Forgot my camera, so no pictures. This was an early May hike/bike.
Hiking consistently about every other weekend for four months has really helped me appreciate the change in seasons. The beauty, subtlety, and quiet, timeless power of the forest is unchanging. This was the first time that mosquitoes became something of a nuisance, that I start worrying about poison ivy and ticks.
I slept in the woods a couple nights by myself. A little spooky looking at a trio of glowing eyes staring at me. Barred owls calling. Spotted what I think was a ruffed grouse, which was a first for me. Coincidentally, it was the day after I watched The Big Year. Yes, Hollywood actually made a movie (mostly) about birding. Don't expect that again. I liked it.
Scarier still was the old arrow I found propped against my car tire when I hike the 50 yards out from my campsite in the morning. What. The. Hail. I got out of there quick, not knowing what it signified. The land is a state game area. Though it's multiple-use, it's funded by and specifically designed for hunters. Any idea what that arrow meant?
Snakes! I saw another blue racer. He was a little guy, apparently battle-worn as he had a blunted, scarred tail. As such, he could not try to scare me with a fake rattle (as the first one I saw did). He coiled right up and stared me down as I approached. Kids, don't try this at home, but I try to grab him. He bit me - lightning fast - then scrambled off. Only one little drop of blood to show, and hardly as painful as a thorn-prick. Note to self: wild animals are always faster than you. Always.
Five seconds down the trail, I saw his much bigger (and intact) cousin. Not learning my lesson, I slowly approached. He gave me the leaf-rattle warning, elongated and looking over his snake shoulder at me. I took one step closer and he sped off like his name suggests.
I'm now up to about 90 miles hiked and 50 miles biked on the North Country Trail.
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