June 28, 2008
[Edit: Photos are in!]
My plan was Pachaug trail, which is eight miles and listed as strenuous, but if either of my younger two boys were willing to go, Wickaboxet was my backup plan. As it turned out my oldest came down with a serious illness whose symptoms can only be treated by a playstation paddle. After a lengthy discussion, Colin, my six year old, agreed to go. It was 1:00 pm before we left the house and about a quarter to 2 by the time we got onto the trail.
The Wickaboxet trail is number 23 in Ken Weber's Walks and Rambles in Rhode Island. The Access section says to take RI 102 in West Greenwich to Plain Meeting House Road. My main criticism of this book is the directions. How about take exit 5b on route 95 to RI 102 North? I am adding footnotes to my copy, one hike at a time. Sometime I will take a look at the new edition to see if it's better.
Wickaboxet is a fairly small (679 acre) DEM management area due North of the Arcadia management area and URI's Alton Jones campus. Back in the 1950's it was the site of a tremendous forest fire so there are few fully mature trees. On Plain Meeting House Road we pass Big John Leyden's Tree Farm where we occasionally get our Christmas trees. After parking, we noticed tiny toads (or frogs) hopping around the lot. They were barely a quarter inch long, if even. We had to be very careful not to step on them. The closer we looked, the more we found.
The trails are dirt roads, wide, level, and dry. Despite being unmarked, unlike Durfee hill, they were very easy to follow. We were greeted by dragon flies, some strange iridescent green beetles, and large flies that were dive-bombing our heads. Mosquitoes were not bothering us much.
The beetles, looking something like this, would take flight when we approached, only to land ten or fifteen feet ahead of us on the trail. We couldn't get too close. The flies smacking us on our heads had one set of wings and a horizontally striped abdomen. They were after our salty sweat, I would guess. Both of these little guys were too small for me to photograph.
There was a motorcycle on the trail. We heard him from the onset. When he past us, I pulled my boy to the side. On his way back he asked if I knew were the big climbing rock was. I had never been there before but knew he was referring to Rattlesnake Ledge. I showed him the photo in my book and where approximately it was. He said he hoped he wasn't disturbing us. I said "Not too much" which unintentionally implied that he was a little. I regret saying that. Point of fact, however, his riding did disturb me. The noise and smell was inescapable, and there was a safety concern. Also, motorcycles and ATVs are forbidden on this property. He was polite enough and I'm sure he was unaware of the damage his tires were doing.
Before too long I noticed that the trail is covered in ants. Large, almost carpenter ant sized, half red and half black. They blanket the path, entirely leaving us alone. We come across an enormous ant mound on the left side of the path. I position Colin next to it for a photo. Next he finds his feet swarming with ants. He freaks out and runs down the path. They didn't bite him but gave him quite a fright. [Edit: Allegheny mound ants. Native and mostly harmless.] I told him of my youth summering in Texas. I had a nasty encounter with a family of red fire ants that I shall never forget. He wanted to go home. He started stamping at the ants, but there were millions of them. We were headed in a dead end section of the trail and I decided to simply turn around there and skip that mile of the trail.
We take a left fork towards a mostly uninteresting site of a now-gone fire tower and wholly uninteresting ledges. Colin, recovered from his ant experience, was cheerful but growing weary. We took an extended break at the site of the tower. Refreshed, we pushed on.
There is listed a side trail that leads out to a small brook. I had it in my head that this was a significant flowing stream. Instead I find the smallest trickle, barely large enough to feed moss. We continued on because I was certain this was not the brook Ken wrote about. Also on this section I find some scat. I did not photograph it because my camera batteries were dead at this point. I didn't think to use my cell phone camera. I think it was bear. It was very fresh. [Edit: Not bear. Not even close. No idea what it was, but not bear!]
Back on the main path we look for Rattlesnake Ledge. We find the path and see an outcropping of granite peppered with graffiti. We try climbing the front but find it impossible. We circle around the side and climb. The view, extending miles into the distance, was quite impressive. Mount Tom trail has a similar overlook, but I think this might beat it. Something truly to behold.
My erstwhile exhausted companion now decides that we are going to climb down so that we can climb up again. I indulge him, but I'm growing tired now. Back on top, we walk the ledge to the other side. It is much longer than I expected. We find the section where teenagers like to smash their beer bottles and leave greenish puddles. Charming. Here, the walk down to Terra Firma is quite easy. Noticing tread marks, I see my motorcycle buddy found his rock.
Soon we are back at the car. Colin could not stop talking about the ledge. He wanted to go again Sunday. He wanted to call Mom and tell her all about it. We stop for ice cream.
[Edit: Photos are in!]
My plan was Pachaug trail, which is eight miles and listed as strenuous, but if either of my younger two boys were willing to go, Wickaboxet was my backup plan. As it turned out my oldest came down with a serious illness whose symptoms can only be treated by a playstation paddle. After a lengthy discussion, Colin, my six year old, agreed to go. It was 1:00 pm before we left the house and about a quarter to 2 by the time we got onto the trail.
The Wickaboxet trail is number 23 in Ken Weber's Walks and Rambles in Rhode Island. The Access section says to take RI 102 in West Greenwich to Plain Meeting House Road. My main criticism of this book is the directions. How about take exit 5b on route 95 to RI 102 North? I am adding footnotes to my copy, one hike at a time. Sometime I will take a look at the new edition to see if it's better.Wickaboxet is a fairly small (679 acre) DEM management area due North of the Arcadia management area and URI's Alton Jones campus. Back in the 1950's it was the site of a tremendous forest fire so there are few fully mature trees. On Plain Meeting House Road we pass Big John Leyden's Tree Farm where we occasionally get our Christmas trees. After parking, we noticed tiny toads (or frogs) hopping around the lot. They were barely a quarter inch long, if even. We had to be very careful not to step on them. The closer we looked, the more we found.
The trails are dirt roads, wide, level, and dry. Despite being unmarked, unlike Durfee hill, they were very easy to follow. We were greeted by dragon flies, some strange iridescent green beetles, and large flies that were dive-bombing our heads. Mosquitoes were not bothering us much.The beetles, looking something like this, would take flight when we approached, only to land ten or fifteen feet ahead of us on the trail. We couldn't get too close. The flies smacking us on our heads had one set of wings and a horizontally striped abdomen. They were after our salty sweat, I would guess. Both of these little guys were too small for me to photograph.
There was a motorcycle on the trail. We heard him from the onset. When he past us, I pulled my boy to the side. On his way back he asked if I knew were the big climbing rock was. I had never been there before but knew he was referring to Rattlesnake Ledge. I showed him the photo in my book and where approximately it was. He said he hoped he wasn't disturbing us. I said "Not too much" which unintentionally implied that he was a little. I regret saying that. Point of fact, however, his riding did disturb me. The noise and smell was inescapable, and there was a safety concern. Also, motorcycles and ATVs are forbidden on this property. He was polite enough and I'm sure he was unaware of the damage his tires were doing.
Before too long I noticed that the trail is covered in ants. Large, almost carpenter ant sized, half red and half black. They blanket the path, entirely leaving us alone. We come across an enormous ant mound on the left side of the path. I position Colin next to it for a photo. Next he finds his feet swarming with ants. He freaks out and runs down the path. They didn't bite him but gave him quite a fright. [Edit: Allegheny mound ants. Native and mostly harmless.] I told him of my youth summering in Texas. I had a nasty encounter with a family of red fire ants that I shall never forget. He wanted to go home. He started stamping at the ants, but there were millions of them. We were headed in a dead end section of the trail and I decided to simply turn around there and skip that mile of the trail.
We take a left fork towards a mostly uninteresting site of a now-gone fire tower and wholly uninteresting ledges. Colin, recovered from his ant experience, was cheerful but growing weary. We took an extended break at the site of the tower. Refreshed, we pushed on.There is listed a side trail that leads out to a small brook. I had it in my head that this was a significant flowing stream. Instead I find the smallest trickle, barely large enough to feed moss. We continued on because I was certain this was not the brook Ken wrote about. Also on this section I find some scat. I did not photograph it because my camera batteries were dead at this point. I didn't think to use my cell phone camera. I think it was bear. It was very fresh. [Edit: Not bear. Not even close. No idea what it was, but not bear!]
Back on the main path we look for Rattlesnake Ledge. We find the path and see an outcropping of granite peppered with graffiti. We try climbing the front but find it impossible. We circle around the side and climb. The view, extending miles into the distance, was quite impressive. Mount Tom trail has a similar overlook, but I think this might beat it. Something truly to behold.My erstwhile exhausted companion now decides that we are going to climb down so that we can climb up again. I indulge him, but I'm growing tired now. Back on top, we walk the ledge to the other side. It is much longer than I expected. We find the section where teenagers like to smash their beer bottles and leave greenish puddles. Charming. Here, the walk down to Terra Firma is quite easy. Noticing tread marks, I see my motorcycle buddy found his rock.
Soon we are back at the car. Colin could not stop talking about the ledge. He wanted to go again Sunday. He wanted to call Mom and tell her all about it. We stop for ice cream.