Rhode Hikes

Escoheag Trail, Arcadia

2011-11-27T14:02:00.003-05:00

Saturday, June 25, 2011

Rule 1 of Leave No Trace: Plan Ahead and Prepare.

This rule is first for a variety of reasons. It highlights the intersection between protecting the environment and protecting yourself. Most people who get into trouble in the wilds do so because they do not plan ahead. A hiker in trouble does not concern themself with low impact camping. If there is anything I can impart on my young scouts, it is the importance of this rule.

I've faulted myself on occasion for being too prepared. I've gone on a two mile day hike with a medical kit, extra food, clothing, and water, flashlight, and gotten weird glances from fellow hikers carrying a half liter of water and a banana. So why do I bring this up? On a well planned cub scout hike, I forgot the book. Weekend Walks in Rhode Island somehow never made it back into my pack or the car.

Using my crappy work-issued blackberry, I manged to find direction to the trail head and took extra time to locate it. Once there, of course, I didn't have a trail map. We did things by committee. "Which way do you want to go?" Three cub scouts, two other parents, two siblings, and I made our way through the woods for a couple hours.

Due to my bad planning, we missed many of the highlights of the trail, most notably the Steppingstone falls, my favorite Arcadia feature. I can't help but see my misstep as a knock on my outdoors trail cred, but still, the boys, and the siblings (teenage girls) enjoyed themselves. I did better the next time. And I may add a photo or two once I find my camera's data cable.

How do you pronounce "Escoheag", anyhow?

North South Trail, Roaring Brook Pond to Hazard Road

2011-08-07T17:19:00.005-04:00

This blog has been neglected. I've been doing my share of hiking, just not posting about it. I intend on remedying that.

Saturday, April 9, 2011

That's right. April 9. And again, because unrelated youths are involved, only one photo.

Nine scouts started at beautiful Roaring Brook Pond in the southern section of Arcadia. This time five brand new boy scouts were along for their first big hike. That is huge for me because they were graduates of my Webelos den. I knew the boys well and expected this eight miler to be a challenge they would rise to.

We didn't start off too well as we began at the smaller pond near Browning Mill and ended up hiking on the road for the first mile or so. My fault. From there we followed more roads in rural neighborhoods until we crossed Ten Rod Road (Route 165), touching woods only occasionally. We continued until our halfway point, Old Barber Farm. Here we finally entered the forest proper.

Soon we approached the highlight of the Ben Utter trail: Stepstone Falls. Here we passed more hikers, one a cub scout parent I knew. We took a break on the rocks and had a light snack, before continuing our journey. We had a little over a mile left to go.

The last mile is frequently the most dangerous. You are the most exhausted and one tends to become careless. On a wide forest road, one of my new recruits failed to see a basketball sized rock. He kicked it within sight of the car. We enlisted our older scouts to practice the buddy carry to bring him in. The end result was no serious damage to the foot, and we need more practice with the buddy carry.

Despite this, my former cubbies did me proud. They learned a lot (one carried way too much in his pack) and will be better prepared for the next one.

The single biggest issue of the hike was logistics. After dropping off several scouts at the beginning, I trusted Google Maps to navigate me to the end to drop off a car. The path we followed added almost an hour to both the start and the end of the day. After the hike I realized we could have simply followed Hazard Road south to Ten Rod Road and cut the delay in half. Google Maps doesn't usually fail me, but when it does, watch out. Next time, I'll do a little but more preparation.

Next time will be another eight miler between Hazard Road and Place Farm on Plainfield Pike. As this leg is almost all road, I suppose the rout to and fro should be rather obvious. Still, I will do more to be prepared.

Powder Mill Ledges, Smithfield

2011-01-23T20:29:00.002-05:00

Sunday, January 9

On a clear and snow-filled day, I took 15 cub scouts and siblings, along with 9 or so parents to the Audubon Society's Powder Mill Ledges wildlife refuge for our annual winter hike. I gave them my brief Leave No Trace lecture as well as spoke about the importance of the buddy system. The property is cut in two by power lines and because of some National Grid construction going on, the second half (the yellow trail) was off limits.

We saw signs of animal life including animal prints, woodpecker holes, and a few birds. Afterwards, there was hot chocolate. I believe the children really enjoyed themselves.

We took many photos but I've decided not to include them here for privacy sake. I'll get parental approval to use photos to promote the Pack in the local media, but not for this blog. It's been a while since my last post because it's been a while since my last hike. And with the recent and predicted snow fall, it may be quite a while until my next.

Mount Washington, New Hampshire

2010-08-31T22:52:00.019-04:00

The big one.

Every year I try to do a "big hike". One that requires me to actually train. I'm in fair shape for a 43 year old computer jockey, but the rock pile requires a bit more.

My buddy Lou and I hiked Moosilauke last summer and he wanted to try the hardest trail on the toughest mountain in New England. That would be Huntington Ravine on Mount Washington. I had been up Huntington before so I knew what to expect. Lou hadn't and I did my best to warn him.

A little history: Back in 2003 my brother-in-law Mikey and I hiked Monadnock. It was tough but we wanted to try something bigger. Using the same thought process as Lou, I suppose, we tried Washington via Tuckerman. I wasn't prepared. I wrote about it and maybe I'll post what I wrote for history's sake.

We skipped 2004 then tried Huntington in 2005 with Mikey and another brother-in-law. We learned that he had a crippling fear of heights and we had to come back down. In 2006 Mikey and I did Katahdin. Twelve hours on the trail, 7 am to 7 pm. It was that hike that convinced me to always carry a flashlight. In 2007 Mikey, a co-worker Chuck, and I climbed Washington via Huntington. We took the bus down. 2008 was Franconia Ridge, Little Haystack to Lincoln to Lafayette. Mikey and my oldest son went on that one. That brings us to 2009 and Moosilauke, which you can read about if you are so inclined. The sneakers that nearly cost me my life that day were since trashed and I had considered getting serious hikers for Washington. I didn't end up doing that.

I did some treadmill, but as I've pointed out before, an hour on a treadmill ain't five minutes on the hill. So I also did weights. Squats, specifically. Lots of them. I lost maybe ten pounds, which was less than I wanted to. I was as prepared as I was going to get.

It was just Lou and I this trip. Mikey couldn't get off from work. We camped at Dolly Copp and made the trail around 9:30. Much later than I wanted to. I woke with a charlie horse. I get them maybe twice a year, and today was that day. Another injury also had me concerned. Back in May I was at a child's birthday party at a roller skating place. The last time I put on skates was 25 years earlier, maybe to the day, who knows. I was my post-prom at the very same rink. This day, on my last lap, I fell backwards and sprained my right wrist. At post time it still hurts. How would it react to climbing at the headwall?

Pinkham Notch was busy. Very busy. First of all, it was the high season for through hikers, but added to that was the fact that there were two benefits going on. Alzheimer's and something else, I forgot. A lot of non-hikers were on the trail and I was glad to occasionally chat with them.

As expected, we turned off onto Huntington just below the tree line and the crowds disappeared. I tripped and landed on a moss covered log. Lou didn't think anything of it, and neither would I, normally. But I had put pressure on my wrist, and it hurt. A lot. We saw only a couple people before we reached the treeline. Once the trees were gone people were easier to spot. The climb by the fan was tough and I was looking forward to reaching the headwall. Chatting with others, a woman looked at me surprised and said "this isn't the head wall?" "Um, no" I said.

The headwall is one hell of a sight. Last time it scared the bejesus out of me and was where we had to turn around. I felt good but wondered about my wrist. And my sneakers. Well, at least my charlie horse wasn't bothering me much. The woman I spoke with and her friend were ahead of us. They spent some time looking and feeling and thinking and I was happy for the brief breather. In the end they chose to turn around.

I put my hands on the rock face. I felt strangely confidant. Maybe because I had been there before or maybe because my legs, thanks to the squats, were in much better shape. At any rate, we went up. And it was fun.

Above the headwall is a moonscape. Very little vegetation grows this high. We followed the cairns along a hard to see rock path. Relentless, just as I expected. Lou hadn't anticipated how relentless and grew tired of the monotony. We got close to the auto road and he wanted to follow it. I didn't. I hate road walking and was up for the challenge, but we followed it. He was exhausted and the road allowed us to double our pace. Soon the summit building came into view.

Point to point, it was five and a half hours to the top. We stayed there for an hour and a half resting and gorging ourselves. The food item we both declared the most wonderful, most spectacular to partake in: Coca-Cola. I can't explain it. It was glorious.

I didn't want to bus down again so I let Lou get as much rest as we could afford and we took the easiest path down. Of course there is no easy path down, but we got back to Pinkham Notch well before sunset. Back at camp we built a fire and made food, even though we weren't very hungry. In the morning we stopped at Pinkham Notch and had the coldest showers of our lives.

Lou did great. Much better than I in my first two attempts. It seems my wrist wasn't a problem. I can pull weight with it without problem, I just can't flex it backwards. And I really owe Mike at the YMCA a debt of gratitude for putting me on the leg squats routine. It made all the difference.

I want to go again.

Take a look at this guy's video. We met him on the hill that day.

John B. Hudson Trail, Arcadia

2010-08-02T21:40:00.005-04:00

July 24, 2010

Only a couple photos this time. I didn't ask for permission again. Seven cub scouts and two boy scouts joined five parents for a walk on the John B. Hudson trail in Arcadia. It's only three miles and the weather was fine. A little hot, but cooler in the damp forest.

The trail is well marked and an easy stroll for little ones and urbanite moms alike. It passes by a historical graveyard (town of Exeter 101) where the boys took a brief break. The trail loops near the end and passes by Breakheart Pond.

We dallied by the pond. The boys appeared to be having a great time. The path back towards the graveyard was muddy much to the delight of the boys. A couple of the moms weren't quite as pleased. It dried up soon enough and we were back on the same trail that took us out. If you read my blog, you know how important I feel it is to get kids into the outdoors. A simple thing like a 45 minute drive, a 1 1/2 hour walk, and a light snack can do wonders. And we got a few scout requirements out of the way.

Pachaug State Forest, Voluntown, Connecticut

2010-07-23T20:40:00.004-04:00

July 9, 2010

With two hikes in my immediate future, one my Big one, I had better catch up with my walks.

I volunteer with my son's boy scout troop at summer camp each year. My now ex-coworker Lou and I got together on Friday to do a hike near both of us. He works over the line in Connecticut, and we had talked about doing some backpacking, so we chose Pachaug State Forest, which has a couple lean-to's we might wish to stay at in the future. This hike provided us a look-see. Yet again, no photos.

We met at the corner of routes 138 and 201, parked, and entered the woods. Normally I would follow along using my map, but my awesome Great Swamp Press map appears to be missing. Maybe it ended up with my scout gear, maybe Lou ended up with it. I'd hate to lose it. They are rather pricey.

We followed Pachaug Trail (I think half the trails in the forest are called Pachaug) until we got to the lean-to. Needed a sweeping, but in rather good shape. The area around it looked well used by hippy hiker and destructive teen alike. Next we doubled-back to take a look at mount Misery. At an astounding 441 feet above sea level, Misery provided for a significant climb. We got to the top and met up with a young family enjoying the view.

The bugs were fierce. I don't normally wear bug spray, but this day was the exception. We would wave our hands above our heads and knock away several deer flies that would return about a minute later. I've never been bitten by a deer fly but I understand they can be almost as painful as horse flies. Camp Yawgoog has lots of horse flies. My floppy brim hat kept them and the sun at bay.

We continued North because Lou wanted to see a location he had been to in his youth. The name escapes me. We got about half way there when Lou's curfew grew short. We doubled back to the start. I tried to entice him in getting a beer together, but his wife and child needed him home. We parted ways and I found a nice place that served cold beer and a better than average pub burger, by young ladies in tight t-shirts. I got back to camp to find out I missed meatloaf night.

Ben Utter Trail, Arcadia

2010-07-17T23:54:00.004-04:00

Some work day back in June.

My wife and boys arrived at my work with the idea of doing a hike. For once, it wasn't my idea. Her favorite was one of her first. The Ben Utter trail in Arcadia. I navigated a path from Narragansett to route 165. I dropped my car off in the church parking lot and transferred to her van. We took unpaved Frosty Hallow trail to Plain Road.

I learned when I did the Shelter trail a few weeks earlier that Plain road was barred a fair ways from our trail head. I also learned that Plain road was in unusually bad shape. My wife is not in the habit of slowing down on bad roads. We stopped where Plain road did and was preparing to walk the rest of the way, when a lady in an SUV drove around the barrier. We decided to follow. Plain road got worse and had to slow a little. We found the trail head parked next to the SUV.

The camera stayed home so no pictures yet again. We followed the trail as usual and I took the opportunity to do some scout requirements for my ten year old. We hiked to stepping stone falls, had a snack, then went by the abandoned shelter on our way back. It felt good to be in the woods.

W made it back in reasonable time and drove home. The transmission work only cost me $100, so I count myself as lucky.

North South Trail, Kenyon Hill to Roaring Brook Pond

2010-06-26T21:38:00.003-04:00

Saturday, May 22nd

Maybe my interest in blogging is waning. All blogs have a life expectancy. Maybe I am seeing the end. My interest in hiking, however, has not. With my son's Boy Scout troop, we hiked 8.7 miles.

First, there are no pictures. I didn't take many, but none are included because when I asked if anybody objected to having photos posted on the internet, a couple scouts said yes. I don't know if they were serious, but then again, I didn't ask. We picked up where we left off, on Kenyon Hill Road.

Five scouts, the Scoutmaster, and I entered the forest and walked until it turned into a well groomed community. We followed streets until we reached route 138. We turned right towards the Richmond Elementary School. There was a farmers market going on, but it was across the street. The boys decided not to investigate. We turned left onto Nooseneck Hill Road, where we saw and smelled cows.

We turned left onto Buttonwoods Road. A little ways up we turned North into the woods again. Soon we stopped for lunch. The trail connects with the "New London Turnpike", which an ATV would be hard pressed to traverse in comfort. Along the way we crossed a makeshift living room, complete with couch, rug, and lamp. We joked that this is were we should have lunched, but clearly few would want to touch the junk.

A little bit more road work, then we were back into the woods. We crossed under route 95. We followed the trail until it turned onto Tuft Hill Trail, a dirt road off of which I parked. The boys and Scoutmaster chose to walk the boardwalk around Roaring Brook Pond to the paved road. I brought the van around.

There was a lot of street walking, but it was fine. Much of it was very pretty. The weather cooperated and we managed to get through the tenderfoot material for our youngest scout.

Shelter Trail, Arcadia

2010-05-27T18:01:00.002-04:00

Saturday, May 15

A little late getting around to posting, huh?

I was supposed to assist with DEM and AMC volunteers for a maintenance project on the Ben Utter trail in Arcadia. I got a late start. A very late start. I figured I would just find them on the trail. I was wrong.

The forest path that is called Austin Farm Road is now blocked before you reach the Ben Utter trail head. Had I remembered my Arcadia map from Great Swamp Press, I might have figured that out. I didn't have any cell phone numbers, so after an hour of pointless driving around, I stopped at the Shelter trail and started walking.

After a short walk, maybe a half mile, I ended at a river (Flat River, I learned). I saw a side path a short walk back, so I took it. Come to find out, the walk to the river is the side trail and I was back on Shelter trail proper. I followed until it reached some, well, shelters. Mostly dissolved at this point. I continued on.

I passed Penny Cut off but stayed on Shelter. I came to a spot that was quite beautiful. I took some pictures. Continuing on, I apparently merged onto Breakheart trail. I heard people ahead and wondered if it was the camp. Camp E-Hun-Tee is for kids in bad situations, I understand. I know very little about it, except that it's off limits. Soon, I came upon some boys near some makeshift shelters. From a distance I asked if this was the camp. One said it was. I said I should turn around, then. They agreed. I didn't think I was close to the camp at all and wondered why there were no signs warning me. Soon I passed a tree with a sign about twenty feet up it. Knowing where I was and knowing the situation, I figured out that it was a warning that the camp was off limits. Otherwise, I would have had no idea. They need a new sign, and they need to hang it lower.

I followed the trail back, stopping off at a concrete foundation to take care of some feet problems. My old hikers were tearing my feet up fairly bad. I popped on a couple bandages and continued on. I got back to the car and headed home.

The volunteer group worked a different section of the trail, I learned. They ask me to volunteer about three times a year, and I've only managed to participate once.

Walkabout Trail

2010-04-01T17:39:00.018-04:00

Sunday, March 21

It seems that I have even less time to blog about my hikes, than I do to take them. As I mentioned in my last post, I was hosting a visitor from New Mexico who wanted to hike Rhode Island's high point. Afterwards we went on a real hike.

Walkabout trail was named by Australian sailors who walked the trail while their ship was in dry dock in Newport. That's what I would have done. George Washington Management Area includes the George Washington Camping Area. I had never visited this property before.

There had been a bit of rain before this hike. Nothing like what we'd soon get, but enough to be concerned. I didn't think we'd have too much trouble. I wasn't exactly correct.

The trail included a bit of blowdown, some muddy areas, and a nice view of the pond. Healthy hemlocks were in evidence. From the Weber book I knew there was beaver in the area so I kept an eye out. We found a lot of tree damage and what was probably a small den. We didn't see or hear any animals.

I thought when the trail left the ponds it would dry out. Not measurably, as it turns out. We came to a point where the train appeared to end in a swamp. After closer inspection, I saw that the trail ran clockwise around it.

Wetness continued, but the little ones perservered like chamions. In fact it may have been me that was most troubled by the water, and I was in hikers.

We crossed more puddles and small streams.

Finally, the end was in view.

Not a moment too soon, as the sun was going down. The campground wasn't open yet. I'm sure it's a beautiful place to camp, but I appreciated the quite during the last few weeks of the off season.

Jerimoth Hill

2010-03-27T17:28:00.008-04:00

Sunday, March 21

The 17 year old son of a cousin of my mother-in-law was visiting from New Mexico. One of the things he wanted to do during his first visit to Rhode Island was to climb it's highest peak, 812 feet above sea level. I had done the arduous climb up Mount Jerimoth before, so I prepared him for the grueling journey. The drive, that is. We went with my youngest son, my brother-in-law, and his daughter.

Jerimoth Hill has an interesting history. Brown University owns the peak, but the most direct path from route 101 had no public access. The man who owned the land did not allow access, even to the point of threatening violence on trespassers. Eventually, he relented and allowed hikers on certain holidays. He has since passed, and new owners allow access all year from 8:00 am to 4:00 pm.

Brown has an observatory in a clearing near the peak, so clearly there is another path. There are stories of people bushwhacking through bogs to visit the peak. It would seem to me that a public land trail could have been constructed a long time ago to avoid this controversy. The trail as it stands is a mere 200 yards from the highway. I'm very thankful that the land owners have made this path available, but much of the story seems pointless. Having been on this path before, I knew what to expect. I cautioned my visitor not to be disappointed.

The further West you go and away from the ocean, the higher the land is in Rhode Island. Here, on the faintest of hills, is what passes for a high point. On the walk from Route 101 you cannot perceive an incline. If you continue the eight tenths of a mile west into Connecticut, I'm sure you'll have trouble finding land lower than 812.

This hike in the past, we walked back to the car. There are a couple nearby walks in my Walks and Rambles book. Durfee Hill is closest, but I had been there and was fairly unimpressed. Besides, the recent rains made that one even less desirable. I took the group to the Walkabout Trail in the George Washington Management Area, but more about that later.

Fisherville Brook, Exeter

2010-01-17T11:44:00.002-05:00

Sunday, January 10

Fisherville Brook was clearly my most hiked property in 2009. It's beautiful, convenient, and accessible. When I first walked it in May I knew it would make a great Cub Scout hike. And it did.

Every year we do a January hike, and every January there is a boy who thinks a spring jacket and tennis sneakers are appropriate winter hiking attire. Last year it was a fifteen year old sibling. I have a warning in the flier, but this year I decided to emphasize the point. The high temperature was expected to be 27 and I cautioned the parents to make sure they were prepared. They responded in droves. By not attending.

Five boys, my three and two others, hiked the Blue and Orange loop on the south side of the property. The weather was crisp, clear, and cold, but luckily there was little wind. The snow was not too fresh so animal prints were not as clear as they were last January, but the going wasn't as tough either. There was some complaining, but no real problems. The scouts that attended were prepared and everyone enjoyed themselves.

I made a ton of hot chocolate because I didn't know how many to expect. Suffice to say, we had a ton left over. Shortly after returning to our car, some people with small children exited the trail. One boy came up to us and asked for hot chocolate. He told him to ask his parents, who said no. I approached them and said how we had way more than we could use and offered hot chocolate to everyone. Happily they took us up on it.

These winter hikes teach some important lessons. First, it give a child practice in preparing for the weather. A Boy Scout is told he must "Be Prepared", but before that can happen, he needs practice. Also, all of us are tempted to spend the winter indoors, sheltered from the world. There is no need for this. Winter blues effects many of us, myself included. An excursion like this allows us to engage winter, and not fear it. And getting children into the outdoors is so very important. It's very disheartening that so many chose to stay indoors.

DuVal trail, South Kingstown

2009-11-22T12:03:00.018-05:00

Friday, November 20th

My sister celebrated one year of sobriety and asked if I would attend a 5:00 party in her honor. I get out of work at 2:30 so I skipped Karate and picked up some party goods. She lives just over the line in Pawcatuck, CT. Along the way there are a couple South Kingstown Land Trust properties just off of Route 1. I had planned possible visits of these properties back before my Friday schedule was juggled on me.

Somewhere jammed in the back seat of my car I had a trail map for the DuVal Trail, which crosses SKLT and DEM property. 2.4 miles is manageable enough. Neither too long or short for my purpose. I didn't spend much time looking at the map prior to setting off.

There is parking in front of a historic cemetery. I assumed the path to the left was the start of the trail. I wound through the cemetery and passed out the back. Sometimes when hiking my thoughts turn to the macabre. What if I happen upon a crime in progress? At that moment, a giant dog with a kerchief around it's neck appeared running right at me. Quickly behind it was a woman jogging. She called the dog off, who clearly had no bad intent. My heart was beating fast. I asked if this was the DuVal trail. She didn't know but said it was the blue blazed trail that heads towards Gravelly Hill Road. Well, what do you know. Blue Blazes. I thought for a moment. She came from the left. I wonder where that trail lead. As she ran off, I took her picture. I wonder why she isn't in it.

The weather was perfect for a hike, and while the sun was low in the sky, I didn't pay it much mind. The trail was more than clear. I dallied. Made a phone call that could have waited. The path split. Clearly I was to take the left, but I wanted to see where the right lead to. I walked that for a bit when I decided to double back. Taking the left fork, I found that it went around a stand of mountain laurel and followed the exact same path. I continued to walk without incident.

The path crosses Gravelly Hill Road at the 0.7 mile mark, then continues for 1.7 miles to Red House Road. It was about that moment that I realized that I had to double back. This isn't a 2.4 mile trail. It's a 4.8 mile hike. I wasn't carrying a flashlight. My hiking stuff was long been removed from my car. I wasn't concerned, though. The sky was bright and clear, the trail well marked, and the weather was wonderful. Hey, and I had a cell phone with Google Maps on it.

Not long past Gravelly Road is a scenic overlook where you can see the ocean. I wish I took a picture here. The path wound around and from time to time I would see a gorgeous house off in the distance. The sun grew lower in the sky.

There were several places where the trail was diverted. The land trust made it very clear what was expected of you. I did my best to follow their directions. I came across a forest road, wide and flat enough to drive a car. The path follows it briefly.

Occasionally I would pass through a maintain laurel grove. I saw where a horse has passed through. I came to a split where the way to go wasn't clear. I took the right path. I noticed the path had six inch tall plants indicating this was a little used trail. Despite this, I continued.

Eventually I did turn back and take the other path. I thought about the seedlings on the path and thought the information may be useful. The sun was below the trees, but I wasn't going to turn around. Red House Road might be just ahead.

More than several minutes later, I finally come upon the end. It was about a quarter past 4. What time did I start? A quarter past 3? I neglected to check. If it took me an hour to get here, I should make it back in 45 minutes. No exploring side paths, no dalling. I walk quickly towards the setting sun.

The sun has dropped below the horizon but the sky was still bright. 4:30 I realize, man I'm tired and hungry. The sky grows slowly darker. I notice that the sliver of a moon was very sharp. It took a moment for me to realize what that meant. Not uncomfortable now, but the clear sky meant it would grow colder. The almost new moon meant there would be little moonlight.

I increased my pace. I passed by familiar landmarks. Wrong turn, horse poop, mountain laurel grove, forest road, dead raising from the grave to feast on the living. No, wait. That's just a weird stump. Funny how I hadn't noticed it before.

Darker still. I occasionally break out into a light jog. I kick a root or rock and slow my pace again. The blue blazes were all but invisible now, but the leaves, trampled flat by foot traffic, almost glowed. The clearness of the path renewed my confidence. But soon I'd enter a section where the canopy is thicker and the path disappeared. I remember how my son would use his tracfone as a lantern. No chance of that for me. I have a Blackberry. The batteries suck down faster than warm ice cream on a hot day. Oh, the batteries. They're low.

I pick a direction that proves correct. Shortly I realize I haven't even reached Gravelly Hill Road yet. The sky is darker and I noticed that when I take a picture the flash is needed. I start thinking about the possibility of staying the night. I have a pocket knife. My clothes are somewhat warm. I could improvise a shelter. Nothing to start a fire with, however. I did see several rich people's houses. Would I find one and knock on the door? I doubt it.

I jog, hit a rock, go back to walking fast, and concentrate on keeping sight of the trail. I think back to the lady I came across. I entered the path at a 90 degree angle. Would I be able to find the turn in the dark? I come across the overlook where you can see the ocean. I take a picture, not that it mattered much.

Reaching Gravelly Hill Road was a relief. There is the occasional car, and I saw a man walking his dog. I'm not as far from civilization as it sometimes seems. I follow the road for a couple hundred feet and turn back into the forest.

It's almost 5 now and darker still. I enter another dark spot and lose the trail. I pause, looking around. Again, I choose a direction without knowing why. Again, I chose the right path. I believe that many people who die in the wilderness must at some point think to themselves "I'm such a stupid moron." I come to a point where the trail continues, but I find the turn I am certain goes back to the graveyard. I guess where on the map I must be. There is something labeled ahead called the Polly Matzinger Memorial. Maybe this is for the Playboy bunny/fearless scientist. I'm guessing no because memorials aren't usually made for the living. I wonder if I can find it. I count my paces and head off past my turn. I think to myself "I'm such a stupid moron".

52 steps later, I decide I cannot find it, and turn around. 52 steps later I find my turn. Maybe I've learned something. I expect to arrive at the back of the cemetery. I don't. Instead I am on Old Post Road. I turn left and quickly find my car. It's ten past 5 and completely dark. I guzzle a strange flavored SoBe drink and open a bag of chips. I congratulate my sister at 5:30.

Cub World, Pascoag

2009-11-08T23:16:00.003-05:00

Saturday, November 7th

It's been a while. Back in the spring my schedule changed so that I got out of work at 2:30 and had until 5:30 to walk a natural place. Well, my Karate was rescheduled to 6:30 and my son's was moved to 5:30, which meant I had to drive home to Cranston, then back to North Kingstown with my son. This left little or no time for hiking.

This past weekend was our pack's annual sleepover. Cub World, a theme style overnight camp in Burriville, has become a favorite. This year we slept at Pease High Seas, with two pirate ship style cabins. A heated lighthouse provided a place for breakfast. Only eight scouts attended. This year we left for camp the same day as Scouting for Food bag pickup, which meant we got a late start. I was the first to arrive around 2:00 pm.

Part of my agenda is a quick hike. Running short of daylight, five scouts and a sister followed me around the campground. I took no pictures. We spoke of the buddy system, the ten essentials, and the six points of Leave No Trace. Yea, I know, there are seven points, but for cub scouts there are only six.

If the walk was more than a half mile, I'd be surprised. I haven't found a good marked trail that crosses Cub World. If somebody knows of one, I'd like to do a couple miles. Assuming, of course, that I manage to book the site before daylight savings time ends.

North South Trail, Ninigret to Kenyon Hill Road

2009-09-11T23:46:00.006-04:00

Saturday, September 5th

This hike was supposed to be the previous Saturday, but weather got in the way. In the meantime I developed a chest cold that I hoped would clear up in time. It did not. I hiked anyhow.

We drove down before 7 in the morning and put my wife's van on Kenyon Hill Road, about 17 miles from our starting point. Piling into the other van, Scoutmaster Kelley, my son Peter, two other scouts, and I drove down to Ninigret. We parked on East Beach Road. It was about 8:30 before we started walking. The trail markings were exceptionally clear.

We followed East Beach, crossed route 1, then entered Burlingame State Park. The bugs were ferocious. As usual, I resisted putting repellent on. While in Burlingame we saw a strange ant. Very large (about an inch), and orange and black. I'd never seen anything like it. I let it crawl on my hands to get a better look, and maybe a picture, but it moved too fast and quickly dropped off the other side. Eventually I got it to cross the back of my map and got a shot of it. The picture wasn't much, but the following Tuesday at work I googled it to find out more.

What I learned was that what I let crawl on my hand was a Velvet Ant, which is actually a female wasp. It also goes by the name Cow Killer Ant because the sting is so painful, it is said to kill a cow. And I let it crawl on my hand. It won't actually kill you, but if it's a painful as I'm told, it would have ended the hike real fast. I stole this picture because it matches the bug we saw.

We continued through Burlingame. We spotted a couple deer. Somewhere near the half way point, we stopped for lunch. I ate too much, but the mosquitoes seemed to eat more. After Burlingame we were walking on roads for what seemed forever. A jeep stopped and asked us directions to the campground. I was tempted to say continue driving, then turn right into the woods, but that wouldn't have been very helpful. I did the best I could. Later a man stopped to ask us if we were hiking the North South Trail. I said yes, up to Arcadia. He eagerly told us how great the trail was. The man who stopped behind him was less enthusiastic.

After walking through Wood River Junction, we finally reentered the woods near the Carolina Management Area. Here there are corn fields, high as an elephant's eye. This is where the trail markings finally let us down. We continued following a farm road when I noticed three things: the grass on the trail was very tall, we hadn't seen a trail marker in a while, and the sun was now in our face. We were off the trail. We came to a point where we could see landmarks we passed earlier that clearly indicated our location, so we turned around. There is a jog in the trail that is perfectly obscured. This is described in the book, but I don't hike with a book in my hand. They could have prefaced the paragraph describing the turn with CAREFUL: or some other words of warning. Two woman on horseback happened to be coming out of the wood on the trail we needed to follow.

Back in the woods, we continued through Carolina. Evidence of horse traffic was in great quantity, if you catch my meaning. We watched our step. We banged a left on Pine Hill Road and passed a hunter check station. We crossed the road for the final mile and a half of the hike. The trail turned into a forest road, then a dirt road, then a paved one. We walked by some very interesting houses. Soon after that, we came upon my van. I have never been so happy to see it. It was about 4. We hiked for about seven and a half hours, including lunch.

I expect to do another leg of the trail, maybe in the 12 to 14 mile range, but I have no plan to do it soon. With the additional off trail walking, I estimate we hiked around 18 miles, much further than I ever have before. I've done more strenuous hikes that took longer (Katahdin back in '07 took twelve hours), but this was different. My hips hurt, my feet hurt, my shins hurt, my thighs. A couple advil later and some extra rest, and I am fine, but boy oh boy was I sore on Sunday. And I've been dreaming about expensive hiking boots.

Thewlis Woods, South Kingstown

2009-08-23T17:08:00.012-04:00

Friday, August 21

Off of Route 1 in South Kingstown is Thewlis Woods, a South Kingstown Land Trust property. I drove down after work on Friday.

The trail is called The DAR Friendship trail or DAR Freedom trail, not sure which. The trail map available online says Freedom, but the sign says friendship. DAR refers to the Daughters of the American Revolution. The trail was created and maintained by Troop 1 Kingston. There is a .1 mile walk to a .7 mile loop. Not much of a trail, but I had other things I wanted to do before karate, so I didn't mind a short stroll.

I found the trail head fine. There wasn't much room to park. I walked the 500 or so feet to the main loop. When faced with a loop without a reason to go in a particular direction, I always go counter-clockwise. I don't know why. I turned right.

Straight away I was taken uncomfortably close to private houses. The blue blazes were few and somewhat indistinct. Having been created by Scouts as part of an Eagle project, the blazes were very nonstandard. They appeared to have been made using spray paint without any template. Also, they were a bit lower than you normally find. but the trail itself was clear and I trudged on fearlessly.

At some point I realized I hadn't seen a blaze in a while. There are a lot of paths that seem to have been made for cutting timber and I may have stepped onto one. The main path became occasionally overgrown. I checked my Blackberry for my location and headed the way I thought I should have. I got back onto the trail, this time going clockwise. That's when I discovered that the blazes were far more numerous and distinct in that direction. I passed by the access path back to my car, but continued on to see where I got off the trail. I found it in short order. Instead if turning back, I decided to continue and do the loop again, clockwise.

I walked back past many nice South Kingstown homes, noticing more and more "service" paths, for lack of a better term. Once again, despite my best effort, I was off the trail. I came to a familiar intersection, turned around, and hunted for the access path yet again. In doing so I walked by a rock on the trail with scat on it I had passed maybe three times. I again found the access path and headed back to my car. I had spent 50 minutes in the woods.

There was a pure stand of mature white pine, with the tell-tale denuded understory. Little other than greenbrier will grow. But much of the rest was oak, beech, and maple, will some pine. Greenbrier, fern, and a holly tree made up the understory. There was also a fair amount of poison ivy on the trail.

It's a nice walk but clearly needs a lot of maintenance. When checking my facts for this entry, I noticed these red letters:

NOTE: Thewlis Trail is temporarily unavailable for public access due to trail maintenance work underway at this site.

Was that new or had I simply missed it before? Astounding. I'll see about visiting again once it's done.

Mount Monadnock, Jaffrey, NH

2009-08-15T11:31:00.017-04:00

Sunday, August 9, 2009

I took a long weekend and brought the family camping. In addition to my wife and 7, 9, and 13 year old boys, I brought my 15 year old niece. My boys adore her. Since a trip with her grandparents to Utah, she had been itching for a real nature hike.

We camped, for maybe the forth time, at Greenfield State Park, in Greenfield, NH. Despite the large number of campsites, each one is clean, spacious, and distant from each other. It's my favorite campground, anywhere.

I chose to climb Sunday so that we can participate in camp lead nature activities on Saturday. Phil gave a fairly short lecture on Black Bears that I think the kids enjoyed. There also was a nature hike and ponding event, but we didn't attend them. After 8 pm we did a night hike, which was fun. I got some ideas for our cub scout pack sleepover in October.

I had climbed on Monadnock three times prior and been to the summit twice, and each time using the White Cross trail from Monadnock State Park. I toyed with the idea of doing a different trail, but I was overruled by the wife. Play it safe, we have a new hiker with us.

Monadnock State Park is about 25 minutes away from Greenfield and we got a late start. Parking at Monadnock cost us $18, which was a bit of a surprise. They charge per person and 15 years old is an adult, apparently. We used the bathrooms at the trail head and started up.

The climb was mostly uneventful and we were going rather slow. It was overcast but the rain wasn't predicted until much later. My 7 year old, despite having done this hike two years ago, was certain he couldn't make it. I spent some time trying to boost his morale.

There is no water on this trail, which is too bad. The water on Moosilauke and Little Haystack make those hikes memorable. There was mud, and we will likely remember it, but it's not the same. I wonder if other trails do.

At some point above the treeline we entered the clouds. Goodbye scenic views. Here we went VERY slow. I wore my work sneakers again. Everyone got to the top and we could barely see past our outstretched hands. It was cold and the wind was whipping. Some of the other climbers were not prepared for that, but having been on top of Washington and Katahdin, I've seen wind 30 mph faster in weather 20 degrees colder. We didn't linger long.

The summit is bald, not because it's above the tree line, but because fires lit by farmers in 1800 to clear land for pasture got out of control and burned the mountain. Maybe someday the forest will retake the summit. Monadnock is 3165 feet above sea level, but chiseled into the top is the number 3166. Let's dismiss survey error or erosion. Back in 1959 the size of the inch was shortened a tiny bit to make metric conversion easier. I'll refer the units nerds to this article for a better explanation than I can muster.

The hike down was also fairly uneventful. We continued to move slowly. It would sprinkle from time to time, but nothing too concerning. My 9 year old took the lead and complained constantly how slow we were going. He was completely done with the mountain and wanted out.

Back at the trail head I noticed that I had drank very little from my hydration pack. My youngest drank his dry and as such had to stop for frequent pee breaks. We used the bathrooms again and headed back to camp for dinner.

I had to remind the boys to be smart about what path they chose and where they put their feet, but all in all I'd have to say they climbed like champs. I don't know if I'd plan a harder trail for my younger two (or my niece) but this hike was well within their abilities. Maybe we'll do it again next year and choose another trail. There are rumors of caves and abandoned structures. I'll have to read the book to find out more.

Queen's River Preserve, Exeter

2009-08-01T18:27:00.015-04:00

July 31, 2009

Off Route 2, a bit south of Schartner Farm, is Mail Road. Less than a mile down Mail is School Land Woods Road. Less than a mile down there on the left is the trail head for Queen's River Preserve, a Nature Conservancy property.

It had rained earlier in the day and threatened to do so again, so I didn't know if I would get this one in. I didn't know how muddy the trail would be. Worst case was I would at least find the trail head. That I did around 3:30 pm. There were three other cars parked there. I did my best to not block them in.

The trail is a barred forest road. I brought shorts, but it wasn't very warm, so I walked in jeans. First order of business was to walk off the trail for a relief. Through a clearing and back into the woods I found a private place. There I found half buried debris. Some of it looked very old, maybe dating back to before the preserve was declared.

Duty done and back on the main trail I saw foot and paw prints. I passed another clearing declaring a forest restoration project in effect. Fire is an integral part of forest health, but we simply do not allow them anymore. Instead, the conservancy selectively cut some species of tree to allow, if memory serves, pitch pine to grow. This was very important to the tiger beetle. I'll have to take their word.

Soon I came to the end. This, I presume, is Queen's River. I had passed two side roads on my way. I turned back to try one of them. I passed a small cemetery. The stones I could read dated to the early 19th century. Soon I came upon three woman, each with large, friendly dogs. I'm not a dog person, but their sight was not without welcome. I didn't continue too far before a narrow side trail beckoned me. I turned right off of the road into the woods proper. The foliage was still wet and passing there made we as well. The way zig-zagged through mountain laurel and rhododendron. The path became more distinct then ended at another forest road. Left or right? I chose left.

I wanted to see what was to the right, and I also needed to know where the other forest road led to. I'd simply have to come back. So, off I went down the road. Eventually it ended at a field. There was another sign there announcing the preserve. I turned left down a road that seemed to skirt the property. I don't like to rely on my innate sense of direction, but no trail map was available and I didn't bring a compass, and I had the feeling I was walking back towards the original road. After a while I landed at the restoration clearing! I had looped! I turned back towards my car.

I passed the other side road and took it. I was doing ok on time. In short order I ended at a clearing with parked tractors. I doubled back and went back to the car. It was time to change into hiking shorts. Conveniently after changing, another car pulled up. In it was a woman with two greyhounds. She seemed to be waiting. The other three cars were gone.

I made hast on the path again, now free from cotton. I turned down the side road, then down the path. This time I turned right. It couldn't lead back to the main road or I would have seen where it comes out. It ended in a clearing near the river. I poked around, seeing more dog prints in the mud. I doubled back. Time was growing short.

Back on the main road, I still felt the urge to dawdle on side paths. There is a patch of moss that looked like a great place to nap. A side path led back to the agriculture field. I finally got back to my car right at 5:00. A second car was there, this one with a bumper sticker declaring their support for Chocolate Labs. Popular place for dog lovers. I had just enough time to get to North Kingstown and get into my Gi. We did heavy bag.

Mount Moosilauke, White Mountains, New Hampshire

2009-07-29T23:09:00.018-04:00

Beaver Brook trail
Saturday, July 25

This will be a long one.

A co-worker, Lou, has a family cabin outside Plymouth, NH and none of his friends are willing to go hiking with him. I stuck a bargain. He supplies the cabin, my bro-in-law Mikey and I will supply the food and beer. Weather reports didn't look very promising, but worst case we spend the weekend in a cabin in the woods with a lot of beer.

At 4802, Mount Moosilauke is a fairly high peak, and the closest 4000 footer to the cabin. We got a late start driving (my fault) and landed in the Whites around midnight. We unpacked some of our stuff, set up sleeping arrangements, and crashed. We woke late.

After a leisurely breakfast, we packed up and went looking for the trail head. I realized my AMC maps were left back in Rhode Island, so we stopped at an information center. A kindly, old, toothless man suggested a trail and gave Lou the directions. After an hour of driving, we found the trail head. $3.00 to park. It was ten past eleven when we hit the trail. The weather was gorgeous.

Beaver Brook trail resembles the Falling Waters trail to Little Haystack. For both that and this hike, nature provided plenty rain to ensure the mountain streams had extra vigor. The photos do not do it justice. The trail was strenuous and we had to take frequent breaks to catch our breaths. Normally I hit the gym treadmill twice a week to prepare for my high peak, but with a shift in my work schedule, I haven’t been able to make it. Lou, younger than I and somewhat fit, was unaccustomed to this level of hike. Mikey, on the other hand, had quit smoking and lost over 25 pounds.

There were 6X6’s cut diagonally, and attached with rebar to the rock to make an effective stairway. There was also rebar hand-holds along this stretch. We walked out onto the rock to marvel at the waterfall. Without warning my feet slipped out from under me and I landed flat on my stomach. I gripped the rock to keep from falling back, but with my feet over open air and the rebar out of reach, I couldn't climb back up.

In a calm voice, I said “Hey guys”. They said “Yea?” without turning around. “Little help?” They turned around, confused why I would choose that moment to lie down. Mikey realized the situation and jumped to my aid. He helped me up and I stepped to a safer location. “Nobody got a picture of that?” I said.

I was wearing my work sneakers. My hikers are old Timberlands that hurt my feet. I thought I could get away with something more comfortable. Maybe, had the treads not been worn out. Almost became an entry in Hiker Hell. I took this picture on the way down.

The roaring river slowly shrank away. Soon we found a side trail for use by AT through hikers. There were a couple tent platforms, a privy, and a hut. That provided a nice place to rest and refuel. The rest of the way up was mostly uneventful. The trees grew shorter, when suddenly we were on a rocky plain. We followed the cairns to the top. The remains of the Tiptop house were visible. A steward from the Dartmouth Outing Club was there providing some education to small children. Apparently they came up an easier path.

Ok, so here is the fancy book-learnin’ about Mount Moosilauke. Moosilauke is a Native American word for Bald Place. Bullwinkle and his kin have nothing to do with the name. Dartmouth College owns the summit and the Dartmouth Outing Club provides education and trail maintenance. The Tip Top House kept being broken into by snowmobilers. One day they took the stove so Dartmouth decided to close it. There is some disagreement to the proper pronunciation. According to Ada, the DOC steward, Dartmouth had a vote many years ago and choose Moose-a-LOCK, while the AMC and Forestry Service chose Moose-a-Lockee.

Ada was very nice. I would have liked to chat with her longer, but I felt I was detracting her from her duties. I wish her luck in medical school. It was 20 past four when we started back down.

We made better time. Five hours up, I was hopping for two hours down. We took a break at the hut. Now two people were sitting in it. I asked if it was ok if we lingered there with them. Lu Lu and Chris were north bound through hikers. They were happy to see that they had only 390 miles left. Our miles were about six for the day and my legs were burning. A south-bounder arrived called Face Plant. They had a lot to talk about, one having just come from where the other will go. I pestered them with questions.

Face Plant admitted she walked the 100 mile wilderness in Crocks because she didn't want to get her new hikers wet. I couldn't imagine it. She pulled her now-wet hikers off and I was struck how white her feet were from moisture. She better take care of those dogs. I gave them the last of my smarties and bid them goodbye. We lingered longer than planned and I didn't want to end the trail in darkness. Two of us were carrying flashlights.

My going was slow. We were all tired, but I wanted to take extra care at the cascades. Lou and Mikey went on ahead. Eventually the trail flattened out and we grouped up again.

We walked off the trail ten past seven. Exactly eight hours from when we started. We could have taken an hour off that at least if we were going for time, but we weren't. Dinner consisted of chicken and vegetables, marinated steak tips and shrimp, Johnsonville Brats, and lots of beer. I slept well. In the morning we breakfasted at Plain Jane’s diner then went to Polar Caves Park.

Frenchtown Park, East Greenwich

2009-07-19T22:06:00.009-04:00

Friday, July 17

July is Scout Camp and this year was no different. I intended on spending my time better than in years past, so I planned on taking a hike around Yawgoog Pond and becoming Wilderness First Aid certified. I found no time for the former, so no hike to report there. As far as the second is concerned, I am now certified to apply first aid, provided I drag the victim into the wilderness first.

I asked a co-worker where I should hike this Friday. He told me of a property owned by the East Greenwich Land Trust. Despite being assured to the contrary, I had low expectations for this hike. A fairly small piece of land, broken up by housing developments. I didn't expect to be able to spend more than a half hour looking around. Happily, I was wrong.

Frenchtown Park is on Frenchtown Road, west of route 2. There is parking behind a building that appears to have been an elementary school in a previous life. Here is a shot of the trail map I SHOULD have taken BEFORE the hike so I could refer to it. I thought I got more of the map. There is another wide area North of what the photo shows. The narrow part it between two housing developments. I stepped on the trail at 3:15.

You start south of the beautiful mill pond and walk over two dams. I went east to view the ruins of former mill buildings that are popular with people who drink "Natural Light" and enjoy burning trash. I lingered for a while and crossed the stream. There are a lot of side trails here, many of which lead nowhere.

I headed back to the pond then continued west on a wide and flat trail that lead out of the forest. Doubling back, I walked north to see the other half of the property. At this point I was very close to private property. Unfortunately, water soon made the way impassable to me and my work sneakers, so I turned around.

I dawdled on some side trails. I didn't have any difficulty judging my location. Using the streams, the mill pond, and the forest road as landmarks, I was always certain of my position. I helps that I was carrying my work Blackberry which has Google Maps.

Back at the dam I turned onto another side trail to kill more time. Here I found this little friend making haste. It's quite difficult to take a clear photo of a fast moving beetle while holding a cell phone camera. This is about the best possible.

Back to the dam I ran into the first people I saw, two boys on bicycles. I soon saw more walkers. It was 4:30 when I got to my car.

It was cool to see the mill ruins and rivers always make hikes more interesting. I sent a couple photos to my co-worker, but he didn't reply. I'll find out Monday if he got them. Next weekend I go to the White Mountains. Can't wait.

Pawtuxet River

2009-06-29T20:53:00.003-04:00

Saturday, June 27, 2009

There was a "Tree Walk" the RI Tree Council either sponsored or was somehow involved in. With my 13 year old, we met at the Farmers Market in Pawtuxet Village. The talk was a little dry but it was what I expected. It wasn't what my son expected. He was painfully bored. After a half hour, we ditched the talk and walked around the village.

I live only a couple miles from Pawtuxet and I seldom visit. It's gorgeous. The river is gorgeous. Too bad it's polluted.

After a short walk and a drink (ice cream shop didn't open until noon - what gives?) we headed for the river walk.

I did this walk maybe in '07 with all three boys. It is quite nice and a great respite from the city. Unfortunately too many teens find it a great place to burn trash and drink beer. In spots the teens like to linger there is significant damage. The trail was widened by the chopping down of bow timber trees for use in the fire. Some trees were spray painted. Trash was everywhere.

I wish I could speak directly to those kids and have them listen. First off, beer cans don't burn. You can stop trying. Secondly, a fire, even a small one, over shallow roots and under low overhanging branches is dangerous. If the season is dry, a root fire could spread and burn the area down. Good thing the area is as wet as it is.

Natural places are special because they don't stink of civilization. Bringing our stuff and making our mark there makes it a lot less special. The trash and damage doesn't ruin the area, but it does diminish it.

There are quite a few side trails and we followed a bunch of them. The entire walk couldn't have taken more than a half hour, but it certainly recharged my son's mood. Maybe not as much as ice cream would have, but we do what we can.

Big River Management Area

2009-06-26T19:00:00.015-04:00

Friday, June 26, 2009

Big River is over 8000 acres of forest and wetlands, mostly in West Greenwich. I was completely unfamiliar with it, largely because the guidebooks I use don't mention it. I saw it on my Greenways map then picked up the Great Swamp Press map. Apparently, many years ago, the state decided to condemn the land to built a reservoir. Some 200 houses once existed there. That reservoir was never created and instead we got ourselves a nature area.

I set foot on the property a couple weeks ago but haven't found time to hike it until today. I had driven by a parking area in the eastern side near Tarbox Pond, but today decided to park on Congdon road. I was a little put off by the No Parking sign, but decided that they just didn't want me parking by the river near a pipe. With the exception of water, my pack was ready to go. I started following Sweet Sawmill Road, picking my way to Sweet Pond. It was 3:10 pm.

Many trails are former roads from when this was a neighborhood. The map also shows many side trails. What the map does not show are the many, many other side trails, some of which go nowhere. Mapping them all would be futile and make the map even more busy than it already is. Much of Big River is mature white pine. There were the usual oaks, maples, beech, and birch you see most places, but pines dominate the landscape.

The forecast called for thunderstorms, but the skies were clear and it was hot. Coming from work, I was wearing blue jeans. Shorts would have been in order, but I didn't think of packing a change of pants. I had deet in my pack, but I made the decision not to use it. Perhaps I should have. The bugs were bad. When I sweat up, and boy did I sweat up, large flies were dive-bombed my head.

I found a Eastern Ribbon Snake on the way that seemed to want to be photographed. Of course I obliged. At the pond I banged a left and came upon an old cemetery. Someone had been by not too long ago to leave plastic flowers and American flags by some of the stones. I couldn't read any of them.

The path was well worn with the signs of mountain bike tracks. It appears as if there was some sort of race there in the recent past. There are arrows nailed to trees pointing the way. The area is off limits to ATV traffic and there was a sign saying so at the parking area. Clearly it went unheeded as I saw some ATV tracks as well, some with serious tread on them.

I didn't see a single person on my walk, but I certainly saw evidence. Trash everywhere. Shotgun shells, snickers, beer cans, and the leftovers from a trash fire. I kept an ear out for gunshots. On the first sign, my legal orange would have gone on and I would have picked the fastest path out of there. I don't recall if hunting was allowed, but clearly that point is irrelevant.

I followed Burnt Sawmill back to Sweet Sawmill and started back for my car. Then an 'aw what the hell' feeling came over me and I doubled back to continue on Burnt where it crossed Sweet. Here I found less small trash, but more large trash.

The truck is not native to the New England mixed forest. I don't know if you can tell, but that light bulb is huge. It could not have been there very long.

I heard the call of birds above me. At first I thought they were crows, but saw them and knew they were hawks. They were clearly angry, maybe at me. They continued circling around. I didn't think I could get a shot of them, but they persisted. So I pulled my phone out, put it into video mode, and they were gone. Go figure.

I took another side trip to an unnamed pond. There were side trails away but the map did not show them, and I was eager to get back to the car. I was hearing rumbling from the North. I got to my car, happy to be in air conditioning and away from the bugs. it was 5:30.

Boy Scout Hike, Fisherville Brook, both sides

2009-06-06T23:43:00.003-04:00

Saturday, May 30

Boy Scouts need various things to advance in rank. Map and compass skills, nature knowledge, and just to be on scout outings. This is why I was disappointed when only three scouts went on our hike. Two of which went on the Great Swamp hike.

The path I chose was to do the South side of Pardon Joslin road, the entire orange then blue loops, then do the North red and white loops. We spent a lot of time going over material, so it took a while. My son and his best friend could not restrain from chattering away about nonsense. We passed a lady clearly inspired by the bird watchers from the old Woody Woodpecker cartoons. I smiled and said hello. She said "I could hear you over the hill. Shush!" When we passed her way again, she was clearly unhappy to see us.

I handed the Audubon map and a compass to one boy and asked him to orient it, and locate our position. He did so in short order. I gave it to my son's buddy and he did the same, but I was certain it was a lucky guess. A little later on I had him try again and he was way off. Again, I explained it and I think he understood.

I intended on doing both the red and while loops on the North side, but time was growing short, so we did just the Red outer loop. Not a soul was seen. A scout did find a tiny deer tick nymph on his shirt, but that was it for those suckers. We returned to the parking lot and drove home.

A rude comment may get the immediate desired result from a small but noisy band of Scouts, but I wonder if this lady understood that the greater good is served when as many noisy kids as possible become familiar with, comfortable in, and learn to respect our natural places. When these places are viewed as exclusive, they will not be valued by all.

Cocumscussoc State Park, North Kingstown

2009-05-31T18:13:00.005-04:00

Friday, May 29

Don't ask me to pronounce it. I'm not good with Indian names.

The legality of access to this tract of land is in question. According to this web page, there is access and legal hunting. According to someone I spoke with, who was in a position to know, it's off limits. I took a look around anyhow.

It had rained earlier in the day, so I was doubting that I could get very far inside. I found the access point at Richard Smith Grove (a small picnic area on route 1, just North of Wickford), and went in.

The unmarked trail was fairly easy to follow. It took me quite a while before I was out of sight of private property to the north and out of earshot of busy route 1. Some of the trail was ATV accessible and I saw evidence of tracks. I also saw a couple human footprints. I kept my ears open for sounds of hunters, but there were none. I had a legal orange vest in my backpack that would have gone on at first gunshot.

There wasn't much to look at. A slug on a birch tree, some running water, and mosquitoes. Not nearly as swampy and impassible as the above document implied. Soon, though, the path went wet and I had to stop. I couldn't see a path around and had no interest in bushwhacking, so I turned around and hiked back to my car.

The property appears to go a little over a mile from Route 1, but I doubt I got very close to a half mile in. Maybe, if the will existed, one could design, cut, and mark proper trails, put in a couple platform bridges, and we'd have a fair nature trail. Maybe a North Kingstown resident could suggest it.

Fisherville Brook - the red and white loops

2009-05-28T16:42:00.004-04:00

Friday, May 22

I completed the rest of Fisherville Brook on the other side of Pardon Joslin road. Warned that there may be ticks on this trail, I tucked my jeans into my socks. If there is anything in life that makes you feel more like a dork than tucking your pants into your socks, I don't want to know about it. Small price to pay, I suppose.

yes, I was wearing blue jeans. Coming straight from work, you know. I did bring my hiking day pack, so I had a little water and munchies. With the whole shebang less than 2.5 miles, there was little chance of starvation.

While the South side had the water feature, North side had towering white pines. My pack had a tree finder in it, which gave me the opportunity to identify a pignut hickory. No nuts just yet. Mostly the forest consisted of pines and red maples, with a few oaks, birch, and beech scattered around. The caterpillars are running. I ran into many silks dropping from trees. I hate that feeling.

I did the red loop clockwise. Near the end of the loop, I crossed to the inner white loop counter-clockwise. I took any chance I could find to waste a little time.

It was hot and I drank my half liter. I knew it took about 35 minutes to get from the parking lot to the North Kingstown YMCA, but I still ended way too soon. I had a good half hour to kill waiting for class to start. Next time, maybe I'll visit Big River.

Great Swamp, South Kingstown

2009-05-23T15:25:00.004-04:00

Saturday, May 16

My son's Boy Scout Troop decided to take an easy, flat hike for the newer scouts. I did this same hike with my brother-and-sister-in-law, but this time we didn't take the wrong turn and actually made it to the water feature. Good thing, too. The water totally makes this hike.

The gang included the Scoutmaster, a parent, four scouts, and myself. Part of the requirements for the first couple ranks is to be able to identify plants and animal signs, so I got the opportunity to do my walking lecture. There were the regular features: oaks, pines, and maples, but I got the chance to identify some slightly less common or more overlooked species. Star flower, witch hazel, skunk cabbage. Stuff like that.

For wildlife signs, we saw lots of poop. Unlike the cub scouts, these scouts seemed more appalled by this and jerked away out of fear of being bitten by it. Speaking of being bitten, we also saw a 30ish inch long black snake. Either a rat snake or a northern black racer. It showed no fear of us, and when it became bored, slithered back into the swamp. We also became very familiar with deer ticks. One scout had 14 pulled off of him by hikes end. I found five or six on myself. Next time I'll bring some deet.

Everybody seemed to enjoy themselves. It's not too tough of a trek, but one scout was unaccustomed with hiking and grew very tired. In the end, he did well. I hope to see him at the next hike.

Fisherville Brook, Exeter

2009-05-16T16:21:00.006-04:00

Friday, May 15

My work hours were changed and now I have three hours to kill on Fridays between when I get off and when I have to be at karate. What is there to do in, or near, North Kingstown? Not too much, it would seem. You can browse the dollar store only so many times.

Then it hit me! Take a hike!

Friday after Friday came and went before the stars lined up. I drove to the ASRI Fisherville Brook Wildlife Refuge in Exeter, parked, then walked onto the trail. Then I walked back off of the trail. I had assumed I was on the North, red loop, but the blazes were actually blue. I was actually on the part South of Pardon Joslin road. It was listed as 1.25 miles, but because I included the yellow blazed, Cedar Swamp loop, I'm guessing it was closer to 1.4 miles. At the South end of the property I picked up the orange loop for another mile or so.

What a gorgeous piece of land! It's rare that I get to take a walk all by me onesies, but it seems it's now a routine event. I walked without my regular gear. I usually over prepair, but this time, because of the length, I had nothing but the ASRI map and my car keys. No water, no snack, no compass, no nothing. The trail was well marked, fairly flat, and easy going.

Benches, both park style and log constructed, are located throughout. The day was hot and I walked with purpose. Sometimes it's hard to slow down, but I was just coming from work and I had a deadline. The canopy was fairly open so a fair amount of sunlight filtered down. Part of the trail borders fields for even more sun.

There is an historic cemetery, an beautiful pond, and a waterfall. It occurred to me later why I've never made it to this delightful hike. It's not in the Walks and Rambles. Not my copy, anyhow. I'll have to see if it's in the forth edition.

I slowed down, even sat for a moment, the closer I got to the parking lot. I was ahead of schedule. I got to karate with lots of time to spare. This would be a great hike for cub scouts.

Boy Scout Hike, Parker Woodland, Coventry

2009-03-28T22:53:00.002-04:00

Saturday, March 28

My son's troop was looking for a good medium length hike. I already took the Cub Scouts to Parker Woodland for a two-ish mile hike, so I suggested the entire circuit including both Coventry and Foster. Seven miles, per the ASRI published map.

The weather, which was supposed to be iffy to fine, was excellent. Slight sprinkles for a minute or two, and the sun came out later. Five adults and eight scouts came along.

Two of the scouts freshly crossed over, and a third 12 year old also joined recently. I was curious to see how they did. I suggested to the ranking scout he make sure any and all material needed for tenderfoot was covered when possible. Owen did a great job and all three newbies learned a lot.

We saw evidence of woodpeckers, carpender ants, toads, oak wasps, canada geese, blue jays, and even saw a black butterfly. I wanted Owen to do the lion share of the education, but the cub leader in me couldn't resist giving a spiel or two about the plant life. Few plants have leafed out at this point, but ferns were in evidence.

There were a couple cellar holes of interest, including the Caleb Vaughn farm house mentioned in January. We got to table rock, which is a flat rock ballanced on a couple smaller ones, and ate lunch. We were running behind, so we shortened the trip by a mile or two.

I didn't bring a camera. My wife brought it on vacation in Ireland and I hadn't had a chance to empty it of pictures and charge the battery. Sorry.

Cub Scout Hike, Parker Woodland, Coventry

2009-01-25T22:16:00.008-05:00

January 25, 2009

In my last blog entry, I mentioned my Cub Scout Pack's annual winter hike. This year it was held at the George B. Parker Woodland in Coventry. Later that day I actually walked the hike with my 12 year old son, Peter. I met the caretaker (what a sweet gig!) after he locked me in. We ended the hike about a quarter to five and the parking lot closes at 4:30. He suggested I let ASRI know that I was going to have a large group, which I did. I was guessing about 20, adults included. He was real nice. I wish I remembered his name.

That hike was today. There was talk of below zero wind chill, but I don't pay much attention to weather forecasts. It wasn't going to rain, and that was good enough for me. Eleven scouts, plus assorted parents and siblings caravaned down to Coventry, with one family meeting us there. I started by giving them regular Leave No Trace speech. Then, off we went!

The plan was to follow the standard path to the Caleb Vaughn farm site (now just a cellar hole), then follow Biscuit Hill Road about half way to a side path, which leads towards parking lot #2. When that trail hit the brook, we banged a right towards the mysterious cairns. Then we meet up with our original trail, bang a left, and head to the car. Two miles total, maybe. We, in fact, followed this plan.

The way to the Vaughn farm took way longer than I expected. The snow, even though packed down from foot traffic, made the going slow and difficult. Deer tracks were everywhere. Tracks made by field mice and squirrels were also present. Scat with fur was found very near the trail. The scouts yelled "Poop!" with excitement. I cautioned them not to take souvenirs. Fox or coyote, I would guess. Coyote prints were also in evidence.

Part of my leave no trace bit was to talk about planning ahead. One thing I found out in planning was that dogs were not permitted, and I mentioned that to them. When we reached the Vaughn farm, the other family arrived, along with their family dog. The boys saw them and shouted "No dogs allowed!" Wow, they listened! The family is a very responsible bunch and the oversight was easily forgiven. They managed their dog very well, which is another LNT principle.

Back in December, I continued the regular trail, but in order to shorten the hike a bit, I decided to take the cubs down Biscuit Hill road, so named because a cart of biscuits destined for General Rochambeau's army supposedly overturned there. Biscuit Hill road is less a road and more a slightly wider, straighter foot path. In fact, due to the lack of maintenance and that no previous foot traffic to flatten the snow, the regular trail may have been easier. One benefit of the road was that it avoided some ridge walking that would have been treacherous with ice. I was concerned for a bit that I would not find the right turn, but it was quite clear once we came apon it.

We walked down to Turkey Medow Brook, which we had crossed early in our hike. The boys paused to take a look. We turned right towards the cairns. There was a hike put on by the RI Wild Plant Society that talked about these structures, but I was busy that weekend. I did my best to explain what I knew of them.

A couple from our group sped ahead. I decided to walk so that I could still see the last member of our party, so my speedy friends left my sight. I learned later that a 15 year old sibling was wearing thin sneakers and had some major foot freeze going on. Ah, the lessons nature teaches us. No harm done.

Back in the parking lot we had hot chocolate with marshmallows. Near boiling hot chocolate was put into my car back home and two and a half hours later, it was still too hot to drink.

Christmas is a time of planning for the spring

2008-12-28T13:26:00.004-05:00

Like for many, Christmas was scaled down this year. With the exception of the Wii that Santa brought, gifts were modest and thoughtful. And that's just fine for me.

Gifts for me (and relating to the outdoors) included AMC's Best Backpacking in New England and The Book of Forest and Thicket. I intend on having these books thoroughly demolished before the spring thaw. Also on my wish list include titles by Les Stroud, Paul Rezendes, and Aldo Leopold.

I've mentioned before how I wish to start backpacking, so this spring I will make my first jaunt. At first I set sights on Mount Greylock. It isn't very difficult and should be a good introduction to the subject. On second thought, I decided to leave that one for my second trip. Pachaug State Forest (which I've been meaning to do a day hike in for quite some time) has one where the lean-to is less than a half mile from the parking lot. Doesn't sound too adventurous, but it will serve as a proof-of-concept. And if something goes wrong, a midnight stroll back to the car is not out of the question.

The plan is to go to the forest for a day hike, land at the designated overnight spot for the night, then do another day hike in the morning. If planned correctly, I could leave the heavier equipment at the lean-to. If that goes well, Mount Greylock will still be there in July.

My shopping list includes a backpacking stove and something (besides chemicals) to purify water. I could get away with using a propane stove as I don't need to walk very far, but the water is a must. Tax refund time.

Oh, yea, and I'll need to buy a backpack.

Also coming up: my annual January Cub Scout Hike. This year will be in Parker Woodland.

Ken Weber, nature writer

2008-10-12T19:14:00.004-04:00

Peter, my oldest, is twelve. A month after his forth birthday Peter became the victim of the unfortunate condition known as LBS, or, Little Brother Syndrome. Evan was born and the condition appeared chronic.

I tried to find activities Peter and I could do together to reassure him that he wasn't going to be forgotten. When he was five, we started hiking.

A co-worker of mine, an avid naturalist, turned me on to Ken Weber's Walks and Rambles in Rhode Island. It is the definitive book of Rhode Island day hikes.

A couple years later I learned that Ken was doing a talk on animal tracks at the Audubon Society of Rhode Island. There was a talk one night and a walk the following weekend. The walk was booked up (I seem to find out about these things too late) but I got the chance to sit in on the talk. Before hand lots of people were milling about. It seems to me that I always end up at events where everybody already knew each other. I tried to blend in.

Some guy came up to me and started a conservation. After a few moments he introduced himself as Ken. I was taken aback. His manner was so easy going I hardly expected him to be the speaker. He is a published writer. He wrote a weekly nature column. He was famous. But it seemed he sought me out to make me feel comfortable, welcome. It was blown away.

Needless to say the talk was awesome. Frustrated that I couldn't participate in the walk, I promised myself I would someday hike with him.

On August 2nd of 2007, Ken Weber died.

During his life, I had never once read his weekly nature column. I didn't get the Saturday paper it was in, but that shouldn't have stopped me. Life is very busy for me. A good friend of recently mine gave me a copy of Wanderings, a collection of his weekly articles from the mid to late 1980's. His writing in his hiking books is very informational. But his nature stories, inspirational.

I met Ken just that once. He's been gone over a year now, but his writing still influences, still inspires my passion for nature. The more I get to know him through his writing, the more I feel I've lost a good friend. His knowledge, his passion, his curiosity. In no small part has his writing inspired me to create this blog.

There is much more about him than is contained in his Wikipedia entry. I created that in part to memorialize him, part to learn more about his life.

If Ken touched your life, please share.

Huge disappointment

2008-09-08T23:21:00.002-04:00

September 8, 2008

Walking on a wooded trail brings me such pleasure. I can't explain it. But of all the hiking I've done, I've never been backpacking. Ever.

The Boy Scouts of America announced backpack training for leaders. My curiously was sparked. Of course, I had to fit it into my schedule and budget. I agonized over my decision for the entire summer. Just days before the deadline, I found a backpacking tent for $18 at the Sports Authority. A 25 degree mummy sleeping bag was also on sale. I borrowed an external frame backpack and signed up for training.

Then I learned that the training was cancelled.

Huge let down. Only one other person signed up. The leader promised to offer it again next year. Man, I hope so. I am aching to go.

Other than a Cub Scout overnight in October and a Cub Scout hike in January, I have little on the agenda. Maybe I'll take one of my boys to Pachaug this Sunday. Or maybe I'll grab two days on the North-South trail. Campmor has a frame backpack on sale ...

Vin Gormley Trail, Burlingame

2008-08-26T20:06:00.009-04:00

August 24, 2008

As I've mentioned before, my oldest boy is in Boy Scouts. I had been a cub scout volunteer for several years, so helping the troop seemed natural. Mostly I help out by going on overnights and attending committee meetings, but what I look forward to doing is taking the boys out on a nature hike.

Earlier I had suggested we work towards the hiking merit badge. This went over well with most of the boys. The requirements include five 10-mile hikes and one 20-mile hike. We've hiked around Yawgoog pond, around the Blue Hills, and on the cliff walk. This latest hike, suggested by another parent, was the Vin Gormley trail in Burlingame State Park.

My boy and a tenderfoot needed some map and compass skills for rank advancement, so I stopped by the Map Center in Providence. Great Swamp Press, publishers of the definitive book of the North South trail, produces wonderfully high quality topographic maps of many natural areas in Rhode Island. I picked up Burlingame/Carolina and Pachaug forest.

The Vin Gormley trail is a little over eight miles, so I added a bit around the halfway point to bring it to ten. The hike circles Watchaug Pond. We head off counter-clockwise on the advice of the parent who suggested the hike. His reasoning was it's better to get the mile and a half of road travel out of the way at the start rather than the end when the boys were tired. I concurred.

Vin Gormley is an easy trail. Well marked with very little vertical. The group essentially splits in two: the older boys race ahead and the younger two straggle. We pause every now and again to take a closer look at nature. Many frogs and toads. A small black snake. A monarch butterfly Caterpillar. Oak wasp gall. Our tenderfoot had never been on a nature hike before. His trekking poles were used to smash mushrooms and swat at dragonflies, but he took away something valuable from the hike. If nothing else, he learned that he could do it.

There is a small covered bridge crossing a stream. I am told that it was at the annual Flower and garden show in Providence one year and was donated. It was helicoptered in. We stopped for lunch.

The hike took about six hours. Back at Burlingame Picnic Area, most of the troop goes for a swim. Around five we pack up and head North.

Franconia Ridge Trail

2008-07-29T21:56:00.007-04:00

July 26, 2008

The plan was to camp alone with Peter, my 12 year old, and do the ridge. Then it became a family event, with just Peter and I hiking. Then my wife's sister and her husband wanted to come along, with their two young children. Camping alone with one boy could have been a very special time. I'll have to plan another next summer.

We camped at Lafayette campground. After much dallying, Peter, Bro-in-Law Mike, and I started our ascent. It was about 10 AM. I notice right off that my boy was wearing blue jeans. Seems he forgot his hiking pants. Be prepared, hmmm. Weather reports indicated a warm day, at least.

We followed the Falling Waters trail up to Little Haystack (4840). Gordon back at the camp store said about three quarters of the hikers travel the loop in this direction. Falling Waters is so named because it follows Dry River, a very ironically named body of water. Because of tremendous rain recently, Dry River roared. There are three main falls on this trail and they are spectacular. My son couldn't contain his enthusiasm. This part was, by far, the most beautiful hike I've ever been on. Sadly, we couldn't follow the river forever.

Near the first peak there is a sign that read Shining Rock 0.1 miles. Shining Rock is a 200 by 800 foot granite ledge that is visible for miles. It shines because of it's angle to the sun and because water trickles over it. Shining Rock is very visible from camp, and the view from Shining Rock is amazing. We met up with a young couple, Kyle and Melissa, who chose to hike with internal frame backpacks that must have weighed fifty pounds each. Melissa was not as eager to travel two tenths of a mile out of her way to see a rock, but once there she seemed glad she did.

We paused there for a while, then continued our way to Little Haystack. This part seemed to take forever. As the summit was barely above the tree line, we could not see our destination. When we finally got there, I was surprised by two things: how late it had gotten, and that my phone had three bars. There is little or no service back at camp.

The ridge line runs due North to Mount Lincoln (5089) then Mount Lafayette (5260), a distance of just under two miles. Despite a couple humps to get over, this part was fairly easy. There was some wind but the temperature was comfortable, about 60. It's nice when you can actually see your destination.

At Lafayette the ridge trail continues North, but we turn left, down towards the Greenleaf hut. The Appalachian Mountain Club has several "huts" along the Appalachian Trail in the White Mountains. I had never visited one before. In reality, this hut is a small hotel at an elevation of 4000 feet. For about $80 you can stay the night. Included are two meals: dinner and breakfast. Now that I've seen the facility (and the meals), it's not that bad of a deal. Still, out of my price range.

From Greenleaf down to Lafayette Place is 2.9 miles. Walking down doesn't bother me. I frequently hear people say how they hate the walk down. I suppose my knees aren't too bad yet. This final leg did seem to take forever. There was one part, somebody called Agony Ridge, that was tricky. There was a three foot wide vein of mineral in the granite bedrock. It was smooth and slippery. We had to take extra care. Other than that, it was a "when will this be over?" scene. It was growing dark and I forgot my headlamp.

7:40 PM we walked off the trail. The showers at the camp store had a line, so I found another shower on the opposite side of the campground. When done, I heard the rain. The skies had opened. I stepped out and realized that it was dark and I didn't know where my campsite was. I put my shirt into a plastic bag with my dirties and walked blind in the direction I thought I had come. In fact, I walked exactly in the opposite direction. Finally I asked directions to the camp store and found my way back. Dinner, of course, was ruined. When the rain let up, I got another fire burning and sat out a bit.

In the morning we headed for North Conway. After shopping, we took route 16 South. Travelling through Ossipee, NH we discovered where a tornado had touched down. The tops of some trees were sheared off and a trailer was crushed like a soda can. People were stopping to take pictures.

Scouting Outings - Camp Yawgoog and Cubbies at PawSox

2008-07-15T21:57:00.008-04:00

This blog is for nature hikes. Not nature outings. That, at least, was my intention. Here are some outdoor activities I have been occupied with, even though no actual hikes were involved. I'll try to keep it brief.

July 6 to July 13, 2008
Camp Yawgoog, Rockville, RI

Peter is twelve and in Boy Scouts. This was his second year at Camp Yawgoog. I took the opportunity to (made the mistake of) spending the week at Yawgoog with the troop.

I never went to camp. Always wanted to, but it never happened. I think somewhere in the recesses of my memory I recall going to day camp, maybe with church. Doesn't count. By the time I saw the movie Meatballs, I felt I missed something. I wasn't in scouts, not really. I started as a Bear scout and I don't know if I ever saw a pack meeting. I remember seeing the PC Friars play at the Providence Civic Center. My closest friend made it to Eagle, but he never told me what went on with the troop or at Yawgoog. Last summer I found out.

Scouts and Scouters sleep on raised platforms, under canvas tents with the sides rolled up. Something akin to what Hawkeye Pierce used, but without the bug netting. We sleep on cots.

The energy and chaos at camp is impossible to describe. I was glad when I could have a meal without screaming. From Wednesday morning to Thursday afternoon I took some leader training. Outdoor Leader Skills (OLS) teaches some basic outdoor skills and demonstrates how to do some standard scout activities, like knots, cooking outdoors, and perform a flag ceremony. Nine of us were sequestered in the back woods, far from the regular camp. We formed the Owl patrol. I was the assistant senior patrol leader.

About half of the sessions were taught by camp staff: 18 to 20 year old former scouts. They did a great job. One thing to note: leaders drank water from polycarbonate bottles, taught us to cook scrambled eggs by boiling them in a ziploc bag, and to remove ticks with a burnt match head. Scouting, for better and worse, is very out of date. All in all, it was good instruction and I learned a lot.

Back at camp I did a Trek-on Safely seminar, which teaches how to plan and execute a scout outing. I didn't learn anything new, but it was a good review.

I did a very small part of the challenge course (rock wall and obstacle course) and tried my hand at archery at 30 yards. I didn't do too well, but I did hit the target once. I did the scoutmaster splash, where a scout leader from each troop does a belly-flop into Yawgoog Pond. Rather than a standard face-plant, I jumped, tucked, and landed on my pack. One judge didn't think it was safe. They boys liked it.

No photos because I hadn't recharged the camera battery in time, but I had a good time. Peter earned four badges. One morning, I woke at 5:30 to see a deer not more than six feet from my cot. It stood for a moment, then ran through the camp. It's good to be home.

July 19 an 20th, 2008
Pawtucket Red Sox Cub Scout Sleepover

This is the forth time I've done this event. Once we couldn't sleep the night because a hurricane was coming through, so we had to vamoose. That was my first time, I think. My younger two boys are cub scouts and I brought them both.

For $25 a ticket the boys can participate in a clinic run by the players, get autographs (both are open to the public), participate in the opening ceremonies, watch the game, see a baseball themed movie on the big screen, then sleep the night on the field. We've seen The Sandlot, The Rookie, and Field of Dreams. This year they showed The Sandlot again. It's by far the best movie for cub-aged boys. Because of a birthday party, we arrived less than an hour before game time, missing the clinic and autographs.

The PawSox got slaughtered. They are tops in the International League this year, but it's hard to win games when your starting pitcher gives up nine runs in the first two innings. Final score was 13 to 5. They lost last year as well. The boys didn't seem to mind. Or notice. What they did notice was the special guest. Returning from injury was none other than David Ortiz! We lucked out by catching his third of a three game rehab assignment. He hit a homer in each of his PawSox games. When he came to the plate, the energy was almost fenway-esque.

I didn't get much sleep. Never do on these things. They kept the full stadium lighting on until 2:00 AM. I was up before seven to pack up. The PawSox offer a danish, cereal, and coffee breakfast.

Back home my wife decided we had to go swimming. I'm not a swimmer, but it was a hot day. We go to Burlingame Picnic Area. It was nice. They boys love being in the water. I splashed around for a bit then got some reading done. A camping book, of course.

Wickaboxet Management Area

2008-06-29T17:15:00.005-04:00

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.

Time to Make Time

2008-06-26T19:45:00.004-04:00

It's been a while since I've updated the blog. June is a busy month for me, what with Father's Day, my Mom and wife's birthdays, plus my wedding anniversary (today), so it's no surprise I can't find time to wonder in the woods. Every weekend was either an event or rain, it seemed.

I have had time to plan, however. July 25th I will take my eldest boy on a hike over Franconia Ridge. In August my brother-in-law and I will climb Mount Mansfield in Vermont, my fourth of the six highpoints in New England. Connecticut and Massachusetts are left, and I probably could hit them both on a fall weekend.

July will also be Boy Scout camp. I will be spending the whole week at Camp Yawgoog with Peter's troop and I expect that will mean a sturdy hike. Perhaps a trip to Long Pond would be in order. The Boy Scouts always have some adult leader training worth looking into, so I'll be doing some of that. Outdoor Leader Skills (OLS) is on the agenda. I've already taken the Cub Scout version, OWLS. Back home I will attend a Leave No Trace awareness workshop on July 17 at REI in Cranston. They also will be doing PEAK training (Promoting Environmental Awareness in Kids).

I hope to take the hike this Saturday I've been postponing. Pachaug Trail from Ken Weber's book sounds great. It'll be a new one for me.

One last thing for this time, I'm officially listed on the Hiking Blogs! Maybe I will achieve my goal of having another reader other than myself! I don't want to get ahead of myself ...

That's it for now. I hope to have some good stuff to add this weekend!

Sprague Farm, Chepachet

2008-05-18T19:39:00.011-04:00

May 18, 2008

The Rhode Island Wild Plant Society puts on many walks and lectures over the course of the year, and I have not had the opportunity to do any of them. Until today.

Today's walk and talk, on a beautiful piece of land just west of Chepachet center, deals with the transition between the Northern Hardwood and the Central Hardwood forest types. Typical of the Northern forest are trees like Striped maple and Atlantic White Cedar, otherwise unknown in Rhode Island. Leader Garry Plunkett's encyclopedic knowledge, energy, and enthusiasm made for a wonderfully interesting and informative walk.

Sprague Farm is an abandoned farm turned forest, managed by the Glocester Land Trust. Jedediah Sprague purchased the property in parts starting back in the Revolutionary War. Jedediah was a tavern owner and patriot. There are quite a few references to him on the internet. May have been a General. The foundation remains of his son's houses are still present. There is a well hole that still looks usable. I am told another foundation has a 175 year old tree growing out of it, showing how long ago this property was abandoned. We did not pass by it.

The paths are wide but mostly unmarked. ATV tracks, not allowed without special permission, are seen throughout. There is significant trail damage because of it. A couple times we had to trek off trail to avoid a large and deep puddle caused by the ATVs. On one such excursion I saw some unusual scat. Checking through my Scat and Tracks of the Northeast (Halfpenny, Bruchac) it appears to be Canada Lynx. I'm not saying it is, but that's what the scat looked like. I wish I took a photo. It also resembles the drawing for mountain lion. No, I simply do not want to go there.

Last summer I met a man who was convinced there were mountain lions in Rhode Island. In the greater Providence area, no less. I'm not a believer. This could have been ATV rider's scat for all I know. There was no fur evident.

My boy was quite through with the woods for the day after an hour and a half, so I paid Garry for the talk (five bucks a person for non-members, cheap!) and we headed out, not stopping to identify the wildflowers.

Take Steps for Crohn's & Colitis

2008-05-17T22:37:00.009-04:00

May 17, 2008

Dean Brooks, my Brother-in-Law, suffers from Crohn's Disease. I know little about it, so here's the web page:
http://www.cctakesteps.org/Home.htm
Take Steps is a fundraising and awareness event put on by the Crohn's & Colitis Foundation of America. The local event was held at Colt State Park in Bristol, not far from where he and my sister live. It involved a three mile walk around the park. I brought Peter, my 12 year old Boy Scout, and Colin, my 6 year old. We met up with my parents, my other sister, and my niece and nephew. We all pitched in some donation money at the start.

The walk itself is rather uneventful. Three miles, mostly over paved walkways. My feet hurt, I think because of the pavement. Peter disappeared to the front of the pack while I hung back with Colin, who wasn't entirely enjoying the experiencing.

What he DID enjoy was the inflated bouncy-thingie (what are those things properly called?) He also got a temporary tattoo, which was free of charge. (I got a Chinese pictogram for the word 'Clarity', but told my parents I got a tramp-stamp saying 'Juicy'.) Everything was free of charge except the raffle. We were offered sandwiches, bottled water, coffee, fruit, cookies, and other snacks after the walk, and we all got t-shirts and bandannas. I bought five raffle tickets with my remaining five bucks. I didn't win anything. We were talking about which raffle item we wanted but didn't get. PawSox and Trinity tickets were what I put in for. Dean said he was hoping for a cure, so I guess we all went home empty-handed. Except for the snacks and water and use of the bouncy-thingie and the t-shirts and the ... with all of the free give-aways, it appears like they gave away all the money they raised. In reality the stuff was all donated by companies like (reading back of T-shirt) Starbucks, Rite Aid pharmacy, and Citizens Bank.

This was a well run event and the weather was great. I feel like I got a lot of the little I donated. I will ink this on my calendar for next year, and next time bring a little more money to donate.

Durfee Hill

2008-05-11T23:18:00.015-04:00

May 11, 2008

My wife went shopping with her mother and two sisters, so I took the boys to my parents to wish my Mom a Happy Mother's Day. I had originally wanted to get on the trail in the early afternoon, but you know how it is when visiting the 'rents. I head North on 146 looking for where it crosses route 44. Sometime around North Smithfield I finally come to the realization it DOESN'T cross. It does, but way back in Providence. The plan should have been to take 6 West to 295 North to 44. I make my way to Durfee Hill, number 27 of Ken Weber's Walks and Rambles, if a later than was strictly necessary.

I apologize for the quality of the photos. I forgot the Sony camera back home and used the old LG cell phone camera. They get the point across, I suppose.

When I come to the hunter checking station I realize I've been here before. Many years ago I tried this hike. I had parked and and searched for the trail behind the station. There is a large circled P on the map where you are to park, but for some reason I expected the start to be the "X" at the bottom of the map. I couldn't find the trail, and headed back to the car discovering that we were covered in ticks.

Today I make the same mistake, but I am less impatient. I actually read the text describing the trail and discover my error. You must go back out to the main road, cross, and follow it for two tenths of a mile. Then you enter the woods. We find it just fine.

The text describes a rock wall where people climb and repel down, and sure enough, we find four people doing just that. My boys make a bee-line for them. I'm not keen on intruding on their private moments, but they don't seem to mind. We head back on our way and I soon notice I have guests. There are two ticks crawling on my pants. We check ourselves out and remove a total of five on the four of us. Colin, my youngest, is the only one without any. I go back to the climbers to warn them.

There are hemlocks here, which I knew, but I was surprised to see that they are free of the Wolly Aldegid, an insect wiping out hemlocks throughout the East. I scan many small hemlock saplings throughout the hike, and never see a single bug.

We continue to a marsh that is said to be home of many songbirds, but we hear none. We continue on until we find the unpaved road (actually paved, but crumbling) and the grist mill. The mill is privately owned and the owners were quite friendly and invited us to look inside the old mill.

We don't linger too long and double back where we came. The text describes a fork in the trail where you head back towards route 94 just South where we entered the woods. I think we take the right path, but the trail we see does not match the description. We pass a wet part not described in the book. We make it back to the main road but it's not where we are supposed to be. There is a side road that is much further South. We turn around and go back where we came. The boys are excited to see a family riding minibikes. I rush my boys off the trail to give the riders a wide birth, but am relieved that these are courteous people and slow down for us.

We follow the path back past the marsh and I hope to cross to the correct trail just before we get to the rock wall. Without knowing it, we do leave the original trail. We hike for a short while and end up ... back at route 94 south of where we are supposed to be. Not happy. Instead of hunting for the trail again I have the boys follow 94 North until we find utility pole 35, the proper exit point. Here we cross the road to finish the last leg.

Right off the road we find the first item of interest: Uncle Owen?

Aunt Beru? Deer, actually. Notice that the head is missing. The trail then passes an old graveyard. We don't go in.

Here the text starts to scare me: "Beyond the graveyard, the going gets a little tricky, with several side paths that can be confusing." There isn't a single blaze in these woods and apparently there are way more side paths here then there were a decade ago when the book was published. It refers to a clearing and we find it with no problem. Then it says to reenter the forest at the left edge. There are many side trails everywhere except at the left edge. One side note about this clearing that Ken didn't write about: apparently the DEM uses it to dump deer roadkill. It is literally littered with bones and fur plus several articulated skeletons. It reeks of death. I don't know if it is clear but the second photo here shows a pit full of fur. My oldest was majorly creeped out by it. Can't say I blame him. He says he saw a bear print in the sand but we couldn't it again.

The boys are impatient. I turn around away from what I presume to be the path to the direction I believe the main road is only to find the pond we are to circumnavigate. We can see the car. I try to get they boys to continue around the pond, but the younger two are out of patience. There's a beaver dam visible on the other side and I wanted to see it close up, but they are finished hiking. We head back through a path Ken said "tends to be wet" and I say "is flooded and impassible". The boys go on ahead anyhow and we all end up soaking our sneakers.

We get back to the car and remove our shoes and socks. I found a couple more ticks on the way but was surprised to find no more at this point. My oldest finds one on him during the ride back and my youngest says he sees one on the middle child but I am unsure if he is serious or not. Back home during a tick check we find a huge tick attached to him. All the boys are scooted into the shower with instructions to lather up very well. When I first sit down to start this entry, I find another tick on my arm. Attached. Only the one on Evan was a dog tick. All the rest, I believe, were deer ticks.

Narragansett, near Bonnet Shores, again

2008-05-06T18:20:00.007-04:00

My plan was to hike Durfee Hill last Sunday, but the weather wasn't shaping up. Today I decide to walk out to where I saw the animal jaw and recover it. I brought a grocery bag with me. I didn't have much time, so I made a bee-line to where I saw it. Before I got there I was startled yet again by a ribbon snake. Of all the hikes I've been on I've never seen so many snakes! This one I got a close look at. A little over a foot in length. Cool.

I got to where I saw the jaw bone and I was unsurprised to find it missing. I spent a few minutes scanning there are, but to no avail. I head back to work. Just before I get to the office I realize my identification badge is missing. The holder was empty. I make a plan to retrace my steps right after work.

At work's end I drive to the old church. I walk back out to where I was before and on my return I find the jawbone. It had travelled several yards. I no longer had the bag, but I happened to find a paper towel in my pocket. I was pretty sure this was is a deer jaw. I had checked the internet earlier. I wonder what took it down? I saw coyote scat on the trail. Deer are all through this area. Deer tick central. Back in March I decided to follow a critter trail for a bit and back at the office I discovered an adult deer tick crawling on my pants. Not very comforting.

Back at my car I put the bone into the back seat. Still without my ID, I decide to walk a small piece back to the office. Halfway back I find my badge. Apparently I discovered it missing not 100 yards from where I dropped it. Go figure.

Narragansett, lunchtime walk

2008-05-01T19:35:00.008-04:00

May 1, 2008

I walk in the woods at lunchtime once or twice a week, but only some are worth writing about. These woods are not spectacular. They are nice, but far from the better walks in Rhode Island. Today I start in the woods behind the old church near the scene of the crime (read my first blog entry about that).

The weather is a bit too chilly and breezy to walk comfortably in a T-shirt, but that's what I do. The cemetery is unoccupied today, as expected, and the walk to South Ferry Road is uneventful. I cross and start on the dirt access road in order to distance myself from the URI construction noise. What I discover is that the wind whips unhindered down the wide path, so I turn into the woods at the first trail. This is a good decision. The wind is lower and the scenery is better. The Canada mayflower (Maianthemum canadense) has spread quite a bit and is even invading the footpath. I notice that the green carpet disappears deeper in the woods. I guess the ground away from the paths gets less light. Mayflower goes where it's wanted. Flower buds are starting to appear.

I stop to take a closer look at some of the other plants putting out foliage. The leaves of a shrub are opposite, that is they appear on both sides of each stem at regular intervals, rather than alternating left, right, left, like most plants. There is a handy term "madcap horse" to remember the plants with opposite leaves. MAD is an acronym for Maple, Ash, Dogwood. Cap refers to the honeysuckle family, Caprifoliaceae. Horse refers to the wonderful tree Horse-chestnut. Viburnums were once considered part of the Caprifoliaceae family but have recently moved to the Adoxaceae family. All that aside, Madcap Horse works well if you assume CAP refers to both honeysuckle and viburnums. I see two distinct shrubs with opposite leaves. One with smooth edged leaves and one with serrated leaves. I'm guessing they both are viburnums. The path cycles back onto the access road. I cross the paved road like last time and continue in the direction of Bonnet Shores.

I notice a bone fragment at the along the path. It's about a third of a lower jaw. It's old enough to have been defleshed. It's too large to be rodent or cat. The teeth are very distinctive and certainly not canine. In the absence of actual knowledge, I am guessing deer. Not keen to put body parts into my pocket, I leave it trailside. Maybe I'll come back tomorrow with a bag. I know people who know about such things.

Not twenty steps from the bone I am startled when a snake crosses the path. I try to get a close look but quickly it's in the underbrush. Was it two feet long? Three? I can't be sure. It's dark brown with light brown stripes. I assume it's a garter snake (Thamnophis sirtalis sirtalis) but the DEM web page has a good document about native snakes. A closer match is the related Eastern Ribbon Snake (Thamnophis sauritus sauritus). See http://www.dem.ri.gov/programs/bnatres/fishwild/pdf/risnakes.pdf for a great description of Rhode Island snakes.

I continue further than I had last time but I run short of time and turn around. Past where I found the bone I notice a circle of stones just off the path. Stone walls cross the area quite a bit, giving evidence of it's pastoral and agricultural past. It warrants closer inspection but there is no easy access to it. I'll investigate this later. I continue to the dirt access road, across South Ferry Road, past the old church, past the now infamous cemetery, back to work.

Great Swamp, South Kingstown

2008-04-26T01:14:00.011-04:00

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

2008-04-24T19:39:00.001-04:00

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.