Geoff Fox: My Permanent Record
Back when I was in school teachers would always scare me with stories of how my exploits would end up in my permanent record. I believe this is it! – Geoff Fox
I am looking forward to seeing her, but not her reaction to the snow she’ll be seeing!
I’m on FlightAware tracking Helaine’s flight across the country. She’s just left Colorado and now over Kansas.
This is how Thomas Jefferson followed Lewis and Clark, right?
I am looking forward to seeing her, but not her reaction to the snow she’ll be seeing!
Helaine said, “Don’t say anything.”
“What class is this,” I asked?
It poured this morning. It was enough to wake me.
I’ve come to a strange place in life. As I laid in bed, hoping to quickly fall back to sleep, I thought “medium sized drops.” During the summer we often get super sized giant drops. This storm was different. It made up for drop size with drop quantity.
I did all that rain thinking with my eyes closed. Weird. I’m obviously much too attuned to weather. I have no doubt my sightless observation was correct.
Early this afternoon we headed to the Sleeping Giant Tower Trail for our every-other-day hike up the mountain. As we approached the trail head I heard running water. A stream was moving swiftly throwing white water over rocks. In our five plus months on the mountain we’d never seen this stream run!
“Maybe we shouldn’t go today,” Helaine offered.
“We’re just like Lewis and Clark,” I said, trying to keep my footing on the wet leaves that are beginning to cover the trail. We walked a few minutes before coming upon a cluster of a dozen college students.
Helaine said, “Don’t say anything.”
“What class is this,” I asked?
I know. Helaine wants to be unobtrusive. My asking the group of strangers what they’re doing there is more than a little dweeby. I couldn’t be held back.
It was a biology class doing some field work. Quinnipiac University is a few minutes walk from the trail. What a great classroom. I suspect they don’t get that aspect yet.
We continued upward. It was quickly obvious we’d be behind our normal pace to the top. Footing was bad and from time-to-time water rushed across the trail. I was upset “Clicky” wasn’t along for the ride. Some of these ad hoc waterfalls were really beautiful. I’m not sure when I’ll see them again.
About 2/3 of the way to the top the trail levels for 150 feet or so. It’s the only flat portion of the 1.6 mile trip. There were four large puddles to be forded.
The last few minutes of walking saw no running water. There were gullies that were wet, but no flow. At this time of year, running water near the top doesn’t last long. As the ground gets saturated and colder that will be less of a problem.
This little mountain never ceases to amaze me. It is constantly changing. The trail is never boring–always a little different. It’s just five minutes from the house. I kick myself we waited 18 years before getting started.
Today reminded me the seasons are changing. It’s becoming clear the trail will be more difficult as we move to colder weather. I’m not sure it’s going to let us hike for all 12 months. Damn shame.
I don’t know what kind it is–piranha or python probably. Maybe a poisonous mamba snake? Whatever it was, it’s foreign to this city boy.
I have become fairly dedicated on our every-other-day jaunts up Sleeping Giant. No time to stop–the watch is ticking and I’m watching it. Faster. Gotta go faster.
With that in mind, we stopped in mid-walk today. A snake was crossing the trail. I don’t know what kind it is–piranha or python probably. Maybe a poisonous mamba snake? Whatever it was, it’s foreign to this city boy.
We stopped and looked down. I took out my cellphone and snapped a few shots with its camera. Lewis and Clark should have had one of these!
“Is it alive,” Helaine asked before gently nudging it with her sneaker? The snake was literally scared stiff. He wasn’t moving just then.
There has been a lot of animal activity near the trail recently. Carmine, our name for all chipmunks, has been seen everywhere. There are more varieties of birds chirping away–or so it sounds to me.
I’m way out of my element. Is this what happens as fall approaches?
“Look, there’s Jack Hanna,” Helaine said as an unknown critter noisily shuffled through some dry brush near us. The woods are not quiet.
The skies are blue. The air is cooler. The snakes are out.