Category: Walking

Niagara Falls Night Hike, January 2016

My 50th birthday was approaching, and I was wondering how I was going to mark a half century of living. No, make that breathing. 400 pounds was a living death, and for the past ten years I’ve been living every day. It seemed more fitting I observe and honor the decade anniversary of my life change as well as the half century of my life.

Suggestions from friends and readers on the A Taste For The Woods Facebook group ranged from the possible to the improbable. The Scandinavian skiing trip suggestion looked fascinating, but since I don’t ski yet and don’t have the time available I had to say no. Besides, my Swedish is little better than that of the celebrated Muppet chef.

Finally a friend came through. A musician had a gig in Niagara Falls, and she invited me to share her hotel room for the weekend. Despite our Platonic relationship I made the obligatory jokes about spending a weekend in Niagara Falls and drove the nine hours north.

I arrived early in the evening on Friday, January 8. Our hotel was only a few blocks from the Niagara River, so after checking in we took a night urban hike to Niagara Falls State Park.

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On a quiet night you can hear the falls from blocks away. Our first stop was at the bridge to Goat Island, just above the American Falls and the rapids called Hell’s Half Acre. The sheer volume of water in the Niagara River is what struck me.

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As we walked downstream the thunder of the falls grew louder. The clock struck nine, and from Canada fireworks lit the air. I’ve never been so honored by a nation before. Thank you, Canada!

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But the biggest treat was roaring on the other side of the barrier. Niagara Falls is iconic. But I’d never seen the cascade in person before. I am beyond impressed. Four hundred years people have been trying to do justice to the power and splendor and glory of the falls, and like everyone before I lack the right words.

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I was quiet on the walk back to the hotel. How could I talk after such an experience? As our footsteps echoed on the wet pavement I couldn’t help but be thankful for the changes I made ten years ago. Not only did I give myself a longer life, I gave myself a better one too. In 2005 if I’d had the energy to walk to the falls I’d not have had the desire. As a super obese person I didn’t even consider the outdoors was for me. Now I know it’s for everyone. And such wonders as Niagara are mine too.

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Florida Journal: Volusia County Sugar Mill Ruins

Everybody does something for a living. Pennsylvania had iron forges. Florida had sugar mills. And I spent an afternoon exploring two of them with Sayre Kulp.

Our first stop was in New Smyrna Beach, at what the Volusia County website simply calls “Sugar mill ruins.” The site on 600 Mission Drive consists of the ruins, historical markers, and a nature trail of a fifth of a mile.Access to the site is free.

Sugar mill ruins from the Nature Trail.

I walked the trail, which was both my first taste of the Florida woods and the woods first taste of me.

“Ouch! Something bit me Sayre!”

“That’s probably one of the midges. They live in the sand and get kicked up when you walk. Its why when I mow my lawn I wear sweatpants and sneakers, even in July.”

Forewarned, we continued on to nearby Port Orange and Dunlawton Sugar Mill Gardens. The ruins are a side attraction to a ten acre public gardens, with free admission. Like the New Smyrna ruins, this sugar mill was destroyed in the Second Seminole War, the 1835-1842 conflict between the Seminole tribe of Native Americans and the US.

But the history of the site doesn’t end there.

While Dunlawton Sugar Mill Gardens is currently owned by Volusia County and run by the non-profit Botanical Gardens of Volusia, it was previously a theme park. “Bongoland” never prospered and was as dead as the dinosaurs contained in it by the late 1950s. But like the sugar mill, the ruins of Bongoland are still around. You never know when you will encounter a dinosaur or giant sloth. In the photo below, I show my attempt at portraying stark terror at facing T Rex. In retrospect it looks more like I want to eat the dinosaur as much as it wants to eat me.

My audition for Wayne Knight’s role in the Jurassic Park remake.

The gardens and adjoining trails are about a mile of walking, and would be wonderful even without the dinosaurs.  However, my photographs of the gardens were disappointing. The light was bad and one of Florida’s rainstorms struck as we were ending our tour. So I’ll leave this post with my last photo, the rain falling on a pond, taken from a wooden bridge spanning the water.

 

 

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Florida Journal: Sand Dunes Park, New Smyrna Beach

On the afternoon of my first full day in Florida, my host Sayre Kulp led me on my first ‘hike’ in the Sunshine State. I use single quotations around the word “hike” because I’m not sure it qualifies. The definition of hike I’ve used is “a walk on uneven ground.” And there’s little uneven about Sand Dunes Park.

Hint: this is not Pennsylvania.

The main trail, or path, at Sand Dunes is a two mile boardwalk that circles the tip of the island it sits on. The path has several branches allowing beach access to both the Atlantic Ocean and the Intercoastal Waterway. The park is popular with dog walkers, and there are numerous stations to take care of the animal’s leavings. And from the cleanliness of the park its clear users pick up after their animals.

Sayre Kulp and Melody. How fitting a name for a musician’s dog.

I asked my host about the boardwalk.

“So Sayre, is the boardwalk the trail to make the park compliant with the Americans with Disabilities Act?”

“Not really. You have to remember this state is built on sand. The boardwalk is to protect the dunes from overuse.”

I noted to myself that here was a moment where environmentalism and access coincided. The boardwalks allow the differently mobile to get out and enjoy the outdoors while preserving the fragile dunes. Its a win for everyone.

The trail across the dunes.

I had a great time at Sand Dunes, and not just because of the sunshine and beach. As I wrote in my previous post, Florida is a new experience for me. But seeing the state with Sayre meant seeing my friend in a new light. For much of the time in our friendship I’ve been the experienced person, the guide. But here I was learning and experiencing anew thanks to my friend’s leadership. He was taking me through his world, not me leading him through mine. The feeling of following was odd, but after a minute I decided I liked it. And I couldn’t wait to see what Sayre, and Florida, had in store for me next.

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On A Country Road

I’ve not done a lot of exploration since my return from my vacation trip in June. Yes, there’s been some, but not much. While there are various reasons I’ve not traveled, it doesn’t mean I’m not getting outside. The world is just outside my door, and I’ve been indulging in walks.

Where isn’t terribly important. When is whenever I can fit it into my schedule. If its a place I drive to, I find a place I can park the car and walk along the road. I find churches are generally a good place to park, as they have vacant parking lots on weekdays. If I am walking before or after work, I’ll bring a change of socks and shoes. I have no need for poles, and if the walk is short enough I don’t need to bring water.

I walked as a child. And I walked everywhere. Walking, especially on a road, isn’t done any more. It should be. Yes, I know there’s more auto traffic now than four decades ago, but its not especially dangerous. As a child I learned to walk facing traffic on the shoulder, and in places where the shoulder is narrow or non-existent I walked on the edge of the traffic lane. If a car needed space I stepped onto the grass next to the road. The rules haven’t changed. Fortunately most country roads are low traffic, which makes encounters with cars infrequent. And if there’s a sidewalk, I’ll walk on that.

The pleasures of a walk in the country are different than a hike in the woods. The animals are more likely to be domesticated and fenced. The surface is pavement. I pass buildings instead of boulders. But its a chance to look at a world you never notice traveling at 45 MPH in a metal and plastic box. I feel the sun on my face, or see it set. I feel my body in movement. And I am part of the environment, not passing through it. I’m part of the scene below, a scene I’d never have noticed before the wheel of my car.

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Blobfest, Phoenixville, PA, July 2012

In March 2012 I underwent a bilateral knee replacement procedure that not only replaced my damaged and arthritic knees but corrected my severe knock-kneed condition. Recovery was going well until I developed a pulmonary embolism that nearly killed me. My becoming active again was a long struggle, delayed by the drug routine I was on and having to relearn how to walk. But I grew in strength and stamina gradually, and by July I was looking for places to walk and hike that would challenge me but not push me too far. I found one such occasion in Blobfest.

The Blob is a 1958 science fiction and horror film about a Jello-like creature from outer space that terrorizes the small town of Downingtown, Pennsylvania. The movie was shot in Downingtown,Valley Forge, Phoenixville, Royerford, and surrounding towns on a shoestring budget, and the lead actor, an unknown named Steve McQueen, took the part for next to nothing because he needed rent money. The iconic scene in the film is when the creature invades Phoenixville’s Colonial Theater and the audience runs out screaming.

Move forward 40 years and Phoenixville is a dead town. The steel plant closed, half the businesses on Bridge Street are gone, and the Colonial is shuttered. A group of civic leaders and businessfolk come up with a plan to revitalize the downtown, and restoring the 95 year old Colonial is at the heart of it. And to celebrate Phoenixville’s greatest moment in film history, the idea of Blobfest was created…. a dozen years later the Colonial is restored to its 50s movie palace looks and is an active theater and performing arts space, the downtown is filled with local businesses, and Philadelphia magazine declared the town one of the ten “most awesome places to live” in the region.

Blobfest manages to be as campy an event as The Blob was cinema. Between recreating the scene of the screaming mass of people running in horror from the Colonial to a parade with fire extinguishers, the theme was the Blob and its era. 50’s music plays, period cars are on display, the Colonial shows science fiction and horror films of the era…. the Blob himself even makes an appearance – the prop monster from the film lives in a trash can in collector Wes Shank’s basement, and emerges for Blobfest and other public appearances.

For my purposes, Blobfest proved to be an ideal challenge. I met two friends for lunch at the Bistro on Bridge, and afterward we wandered amid the street fair:



Shops were open, including a bizarre antique shop/flea market. I found this woman adorable. How much to take her home?

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From the end of lunch before one to my return to my car at three I walked and stood and negotiated curbs and unlevel pavement (Phoenixville is built into a hillside.) I was sore and stiff by the end of it. And I paid for it the next day in swelling. stiffness, and fatigue. However, its probably the first time I’d stood two hours without a break since 2010. I gave up hiking in 2011. Now it was back in my life. No wonder I look content….

 

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Westsylvania 2014, Day 15: Eulalia Cemetery, Coudersport, PA

No, I wasn’t so exhausted from my trip I had to take the final journey to the boneyard. There are other reasons for my visit.

One subtext of A Taste For The Woods is that the outdoors is for everyone, and that we have many opportunities to participate. Often these opportunities are nearby and neglected. For instance, I’ve written about the Freedom’s Foundation Medal of Honor Grove, and how its ignored because its located just outside Valley Forge National Historic Park.

Even more ignored are cemeteries. Most people only visit a cemetery for an interment, theirs or somebody else’s. I visit them all the time for walks. They are usually well landscaped, scenic, quiet, and have very few visitors. I can be alone with my thoughts. And as a writer I know every stone tells a story – the monument with the wide span of time between dates speaking of a life lived with worldly success; the small blank marker letting the world know here lies a child who died before he was named; the faded stone showing someone fading into historical oblivion.

But you don’t have to think of the stories around you. A cemetery is a quiet place to stretch your legs. And I found one just outside Coudersport on my drive home that served as a good place to stop.

Eulalia Cemetery is on PA Route 6 just west of downtown Coudersport. I’ve passed it before, and this time, having all day to drive, I stopped for a few minutes. The graveyard is built onto the side of a steep hill. While there are steps I could have walked up, I chose the paved road. In a couple of minutes I was sweating as I climbed the slope. I was not only getting to experience nature, I was getting exercise. As the photo shows, I got not only a workout, but a view as well. Downtown Coudersport is to the left in the photo, obscured by trees. I parked near the Family Dollar store in the photo.

After a few minutes of contemplation and drinking in the view, I headed back to the car. My mood was lightened by unintentional comic relief; a Mr. Toombs is interred here. I doubt he minded a chuckle about his family name appearing on a headstone.

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Westsylvania 2014, Day 14: Walks in Bradford and Smethport

As I noted in the previous post, on the 14th day of my trip I was very fatigued from the previous day’s speech and bear encounter. And I cut short a hike at Kinzua Bridge State Park because of my lack of energy. So the day’s hiking, aside from Kinzua Bridge,  consisted of walks in Bradford and Smethport, and I’ve taken the opportunity to combine the two into a single post even though they bookended the bridge hike. It made for a long day, nearly as long as that last sentence.

Bradford is an old oil and mineral town, and seat of McKean County. I’ve joked about the city being known for the Zippo lighter and mezzo-soprano Marilyn Horne, but it has a downtown with exploring. I’ve twice walked in downtown Bradford, first in my 2010 tour of Westsylvania and during my recent trip. I suggest starting at McDonald’s, and not for the food unless you like eating there. The downtown McDonald’s has a working oil well in its drive through. This well has yielded continuously since 1870.

Oldest continuously working well in Pennsylvania.

Moving on to more conventional buildings, the downtown has a lot of brick structures built when the idea of the skyscraper was new and “form ever follows function” was just the words architect Louis Sullivan was searching for. Sullivan, designer of the first skyscraper,  used the phrase in his 1896 essay “The Tall Office Building Artistically Considered”. Turn of the century architecture is fascinating to me, and mid-sized cities such as Bradford often have wonderful examples standing. For instance, Bradford has its answer to New York’s Flatiron Building. In this case form not only followed function, it had to fit the space available. Some people might think this building odd or funny, but I see creativity where others see humor.

Smethport is only 30 miles from Bradford, and small enough most people driving on Route 6 will miss it if the stoplight is green. I would have been one of those people, but I was exhausted and sought out a motel room on the edge of town. I got out of the car, into my room, and napped a couple of hours.

I woke at 6:30 and went out for a walk. Smethport is an old lumber town, and more importantly an old lumber MONEY town. Smethport has a tour of historic homes held a couple of days a month, and I regret not being able to take it. Its also a county seat, and the courthouse is as grand as any I’ve seen, and dominated the hillside downtown. More interestingly for me is the enormous park surrounding Hamlin Lake; although the ground was soft and wet in spots, my hike into Smethport via the park was fun. And in the fading light the little town in the hills looked beautiful.

I walked two miles between the time I spent in Bradford’s downtown and my stroll in Smethport. Combined with Kinzua Bridge and my fatigue this was a full day. I went to bed and slept deeply, my body preparing for the long drive home tomorrow.

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Whispering Pines Trail and Pine Plantation Trail, King’s Gap, May 2014

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At the entrance to King’s Gap Environmental Education Center is the Pines Day Use Area. Its the sole flat area in the park, and it holds two short trails, the paved Whispering Pines and the longer grassy Pine Plantation. As the names indicate, these are I walked both trails, which total a mile, before leaving the park during my recent trip to the Michaux State Forest. It was late afternoon and I was alone. The sound of my boots on the ground and the birds were all I heard, as I was surrounded by the smell of the pines and the light filtered through them. Although these trails have no technical challenges, no elevation changes, no vistas or waterfalls, I found my hike here to be as wonderful as any I’ve been on. A hike doesn’t have to be busy or long to be fulfilling. Nor does a hiker have to do things to be filled.

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Lake Jean, Ricketts Glen State Park, April 2014

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After my hike on the Highland Trail but before setting up camp I visited Lake Jean and spent a few minutes along its shores. There is a short trail from the main camp road to the boat launch area, and I walked it and along the camp road looking at the lake and the sun setting in the mountains behind it. Had I known there was a trail from the camping area to the lake, I might have started from there instead of driving to the dam. I will have to hike that trail next time.

The weekend of my visit was following the 450th birthday of William Shakespeare, and the Bard was on my mind. Watching the waves on the lake and thinking about my life I couldn’t help but recall the opening lines of Sonnet 60:

“Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end; 
Each changing place with that which goes before,
In sequent toil all forwards do contend. “


I wondered, have I used my minutes well, as I watched the waves make towards the shores of Lake Jean. Pondering that question I left the lake, set up camp, and went to bed. 

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Harpers Ferry, Murphy Farm and Bolivar Heights, April 2014

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All my hikes in Harpers Ferry Easter weekend were short. But all were wonderful. I had good weather and great views. Two of the hikes were on battlefields, and I’m combining them into a single post even though they were done on separate days in separate, but close, locations.

On Saturday I walked the loop at the Murphy Farm. The two mile trail starts at the Visitors Center for the park, and aside from a moderately steep drop to cross a stream the trail is level, and for most of its length a wide crushed limestone surface. And if you are not in the mood to cross the stream or want a shorter hike there is a trailhead with parking at the farm. Highlights of the short walk were the cannons and historical marker for the Battle of Harpers Ferry, and two vistas of the Shenandoah River.

The second walk was Easter Sunday, and consisted of a mile on Bolivar Heights. Everything is “heights” around Harpers Ferry – Bolivar Heights, Maryland Heights, Loudoun Heights – because the town was built into a hillside and on a flood plain. Being located next to the river is great for transporting goods, but not helpful when defending against an army occupying high ground. There’s a quip allegedly from some Civil War figure that he’d rather have to attack Harpers Ferry a dozen times than defend it once. Seeing Bolivar Heights and Murphy Farm made me think there’s some truth to that witticism.

A hundred and fifty years later what was a helpful view for battle is now a marvelous vista. I walked the flat portion of the trail facing the confluence of the rivers, and as the photos show I had a great view. Like Murphy Farm the Bolivar Heights trail has canon and historical markers, but its the views that make the hike.

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