Great Swamp, South Kingstown

April 20, 2008

Several years ago a co-worker recommended Ken Weber's Walks and Rambles in Rhode Island. My oldest son was having some difficulty dealing with the fact that he was no longer an only child. This was a good (and cheap) way for us to bond. We did many of the Arcadia hikes plus some other ones over the next several years. That five year old boy recently turned twelve and I took him, his youngest brother (six) and met up with my brother-in-law, his wife, and their two young children. My middle boy and his mom had playstation paddles stuck to their hands, so they stayed behind.

Because we all had other things going on earlier in the day, we got a late start. It was after 3:00 when we finally reached the parking lot. My sister-in-law pulls out an umbrella stroller for her infant son. I didn't consider the logistics of bringing an infant. Luckily I chose one of the few trails one can bring a stroller on. We follow the trail as the book suggests.

I had not re-read the trail description prior to the hike. Bad habit. I tried to get my oldest to read it on the car ride, but he wasn't motivated. The holly was the first thing we noticed at the start of the trail. Most people think of holly as a fairly low growing shrub. Here you will find trees, upwards to thirty feet tall. I remember seeing a giant holly tree at the Scout campground Aquapaug, not far from where we were. Next time I'm there I will make a point to estimate it's height.

Half way to Worden pond I tell the boys of the hangar. My oldest has no memory of our first hike. They were excited. The twelve year old asks me what it looks like exactly. Was it sloped on both sides? Yes, I said, with a hook on the top. He looks at me blankly. I drew a picture for him in the dirt. He didn't get it, but my youngest did. We continue on.

When we get to Worden pond, I discover that the hangar is no longer there. I'm fairly sure it was there seven years ago. All that remains is a concrete platform. We linger there before continuing on our way.

We reach the fields described in the book. I came to an intersection and two people on bicycles came by. I ask which way to the marsh and they said something and pointed in the way they were heading (right). It wasn't too long before I figure out that we had made a wrong turn (a hallmark of my hikes). It is getting late so we just pressed on. Soon the younger members of the party will grow tired. No wildlife marsh, no osprey nests. Next time, I promise.

The last leg is rather uneventful. We see dog and horse tracks, horse poop, plus what I'm fairly sure it coyote scat. My sister-in-law guessed it was cat poop, but I show her the illustration from Scat and Tracks of the Northeast and she agrees with me. Cat may have been involved, but merely as an ingredient.

It is just past 6 and we had hiked maybe five miles. The biting insects are not out yet, the weather was great, and the sun was still strong in the sky. Despite not seeing the marsh, it was a good hike. I'm looking forward to my next.

Narragansett, near Bonnet Shores

April 21, 2008
I enter the woods across from an old church on South Ferry Road. I've got about half an hour. There is a barred dirt road near an historical cemetery marked Narragansett 10. I've walked in these woods several times so I know there is a path behind the cemetery that cuts though the woods and meets back up with the access road. I've followed it into the woods before but today I choose to go in the opposite direction.
This path takes me near the URI campus where construction is going on. I regret the choice. The noise is unpleasant but it's the smell of diesel fumes that bothers me most. I continue on and soon put distance between me and the clamor. I arrive back at the dirt access road where it ends. There is a newly paved road that connects URI with an industrial park. I cross and continue into the woods.
A small group of crows seem startled by my sudden appearance and fly off. They are huge. I wonder if they really were concerned about the arrival of a clumsy, earth-bound primate, or if I simply coincided with their need to be someplace else. I don't claim to know much about crow behavior.
Continuing on I get closer to Bonnet Shores. The trail swoops to the East and meets up with URI again, but I don't follow it that far. I'm running short of time so I turn around.
I began walking in these woods back in February, and have yet to see it during the growing season. Canada Mayflower sprouts everywhere, and princess pines poking through the leaf litter. A shrub I can't identify has started to put leaves out as well. Green is returning and that makes me feel good.
I pause at a point where high school kids apparently gather. There is debris and what looks like an improvised fire pit. Not a good idea. There is a lot of fuel on the ground. A careless fire and a dry August could spell disaster.
I take the dirt access road back to South Ferry rather than walk close to the construction again. I cross and walk behind the old church. There is a path there that takes me past another cemetery, numbered 11. There I see a young college student, a man. He is standing inside the cemetery, behind a rock wall, with his shirt off. I assume he is resting after exercise or getting some sun.
He takes no notice of me as I walk closer. Soon I realize ... he is not alone. I cannot see anyone, but I deduce there is a young woman, behind the stone wall and in a position I cannot imagine. I can hear her. I turn my head away in discretion, but I stick to my path which comes within six feet of them. Soon I am back at work and my hike is done.
My lunchtime goal is to get away for a brief moment, but that is a tall order. The woods I walk aren't very remote or dense enough to offer a sense of true solitude. Signs of Man's Encroachment come in many forms. Today I discover a new one.