Sleeping Giant Mountain – Geoff Fox: My Permanent Record

Have I Mentioned I Love The Mountain?

My forecast was for sunny skies. Ugh! Not so. The Sun should be out by 2-3p based on what I see now. I don’t like being wrong.

When you forecast the weather for a living the last thing you want to do is wake up on the weekend, look out the window and see something you didn’t forecast! Take this morning for example. My call for today was sunny. I woke up to cloudy. That’s not good.

Helaine and I planned to take Doppler up Sleeping Giant. I wasn’t showing my face with this kind of blown call!

Around noon I double checked my numbers then went on Facebook and Twitter to post:

My forecast was for sunny skies. Ugh! Not so. The Sun should be out by 2-3p based on what I see now. I don’t like being wrong. #hiding

Online friends started checking in. Western Connecticut got the sunshine first which then slowly crawled across the state.

By 2:00 PM the clouds had parted and we were ready to go.

On an afternoon like this Sleeping Giant Mountain State Park gets busy. We drove past the parking lot and into the picnic area. There were families and other groups of people walking toward the trails.

Doppler walked to our right. We were surprised to see she did little sniffing. She didn’t seem curious about the other dogs either… well, unless they were interested in her.

That’s how we ran into Benji. Benji is a Maltapoo–a Maltese/Poodle combination. There were some subtle differences, but he and Doppler surely share some lineage.

I’m glad I snapped these photos.

Doppler has four legs, but they’re short. She was taking two or three times the steps on twice the number of legs. Maybe she’ll make it to the tower at the top of the mountain later this summer, but not today.

We stopped at the bench a little over halfway to the top and rested for a moment before heading back down. Doppler’s pace quickened with gravity finally on her side!

As we walked the lower part of the trail I turned to Helaine and told her how good it is to live near The Giant. It’s tough to express how much I love that beautiful chunk of Connecticut.

Tonight I’m typing with a sleeping puppy next to me. Her paws are a lot dirtier than they were this morning.

The Giant Takes A Life

It’s easy to see how you could fall from The Chin. It’s a rocky outcropping with an uneven surface and little room for error.

Such sad news. A young man of 18 who’d fallen from Sleeping Giant yesterday has died of his injuries. The first reports said he’d been on the Tower Trail, the one Helaine and I walk, when he fell and plunged 200 feet.

It didn’t make sense. The Tower Trail is challenging because it’s 1.6 miles of incline. There is little danger on the trail itself.

Today came word he’d been on The Chin. The Chin is just off the trail near the Tower. It’s where the image at the top of this entry was taken.

As a place to take pictures or just stare out into Central Connecticut it’s alluring. I’ve been there many times and always think about my footing and where my next step will be. I’m always looking for a tree to hold onto.

It’s easy to see how you could fall from The Chin. It’s a rocky outcropping with an uneven surface and little room for error.

I feel awful for this young man’s family. How tragic it must be for them. There is nothing that will bring their son back.

I hope this terrible accident doesn’t change the mountain. Sometimes the beauty of nature is only appreciated when a site is left natural. Warnings signs, handholds and restrictions are not the answer to this horrible loss.

Super Moon Over Connecticut (Photos)

I turned to the east at 7:23 and right on schedule…. nothing. That’s not right. The Moon is always on time!

I would have written this a few minutes ago, but I wanted to wait until the feeling returned to my fingers! Spring may be under 24 hours away, but winter isn’t done yet. It was windy and cold as I made my way to Quinnipiac University’s York Hill Campus.

Tonight is the night of the “Super Moon.” The Moon is full while it and Earth are at their closest point. It’s unusual for both those things to happen simultaneously.

I know enough to know it wasn’t going to be spectacular, but it would be nice.

Moonrise was scheduled for 7:23 PM. “What are you waiting for,” Helaine asked a few minutes before 7:00?

It only takes five minutes to get from here to there. Within the first thirty seconds I knew what I’d been waiting for–warmth.

I first stopped behind the fieldhouse to take a few twilight shots of New Haven. A security officer showed up thirty seconds later. He’d noticed me driving beyond the “No Vehicles…” sign.

I’m lucky. He was nice about it. I got to take my shots before moving on.

There were a few other people waiting at the top of QU’s hill as I crossed from the parking lot to the easternmost overlook on this new campus. I could see other folks even higher up near Quinnipiac’s Windspire Wind Farm.

Yes, electricity was being produced tonight. Lots of electricity.

With a few minutes still to pass I turned toward Lockwood Farm down in the valley below. The silo… it’s a cell tower! Is nothing sacred?

I turned to the east at 7:23 and right on schedule…. nothing. That’s not right. The Moon is always on time!

I waited. Still nothing. Maybe the Moon was behind Sleeping Giant Mountain?

As it turned out though we had no clouds overhead there were a few on the horizon. The Moon began to poke through around 7:30.

It’s a little larger. It’s a little brighter. It’s still the full moon. If no one would have talked about it being oversized tonight you wouldn’t have known it!

I, on the other hand, am thinking of soaking in a hot tub. It’s still winter!

Snow Is Ugly/Snow Is Beautiful (Photos)

Mother Nature: You’ll note I now have my photos. Please feel free to melt what’s left.

It’s been a while since we had a substantial snow. Don’t feel sorry. We’ve been storing the white stuff as if there was a “Snow 401-K.” There’s still plenty everywhere!

I carried my camera while heading to Rick’s house this afternoon. There was beauty to capture. There was ugliness too. Let’s start with that.

Snow falls white, but it’s a dirt magnet! After a few weeks the snow is coated with soot and dirt. Ugly!

Nearly every road in Connecticut is now flanked by this ugly snow.

On the positive side Jepps Brook has started to poke through its snowy blanket a few hundred yards from here. The same goes for Sleeping Giant, what passes for a mountain in South Central Connecticut.

Mother Nature: You’ll note I now have my photos. Please feel free to melt what’s left.

Sleeping Giant In The Clouds

This shot was taken with my iPhone using HDR Pro to allow the dark and light to co-exist.

I pulled off the road this afternoon on my way in to work. It’s a grey, rainy day in Connecticut. Low clouds obscured the peak of Sleeping Giant Mountain.

This shot was taken with my iPhone using HDR Pro to allow the dark and light to co-exist. In a perfect world I’d Photoshop away the power lines.

No–actually in a perfect world the lines would be underground.

I’ve driven past Sleeping Giant every day for twenty years. I am still in awe of its beauty.

Return To The Mountain

What started as a 30+ minute trip had minutes shaved off. By the fall Helaine and I were getting to the castle at the summit in around 24 minutes.

“Let’s walk.” Those were my first words to Helaine as I came downstairs this afternoon. In our house the generic “walk” has meaning beyond its dictionary definition. We walk the main trail to the top of Sleeping Giant Mountain. It’s a moderately stressful 1.6 miles with few flat stretches as you climb around 600 feet.

Two years ago we walked Sleeping Giant nearly every day. Last year we slacked off.

The year we walked made a huge physical difference to me. In the beginning I had to stop halfway, By the end of the season I was doing a few brief sprints near the top.

What started as a 30+ minute trip had minutes shaved off. By the fall Helaine and I were getting to the castle at the summit in around 24 minutes.

The good part was the mountain could be used as a variable target. By picking up the pace the mountain became more difficult.

Toward the end of the season Helaine took a bad fall on a rock hidden beneath falling leaves. A DEP policeman brought her down on a motorized utility vehicle. Since then she’s been more cautious which surely makes the walk more difficult.

The weather was beautiful today. The sky was blue. The mountain trail uncrowded.

Close to half the walkers were accompanied by dogs. It’s that kind of place.

When we first walked the mountain we’d always pass two women who were on it every day. On today’s trip it was one of the women by herself. We didn’t ask.

Hopefully we’ll get back into the swing and do this three or four times a week as we did a few years back.

The Mountain Is Open For Business

The weekend was beautiful. I caught spring fever. “Let’s go for a walk on the Giant,” I asked Helaine. It was an easy suggestion to make on a Sunday night after dark. There was no way to go!

This early afternoon as I stumbled out of bed Helaine asked, “Do you still want to go?” I did. We both love Sleeping Giant Mountain.

It’s early March. It’s Monday. Even at 59&#176 there are small patches of snow in shaded areas. The parking lot was jammed!

It looked like the 30 pound rule was in effect as there was no dog that didn’t come up to my thigh–and most people did have dogs.

In a perfect world we’d have made it to the top. We did not.

My back, which pained me late Saturday night before slacking off Sunday made it perfectly clear the full mountain would be foolhardy.

We’ll be back. Two years ago we walked the mountain three or four times a week. I was as aerobically fit as I can remember.

If spring fever has a downside I haven’t seen it yet.

The Mountain Welcomes Us Back And Beats The Crap Out Of Me

We stopped walking Sleeping Giant Mountain’s 1.6 mile trail in November&#185. It was getting cold and treacherous with ice on the path and leaves hiding the small boulders that make footing tricky.

Today was our day to start the 2009 season. That wasn’t a thought held only by the Foxes. It was jammed. On this unseasonably warm day everyone and their dog was there! We love seeing dogs on the trail.

If you stop walking for 5&#189 months you get out of shape! That’s first hand knowledge speaking.

Before we got to the midpoint I was huffing and puffing. We walked another few minutes before stopping for a minute or two. At points my lungs were burning. We made the top in just under 30 minutes. It didn’t take long to recharge and head down.

I am exhausted. I am a little sore. We will be back–hopefully Tuesday.

&#185 – Helaine has asked me to add, that’s 3.2 miles and up and down a 60 story building for each round trip.

The Trail Changes With The Weather

For the first time in my life I have become very conscious of a natural place and how it changes with its environment. The trail now reacts differently to water and wind. Less rain means larger and longer lasting puddles.

I heard some noise early (for me) and was out of bed and downstairs around 9:30. With rain on the way Helaine and I took the opportunity to head to Sleeping Giant Mountain.

There’s no charge for weekend parking this time of year. The word hasn’t gotten out as there was a line of cars parked along Mount Carmel Avenue across from the Quinnipiac University campus.

The trees are going bare. The change from full color to bare branches happens quickly–a few weeks at best. It’s an interesting transition–slightly different for each species of tree and then each individual tree within that species based on location and neighbors. Most lose their leaves fully, though some trees will sadly hold their dead and shriveled foliage all winter.

“It’s like walking through a minefield,” Helaine said. She was cautiously looking down as we worked our way up.

The trail is covered in leaf litter which means the toaster sized rocks that poke a few inches above the surface were mainly hidden. Catch one of those rocks with your foot while in mid-stride and you’re on your way down! Helaine and I have both taken headers this season even though the rocks were easily seen. Helaine was really cut-up and is justifiably skittish.

After seven months of up-and-down. parts of the trail looks different enough that I don’t know where I am! What a strange feeling to be somewhere you’ve been dozens of times and see nothing familiar. All of a sudden there are vistas where there were trees.

Last night’s rain left the leaves wet and slippery. Every once in a while I’d step but not plant firmly–like a car tire spinning on gravel. Our trip to the top was a full minute slower than our recent ‘goal’.

OK–it’s my goal, not Helaine’s. She looks at me when I click my watch like I’m some sort of alien. I like the competitive feel of knowing my time and having a reason to maintain a faster pace.

For the first time in my life I have become very conscious of a natural place and how it changes with its environment. The trail now reacts differently to water and wind. Less rain is needed for larger and longer lasting puddles. It’s becoming more obvious we won’t be able to walk it all winter–maybe not even on the unseasonably warm days.

That’s sad. No piece of equipment will replace our walks. It’s a full hour alone with Helaine in a place of spectacular beauty. I like that.

It’s another reason to hate winter.

Mill River–Final Fall Color

This photo is a 3-shot HDR. It was taken in aperture priority with the exposure centered 2-f/stops darker than what was indicated.

I took a quick trip to Cheshire to see my friend Harold this afternoon. On my way back I detoured to Mt. Carmel Avenue. There’s a nondescript highway bridge over the Mill River right at the foot of Sleeping Giant Mountain. I had wanted to take some photos there but somehow the time was never right.

I took a few dozens pictures and was walking back to my car when I realized I’d set the camera wrong! I walked back and took this one, facing south.

This photo (here’s a larger version) is a 3-shot HDR. It was taken in aperture priority with the exposure centered 2-f/stops darker than what was indicated. Without that the blue sky would have been totally washed out.

There are plenty of bare trees now. This was probably the last good leaf peeping weekend.

What’s At The Top Of Sleeping Giant

The stone tower was built by the WPA in 1936.

I published some pictures from yesterday’s hike up Sleeping Giant Mountain. There’s one more I should have included, because this is what we see when we get up there.

The stone tower was built by the WPA in 1936. With ramps leading to an open roof area, the tower looks like it was never designed to be anything but an observation tower.

Considering this is at the end of a 1.6 mile trail it’s a pretty surprising sight.

Learning More About How Little I Know

I set out today to take shots like this, thinking it was as simple as could be. I carried my wobbly tripod and remote shutter release. It’s not that easy!

Like many photographers, I play around with HDR (high dynamic range) photography. It’s a method of extending the dynamic range of a digital camera. Your eye can see subtle detail in very dark darks and very bright brights. A digital camera cannot. There is a finite distance between the darkest and brightest it can resolve. That range can be moved, but it’s limited.

With HDR photography a series of pictures, each with the range shifted, are merged. The new resulting image has more range than any of its component shots. The shots at the top of this entry from an open field for horses on Tuttle Avenue and the Mill River near Sleeping Giant Mountain, are HDR pictures.

100% crop of Tuttle Avenue field HDR When you look really closely, there are problems. I’m not sure how to eliminate them and I can’t seem to find anything about them online. This photo on the left is a 100% crop (pixel-for-pixel on the screen) of the Tuttle Avenue horse field HDR image. Since the leaves are blowing around slightly, there are strange ghostly artifacts in the trees and places where the blue sky pokes through. The original is a huge image, 12 Megapixels. There are similar problems with the Mill River shot. I’m not totally sure this would be seen in most prints–though it might. It definitely would in an oversize enlargement.

I set out today to take shots like this, thinking it was as simple as could be. I carried my wobbly tripod and remote shutter release. It’s not that easy!

The more I do photographically the more I understand great photographers are expert technicians. That’s much more important than being a great artist. I suspect my opinion is anti-intuitive for casual photo viewers.

I want to be a good photographer. I’ve got a lot to learn.

Sweating On The Mountain

Think walking with your body draped in a hot, wet towel.

Helaine and I walked Sleeping Giant Mountain early Sunday afternoon. It was hot and sticky–the most uncomfortable since we began. The dew point was easily 70&#176.

Think walking with your body draped in a hot, wet towel.

People are smart when the weather’s problematic. Most stayed home. Trail traffic was off by half, maybe more, from a typical Sunday.

I’ve come to another conclusion about walking, though I’m not sure what significance it has. Our mountain trekking has benefited me from the rib cage down more than from the rib cage up! My legs are taking the walk in stride with little trouble. On the other hand, I still sweat like a pig and wish my lungs would be more efficient in acquiring and using oxygen. I usually finish my bottle of water while we’re resting at the top.

Given half. the chance, I’d be walking every day, It’s really made a difference in how I feel and look. There’s no one more surprised to hear that than me! I never expected results.

Climbing The Mountain Again

It is the never ending detail that makes the trail at Sleeping Giant so interesting to walk and different day-to-day.

Helaine and I have been walking Sleeping Giant Mountain every few days for the last two months. It has made a difference in how we look and feel. I am still totally wasted by the time we get to the top, meaning there is still more benefit to be gained.

The gravel trail we walk is flanked by rocky rises and surrounded by woods. I stare into the woods all-the-time. There is something about them that struck me as different, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Now I have an idea what’s going on.

What we have is the opposite of the old adage, “can’t see the forest for the trees.”–an expression describing someone too involved in the details of a problem to look at the situation as a whole.

I grew up in the city. We didn’t have a whole lot of forests. OK–we had no forests. When I saw groups of trees, I saw them in photos or on TV. It was a singular, lush feature. I couldn’t see the trees for the forest.

When a forest fills your field-of-view, as it does on a TV screen or in the photo at the top of this entry, there is little detail. But when you’re inside the woods looking around, like on the Giant, each tree is sharply defined. That’s what had me confused. I never thought about the inherent intricacy of a forest.

It is the never ending detail that makes the trail at Sleeping Giant so interesting to walk and different day-to-day. Every step, every shift in the Sun’s angle, makes the trees look different.

I was thrown because I looked at the forest and saw sharp detail. Nearly 58 years on Earth and I had never stopped to see that existed.

More Mountaineering

I felt great! Not just a little good, I felt really great. My head was clear and sharp. It was as if a film of dullness had been lifted from me.

“I don’t think this is getting easier,” were Helaine’s words as we approached the halfway point in our march upward. I was huffing and puffing too much to respond.

The trail is wide enough that a car could fit… if it was allowed up there. You’re walking through a forest, so there’s little direct sunlight that hits the trail itself. That makes summer walks a little easier to handle.

Nearly all of the trail we walk is on an incline. It has to be. In the 1.6 miles to the top, you’re gaining nearly 700 feet.

“They’ve tilted the Earth, haven’t they,” I asked? “It’s steeper than it was last week.”

Today, for the first time this season, I made the trip in one fell swoop. There was no stopping for a sip of water on a convenient boulder at the midway point. My hair was matted and sweaty under my New York Times hat (a Father’s Day gift) as we got to the stone castle at the summit, but we got there.

It’s a good thing this is Sleeping Giant Mountain and not Sleeping Giant Canyon. Who’d do it if the uphill part was last!

We got home, I took a shower and got ready for work. And then, a wonderful thing happened. I felt great! Not just a little good, I felt really great. My head was clear and sharp. It was as if a film of dullness had been lifted from me. I think the mountain hike is responsible.

Is it possible our walking has brought me a runner’s high?

From Wikipedia: Another widely publicized effect of endorphin production is the so-called “runner’s high”, which is said to occur when strenuous exercise takes a person over a threshold that activates endorphin production. Endorphins are released during long, continuous workouts, when the level of intensity is between moderate and high, and breathing is difficult. This also corresponds with the time that muscles use up their stored glycogen. Workouts that are most likely to produce endorphins include running, swimming, cross-country skiing, long distance rowing, bicycling, weight lifting, aerobics, or playing a sport such as Ultimate Frisbee, basketball, rugby, or American football.

Does this mean I’m out-of-shape enough that walking brings to me what running brings to others? Whatever it is, I want more. We’ll probably be back on the mountain Saturday.

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