One of my favorite things…
It’s that glorious time of year when the strawberry fields fill with luscious red berries. I enjoy picking a whole flat (eight quarts)… one or two to eat immediately, and the rest to freeze and enjoy the rest of the year. As it happens, this morning I finished off my supply frozen last summer – just in time to pick a new batch today.
Pam and I managed to pick two flats this year, all at their peak of ripeness. Yum!
There’s still snow in them thar hills.
Today was a glorious day – one of those blue-sky days that makes you amazed to be part of this world, especially when you are strolling above treeline along one of the most incredible mountain ranges in the northeastern United States. Three friends and I took advantage of the Memorial Day holiday to head for the Presidential Range of the White Mountains here in New Hampshire. Centered on Mount Washington, the highest peak in the northeast, most of the peaks in this range are named for U.S. Presidents and nearly the entire range is above treeline.
Today, we left one car near the western base of Mount Washington, hiked up the Ammonoosuc Ravine Trail to Lakes of the Clouds, where there is an AMC Hut, then followed the ridgeline south over Mounts Monroe, Eisenhower, and Pierce, before descending the Crawford Path to our second car in Crawford Notch. We were ably led throughout by the indomitable Karhu, who had a knack for sniffing out the right the trail and pausing whenever he reached a trail junction. We often stopped to enjoy the sunshine and nibble a snack.
We had spectacular views and occasionally crossed some of the winter’s remaining patches of snow! Check out the full photo gallery to share the views.
Continue reading “Southern Presies”Today was breezy and a bit chilly, but nonetheless a spectacular spring day. I took the opportunity to head for Mount Cube, one of my favorite nearby/short hikes. The Rivendell trail ascends quickly over the span of two miles, meeting the Appalachian Trail at Mount Cube’s granite summit. From there, there is a broad view spanning the Green Mountains of Vermont and the White Mountains of New Hampshire, and the plains of the Connecticut River valley.
Today, though, the best part of the hike was the way that spring was bursting out all over, with wildflowers blooming small and large all along the trail. Below is a trillium, in a deeply maroon color. For a few more photos, see the gallery.
Sometimes it pays to look up.
Now that the snow has mostly disappeared from my little patch of woods – ‘my’ home forest, where I like to ramble in the early mornings when I have the opportunity – it feels like there is less to see. In the the depths of winter I can wade uphill through fluffy drifts of new-fallen snow, or crunch my way through older sun-worn snow, enjoying the fresh air and the opportunity to see (quite literally) the comings and goings of the local wildlife mapped out on the terrain in the form of their footprints through the snow. So today, as I topped the ridge on a warm spring morning, the sky as blue as ever but the leaf-covered ground as bare and brown and boring as it ever can be, I thought to myself that spring is just not nearly as interesting as winter. At least, for an untrained observer like me, not accustomed to ‘reading’ the complex groundscape of leaf and twig, stone and brush. Sure, I’ve noticed the places where the local residents scratch among the leaves in search of last year’s acorns, and I’ve examined piles of scat to discern who may have been through here – or whom they’ve eaten – but it’s much harder to see what’s going on. Then, I looked up.
Continue reading “Porcupine”
It’s not over until it’s over.
You and I both know that the spring equinox arrived last Monday, but the New Hampshire weather seemed not to notice. It snowed yesterday, just a bit, and drizzled this morning. But as I looked out at the morning drizzle and 33º temperatures, I just knew it would be an all-snow event a bit higher up. So I drove to the other corner of Lyme, to those ski trails-that-shall-not-be-named, and stepped out into fresh powder.
As it should be.
After a month of warm temperatures – often above Freezing at night, and into the 40s, 50s, during the day – and the nearby forest floor had melted nearly clear of snow, I was glad to see winter conditions finally return. We had 6″ of fresh powder snow on Thursday. Sure, it was topped by an hour or two of sleet, but the woods felt properly wintry this morning as I climbed my usual route to the hilltop, stopping only briefly to explore the fresh tracks left by the hillside residents, leaving my own track to mark the day.
At the top of the hill the morning quiet was punctuated by a busy woodpecker, hopping from tree to tree to seek his breakfast.
It’s been six months, old friend.
For various reasons, I have not had a chance to hike any Big mountains for many months, but was eagerly looking for a day when the weather, my schedule, and my friends would all converge. Today was that day – beautiful blue skies, crisp temperatures, and decent trail conditions. We followed the Glencliff Trail – which is part of the Appalachian Trail – up Mount Moosilauke. This is my favorite winter approach; despite it having the greatest elevation gain of any approach to the summit, it is the shortest approach in winter and allows one to traverse the beautiful ridgeline between south and north peak.
Sorry guys.
When we noticed in one car a cloth that had been chewed into fuzz – and in another car some snacks that had been nibbled – we realized the smallest residents of our garage were brazenly exploring the interior of our cars and decided something needed to be done. So we borrowed a small plastic trap, loaded it with cheese, placed it near the woodpile, and… bang! within a couple of hours we’d caught our first mouse.
I put the trap in the car, drove it down the road a few miles, and gently dropped the mouse off in a remote area. I returned and set the trap again.
The next morning, another mouse was shivering inside the trap. I dropped it off on the way to work.
The next morning, a third mouse, pictured above, was waiting in the trap. I dropped it off, close to the second – perhaps it will reunite with its family.
It’s not an easy time of year to relocate – being winter and all – but maybe this is better than sending our cat to spend a night in the garage!
Whooo?
Early this morning I headed out for my morning walk – which recently has included a steep hike up the hill behind our house, bushwhacking through the snowy forest. The sun was coming up, and as I walked across the street and entered the woods I noted a pinkish glow along the horizon to the west and north… although, with this hill to the east, the woods were still in the morning’s dim early light. I made it less than 50m into the woods, starting up the slope and thinking I might revisit the spot where I so often see fox tracks, when a barred owl swept silently past me, its talons clutching its breakfast catch. It landed on the branch of a nearby pine tree.
Darn! I had no camera with me today, although on my Tuesday outing I had carried a full complement of camera gear only to see nothing of interest. I hesitated, then ran back home to fetch my Canon R5 with its 100-500mm lens. Within five minutes I was back, and the friendly owl was still there, posing patiently. I experimented with different positions and different exposures – the light was still low – and the above photo was the result.
Noting that he was facing away from me, swiveling his head to look in my direction, I decided to walk around to the other side to perhaps capture a view from the front… but my efforts to crunch through the old snow in that direction apparently convinced him it was time to leave, and he flew off. I look forward to seeing him again someday!
Our wild neighbors.
Another snowstorm, on Sunday through Monday, left about 6-8″ of fresh, powdery snow across the fields and forests around us. On Monday morning I headed across the street and into the forest behind the house, as I have done so often over the years, bushwhacking up the steep hill through the woods. The forest is relatively young and open, having been logged periodically and well managed for a variety of species – pine, fir, hemlock, oak, maple, and more. I enjoy rambling through these woods, following the fading trails left by loggers, especially in winter – because the snow exposes stories of the wildlife that live here. It’s hard to see in the photo below, but the deer walked this path earlier than me, this morning.
David Kotz 