50 non-essentials. I staggered along like an abused pack mule, generously donated blood to hordes of mosquitoes during tent-less nights, and fell into a river vainly attempting to photograph a moose. And I had such a good time that I want to go back!

From Rock Harbor, I’ll plan a circuit route over the Greenstone Ridge, Minong Ridge, and Rock Harbor Trails. This time, I’ll carry only what I‘ll need to safely hike a seven night trip, and to record it for Backpacker. The latter will include my DeLorme PN-60 GPS to record the track and waypoints. My digital camera, constant companion on my treks, will come along to capture images, hopefully to include a moose – sans dunking! Back home, my Topo USA software will map the track and synch my photos geographically. And on the trail, I’ll periodically send custom messages using my SPOT synched up with the PN-60. I’ll record field notes in a standard notebook, though.

I may not be your guy to lead a three-week trip through the Yukon, but I’ve done plenty of hiking and have enough backpacking experience to do the trails of Isle Royale again. And I like to share my hikes, as evidenced by my blog: http://o2bhiking.blogspot.com/. Appoint me as your field scout, and I will take your readers along to this magical island park!

My Last Walk for a While

2011-01-23T17:15:00.000-08:00

I didn’t exactly do a hike today, but it was close enough. And with foot surgery tomorrow, that will hopefully take care of this neuroma once and for all, it will be the last walking, hiking, or running for me for a while. I am not sure how long it will be before I can walk normally again: normally for me being at least five or six miles at a pace of at least 14 to 15 minutes per mile. I am guessing at least a couple of months, and maybe longer, will go by before I can walk at that level again. Hopefully the surgeon can give me some clues about it.

On this cold winter weekend, I knew I wanted to go for a long walk at the least, since I won’t be physically able to do it for a while. I had too much to take care of around the house to go for a real hike anywhere – plus I have a cold. So five miles walking laps around Echo Lake seemed like a good way to go. I’ve not been running much or talking walks longer than a few miles very often in the last couple of months, but I was still able to walk the five miles (seven laps on the wooded trail that goes around the lake) in 64 minutes, which translates to 12.8 minutes per mile average walking pace. After five laps, my ears were so cold that I grabbed my hat out of the car for the last two laps.

On the mostly frozen lake, I saw groups of ducks looking for open water. As I moved through the woods, I saw little groups of sparrows, but that was about it for wildlife. I didn’t take pictures, as I have them from before on the other post about Echo Lake.

I was thinking of taking another long walk or even do some running in the morning, but I will get too thirsty. I can’t eat or drink before my surgery. So today will do it for a while. It will feel strange to be so sedentary for a few weeks. Hopefully the thought of hiking and walking in the spring weather will sustain me during that time! And I’ll be tracking recovery progress on my Racing for a Cure blog.

A Splash of Color on This Winter Day

2011-01-06T02:44:00.000-08:00

Back in November, I took my final fall color hike of 2010, but could not post the pictures because I couldn't find my camera's USB cable. Well, that hasn't changed, but I bought an SD card reader, so here are some photos from that hike.

My hike did about a seven mile loop along the James River, and for much of the time, you would not know that you were near a big city. Here is the start of the hike, along the North Side Trail.

The trail at first was adjacent to Maymont, and this burst of fall color appeared quickly:

And this pretty scene at Maymont's Japanese Gardens begged for a photo:

At this point, the trail climbed steeply over some switchbacks and headed through a residential neighborhood for about a half mile. This tree was at one of the switchbacks:

Back in the woods, this little maple was pleasant to the eyes:

The trail passed by two cemetaries. This one is the beautiful Hollywood Cemetary, sometimes called "The Arlington of the Confederacy" and site of at least one hilly Team in Training run each season:

As I neared the Robert E. Lee Bridge to cross over to Belle Isle, I had a view of Tredegar Iron Works with Richmond just beyond:

The Hollywood Rapids are always inspirational to see. Belle Isle is my favorite spot in the city, and is also my favorite Team in Training workout. We do that run at least once a season as well:

After crossing the other half of the river from Belle Isle, I headed north along the Buttermilk Spring Trail, so named because dairymen of old would put their jugs of milk in the spring to keep it cool:

This beech forest could have been in New England:

As could this rocky ledge, all just a couple of miles from a large city center, and closer still to neighborhoods:

I crossed back over the James over the Boulevard Bridge just at sunset. If I had $25 for every time I have run or walked over this bridge during Team in Training runs, I could take a pretty nice trip!

The Great Horned Owl

2011-01-04T15:01:00.000-08:00

"The Great Horned Owl"

This morn, I heard a great horned owl,
A fierce and nocturnal fowl,
Calling “Hoo hoo-hoo hoo, hooooo, hooooo!”
I mused if he was on the prowl.

Were I a rabbit, mouse, or shrew,
I wonder what things I would do
On hearing that an owl were near?
An owl, I’d probably eschew!

Would I hide, heart pounding with fear,
And stay there till the coast was clear?
Or would I venture, strong and bold,
Out in the owl’s own biosphere?

To live in fear and thus grow old
With much in life so uncontrolled?
Or risk it all by being bold?
These things I pondered in the cold.

Art Ritter
January 4, 2011

My Goals for 2011

2011-01-02T04:21:00.000-08:00

In my "Racing For a Cure" blog, I have outlined my goals for 2011. One of them involves the outdoors and this blog.

Happy New Year! What do you hope to accomplish in 2011?

Where Would Your Grand 2011 Adventure Be?

2011-01-01T15:43:00.000-08:00

With a new year, I thought I would try a new poll, so here it is:

Assuming money and time were no object, which of the following would you pick for a grand outdoor adventure in 2011? I’ll leave the poll open for the rest of January.

1. Traveling across Alaska, British Columbia, and the Yukon

2. Hiking in all of the Rocky Mountain, California, and Pacific Northwest National Parks

3. Hiking one of the long trails: Appalachian, Pacific Crest, or Continental Divide Trails

4. Trekking across the Alps

5. Trekking in the Himalayan Mountains

6. Hitting all the major East and South African National Parks on wildlife safari

7. Visiting Antarctica and wild places in the Southern Oceans

8. Outdoor adventures in Australia and New Zealand

9. Other – Where? Leave a comment!

Sunset at Back Bay

2011-01-01T05:01:00.000-08:00

I thought I would try something a little different with this post of a short New Year's Eve hike in Back Bay National Wildlife Refuge. I saw great wildlife during my three miles of walking, as well as a mesmerizing sunset, all while being entertained by the voices of thousands of tundra swans. But I took this walk specifically to try out a feature with my mapping software (DeLorme's Topo North America 9.0) that I had not used before. So the wildlife (and sunset) was considered to be a New Year bonus.

Here is my track for the hike, as captured by my DeLorme PN-60 GPS and then synched up with Topo North America:

And here is the same track showing where I snapped several of the photos you will see in this post:

The software has a Geo-Tagger feature that compares the time that the photos were taken against the track, and tags each photo to a spot on the earth based on the time you were there. Obviously, you need to have the correct time in your digital camera. Then it shows, placed on the topo map, a thumbnail of each photo that you choose to tag. Further along in the post, you'll see a larger version of each of these five photos, plus a few more that I threw in.

I didn't get close enough to wildlife for a good photo, but in addition to the swans seen far out on the bay (and heard wherever I walked), I saw a clapper rail, black ducks (I think), a great blue heron, Canada geese, and a kingfisher. The latter posed for a while on top of a dead tree, and then hovered over the pond for about 20 seconds before diving to miss a fish. And I talked to a man that claimed to have just seen a beaver swimming along the shore, but my guess is that it was a nutria.

From this point, I could see hundreds if not thousands of swans, and the cacophony of sounds coming from them was wondrous. In a few short months, they will be up in the Yukon.

There was still snow to be seen in many places from Sunday's storm down this way:

These feathers are all that remain of an unlucky bird that apparently ran into a hawk or owl:

The sun was starting to set as I headed south along the dike road:

From this point, the west dike path heads to the west and then south:

But that path is closed, so I headed east and then south as far as you are permitted to this time of year, to the big wildlife observation blind, with views over some ponds:

I look forward to April, when the path is open again all the way to False Cape State Park. But for now, I had to go back. As I turned back north and walked back to the car, I was treated to a spectacular sunset. The colors reflected off the bay, and also tinted the recent snows rose and orange. Here are the final pictures I took of this sunset, a mesmerizing last sunset for 2010, about which I wrote this poem two days later:

Eight Great Outdoor Experiences in 2010

2010-12-09T17:41:00.000-08:00

On this date, eight years in remission from Hodgkin lymphoma, I thought I would look back on 2010 and write about eight great memories I have had in the great ourdoors this year. These are not in any particular ranking order. If you want to read about my eight great moments racing for a cure in 2010, click here.

1. Rip Rap Hollow hike. Every summer since 2003, I do this wonderful hike to celebrate still being on God’s green earth with enough strength to hike. Rip Rap Hollow was my first post-cancer hike, and it is a beautiful one. I know some day, I will do this hike for the last time, but I hope that won’t be for a while. I often see wildlife on the hike, but not this time.

2. Hiking in Mount Rainier National Park. Wow, hard to top this! After the Seattle half-marathon in June, I left Seattle and my teammates behind and struck out on my own for three days of hiking. I was tired and my left foot hurt like crazy, and there was deep snow everywhere over 4,500 feet, but I think I did about 25 miles of hiking in many parts of the southern section of this park. As a bonus, I had incredible views of Rainier one day.

3. Seeing a lynx. We were driving past Denali National Park in September on the way to a restaurant. Suddenly, like a vision, a tall, gangly cat ran across the road in front of the car through the rain – a Canada lynx! He disappeared into the thick brush in seconds, but the image endures of the first feline I have ever seen in the wild.

4. Backpacking the Priest. I’ve been wanting to try backpacking again for years, and did just over a month ago, doing a circuit hike through the Priest Wilderness in SW Virginia. It was definitely one of my great outdoor moments this year, and I need to do it again in 2011. Man, it was cold, though.

5. The starry night. My friend and I camped at the summit of Priest Mountain on the backpacking trip on that cold, clear night. The wind was howling and we huddled around our little fire after gulping down dinner. I looked up, and realized that the stars were just amazing. We walked out on rocks to get a clear view and were both awestruck with their brilliance. The word awesome is much overused, but this truly was awesome.

6. Cruising the Kenai Fjords. While in Alaska, we did a one day wildlife cruise in Kenai Fjords National Park, and it was incredible. Not only was the scenery spectacular with all the mountains, glaciers, and islands, but we saw incredible marine wildlife. Some of the new species we viewed were Steller’s sea lions, Dall porpoises, fin whale, humpbacked whale, tufted and horned puffins, and sea otters.

7. Wildlife in Denali National Park. About a week after seeing the Kenai Fjords, we took an all day wilderness bus tour in Denali. Again, the scenery was spectacular, as was the wildlife viewing. We saw Dall sheep, caribou, grizzly bear, moose, and wolves, along with a few less impressive species. Our day included seeing three wolves chasing Dall sheep across a sheer cliff.

8. Beta Testing the DeLorme PN-60 GPS. From March through August, I was a beta tester for the new DeLorme PN-60 GPS that synchs up with a SPOT satellite messenger, along with DeLormes impressive Topo USA 9 software. I did a variety of tests all over the place, including Washington State while I was there. It was fun to participate with this, and as a reward, I recently received a production PN-60, the SPOT, a year subscription to the messaging service, and the Topo USA software. I recommend you check this GPS out. DeLorme has received national awards for these products.

A Late Posting on a Late Fall Hike

2010-11-28T16:39:00.000-08:00

So, first, my internet connection was toast. I never could fix the wireless connection but finally got broadband working again. Then, there was Thanksgiving travels. Finally, I couldn’t find the USB cable to connect my camera to my computer. Still can’t!

But anyhow, a week ago today, I took a late fall hike along the James River. I hope to eventually post photos of the pretty day, if I ever find that cable. Even though it was late November, there was still plenty of fall color to be seen. The only downside was foot pain. I thought that my neuroma was responding to the alcohol shots, based on the lack of real pain while backpacking. But then, I ran three miles the day before the hike, and from the start of the hike Sunday, every left step hurt. By the end of the hike, it was exquisitely painful, and on Monday, I could barely walk at more than a slow limp for a couple of days.

Back to the hike. It was seven miles, and looped around the river, following the route mapped below:
On the map, I started at the upper left near the Nickel Bridge. If I had $100 for every time I have run or walked over that bridge with Team in Training, I could take a really nice trip. On the map, I went clockwise: past Maymont on the Northside Trail, walking a half mile through city neighborhoods, then back along the river. I passed Hollywood Cemetery, site of many Team in Training early morning runs over the years, then came out on Tredegar Street with its views of the Tredegar Iron Works. I crossed to Belle Isle, also site of prior TNT runs and of city hikes, stopping to admire the Hollywood Rapids. I looped around Belle Isle, and hiked north along the Buttermilk Springs Trail. Many times, it felt like I was deep in a fall forest rather than in a large city. I ended back at the Nichol Bridge two and a half hours after starting and exactly at sunset. The full moon was beautiful that evening.

I got some nice pictures of wild Richmond in the fall, and if I ever find my USB camera cable, I will share them. Promise!

Priest Backpacking Trip - Crabtree Falls

2010-11-12T03:35:00.000-08:00

Chris and I had packed everything up from camping out the night before, wolfed down a couple of fig newtons and some trail mix, and prepared to hit the trail. First we admired the great views from Priest Mountain one last time, but this time in morning light.

We headed down off the mountain, passing these really cool frost tubes at many points along the trail. We had never seen anything like them before.

We had dropped about 1,200 feet by the time we reached Crabtree Meadows, and then the trail leveled off for the next mile or so until we reached the top of Crabtree Falls, with great views of the surrounding mountains.

It was a good place for a late brunch, so Chris fired up his Jet-Boil stove, and we had hot chocolate and tea, then noodles and chucky bars for lunch.

It was now time to complete the trip by hiking down to the bottom of Crabtree Falls. During the 1.7 mile trail, the falls drop 1,000 feet in five major cascades and countless minor ones. It was perhaps the most beautiful falls I have ever seen, even in the low water of fall. The trail was steep with many switchbacks, and often wet and slippery - even icy in spots. We each took a tumble at points. Here are some photos of the sights along the way down. We stopped many, many times to take pictures of the beautiful falls.

At the end of the trail, we started walking along the the road 4.5 miles back to the car, virtually all up hill. We hitch-hiked as we walked, and after a mile and a half, a couple stopped and gave us a ride to the fish hatchery. What a huge help that was. Our trip was over. It had seemed like a good idea a month ago, and despite the cold, it had turned out that way!

Priest Backpacking Trip – A Cold Night

2010-11-10T19:53:00.000-08:00

So we had reached the top of Priest Mountain and enjoyed the beautiful but cold and windy views from the north rocks. All of the other people admiring the view had left. We now had about 70 minutes of light left to set up camp. After looking around, we settled on a nice, open spot just yards from the rocky view. The big rocks provided some shelter from the wind. Next step – get some water.

We tied our food bags up in a tree and headed back to the Priest Shelter and its putative spring. It was a 0.4 mile walk all downhill, but obviously all uphill coming back to camp. There had to have been at least 30 boy scouts at the shelter area. It looked like a tent city! We filtered about 4 liters of water. I still had two liters in my Camelback in my pack. Then we trudged back uphill in the declining light, and put up our tents.

I picked an open grassy spot with some sparse trees overhead for my tent site. The tent was tiny – about the length of my sleeping bag, maybe 8 inches wider than the bag, and about 24-30 inches high at the very front. There was a small area to put my pack under at the front, although it stuck into the tent just a bit. We lucked out with the dry weather because I could place various gear around while setting up my tent. I had to rummage through my pack to find things I needed. We got the tents up with our sleeping gear organized just before dark. By then, I had also put on long underwear, gloves, a hat, and all my top layers because it got colder and colder.

Chris cooked dinner while I stumbled around in the dark collecting firewood, and after a hot meal that totally hit the spot we got a nice fire going in an existing firepit. Someone had set up big logs around the firepit that made a nice seat for dinner and trying to stay warm. I was coming back to the fire with some more dead branches when I looked up to the north through the trees and saw the stars. They were amazing! The stars in the Big Dipper looked as bright as Jupiter usually does! We walked out on the rocks in the open along the edge of the mountain and gazed up in wonder. I have never seen stars so bright. You could see the entire Milky Way, including its spiral arms. The entire sky was ablaze with stars. If I had 10,000 words to write, I could not adequately describe the scene, but we both agreed it would be our one dominant memory of this trip. We lay on our backs on the rocks for a while, enjoying the view for a few minutes until the continuous winds drove us back to the fire.

The fire burned down about 8:20 and we said goodnight and went to bed. It was just too cold and windy to do otherwise. The little bucket of water that we still had was already coated in thick ice less than three hours after we collected it, so we dumped it to prevent a solid block of ice by morning.

I crawled into my tent. Man, that thing was small – and cold. I took off my trousers, gloves, and boots but left all my other clothing on – even my hat. It took me a good 5 minutes to squirm around and get settled into the sleeping bag liner and into the bag. The wind was roaring outside but the tent was fairly well sheltered. I finally got warm enough but could not sleep. After a couple of hours I got up to visit a tree, then rushed back to bed. I repeated this maneuver, with dread, several more times during the night. It kind of went like this:

Debate whether to get up or not. Finally decide I have to. Put on my headlamp and glasses. Unzip the sleeping bag, usually struggling a bit. Unzip the front of the tent. Realize that although the tent feels cold, it is a lot colder outside. Squirm out of the bag to a kind of crouching – kneeling position: the tent is too short to sit up in. Find my boots and place them outside the tent. Crawl outside and put one foot in a boot, usually tripping in the process. Get the other foot into the other boot, usually tripping again. Walk over to a tree, usually tripping on something, to take care of business. Come back to the tent, shivering. Kneel down and remove boots while crawling into the tent. Place boots in tent. Take what seemed lie 5 minutes to crawl into the sleeping bag and liner and get the bag and tent zipped up. Then lie there at least 15 minutes until I felt more or less warm again.

On one such trip, I nearly screamed like a little girl when I rammed my shin into a shin-high thin stump, ripping a jagged little line along my shin. I suppressed the urge to scream but instead I said – well, never mind what I said, gentle reader! Suffice to say, on my next trip I watched out very carefully for that stump.

I did sleep some but fitfully, as I hate sleeping on my back. Every time I slept on my side, my hip bone would eventually ache from being pressed into the ground. I listened with envy to Chris snoring loudly enough to be heard over the wind in his tent 30 feet away. The wind blew a good 15-25 knots all night but could not suppress Chris’s snoring.

Eventually, daylight came and I ventured out to scrounge up some more firewood. It had to have been around 15 degrees F, and I decided it was just too cold, so I went back to bed. I lay in the warm sleeping bag thinking about the hike, thinking about the stars last night, thinking about life. Chris – well, he was snoring. When we both got up for good about 9AM, we had to skip our planned pancake breakfast because we had no water. We had some ice, but no liquid. So we each ate a couple of fig newtons and some trail mix for breakfast, broke camp, and headed down the trail. We would be descending alongside the amazing Crabtree Falls, the highest cascading waterfall east of the Mississippi. We knew that somewhere along the trail, we could get water from the stream and prepare brunch. It was still well below freezing, but it felt great to be moving and the soreness and stiffness from the night in the tent quickly wore off.

To be continued...

Priest Backpacking Trip - AT to the Priest

2010-11-09T17:49:00.000-08:00

We left Spy Rock in early afternoon, scrambled down the steep rocks, and retraced our steps to the Appalachian Trail, heading north towards Priest Mountain. It was about 3.5 to 4 more miles, much of it uphill but with some very pleasant ridge walking as well. After the big crowds at Spy Rock, the solitude of the trail was kind of nice, and led us to speculate that we would have the Priest Mountain Shelter to ourselves as cold as it was going to get.

Much of the walk was without views, and we saw hardly any wildlife – just a few juncos from time to time. Now and then we had pretty views, like this one of Cash Hollow.

But mostly, it was just the Appalachian Trail going through some nice forest land.
After a while, we had a view of Priest Mountain looming above us:
I have no idea what this plant was, but we thought it was very interesting:

Eventually, we passed a hiker going towards Spy Rock, and shortly thereafter, we came to the intersection of the AT with a very rough and steep woods road coming up from the Crabtree Meadows area. It was at this point that our illusion of solitude at the shelter was shattered. Boy scouts staggered up the road, complaining about the steepness. “How much further to Priest Shelter?” several asked. “About a mile and maybe 800 more feet in elevation,” we replied. We were greeted with loud groans, and headed up into the Priest Wilderness Area in the George Washington National Forest.
The final 1.3 miles to the summit was nearly 100% uphill, but was not bad, other than we were getting tired of carrying our packs. About a half mile from the shelter, a man was walking down and told us that he was looking for the rest of his boy scout group. He told us that they had a very big group up here from Virginia Beach. It was at that point that Chris and I decided to skip the shelter with its spring, lean-to, and outhouse, and just head to the summit to camp. We got up there about 4:30. There were about a half dozen hikers enjoying the views, which we did as well. They were spectacular to the north and east especially and we soaked them in for some time despite the rapidly chilling temperatures and very strong winds.

Then, just before looking for a spot to camp, we each posed for a photo:

We had only a little more than an hour of daylight left, and much to do, so it was time to set up camp for the night.

Priest Backpacking Trip - Spy Rock

2010-11-09T02:47:00.001-08:00

(See Intro)

November 6. Our trip was really three hikes in one: Spy Rock, The Priest, and Crabtree Falls. Chris drove us to the trailhead at the Montebello Fish Hatchery, and we started hiking upward toward Spy Rock about 11:15. It was a cold day and I started with a couple of layers. I would be stripping and adding layers all day, until we settled at camp that night, at which point I put on everything I had. The first half mile of the hike was up a steep old woods road. There was very little fall color left, but I did see this firey maple early in the hike:

Here is Chris hoofing it up the woods road:

We reached the Appalachian Trail, and started heading towards Spy Rock, just over a mile away. Here I am, standing next to a tree that reminded me of a gigantic elephant's foot:

We started running into patches of snow, but we never encountered any real accumulation. It was certainly cold enough for snow, but by now, the exertion of hiking uphill had led me to strip down to one layer. As long as I kept moving, it was enough.

We reached the junction to Spy Rock, hiking through a park-like forest with beautiful potential campsites (but no water). When we got to the "rock," a huge granite dome of sorts, there was no obvious way up. So we scrambled up, taking a good 20 minutes and several false starts. With 360 degree views, it was well worth the exertion. There were many, many people on the rock, and we had encounterd lots of folks on the trail. The winds on the exposed rock were strong and cold, so it was time to put the fleece back on, as well as my hat and gloves. We found a protected spot and ate our lunch of sesame bagels with peanut butter and honey, fig newtons, and hot chocolate. We enjoyed the views for a while, talked to a number of people on the rock, then packed up and scrambled (with a little sliding involved) back down to the Appalachian Trail. Next stop: Priest Mountain!

Here are some pictures from Spy Rock.

View to the southwest:

Art on Spy Rock:

Ice chunks in a puddle:

Chris on Spy Rock:

View towards the north, where we are heading for the night:

Panorama of part of the view from Spy Rock:

To be continued...

Backpacking The Priest - Intro

2010-11-08T17:56:00.000-08:00

It seemed like a great idea at the time, back in early October with the warm days and cool nights of fall. “What do you say we do a backpacking trip?” my co-worker Chris said. “Sounds great! Let’s do it!” was my eager reply. We looked at our schedules and settled on November 6 and 7. Early November in Virginia, even in the mountains, is pretty pleasant more often than not. We spent a couple of weeks chatting now and then about potential routes we could do in two days, and eventually Chris suggested The Priest, which is a 4,000 foot peak in the Religious Range of George Washington National Forest. But the route he had looked at seemed too short, so I started doing a little research and came up with a modification. Day 1: starting from the Montebello Fish Hatchery, we hike up to Spy Rock, then head out on the Appalachian Trail and hike up The Priest. We spend the night at the shelter, which has a nice spring very close to it. Day 2: on Sunday, we hike off the mountain and descend along Crabtree Falls, the tallest series of cascades at 1,000 feet east of the Mississippi. We reach the road and hike about three miles back to the car. (Never mind that it was actually 4.5 miles, and nearly 100% of it uphill.) Here is the route, with the starting point to the left side of the map, with the Priest being the lower right corner of the map:
We agreed on the route, Chris said he would loan me a tent, and we planned our meals and who would bring what. On Monday, the weather forecast for the weekend said temperatures would drop into the 20’s for the weekend, so I decided I needed to spring for a warmer sleeping bag. I went out and bought a Marmot Trestles bag good to 15 degrees, and also a Sea to Summit bag liner that would help keep the bag clean and also add about a dozen more degrees to the temperature range. Given the weekend weather we ended up with, this proved to be the wisest $160 I think I have ever spent.

I haven’t been backpacking in years and needed to buy a few other things (including a good topo map of the area because you don't want to trust navigation solely to a GPS), dug out my pack, and tried to figure out how to cram it all in:
My pack ended up weighing about 36 pounds fully packed, including the little tent that Chris loaned me. That is about 6 pounds more than I really wanted to carry but I could not figure a way to save weight, other than carrying 2 liters of water instead of 3 would have cut about 2 pounds. My backpacking pack is not huge. I bought it for a 3 day trip three years ago in the White Mountains, and on that trip I did not carry a tent, sleeping bag, stove, or a lot of food because I was staying at AMC huts. So given the big sleeping bag and other cold weather stuff I had, I had to get pretty creative to fit everything in, but it happened. Saturday arrived, I finished packing, and headed over to Chris’s home in Midlothian.

It was obviously going to be a very cold weekend, but cold or not, the trip was on. The forecast for towns near the area was for highs around 40 and lows near 20, but those towns were not at 4,000 feet. A female friend asked me with some alarm the day before “You’re not going through with this, are you? You might freeze up there!” “Of course I am going through with this! We’re men!” was my feeble, but accurate reply.

To be continued...

Weekend Warblers

2010-10-31T20:08:00.000-07:00

I got back to the beach and Back Bay for the weekend for a couple of glorious October days. Saturday was a bit cool and breezy, and I spent the day on the beach in a windbreaker. I read, watched the shore birds and dolphins, and walked about three miles on the beach. The dolphins put on an amazing show, going into a type of feeding frenzy and leaping into the air.

I've been tired lately, and slept in both days until 7:45 - almost unheard of for me. So I didn't get in a dawn hike, as is my custom when I am down that way. But I did take a break from the near perfect beach weather Sunday to take a three mile hike in Back Bay National Wildlife Refuge. I walked along the little nature trail system for a while, marveling at all of the warblers coming through on their perilous migration back to Central America for the winter. I saw several different types, all hard to identify this time of year for me. I am pretty sure one of the dominant ones was the Myrtle (yellow rumped) warbler. I saw many dozens of warblers, and stopped often to try to watch them in my binoculars as they flitted around. I also saw a deer, just yards from the path, which was amazing since hunting season here ended just the day before. Somehow, they know, but when I took one step off the path to try to get close enough for a photo, she bounded into the woods. From there, I walked down the East Dyke Road for a bit, knowing that come tomorrow, it will be closed for six months to allow the waterfowl - especially the tundra swans - their winter break. Along the way, I spotted a raft of some kind of duck in the distance, saw a large turtle which dove in alarm (as if I were going to jump in and grab him), and got a good view of a harrier as it swooped over the marsh.

Here are a few photos:

Cattails along side the path:

Knarled tree trunk:

A peaceful freshwater pond along the path. I have frequently seen American bittern in this pond, but not today:

This bald cypress is a conifer, but loses its needles for the winter. Right now, they have turned a beautifully coppery or bronze color:

This tree looked like it was covered in white flowers, but they are some type of airborne seed, waiting for just the right wind to come along:

I did a SPOT check-in test from this point:

http://fms.ws/3lxXe/36.65702//-75.90869

Then I took a picture from the East Dyke Road, which runs as a foot and bike path to False Cape State Park:

Why the Mountains are Blue

2010-10-17T18:55:00.000-07:00

I like to write poetry myself from time to time. Imagine my surprise to find not only a cemetary in the middle of the woods during my hike up Little Devil Stairs, but this sad poem in the cemetary. It commemorates the mountain people who had to leave their homes to create Shenandoah National Park. A photo of the cemetary is in my Little Devil Stairs post. I have transcribed the poem here.
“Why the Mountains are Blue”
By Wayne Baldwin

Enter here these Blue Mountains,
And enjoy the Sky-Line’s views,
Sample the streams and fountains,
But don’t forget the sacrifice that was made for you

That you can come and experience this National Park today,
Many lives were affected in many different ways.
While you relax and take in all this natural beauty,
I’d be remiss if I failed in my duty….

To tell of a people who once resided on this land,
Who toiled, labored, loved, laughed, and cried,
Having their lives altered by a “plan”,
And whose stories, many untold, shall never die.

Whose way of live and culture were exaggerated by many an unjust fact,
Whose property was condemned by a legislative act,
Who moved willingly or by force,
Changing forever their life’s course.

Out from the protection of the hollows and vales,
Out into resettlements or to properties their pittance procured at sales.
Looking over their shoulders with tears in their eyes,
Pitifully departing their old homes among the skies.

Leaving familiar sights, their homes, their burial plots,
Most left begrudgingly for some low country spots….
The blue of the mountains is not due to the atmosphere
It’s because there is a sadness which lingers here.

Climbing Little Devil Stairs

2010-10-17T17:38:00.000-07:00

On a perfect October day, I joined the Richmond and Charlottesville Adventurers Meetup group for a wonderful hike up Little Devil Stairs in Shenandoah National Park. 13 of us joined together for this 8 mile (including a mile up and back to the Skyline Drive) circuit hike. There was some fall colors, and at least some water in Keyser Run as it tumbled down the steep gorge. The hike has minimal views, with its appeal being the steep "stairway" up the gorge. The climb is about 1,500 feet to where the trail joins the Keyser Run Fire Road for the return of the circuit along a gradual descent to the start. Most of the elevation gain seems to be in the middle mile of the hike up, where you litterally feel like you are walking up giant stairs much of the way. The mile up to the Skyline Drive added about 140 more feet, according to my new DeLorme PN-60 GPS. Here is the elevation profile as captured by my GPS:

And here is the track of the circuit, mapped in DeLorme's Topo USA 9.0:

From what I hear, spring is a great time to do this hike because the stream is gushing along, but even in the fall, there is consistent water in Keyser Run. Here, some leaves float in a little pool:

Members of our group climbing parts of the Little Devil Stairs:

Autumnal orange against a robin-egg blue sky:

This was a particularly steep section:

Followed by crossing the stream on a log:

Pretty flowing in Team in Training colors:

More fall colors along the descent of the fire road:

This cemetary in the middle of the woods was a reminder of the human cost of creating this tremendous park when numerous mountain communities had their residents evicted, often forcefully. In the cemetary is a plaque with a poem commemorating the mountain people who were forced out. The location of the cemetary is marked with the American flag waypoint near the bottom of the map near the beginning of this post, and it was about a mile from getting back to the car:

This tree reminded me of a strange alien being:

Dusk and Dawn by the Marsh

2010-10-11T23:15:00.000-07:00

A week after running in the Livestrong 5K, I was back at the beach during glorious October weather. I spent time Sunday afternoon reading on the beach, taking a walk along the shore - which I love doing - and watching many dolphins fishing out in the water. I also saw a large whale a couple of times as it swam with the dolphins. It was just a couple of hundred yards off the beach. What a magnificent animal!

That evening, I took a walk at dusk in Back Bay National Wildlife Refuge. I was reminded of being there this past May with my granddaughter. Definitely, I miss her! I remembered the spot where we were so close to a deer, and where she saw a turtle, and how happy she was. In the morning Monday, I was up early to greet the new day back in the marsh. These walks were less a hike than just being out in nature observing it, and I walked no more than four miles total on the two walks.

I have always loved being near wetlands. When I was a kid growing up in suburban Philadelphia, my dad used to take me sometimes to Tinicum Marsh near the airport. With all the marvelous birds, it seemed like a wilderness. I have always maintained that sense of wonder about being near a marsh. Here are some photos for my walks.

There is a cool boardwalk path you can walk along and view the marsh. These are as the sun was starting to set.

Bald cypress standing in water, which was much higher than my last time here.

From a point at the end of the footpath are great views of Back Bay.

The cresent moon says hello.

The sun set, and it was time to leave, but I enjoyed my short walk at dusk.

Monday morning, I was up minutes too late to see the sun rise.

I always love seeing the marsh in the still of the morning.

I came across this toad. He had an injured leg, so I placed him off the road. Hopefully, he will find a way to survive.

Fall colors are more subtle in wetlands than in the forest, but they are still present all the same.

I took a short walk at the beach in the refuge. I love walking on the beach near first light. From this point, it is pristine beach all the way to the North Carolina border. If you are willing to walk 20 miles round trip, you can see all the "McMansions" at the border. I know, because I made this walk three years ago in October.

I found this whelk shell and this horseshoe crab on the beach.

Then I watched sanderlings trying to find breakfast in their daily struggle for survival. I like the way the birds are reflected in the wet sand in this photo, and the way I managed to catch the foamy wave behind them.

Time to go get some breakfast myself! I bet some creature is making a good meal from these persimmons!

"Un-Glacier National Park?"

2010-10-07T18:13:00.000-07:00

This article was on CNN.com today, and it caught my attention. Glacier National Park is one of the most magnificent places I have ever seen. I had heard about this, but I think the timeframe I had heard of was about 50 years. This is much, much worse.

CNN article follows...

As recently as 100 years ago, Montana's Glacier National Park had more than 150 glaciers throughout its more than one million acres. In 2005 only 27 remained. Today the total is down to a just 25 and those that are left are mere remnants of their former frozen selves. With warmer temperatures and changes to the water cycle, scientists predict Glacier National Park will be glacier-free by 2030.

Daniel Fagre, a U.S. Geological Survey ecologist who works at the national park believes that even those estimates are too conservative and says the park's namesakes will be gone about ten years ahead of their predicted demise. "The glaciers have been around for the last seven thousand years," he told CNN, "and if we are going to lose them in the next 10 or 20 years that is a pretty radical shift."

The rapid melting of glaciers has led scientists to believe that mountains are more susceptible to global warming than the lowlands beneath them. "Mountain ecosystems have been changing about twice as fast as the rest of the globe. We have had temperature increases that are two times greater than the average," said Fagre.

Many scientists are now concerned about the cascading effects on the landscape and the consequences for all species -- including humans. "Many people are directly dependent on the water coming out of mountains and in the arid western United States that figure is much larger, it is about 85 percent," said Fagre."

So even if you live a long ways away you are tied to the water in mountains and so we have a lot of concerns of future climate change scenarios." Fagre says mountains are the "water towers of the world" with 70 percent of the world's fresh water frozen in glaciers.

CNN traveled to the edge of Grinnell glacier that is at an altitude averaging 7,000 feet (2,100 meters) and was named after George Bird Grinnell, an early American conservationist and explorer. "When George Grinnell came here in 1887 he described this place as being a thousand foot high in ice and this entire basin was filled to the mountaintop," said Fagre. "Now I stand beside a lake that is 65 meters or 187 feet deep." We could see chunks of ice falling off, and others just dripping away. Fagre bent down to show us what's underneath the thin edge of the glacier."

Look under here and you can see there is a lot of mucky sauce stuff and this is a lot of the rock flour ground by the glacier because it has been dragging rocks across the underlying rock layer and rubbing those two together creating this very fine material," he said. "Many people would not be impressed by this little dirty glacier that seems to be obviously falling apart, that has become very tiny and decrepit -- and people often think about glaciers as these beautiful white expansive, blue colors – but those are healthy glaciers and this one is not. This one is on its last legs."

In 1997, USGS Physical Scientist Lisa McKeon and Fagre started the RepeatPhotography Project at Glacier National Park tracking down old photographs of the park's glaciers taken by first explorers in the 1900s and comparing them with their own images. McKeon and other USGS scientists try to re-photograph the exact spot where the historic photograph was taken, though it's not always possible when the original photographer was standing on ice that is now long gone. "If you look at these pictures, you cannot say they haven't changed over time. It's very obvious," says McKeon.

Glacier National Park is celebrating its 100th anniversary this year but soon the glaciers that gave the park its name will be gone. "Glacier National Park has been the poster child park for climate change for a lot of people in the country and I think that there has been pretty sensational news about the glaciers disappearing in fairly short order," says Chas Cartwright, Glacier National Park Superintendent. "There is a lot less water coming off the mountain. There are dramatic changes in vegetation. It begs the question: how is that going to impact wildlife in this park?"

Many of the plant and animal species that call the park home require cold water, meaning the ecosystem of the park may change dramatically when the glaciers are gone. There is a general consensus that man is contributing to the planet's changing climate. Some skeptics remain, but Dan Fagre isn't one of them."

I think on a global scale when you look at all the ice disappearing all around the world, there is no other explanation for that then climate change that is driven by people," he said. What is beyond doubt is that whatever the causes magnificent and environmentally crucial glaciers around the world are retreating: a loss to nature and to the human species.

Maybe a hike, maybe not

2010-10-03T09:10:00.000-07:00

Well, I may yet try to get in a short hike today before the big game between the Washington Redskins and the Philadelphia Eagles at 4PM, Donovan McNabb's return to Philly. But I am thinking it is more likely I will just go to the gym for a while and work out, and/or maybe just take a walk.

My legs are a little sore from the Livestrong Dolphin Challenge 5K yesterday day at the beach - photos and report here. I ran that race not just for fun but to honor several dozen cancer victims and survivors. But it was a lot of fun running at the beach on a very pretty day.

In the coming week, I am going to try to post my next few Alaskan adventures: a float trip down the Kenai River, a hike to Russian River Falls to see salmon fighting flowing water to fulfill their life's destiny, and initial hikes in Denali National Park.

Pleasant Mountain, Pleasant Hike

2010-09-27T17:30:00.000-07:00

I'll take a break from back-posting about Alaska to write about yesterday's hike up Mount Pleasant in the George Washington National Forest in Western Virginia. I'd never been there before and had a great trip. I had joined a local hiking group about a month ago using the internet service Meetup.com, but this was my first chance to actually hike with them because of the Alaska trip. Because of rain, a few people cancelled, but we had a fun and active group of nine of us do this hike - really nice people. As someone who often decides to hike at the last minute and ends up hiking alone, I really enjoyed hiking with a group.

The trip was about 6 miles, I think, and a loop, which is always nice. There was a good amount of uphill. I think we gained about 1,300 feet to get to a couple of the summits. Mount Pleasant had tremendous views to the east and the west from two different summit points. Our hike started in the rain, but after a couple of miles in - right about the time I decided to remove my raincoat because I was getting too hot and soaked from sweat - the rain stopped. So I was able to get my camera out of its ziplock bag and start shooting photos. Some of them are shown here.

Right after the rain stopped, some of us gathered for a photo about a half mile from the summit.

There were lots of apple trees in this area, as well as tons of acorns and hickories. The nuts of the latter tasted a lot like pecans - delicious. There should be lots of deer and bear in this area with all the great concentrated calories. We did see bear scat.

The view from the summit was beautiful with the peaks sticking out like islands in the clouds.

Here was our merry band of hikers, less the photographer.

This scene reminded me of waves starting to break over an island.

Sure beats being in the office!

We saw lots of flowers on this hike like these:

And these closed gentian (in Team in Training colors of purple and green):

One of the guys joked that the ad for this part of the forest would be "this forest comes fully fern-ished:"

Many uphill sections on this hike. It was a good workout (and a ton of fun). Those who decided not to come along because of the rain missed out on a great trip.

National Park Poll

2010-09-15T18:13:00.000-07:00

Well, my last poll (ideal hiking group size) didn't get much response. Three people responded, one saying that they like to hike solo, and the other two saying three or four people is the ideal size. I'm with the latter group, although any number from 1 to 20 or so is fine with me for a nice hike!

But I thought I'd try another poll. The question is: how many national parks in the United States and/or Canada have you been to in your life? I will leave the poll up for a month. At the end of that time, I will hopefully have all my Alaskan trip reports posted, and I will tally up my own number of national park visits (increased by three this month).

All polls are anonymous, by the way!

Final Alaskan Views: Turnagain Arm

2010-09-11T22:40:00.000-07:00

September 11. We left the Alaska Wildlife Conservation Center, and headed back towards Anchorage. We had only a few hours left in our amazing trip. We hoped to see beluga again in Turnagain Arm, and this time maybe get a better photo. But I guess the tides were wrong. There is a ferocious tidal current and huge range in this part of the world: you can get an idea of the current in this photo:

We did snap a few final photos along the way before reluctantly getting in our Toyota Matrix and heading to the airport for the long flights home.

Views of Turnagain Arm and the surounding mountains that rise from the sea:

Some panoramas from different viewpoints:

I actually explored this little island a bit ...

and found this cool tree:

Alaska Wildlife Conservation Center

2010-09-11T21:11:00.000-07:00

September 11. Just 20 minutes or so from the Alyeska Resort is a pretty cool place, the Alaska Wildlife Conservation Center. A teammate of mine in the 2005 Midnight Sun Marathon had actually come here then and told me about it. It's primary purposes are to provide a haven for rescued wildlife and to have a breeding and research herd for the threatened wood bison, which I think is North America's largest land mammal. It is very rare, found in one area of Alaska and in parts of Northern Canada. They also have some breeding stock of musk oxen, which are rare in Alaska. Along the way, they take in badly needed money - it takes a lot of cabbage to run a place like this -

and provide education by opening the center to the public. Here are some photos of some of the major megafauna they have, all found somewhere in Alaska.

This bull elk had his harem all to himself. He bugled at times to make sure all other bulls knew he was the king, and also wanted to mix it up with a large musk ox in the next pen, who seemed very willing to oblige!
Musk oxen look almost prehistoric, don't they? I'd never seen this animal and would love to see one in the wild.

This four month old calf was so cute. She was kept in a separate pen because she was an orphan found in the wild, and would not be accepted by the herd.

This big bull caribou had a large pen to roam in, along with some pals:

Plains bison (buffalo) are found in small numbers in Alaska:

The wood bison is larger than its cousin from the plains, and is very rare throughout its range. One of the primary purposes of the Alaska Wildlife Conservation Center is to provide a breeding herd for this threatened species:

What are the differences between a plains bison and a wood bison? I am glad that you asked!

Would you want to be this close to a grizzly in the wild? Me neither! A big front end loader dropped a big quantity of strawberries and grapes over the fence, and the three resident bears delicately picked them out of the water to eat. They favored the grapes over the berries.

Tram at Alyeska Resort

2010-09-11T20:35:00.000-07:00

September 11 (Anchorage, Alaska). This is the ninth anniversary of that terrible day in our country's history, with so many consequences resulting from it. It is also our last day in Alaska, as we fly home at 11PM tonight on the dreaded, and aptly named, "redeye." We head into Anchorage, and debate what to do. I think if we could have found a good "flight-seeing" tour, Mary would have liked to have done that, which amazed me, given her extreme dislike of flying. I think she enjoyed the trip in and out of McCarthy more that she let on.

Finally, we left the Anchorage Visitor Center (love the sod on the roof!) ....

and decided to drive back along Turnagain Arm on the Seward Highway, stopping at a couple of places. We had done this drive in the rain two weeks ago, and it was gorgeous. Now, we wanted to see it on a "bluebird" day.

Our first stop was at the Alyeska Resort near Girdwood. We paid for a combination tram ride - lunch ticket at the resort and rode the cablecar up 2,000 feet to a spot high on a mountain with great views of Turnagain Arm and the surrounding mountains. The lunch was mediocre, to say the least, but the views were worth the price of admission!

We passed this car as we went up and it went down:

Near and far views of the resort (which looked very nice inside) from the tram:

Spectacular mountains were all around. The mountains here get something like 900 inches of natural snow a year, and are a magnet for skiers.
There was a race that day here with a lot of participants. During 10 hours, the racers run, walk, and crawl to the top along a steep footpath, gaining 2,000 feet elevation each time. Then they take the tram down, and come back up, repeating until the 10 hours is up. They looked pretty tired in the early afternoon when we were there. I think the winner last year made something like 13 trips! Here is one gal as seen from the tram:

Panoramic view from the mountain:

View of Turnagain Arm, ski lift in foreground:

Driving the Glenn Highway, Part 2

2010-09-10T19:59:00.000-07:00

September 10 in Alaska - Glenn Highway continued from part 1.

We continued on towards Palmer, and from there to head south to Anchorage. At every turn, spectacular mountains, glaciers, rivers, and lakes greeted us. As in part 1, I am going to let the photos mostly speak for themselves, although they are inadequate to show how magnificent the scenery was.

These photos are from the Sheep Mountain - Gunsight Mountain area. We found the colors as spectacular as the topography, and took a lot of pictures. We actually did see our last Dall sheep, but it was too far away to get a photo.

Ominous sky, autumn colors:

Further along, at Glacier Park, were great views of the Matanuska Glacier, flowing out of the Chugach Mountains. It forms the Matanuska River, which we followed for some time on its inevitable journey to Knik Arm.

North side of the road around Glacier Park:

Further downstream, the Matanuska River, panorama and close up:

There was a beautiful lake along the highway:

Views near the King Mountain area:

Driving the Glenn Highway, Part 1

2010-09-10T19:47:00.000-07:00

September 10. It is hard to believe that our two weeks in Alaska ends tomorrow, as we leave Kennecott after another great breakfast. Our destination today is Anchorage, where we will spend the night. To that end, we will fly from McCarthy to Chitina, get our car, backtrack to the Richardson Highway, travel back up this highway to Glennallen, then head west along the Glenn Highway towards Palmer. On the way, we stopped back at the visitor center for Wrangell - St. Elias National Park to see the Alaskan Indian exhibition, which was really interesting.

The Richardson Highway turns out to be perhaps the most beautiful stretch of road I have ever driven on. There is a jaw-dropping photo opportunity around every bend. I could have snapped hundreds of photos along the way, but lucky for you, I did not. Even so, I had way too many good ones to display here, and had to pare them down. Despite my best efforts, I still had too many to put in one post, and so have broken the Glenn Highway into two parts. Mostly, I will let the pictures do the talking, even thought they are not adequate to truly portray the magnificent scenery along the way.

I am pretty sure that this is Mt. Wrangell, seen from the Cesna on the flight out of McCarthy:

The Chitina airport, with our little red Toyata Matrix parked and waiting for us:A mighty glacier cuts throught the Chugach Mountains, to the south (left) of the Glenn Highway:

Scenery along the Glenn Highway:

Panoramic view from the eastern part of the Glenn Highway:

The Chugach are an impressive mountain range. Even the "settled" parts of this huge state are so vast!

Kennecott Views

2010-09-09T19:32:00.000-07:00

September 9 (Kennecott, Alaska). It felt good to be warm and dry after that morning’s hike to the glacier. After most of the day had gone by, the rain finally stopped and we spent a couple of hours outside looking at the mill ruins. At long last, the skies partially cleared, and we were able to see some of what we had been missing. Here are a few photos of the afternoon’s views of the rugged and wild terrain; glaciers and mountains. The first photo is the mountain I hiked up the day before to get to the Bonanza Mine, nearly 4,000 feet above where I am now standing.

Hike to Kennecott Glacier

2010-09-09T14:23:00.000-07:00

No hiking for me for a while with my foot still recovering, so I might as well try to finish my Alaska posts in the next few days.

September 9 (Kennecott). As part of our package deal for staying three nights at the lodge, we got a guided tour of the old copper mill and a guided hike half-day hike on Kennecott Glacier.

This morning, it was our last chance to do the glacier hike, so we did, despite a cold and steady rain. Our guide gave us each a pair of crampons for walking on the ice, and showed us how to put them on over our boots, and we stepped out, heading for the glacier two trail miles away. The rain drummed down on us, and we had to step through huge puddles that almost formed ponds across the trail. Very shortly, our boots were soaked, and under our rain gear, our clothes became wet as well from sweat. I finally unzipped my jacket to cool off and got soaked by the rain.

The trail was fairly level at first, but dropped steeply for the last half mile after a difficult stream crossing. The rain beat down on us, and we stepped over a very large, very fresh pile of bear scat. About 200 meters from the glacier, Mary looked back behind us up the trail and told me that this hike was beyond her abilities in these conditions and that she was going back. She felt like if she spent another two hours in crampons climbing all over the glacier, she would not have enough strength to make the hike back.

So I told her to hang on for a sec, and I went ahead and caught up the guide and told him we were turning back. I gave him a tip for leading us this far, and he was very appreciative and offered to take our crampons for us - no argument from me. I stepped onto the rock-covered portion of the glacier so I could at least say I had walked on one for a little bit, then went back to catch up to Mary, who had started hiking out. It would have been cool to continue but I didn't want her hiking out by herself. We got back to the room and took hot showers - every item of clothing we each had was totally soaked through. We spent a relaxing afternoon reading in the lounge, and then when the rain finally stopped, we took a walk to visit some of the mill buildings I had not been able to see because of my hike up to Bonanza Mine. We also finally got to see some of the great scenery the area has to offer later that day, because the clouds partially cleared up.

I only took a few photos during the hike because of the steady rain. Here is part of our little group at a short pit stop break on the way to the glacier.

Here is a view of the glacier from about where we turned back.

I walked on to the rock covered part of the glacier and snapped a photo of an area that was melting.

Kennecott Glacier from a distance along the trail.

Thinking About Grizzly Bears

2010-09-09T11:08:00.000-07:00

September 9 (at Kennecott Glacier, Alaska). Clearly here, as in most of Alaska, we are in bear country – grizzly and black. On two hikes, I have walked by very fresh bear scat, and in one section of my Bonanza Mine hike, the misty breeze was blowing up from a thick shrubby area, and there was this rank smell on the breeze. I pondered whether it was a bear, or perhaps the rotting kill of a bear.

We saw four grizzlies during our wildlife tour of Denali National Park, but that was from a safe bus. I’ve never encountered a grizzly while hiking. As much as I would love to see one from a couple of hundred yards away, it would be terrifying to blunder into one. Compared to a grown grizzly, the strongest man would be like a small poodle against a human if the bear got aggressive. I still remember hiking in the Grand Tetons a few years ago, and coming to a large tree where, right at face level, a bear had ripped off a huge chuck of bark. Try doing that with your finger nails!

For a one on one comparison between man and bear, look at these two photos. The paw print and claw were in the Kennecott Company Store Museum, and are from a Kodiak Island bear. For the record, I don’t have huge hands but neither are they tiny.
I have friends who encountered Timothy Treadwell, the “Grizzly Man,” in Alaska. The plane that they were flying in landed at his camp to pack up his camp and take him out for the winter. They helped gather up all of his gear and pack it in the plane, and my friend said it was pretty scary walking along the bear trails near his camp collecting stuff for Treadwell, if I remember correctly. Based on what I read about Treadwell, I’d have to agree: he was pretty insane about how he tried to interact with these great beasts. And in the end, it cost him and his girlfriend their lives in a most terrible way.

I saw a nature film a few years back where a wildlife photographer single-handedly sailed his boat along the Aleutian Islands and would go on shore to photograph the gigantic bears. He never tried to approach them, unlike Treadwell. He would sit on the beaches with his cameras as the bears moved around and dug clams, often walking within 20 feet of him. He just sat very still. I don’t think I would try that myself, but it shows that bears are not necessarily the man-killing beast that they are portrayed to be. You would think that at least one bear would have thought ‘Hmmm, you know, I’m getting pretty tired of clams. Hey, how about some surf and turf tonight? That would be a tasty break from seafood!” But they didn’t. A polar bear would have killed him in a flash, I am fairly certain. Polar bears are 100% carnivorous, and are the only bear known to actively stalk and hunt humans.

I would guess that most of the time, an encounter with a grizzly in the wild would end up fine, and I would like to have one someday – as I said, from a little distance, not for example, the wounded grizzly at the Russian River! But then I look at the picture of that paw print and that claw, and I begin to question that wish just a bit.

Willow Ptarmigan

2010-09-08T21:38:00.000-07:00

September 8, Kennecott Glacier Area. On my hike up to the Bonanza Mine, I ran across two broods of willow ptarmigan. They were nearly grown, and in both cases, I was allowed to get amazingly close. I could have hit one with a rock, had I been so inclined (I was not), and I am no Cy Young. Even so, given the mist and fog, it was hard to get crisp photos. My guide from St. Elias Mountain Guides was flabbergasted that I was so interested in them, but he sees them all of the time, and it was my first sighting.
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The broods I saw would have been led by the mother, as father grouse don't have a whole lot to do with the kids - although he will defend them against predators. The mom kept clucking to lead her brood away, although they were not in a hurry. I saw the first brood just a little while after seeing very fresh bear scat, loaded with soapberries, so hopefully they stayed alert. I would doubt a bear would be quick enough to catch a ptarmigan, although these guys seemed pretty slow. On the other hand, they had all survived this far.

These birds will turn white in the winter, and you can see that the process is starting. Technically, it was still summer by the the fact that the equinox had not yet arrived, but in reality, it was fall at that time, with winter fast approaching. They are largely vegetarians, but will eat insects when they are available. Here are some photos of this interesting animal.

I think this was the mother:

Three of her brood:

Mom leading her charges in the fog:

These photos were of the second group. They were a little more wary and right on the edge of a steep drop off, and did not come out in the open as much: