Credit: XKCD. Blow this image up and read the middle. Exciting times indeed. It strikes me that this is a very simple, elegant example of why science education is important, and why we must maintain a public commitment to scientific exploration (read: taxpayer-funded).
170 flesh-powered miles in the last 4 months; 90 on foot and 80 on a bike
Route shown is an approximation, if you found the shortest point-to-point route on foot, which Google says is 110 miles.
Perspective is everything. Here's the same route:
This fictional route below is around 2,500 miles. If you walked 3 mph without ever stopping, you'd finish in a little over a month. Or, you could cover 75 miles / day on a bike and you'd finish in about the same time.
I hadn't planted and harvested a garden, throughout the entire season, since 2008. Sadly, I won't be around to harvest much of this one either. Although, we did plant in the same garden in Marion for four straight years.
Digging in yesterday felt like... coming back to one's religion after a time of spiritual wandering.
In my adult life, I have dug asparagus beds into the property of every house I've owned - and some I rented - even tiny urban lots and student ghettos... I suppose in those unsettled years, I was aspiring for a stability I couldn't yet purchase.
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.
April 22-23 in the Manistee National Forest. Twenty-five miles hiking in about as many hours, plus about as much biking. I like the "bike north, lock bike to tree, hike south to car, drive north, hike south to bike, repeat" method to cover as many miles as possible solo. Camping was easy (low of 32 degrees, no rain, and a very quiet night actually - just one screech owl). It was breezy, but very sunny. High in the 50s.
Hartwick Pines S.P., 2006
These public parcels were acquired after a deforestation so complete that some have called it a rape of the land. It's hard to argue that those words are too strong. There is no other way to more effectively and completely destroy this ecosystem (and thus the people who live within it). It was the 19th century lumber industry. Perhaps it's hypocritical for me to whine, as one could argue that I benefit today from the economic progress built by the sale of all that timber. But the land was not an investment, it was pillaged by companies who then sold the useless soil to families as "prime" farm land. After they all went broke, it came back to the state. It is now managed for multiple uses - recreation, hunting, timber, hiking, biking, and scientific research. One hopes that we truly learned our lesson the first time. Anyway, check out the Logging Museum at Hartwick Pines State Park, along with the insanely large pine trees there.
It was good to find a trail where I could walk for 7 straight miles (2.5-3 hrs) without even crossing a gravel road.
Sorry for the deluge of pics. The world is just too awesome to summarize.
So much easier with a road bike.
Trail maintenance never ends.
Small is beautiful.
Sunrise through the bark.
Here be woodpeckers.
Someone tell me what this is. I say it's a combination of tree excavation (the wood fiber itself) and dung. But a close look showed a lot of pellets. Could that all be dung? That whole pile? Who lives in there?![2015 update: I think a porcupine lives in there]
It's the biological equivalent of you putting up a home security sign by your front door without installing any actual security. It wards off 90% of your enemies and costs you nothing.
This next section was over 3 hikes/bikes in March/April, totaling 13.6 miles in the woods and 22 miles on two wheels.
Further north and west out of Battle Creek, you come to the Kellogg Biological Station pasture dairy center. You can watch robots milk the cows. No joke. I did. I believe the facility is even unmanned at night. I think each machine can do 60 cows, thrice daily. The set-up is also trying to maximize the cows' pasture time as well, depending on the weather/soil/alfalfa.
Even though the North Country trail was established in 1980, it's not nearly as developed as the better-known Appalachian and Pacific Crest Trails. It will take decades more to cultivate donors and volunteers, get easements from land owners, and cut and maintain trail. Until then, road connectors are a reality. So I break out my bike. Given the rural nature of trails, you'll see a lot of roads like this:
Lot's of farmers' fields, obviously. Can you spot the lone sandhill crane? I've heard or spotted these beautiful birds about every week since early March.
The trail passes through, and along, several state game areas. There was evidence here of some slaughter, but not knowing much about hunting culture and practices, I can't say whether or not what happened was legal (given that several carcasses appeared to have been gathered together and dumped right on the side of the road).
Ready to go. And yes, that's a camo IWU cap. Thanks Joey V. Wearing hunter orange because I still hear some folks in the woods firing off something or another.
Walk on.
Very large (wide) ant hill in the middle of the woods. One of some 22,000 species that I know little about.
La primavera ya esta!
Longevity. Slow persistence seems to be the way of nature.
Boardwalk for a soggy section bearing skunk cabbage.
Feb. 4-5, 22.2 miles. Overnight low 22 deg (fairly warm for the season).
This hike was courtesy of the wonderful folks of the Chief Noonday Chapter of the North Country Trail Association. We did a group hike Saturday morning Battle Creek, topping it off with lunch at Arcadia Ales. I then plodded on along the river, westward.
The trail goes through some beautiful terrain in the Fort Custer National Cemetery. The beavers have been hard at work; a good portion of the trail is on boardwalks and islands through the swamp.
It was beautiful though. Cool (but I was dressed warm), clear, quiet. I spooked several deer (as always) and the coyotes and screech owls sung me to sleep. Even though it only dipped to 22 deg. - which is quite warm for a February low - I was stupid with several small things and therefore not warm enough. Arg. It was good practice for winter camping, anyhow; for my first pitch, fate lobbed me a softball, as it were.
Wildlife: spooked a half-dozen white-tailed deer at dusk, spotted a pileated woodpecker and several sandhill cranes.
My first ride felt like what I imagine this to be: sitting down in a new Mustang after slumming around in a '91 Accord for 15 years. Ahhh..... (And what you're looking at is only last year's entry-level road bike).
Doña María tiene 45 años, es casada, actualmente esta separa de su
esposo es madre de 3 hijos, ella y sus hijos viven en el departamento
de El Paraíso en el oriente del país. Hace 7 se tiene una pequeña finca
de café que es su fuente de ingreso.
Doña María este préstamo lo invirtió en una pequeña planta solar para alumbrarse por las noches.
El impacto que tuvo fue grande ya que en su casa nunca había tenido
energía eléctrica y es hasta ahora gracias a este préstamo que pudo
obtenerla del cual se encuentra inmensamente agradecida por la felicidad
que sus hijos le demuestran porque ya tienen con que distraerse en el
día y si no realizan sus tareas en el transcurso del día las pueden
realizar por la noche también pueden ver televisión como programas
educativos.
Doña María espera que en los próximos años su finca siga creciendo para
el sustento de sus hijos y en un tiempo no muy lejano solicitar un nuevo
préstamo para mejora de su finca.
Danli, Honduras - Marzo 2012
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