A special crosscut returns to service.

EE5115FA-5804-4E6E-A8B1-75809FB250D8_1_201_aShenandoah National Park, Sunday, May 31 – Jim Grant was my grandfather.  He’s been gone for 42 years, but he lived again today.  No, Mr. Grant wasn’t reincarnated in the flesh.  His memory reawakened in the form of a newly restored four-foot crosscut saw he once owned.

It was there to tackle a huge blowdown on the Little Devils Stairs trail.  The objective was a long dead, 26-inch, double trunk tulip poplar.  Venus Foshay, my fellow Hoodlum trail crew member is responsible for that trail and she requested reinforcements.  Sam Keener and I answered her call.

Following our safety discussion, my grandpa’s precious saw bounced lightly on my shoulder as we headed down the Keyser Run fire road to the intersection with Little Devels Stairs.  Along the way, I thought deeply about what my grandfather meant to me.

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Me with my grandpa.

I imagined my grandfather hoisting that very same blade to his slender right shoulder.

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It would have rested on his black-and-red-checked Filson Mackinaw coat, steadied by is work-gnarled hands swaddled in his trademark deerskin mittens with the green woolen liners that I still have.

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The blowdown was a monster.

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The smaller trunk was broken off and offered an easy bottom bind cut.

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Sam won the trophy photo.

The larger trunk presented tricky top bind for a crosscut saw.  It would require two cuts.  Normally you can make reverse keystone cuts and roll the billet out of the middle.  In this case the proximity and angle of the root ball would force the billet to bind.  We knew we were in for an “Oh joy!” day.

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After amputating the smaller trunk, we applied muscle to the larger one.  To maintain safe social distance we used the saw in single sawyer mode and rotated as our arms tired.

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I have at least 10 wedges in my car.  I only brought three because the tree was site unseen.  We had to be creative to keep the kerf open.

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We sawed from both sides to keep the cut level.

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The “easy” part was over.  This is where the real battle began.  We thought we could lever out the billet with a log.  WRONG!

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While Venus hiked and drove back to the Piney River tool cache to get a couple of rock bars, Sam and I hiked to the bottom of the trail to clear a second blowdown.

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Social distancing was a problem all day.

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Little Devils Stairs is one of Shenandoah’s picture book hikes featuring several waterfalls, many creek crossing and lots of rugged scrambling.  She’s on the trail, by the way.  With this many rocks, I’m befuddled why the AT wasn’t routed through this canyon.

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Rock bars are all about brute force and ignorance.  It’s all muscle.

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Almost there.

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Success!

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Sam’s look says it all.  Thank heaven she’s a power lifter.

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Victory.  All that for this.

_____________________

Here’s the backstory.

I thought all of my grandfather’s tools and gear were lost to history.  Family legend was that my mother sold everything when she moved her elderly parents from International Falls, Minn. to her home in Greeley, Colo.

Last October.  Location:  My brother’s garage in Loveland, Colo.

Me.  “Wow!  A crosscut saw.  Where’d you get that?”

Brother.  “That was grandpa’s saw.”

Me.  “I thought mom sold all of his stuff when she moved grandma and grandpa out here.”

Brother.  “Not this.”

Me.  “What do you plan to do with it?”

Brother.  “I was going to hang it on the wall.”

Me.  “No way.  I could use it.  I have a friend who restores old crosscut saws.  I’ll ask him to fix this up and I’ll put it to work clearing trails.  Grandpa would like that.”

Brother.  “Ok.”

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Me.  “I’ll make a box and ship it today.  Where’s the nearest UPS store?”  The truth is that I wanted to get it out of there before he could change his mind.

The story added a new chapter today.  But, where did it begin?

_____________________

James Grand circa 1920

International Falls, MN circa 1920.

Who was Jim Grant?

James Earl Grant was my namesake.  Growing up, he was “Big Jim” and I was “Little Jim.”

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Favorite fishing rock.  My brothers and I have caught a lot of walleye there.

Jim Grant was a lumberjack, teamster and avid fisherman who immigrated from Alberta, Canada to International Falls, Minn. to cut trees for the Minnesota and Ontario paper company, now Boise-Cascade.  We’re not sure when.

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Born in 1900, Jim Grant was a good and kind man who had lived his life well. A third-grade education limited his opportunities, but he worked hard and made the most of those that came his way. He lived to be 78 before succumbing to prostate cancer.

In reality Grant was my mother’s stepfather.  He had once asked my grandmother to marry him, but she declined and later said yes to another man, also a Canadian.  Her husband, John Wesley Jordan, died at age 30 of kidney failure in 1930 as the Great Depression sunk its jaws into the Northern Minnesota economy.  In those days there was no safety net.  She was 30 with three children and they struggled.

After arriving in International Falls with his two brothers, Walker and Clarence, Jim Grant cut and skidded pulp wood in Minnesota’s north woods until he was drafted in WWII.  In the war, his age and lack of education led to work as a hospital orderly making beds and emptying bedpans at Camp Carson, Colo.

He loved Colorado and regaled me in childhood with stories of his Rocky Mountain adventures and tall tales of ghost towns like Cripple Creek.  Later on when I was stationed at that very same Army post, the first place I went was Cripple Creek where I imagined his stories playing out among the mining relics.

Fortunately Jim Grant was a patient soul who truly loved my Grandmother.  When he returned from his WWII service, he proposed a second time to my widowed grandmother and she accepted.  He never could have become my hero without that unfortunate chain of events.

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After the war, he purchased the saw I now have.  It is a Simonds Crescent-Ground, One-Man Crosscut Saw model 223.  The aux handle can be moved to the far end allowing for two-person use.

I found the saw in excellent condition, still sharp with very little surface rust.  It wasn’t used enough to completely erase its factory markings which is how we know the model and approximately when it was made in Fitchburg, Mass.

Link to Simonds Saw Catalog

The catalog says that this saw “will stay sharp longer than any one-man saw made.”  It also notes “Large hand hole in handle permits sawing with mittens or gloves in cold weather.”  That would have been practical because most of the timbering was done in winter when the lakes and dirt logging roads were frozen solid.

The light usage suggests he didn’t do much lumberjacking after the war.  We know that he found less strenuous employment on the papermill loading dock where he worked until retirement in 1965.  Thanks to a strong union, he had earned health insurance and a modest pension that he and my grandmother could live on in their own home for the rest of their lives.

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Today Jim Grant’s Simonds model 223 was reborn as a working tool in Shenandoah National Park.  When my time ends it will pass to the Potomac Appalachian Trail Club where it will enjoy a long and noble life thanks to, and in memory of, James Earl Grant, lumberjack.

Sisu

 

 

 

We’re back at Annapolis Rock!

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Annapolis Rock, Maryland, Saturday, May 20, 2020 — We’re back!  Today we set up the caretaker camp – pitched the tent and strung the tarps – at Annapolis Rock.  In a normal year, this is the first ritual of the season. Obviously this year is different.

The long-season Maryland ridgreunner is the first to start on April Fools Day and the last to finish on Halloween.  Aptly chosen dates once one experiences what happens in between, from naivete to the spirits of the dark side.  It’s a long season with all that the full range of human behavior has to offer.

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Putting together this camp is one of my favorite ways to bond with a ridgerunner.  Most years I spend up to four days there working on OJT and otherwise coaching them on how to manage the site.  Stringing ropes and setting up tents isn’t fun wearing a mask.

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We start with the tent, an REI Big House generously donated by the co-op.

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It’s always somewhat of a mystery.  We read and reread the directions for each step.

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We put a sun tarp over the tent and fly so shade it from the UV so it will last a little longer.  We average four years/tent.

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“Ok.  How do I organize all the stuff in this tool box?

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Done.  Tarp strung over the picnic table.  We’re an all weather operation now.

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Some noobs left us a present at the picnic table.  Really.  You can’t put it in your pocket and carry it out?

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Social distancing at the overlook was “iffy” at best.  We’re not in the public health business.  Hiking is an “at risk” activity.  It’s also a pass/fail IQ test.  Have at it.

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I love irony.  The Annapolis Rock trailhead parking on Rt. 40 was recently expanded.  In return, the busy highway’s shoulders became no parking zones.  The Maryland State Trooper in the circle had more than 30 tickets to write.  Yes!

Tomorrow my grandfather’s crosscut saw sees action for the first time since the 1940s.  We’ll be tackling some large blowdowns in Shenandoah National Park with this priceless, to me, artifact that has been passed down by my personal hero.  Stay tuned.

Sisu

 

Shenandoah. At last!

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Shenandoah National Park, Virginia. May 27, 2020 — The park is open, sort of.  Skyline Drive, the 105-mile-long ribbon of a road that curls along the crest of the Blue Ridge, is open for traffic.

With the exception of a small number of public restrooms, all other facilities are closed including campgrounds.   The trails, except the most popular trails where social distance can’t be maintained, are welcoming footprints.  The huts/shelters remain off limits for use.

This limited opening makes sense.  Reports say the primary means of COVID-19 is respiratory droplets inhaled when people congregate in small spaces.

Imagine up to a dozen people sleeping in an AT shelter with one of them who arrives late in the evening, asymptomatic with corona virus, infecting those sleeping nearby.   The same logic applies to crowded communal picnic tables and for visitor centers.

The good news is this. After nearly three months, volunteers may now return.  For awhile I thought the most useless card in my wallet was my dormant Shenandoah volunteer pass.

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On Saturday the entry stations opened and we were turned on again.  Fearing a Black Friday-like run on the park, most of us opted to pass on the weekend.  I chose Wednesday to return because I was committed Monday and Tuesday, and heavy rains are forecast for Thursday, Friday and early Saturday, a day on which I am unavailable.

Saturday the Maryland ridgerunner and I will be pitching the caretaker tent and stringing the rain tarps at Annapolis Rock.  It is always a more sane exercise in better weather.  This annual ritual is two months late, delayed by the pandemic.

Back to the park.

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Ready to crank on a foggy day.  The aggressive weeding of previous years has retarded the growth of jewel weed which is the bane of string trimmers.  The width of the corridor is needed because certain briars can grow a foot per week and the width buys me time to return before the trail is impeded.

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Eight hours later.

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Just around the corner.  When you’re running a string trimmer, your head is usually down.  You’re wearing a helmet with face shield which further impedes vision.  Then you look up.

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Black birch is easily dispatched with a folding saw.

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The aesthetics were amazing.  Wild azalea blooming.  The laurel will start soon.

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The tall grasses grow quickly.  People often ask why we remove the weeds and make such a racket in the process.  The answer is simple, Lyme Disease.

Animals use the hiking trails to get around just like people do.  The mammals such as deer, bear, coyotes, squirrels, and rabbits pick up ticks which drop when engorged.  Their babies instinctively crawl up on the vegetation to seek a host of their own.

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Remove the vector.  Reduce Lyme disease risk.  Mowing tall grass reminded me of harvesting wheat.  Weeding is arguably the least enjoyable, but probably the most important task trail maintainers do.

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Just over the hill from the last photo.

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Trusty Silky Big Boy 2000 saw to the rescue.  I thought about coming back dragging a chainsaw for this one, but for one, it would be a long carry for two minutes work – literally a long climb for a short slide.

Secondly, we’re going to attack a large blowdown at the bottom of Little Devils Stairs Sunday using a crosscut saw that is special because it once belonged to my grandfather.  Not sure there would be enough time or energy left over when we’re done to climb half way up Compton Peak to make, honestly, thirty seconds worth of noise.

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I always check the campsite above the spring on Compton.  It’s now official.  The park trail crews have been defining its perimeter with logs to help contain the site and limit spreading.

People are inherently predictable.  Anyone who has been a ridgerunner can tell you where you’re going to find the TP.

Speaking of ridgerunners, they were defunded in the park this year because thru hiking was discouraged and park gate receipts were dramatically down.  Tuesday and Wednesday a fellow maintainer and I counted 14 thru hikers.  The noobs are making a mess.  Help!

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There’s a reason I always carry potty trowel.  All told I buried two deposits this trip.  As previously reported, there are more noobs in the woods now and it shows.

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Long day.  Sweaty and tired.  The COVID beard is coming along.  String trimmers turn the weeds, which include poison ivy, into pesto.  I’m coated with it.  Time to get a shower.

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Spring in the park is awesome!  Did I say I love this job?

Sisu

 

 

 

Sheltering at home.

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Good ole Zoom.

Sheltering at Home, May 9, 2020 – We are under a freeze watch from the National Weather Service.  Believe it or not, I’d rather be sleeping in my tent.  Why not?  There’s no baseball to watch, no WNBA, and the news is not optimistic from a pandemic perspective.  Better to be backpacking somewhere far away from it all.

Mostly sheltering at home is just that, staying home.  Going to the grocery and drug stores are about all there is in an age of gas mileage measured in weeks per gallon. The exception is when I can spend a day with the ridgerunner.  Otherwise committee work, staying fit, and the honey do list fight for attention.  Some days you drag your feet in fear of running out of things to do.

The trails will open as soon as we can figure out how to help hikers and maintainers stay safe.  That is the mission of the Adaptive Recovery Task Force.  We won’t be back tomorrow, but it won’t be forever either.

The three ridgerunners we planned to hire this year were going to be my salvation.  They could keep me busy and on the trail.

Unfortunately Shenandoah National Park is $millions short on its gate receipts and the ridgerunner and other seasonal employees have become casualties in the war to make up for the shortfall.  The park will eventually open, but without a full complement of seasonal workers.

We also did not receive the full grant we’d hoped would fund the ridgerunner in Northern Virginia.   Sadly, Witt will not grace our ranks this season.  That leaves Wes as the sole survivor.  He’ll be patrolling Maryland through October.

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Trail Patrol Executive Committee Meeting.

Sometimes Zoom is fun.

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Sam and I have started virtual training sessions.  This is my view.

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This is Sam’s view of the gym I made in the corner in the basement where I store my camping gear.  She can coach my form and push me on workouts.  Most importantly, she gets paid.

I decided to move my office out of a spare bedroom that doubles as a sewing room.

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At this point, disassembly was well underway.  The desk and bookshelves look better than they really are.  This installation was really designed for a school kid.  Too narrow and not nearly enough room for an adult to spread out.

Assembling the new desk and attaching it to the wall wasn’t difficult.

 

E5A8F219-E42A-4C04-B0B8-460DE209839BThe Ikea drawer set appeared to be something else.

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Thank you Ikea.

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Coffee and Girl Scout cookies are stress reducers.  I was planning to eat the full sleeve.  After all, that’s a single serving.

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Turns out it wasn’t a big deal.  A half of a cookie sleeve was left over for the next project.  The ring light is for Zoom calls.

Meanwhile I’m looking for another reason to hike with our ridgerunner.

Sisu

 

 

Earth Day Hike

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The Maryland ridgerunner’s Earth Day view of Greenbriar Lake.

Appalachian Trail Maryland, April 22, 2020 — “Love your Mother!” captained one of the earlier Earth Day Posters I can remember.  The admonition still applies, though one could easily argue we haven’t been doing such a good job of it.  If nothing else, the recent smog-free views taken of and in cities around the world offer evidence that we can do a better job of taking care of planet earth.

Love your mother

On the first Earth Day in 1970 I was an Army lieutenant stationed at Fort Benning, Ga.  I was way too busy to take much notice.

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I figured that the Hippies of that era existed to protest.  At the time, anti-Vietnam war protests were beginning to wain.  I reasoned that they needed a new subject and the environment was it.

I obviously wasn’t spending a lot of time thinking sophisticated thoughts then.  I was simply trying to do my best at the hardest job I’d ever had.

Earth Day was on my mind when I picked today for my weekly sojourn with Wes.  The pandemic we are experiencing has been tied to climate change and to other things Earth Day exists to bring to our attention.

I like to walk with Wes about once per week.  We’re not camping this year, so I haven’t had as much OJT time as usual.  Given the mandate to shelter at home, Earth Day seemed appropriate.

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We wore cloth masks while hiking.

We met a little before 10 a.m. at our destination, donned our N-95 masks, and shuttled to the start point at the Thurston Griggs trailhead.  This easy side trail connects to the AT at the Pogo campsite.

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Black birch blocking the trail.  “This is why we give you a saw.”

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Oh oh!  This one’s a little bigger.

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I have a sixteen inch folding saw, so we decided to take off the upper branch.  That would make this blowdown easier to step over.  The trunk obviously requires a chainsaw.

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We took turns.  Physical labor with a mask on isn’t fun.  Can’t wait for July – not!

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Now to dispose of the log.

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Finished job.

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A group of sorority sisters not practicing safe social distance at Black Rock.  Sometimes people think the rules of reality are suspended when they are out in nature.

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In the woods violets are flowers.  In your yard, they are weeds.  I like them as flowers.

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We counted 62 day hikers including three climbers.

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Common!

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This is under a no fire sign.  People do thoughtless things.  Fires sterilize the soil so it’s years before vegetation returns.  The fire scar is ugly.  One of the ridgerunners removed the soot from the rock with Elephant Snot a couple of years ago.  It appears no fires since.  That’s good news.

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Checked the caretaker site and hoovered some micro trash from under the picnic table.

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We were happy to clean up our mother’s backyard.  Couldn’t think of a better thing to do on this auspicious 50th Earth Day.

Sisu

 

If you can’t hike…

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Ash on the left.  Silver Maple on the right.

Kensington, Maryland, Winter, 2020 — The theme of these essays is hiking, backpacking, camping adventures, and a behind the scenes peek at the volunteers and activities that make it all possible.

What to write?  Planning is underway for the time when hikers might return to the trail. It’s dry, dull, iterative, and not very visual unless you relish Zoom call screen shots.  Moreover, it’s pointless to reveal what’s on order until we have a menu.  Why?  Because the truth is going to change six times between now and then.

Sometimes what happens in the wild forests also occurs in the so called urban forest.  Let’s talk about that and see what happens.

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The backyard was landscaped in 1978.  The ash (in front) was planted then.  The silver maple (background) is a sucker that grew from an earlier silver maple, probably planted in the 1950s.

Virtues?  Ash trees are frequently planted as shade trees.  Their wood is prized for baseball bats.  Trail maintainers like them for their rot resistance when used for waterbars and other structures on the trail.

Silver maples are not valued as much.  They are fast-growing junk trees with brittle wood and shallow roots.  They will give you quick shade, but they are subject to snow, ice and wind damage.

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Unfortunately, the ash is about to join the chestnut, elm, and hemlock on the endangered list.

The culprit is the emerald ash borer, an Asian import that is destroying ash trees throughout north America.  Our county has removed all ash trees on public property in hopes of slowing the borer’s progress.

The ash on the right was treated with systemic insecticide for the past two years.  It succumbed in September when its leaves all turned brown and curled up on the branches without falling.

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There was some blonding higher up on the trunk which was another hint.

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The choice was to wait for the ash to eventually fall down and risk crushing the deck, or launch a preemptive strike to speed up nature’s process.

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A tree service did the work if for no other reason than they could haul the slash away and grind the stumps.

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What to do with the space?  The 40+ year-old timbers are rotting.  The space is too ugly to leave be.

Here’s where the hiking and camping experience come in.  Everybody likes a campfire.  Me too.  Let the work begin.

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I was stunned by the number of roots they had to dig out.  Glad I didn’t try to do this as a DYI project.  I will admit that I thought about it.

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Taking shape.  Note the logs stacked in the background.  They are the best parts of the ash and maple.  In a year they will be seasoned firewood, ready for splitting.

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The stone veneer is not “lick and stick.”

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Finished product.  The dry creeks fix a long standing water runoff problem.  With all the trees around, there’s plenty of dead fall to be burned including larger limbs.

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Can’t wait until people can come over.  Gang of Four, you’re first.

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I’m staying in practice.  One of the dogwoods in front also died.  Yesterday I felled it and built a sawbuck that will be needed to buck the ash and maple next year.

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Since I had my PPE on, I could not resist the chance to convert some gasoline into noise.  Insider tip:  The big chips composing the saw dust indicate the chain is sharp.

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Plants go in after the last frost date.  Can’t wait for the first fire.  The yard seems a lot larger too.

Have chainsaw.  Will travel.

Sisu

 

Spring cleaning delayed.

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Home, April 14, 2020 — As the debate about when America can go back to work stutters along, I’ve been wondering when trail maintainers can start digging dirt again.  We want to work too. Time’s a wasting.

I am under no illusion that someone is going to flip a magic switch and the world will shift from black and white to living color regardless of the political pyrotechnics.  The virus doesn’t care.

Until there is an effective vaccine, COVID-19 can be a potentially mortal threat to anyone who catches it. Respect alone for this potential will certainly cause some people to avoid crowds and certain public places.

Nevertheless, at some point the parks and trails will reopen to the public. People think they’re far from others when they are in the woods as if civilization can’t follow them there.  It’s an attractive illusion, so they’ll be back.

For one, I’d like to have the trails safe and ready when they come.

Fall

The problem is that the trail you tidy up in the fall …

Spring

… looks very different in the spring.

Between now and when the people come back, nature will be hard at work.  Spring has sprung and the weeds are growing.  It won’t be long before they take over the joint unless they are cut back.

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Why worry about weeds?  They are the way ticks carrying Lyme disease get to hikers.  Lyme disease or COVID-19?  Each is ugly in its own way.

Weeds are only one of the jobs that need to be done in the spring.

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The tread itself needs maintenance.  Water control structures silt up or rot over the winter.  A bear destroyed this one.  This waterbar has to be cleaned and rebuilt.  It’s clear from the detritus that it’s no longer effective.

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Blowdowns also have to be cleared.

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We’ve has several howling windstorms recently which increase the probability of finding blown down branches as well as tree trunks.

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Everyone I know is itching to get a jump on spring maintenance before hikers return.  Trail maintainers like nothing better than packing up for an honest day’s work, although I despise the two-hour drive each way.

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The tool caches are ready.  With the people gone, we could get a lot done when it’s easy to maintain safe social distance.  Maintainers in our area are spread about one to two miles apart.

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But, like they say, the trail will be there when the time comes. True dat.  Meanwhile, I’m on the bench yelling, “Put me in coach!”  Where’s coach?  He’s sheltering at home just like the rest of us.

Sisu

 

2020 continues to disappoint.

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Appalachian Trail, April 12, 2020 — The Appalachian Trail is closed to thru hiking with no camping or facility use allowed now on any federally owned land and in multiple states.

People everywhere, who are in effect under house arrest, have been paroled by governmental authorities to do just two things – go to the grocery store and exercise. Tens of thousands naturally swarmed the hiking trails, especially the signature locations – the ones that make every top ten list.

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McAfee Knob, VA.  Courtesy Creative Commons

This is McAfee Knob, near Salem, VA.  It is probably the most iconic spot on the AT.  Imagine this space mobbed with 150 people instead of the 13 in this photo.  The flash mobs happened here and nearly every other popular hiking trail and overlook along the trail.

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Annapolis Rock is another tiny beauty spot that is often overcrowded, especially in a time of safe social distance.

Ultimately hikers were unable to maintain safe social distance forcing the Appalachian Trail Conservancy which manages the trail for the National Park Service, and the National Park Service AT office, to ask for and receive permission to close federally owned land.

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At nearly the same time, the national parks through which the AT passes closed themselves to the public for the same reason.

As all of this unfolded, most thru hikers took heed and suspended their hikes, their life-long dreams dashed like glass bottles thrown on the rocks.

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Thru hiking is not a casual endeavor.  Many take years to save enough money, buy their gear and find six months they can spend on the trail.

To have it unexpectedly end for reasons far beyond their control is a personal tragedy. Many will never get another chance.  Others will resort to section hikes over many years. The lucky ones will rebound next year for a second crack.

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A few hikers are pressing on in spite of warnings that they may help spread the virus, in spite of learning that some of the small rural towns aren’t welcoming them, knowing full well that medical care in rural Appalachia is barely available on a good day, and in spite of ATC policy not to record them as thru hikers.

These hikers been criticized as selfish and self-centered.  Some may be.  But thru hiking isn’t a mean feat.  It’s more like an Olympic class athletic event.  The hike itself has to be the most important goal in your life at that time with a focus that cuts steel like a laser.  It is do or die.  For someone in that state of mind, it has to be hard to throw in the towel.

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There also are international hikers who, for a raft of reasons, can’t get home until their visas expire.  Rural transportation networks are rickety with reduced service.  Some want to shelter in town “until this blows over.”  They plan to continue when the AT and national parks reopen to the public.

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Normally by now, the caretaker’s tent is pitched on the platform and there’s a tarp over the picnic table.  This year it’s possible that may never happen.  Depending on circumstances, it might not happen next year either.

If you left the trail, there’s good news and bad news.

In the good news category, your gear will still be good next year and for years to come.

You now have an idea what a thru hike is all about, especially those who made it a few hundred miles.

You probably still have the bulk of the money you saved for your hike.

You can stay in physical condition and even get stronger.  You’ve got a much better idea of what it takes.

The bad news is finding the time a second year in a row.

Worse, with the economy in suspended animation, far too many may have problems finding work.  They may have to burn through their AT nest egg just to survive.

The trail infrastructure is likely to drastically change.  Hostels are fragile businesses with thin margins. They needed the cash from this season to make it through next winter.

Me.  I’d take it one step, one day, one week, one month at a time.  We will eventually hike on.

Sisu

 

Hiking the neighborhood

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Mile 3 of 30 on the Rock Creek Trail

Kensington, MD, April 4, 2020 —  Some people in the burbs never thought they’d actually live there.  For them, home is a place where you sleep and store your stuff.  You work, play, socialize, and vacation elsewhere – at a resort, their beach house or a “camp” in Maine.

Now that the entire country is on an extended stay-cation, folks are finding out if their ‘hood is good.

Until recently, we have had a few neighbors we’ve never seen.  They’ve avoided the mundane stuff of suburban life. Other people cut their grass, plant their flowers and clean their houses.  Maids even put out their trash and exercise their yellow labs.

Since the advent of COVID neighborhood arrest, they’ve been out sniffing flowers and wearing out their tenderfooted dogs. In some ways it’s fun to watch.  We even made a rare sighting of our U.S. senator who lives on the next block.

We first moved into this neighborhood in 1985.  At that time I was a competitive distance runner and needed routes to run that were long and safe from traffic.  This was/is best place to run and walk in all of Washington IMHO.

These days this hike-a-holic is on the neighborhood wagon. It’s a good ride with plenty variety and room to roam.  Here’s a five-mile sample.

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The hood is full of small libraries.  The first was designed a built by a 10-year-old girl with very little help from her dad.  It’s not this one.

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Folks decorate their trees.

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One of more than 70 LDS temples in the U.S.  Can’t tell you how dramatic it is at night.  Nearby graffiti used to say, “Free Dorothy!”

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Vernal pool.

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Cat tails ready to regenerate.

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Turn toward the temple.  Right at the For Sale sign.

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Lots of kids.

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American cherry trees are blooming everywhere.

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Woah!  A bear!  Note that it’s on a leash.

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Kensington, like its English namesake, is noted for its gardens and playgrounds.  Unfortunately the equipment is a COVID vector and accordingly is off limits.

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The parks are named for the people who cared for them, most for decades.

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The farmer’s market was open, but sparsely attended compared to normal.  That is the original 1894 railroad station where the train still stops.

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This is a cosmopolitan international area.  Earlier I passed the Hungarian ambassador’s house.

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This has been a children’s library for more than 125 years.

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No.  The rabbi isn’t buried there.  The town is full of tributes to its prominent citizens.

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Silver Creek.  Earth Day was conceived a couple of blocks from this site.  Sen. Gaylord Nelson founded Earth Day.  His wife still lives in their house.

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We tried to name this new middle school after Sen. Nelson. Silver Creek won out.

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What’s a hike without a fire?  The ash tree that used to live here was murdered by emerald ash borers.  Left with a giant hole in the ground, a stay-cation-ready replacement was in order.

I usually walk early to avoid the herds that self-generate as the day matures.

Wanna buy a house?

Sisu

 

 

 

The Maryland ridgerunner starts.

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Washington Monument State Park, Maryland, April 1, 2020, — It’s that time of the year when mid-Atlantic ridgerunners begin their seasons, but how times have changed.  This year we’re in the middle of a global pandemic.  That changes everything we do.

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The new reality is grim.  Safe social distance is the only way we can reduce the rate of infection so that our hospitals are not overrun with patients requiring critical care.

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Annapolis Rock, Maryland.  Greenbriar lake in the distance.

The popular trails are overcrowded to the degree that hikers are at risk; especially so at the signature locations.  Most of them are relatively small sites and visitors are incapable of maintaining appropriate social distance from one another.

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Wes’s orientation at social distance.

The club, after much deliberation, honored the Maryland Park Service’s request to hire one ridgerunner for the April – October season.  Normally we have two in Maryland, a second one for a shorter season from Memorial Day – Labor Day.  This year the Conservancy withdrew its share of funding, so the club and the state of Maryland could only afford to pay one.

Collectively we are concerned that if we withdraw from the trail we will not know what’s going on.  Even if hikers are banned, people will still be out there.

Our first principle is to keep the ridgerunner safe.  Among other factors considered, we learned that, with the enormous noro virus outbreaks over the previous several years, not one ridgerunner has ever been infected.

Since the virility and vectors of transmission are similar, we reasoned the ridgerunners could keep themselves safe by observing the proper protocols.  The ridgerunner also lives alone.  No one is to enter his apartment until the state gives the all clear.  He has a N-95 mask and gloves.  Moreover, he will not sleep in the field until the governor lifts his ban.

Even the uniform has changed.  No AT ridgerunner patches or hats.  Only PATC livery.

To sum it up, normally we hire six ridgerunners.  This year we plan three.  One in Maryland, one in Northern Virginia and one in Shenandoah, if and when the park brings on its seasonal employees.  Already the season’s start has shifted from April 8 to May 10 at the earliest.  Should the park close, it might not reopen in time to have a season.

The good news is that there are fewer hikers on the trails.  On March 23 Tina and I hiked this section and the lot was full.  On April one, it was empty.  On our first hike to Annapolis Rock we counted less than half the number on March 23.

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Wes discovered the true synonym for ridgeruner is janitor.  The day started as expected.  Plenty of trash to collect along the way.  This is near Pine Knob shelter.  The tin can spells rookie.  If you pack it in, please pack it out!

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Naturally there were illegal fire rings to break up and what’s a ridgerunner without a frying pan found on the trail?

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Leave No Trace principles say take only pictures and leave only footprints.  Rock stacks are not on any list of allowable behavior that I know if.  Sometimes it’s fun to see how far you can throw them.

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We have ridgerunners to help protect the environment and property.  Not sure the sentiment here was to resist park service rules or the current federal administration.  Either way, graffiti is unwelcome.  A little  Elephant Snot  will make short work of this.

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After picking up four gallons of trash in and around Annapolis Rock, we drove to Gathland State Park to point out the back trail to the Crampton Gap shelter; then on to Weverton Cliff to end the day.

One ridgerunner on duty.

Sisu