Fall wildflowers

We usually think of wildflowers in the spring. But there are some that bloom in the fall. Goldenrod is the iconic flower of fall, often covering roadside areas and fields. Ironweed is another more visible flower, though rarely seen close up, seen in pasture fields starting August. Here are both together:

Goldenrod and Ironweed


Ironweed is often considered just another nuisance weed. They often fill entire pasture areas, creating a swath of purple. Near our home we have a single plant that seems totally misplaced, deep in the woods and far from open fields. It may be a survivor from decades past when the area was a farm. I always watch carefully for it, expecting that any year it will disappear. But it persists. And it is next to our trail, so we can see the flowers up close.


Lone ironweed along the trail


Then there is a lesser known wildflower, white snake root. It is usually seen in wooded areas and is often quite prolific, sometimes covering several acres in open wooded areas.


White snakeroot

My favorite is great blue lobelia. It is much rarer, usually seen in deep woods along streams. We found a cluster of these along a stream on our property after clearing brush for a hiking path. They are beautiful plants with an almost indigo blue flower.


Great blue lobelia plants


Great blue lobelia flowers close up

Keep watching for other natural indicators of fall. They are all around us. If you have fall favorites or questions, let me know or add a comment to this post.

Backpacking at Mohican

My grandson Connor and I had completed an overnight backpack last November. I picked Mohican State Park because of the area's reputation for scenery. It also had unique "park and pack" system of sites. They offer a backpacking experience but with parking close by, so the hike to the site is no more than a mile or two. Then we day hike - without packs. This plan works for Connor, who likes camping more than hiking and for Connor's Dad, Gregg who favors the hiking more than the camping.

The week before, I gathered my own equipment, plus extra gear (and a few food items) that Connor and Gregg did not have. Early Friday, I'm on the road to the camping area. The drive takes me through Amish country in Tuscarawus and Holmes counties in Ohio. I had not been there in decades. It is beautiful on this sunny, mild morning. There horse drawn buggies, nicely decorated buildings, and bustling activity.

I drive through nearby Loudenville and head into the park. Loudenville is a pretty town - even has a McDonalds. I won't mention that to the campers just yet, so I can preserve some measure of a wilderness experience. Campsite 3 had plenty of parking, and looks like a good place to start. I wait at our designated rendezvous location but without cell service don't know where they are. They arrive ready to hike.

We decide to do a hike first before setting up camp since there is time, and the day is sunny. We hike the upper end of the Clear Fork gorge, starting from the covered bridge towards two waterfalls and the dam. It is a beautiful hike. Along the way, we recall humorous vacation adventures. The falls and views from the dam are impressive.

Gregg stands under Big Lyons Falls; Connor is above the falls - out of sight.

Dave and Connor at the dam.


Connor loves the steep hills and scrambles to the top of the falls. We return to the covered bridge on the gorge trail. The sun is hot; many wildflowers carpet the low areas around the creek.

Virginia Blue Bells

At the camp site parking lot, we sort gear, pack up, and hike to Camp site 3. The trail even featurs a new hiking experience for them - a shoes-off stream crossing of Pine Creek just before arriving at the campsite. It is a perfect site - flat, with a fire ring, several good tent sites, stone tables that someone built, and proximity to Pine Creek for water.

We set up camp and gather fire wood. Incredibly, no major camp item has been forgotten - or malfunctions. Connor tends the fire and cranks up the camp stoves. It is a relaxing time. We devour our respective camp food preparations. Then we gather more firewood, and relax around the fire talking about family, camp gear, and Connor's school activities. We turn in shortly after dark. The stars are brightly shining; Pine Creek gurgles in the distance.

The next morning dawns gray and cool. Connor revives the campfire which is burning brightly as I emerge from my tent. We are planning a base camp, so there is no rush to pack up stuff. I like that. Oatmeal tastes good as we fortify ourselves for the day's hiking. The plan is hike the gorge trail, then check our other trails or points of interest. As we leave camp, a few rain drops are falling....hmmmmm.

We hike the gorge trail. The rain becomes less intermittent, more steady. A shelter at trail's end gives us a break for a snack and review of plans. We decide to hike to Gregg's car, since it is closer - instead of returning to my car along the gorge trail. The rain has stopped. I decide to play the McDonalds card. We stop for lunch but mainly for the wi-fi, so we can check the weather forecast.

I'm not a McDonalds regular, and decide to order a Happy Meal because it has smaller portions and apple slices. I disclose my cluelessness about Happy Meals. When asked what kind of Happy Meal, I respond, "the one with apple slices." Connor becomes hysterical - all Happy Meals have apple slices, it turns out.

The weather radar sounds the death knell for our trip. A huge green blob of rain looms for two states to the west, assuring us of rain the rest of the day and through the night. We finish our McDonalds, return to camp, pack up and head home. I am bummed out - had been looking forward to another pleasant night around camp and had no idea the weather would be that bad.

But I'm grateful for the good experience. Connor had become a mostly self sufficient backpacker. Seeing the excitement he displayed at climbing the hills and tending the fire was a high point for me. Gregg seemed to enjoy himself despite a self professed discomfort with tent camping.

We're planning a trip for Emily and Catrina - a more toned down car camping - but still getting them experience in the out of doors. That's what counts.

On the Appalachian Trail

The Buckeye Trail Association organized a hiking trip on the Appalachian Trail in Virginia. I reviewed the itinerary - 60 miles from Mt. Rogers Visitors Center west to Damascus. A couple of the days were 12 miles of hiking. It seemed a little intimidating to a once or twice a year hiker like me. So I did some extra hiking in Bittersweet Woods and the treadclimber to get in shape.

Saturday, Sept 10. Karen Smith from Canton area and I arrive at Iron Mountain campground outside of Damascus, VA. The tent camping area is primitive but located next a beautiful stream. I found a level spot and was ready to put up the tent. To my surprise, there was a garter snake curled up in the exact spot I want to use. It did not seem to happy about hikers invading its habitat. After a some flicks of its tongue, it quietly left the area. Later the group went to Quincy's for good food, legal beverages and reminiscing about previous hiking trips.

Not putting my tent here. These and other photos by Karen Smith


Fuel for the trip at Quincy's in Damascus.


Sunday, Sept 11. Mt Rogers Outfitters shuttle us to our starting point. We decided to start where VA 601 connects with trail. Our shuttle driver is a former sheriff but says he has never been on that part of 601. "Don't worry, I'll get y'all there." He did. But the last mile was a narrow, rutted one lane (if that) track hugging the side of an incredibly steep drop off. Whew!

Ready to go.

We hike to Trimpi shelter. There are great tent sites there, but.......no water. The pipe from the spring is dry. No water!? All the AT shelters are supposed to have reliable water sources all the time. Never mind. We bushwack to some less than optimal water on nearby private property - and live to talk about it. That evening we talked some about the 9/11 anniversary, then lapsed into campfire chatter, games of Farkle and a few sips of wine - a first day hiking treat. The evening winds down as a tired hiker snores softly in the shelter.

Monday, Sept 12. A pleasant hike to Hurricane Mountain Shelter except for a steep, unrelenting uphill section on a road just before the shelter. Not a switchback in sight. Shelter is nice, but tent camping areas are marginal. A few more hikers are tending their feet and limping more noticeably. We camp between roots and rocks, spend an hour trying to get a fire started, reminisce about the antics of a group member who passed away since the last trip, and savor the prospect of the great scenery ahead.

Tuesday, Sept 13. Started off with an uphill climb, nice walk through the woods, and lunch at the Pine Mountain trail. A beautiful open area with expansive vistas beckoned before we were back in the woods. We emerged at The Scales, an open area with distant hazy views, long horn cattle grazing, camping, and....real live toilets.

At The Scales near Grayson Highlands State Park

Camping and water near Wise shelter is excellent, along with a new privy built by an eagle scout. Morale is good. Some of the group bathe in the rushing water of the nearby creek. There are a few more blisters among the less experienced hikers. Everyone is a little sore. But we've made it this far, weather is great, and even better scenery is ahead. Campfire chatter is lively.


Mess hall on the AT

Wednesday, Sept 14. It's my wife's birthday. I think wistfully of her and the dogs at home. We're on the move in the open areas of Grayson Highlands State Park. Views in every direction amaze and distract us.



Rock climbing slows us down, but close up visits in Grayson Highlands State Park with the wild ponies are a delight.



Lunch at Thomas Knob shelter, then we press on to Whitetop Mountain road. It's our longest mileage day, 12.9 miles. Thank goodness the weather holds - warm, clear, light breezes. We camp in the open. I guy out the tent just in case. There is an amazing view of mountain ridges from the side of Whitetop Mountain. We talk quietly; a few of us lay on the ground peering up at the milky way. Early to bed.

Thursday, Sept 15. Skies are grayish with high clouds. We hesitate to think of the r word. Scenery is great along the ridge from Whitetop Mountain to Buzzard Rock. Almost a 360 view. Then we head down - back and forth along superbly aligned switchbacks. As we reach the gravel bed along the Virginia Creeper hike/bike trail the sky darkens. A steady rain starts. A quick passing shower, surely. Wrong. Rain continues for 30 minutes, an hour, two hours. Dang, we're climbing again. Is it getting colder? The wind picks up, too. We reach a ridge and hike through rain and low clouds. Where IS that Saunders Shelter? On we go. The hikers with sore feet slow way down but trudge on.

Finally the shelter trail appears. We file in one by one over the next half hour. It's getting colder and windier. Wind chill has to be in the 40's. The rain lets up enough to pitch tents. We huddle in the shelter, layer up, and cook. We share thoughts about the trip to date and talk about where to go next year. Off to bed. Sleeping bag feels good; pine needles underneath make for a comfy bed. About midnight I awake with a start - the camp is lit up. Then I realize it is moonlight. Good news - that means the sky is clear; back to some much needed sleep.

Friday, Sept. 16. Temps in low 40's. But we're up and moving, ready for the final push to Damsacus. Trail drops steadily along another excellent set of switchbacks. Flora surroundings change as we move through successive zones to lower altitudes. Rhododendren, Mountain Laurel, Golden rod, iron weed, white snakeroot, solomon's seal, cohosh, lobelia, angelica, and other fall wild flowers appear...then disappear as we descend.

White Snakeroot

Great Blue Lobelia

We reached the Virginia Creeper trail and hiked into Damascus. There we got cleaned up, stopped for a final lunch at Quincy's and hit the road.

It was fun, mostly, except for some of the more strenuous sections and the rain. But the beautiful scenery, camaraderie with our hiking group, and beautiful wooded areas more than offset the unpleasant parts. The weather for 6 of the 7 days was great. A big thank-you to John Rethman for organizing yet another great trip! I made my obligatory post hike notes on what items to pack, not pack, or add to my gear. I always learn something new from other hikers.

A week later, I'm rested up.....and ready for another hike.

Woodworking Therapy

Woodworking conjures up images of skilled carpentry, saws, miters, routers and such. Like the Yankee Workshop show on PBS. Woodworking is great therapy, one of my doctor clients tells me. For me, the therapy is working in the woods - woodsworking, you could call it. I needed the therapy yesterday. Dad is in the hospital; some difficult decisions loom ahead. After a hospital visit, some hard work in the woods sounded good. Clear the brush, clear the mind.

I decided to tackle a logjam in the stream from a recent torrential rain. I trudged down to the jam with mattock, lopper, and a small chainsaw. It was a gnarly, humid day. The dew point pushed 70. Gnats, mosquitoes, and biting flies were out. I walked the trail, then stepped into the creek bed and scoped out the mess. It was suitably vigorous work. There is little skill required for this woodworking. It is mostly persistent hard, grubby work. Pull out roots, pry out rotten logs, drag smelly muck out of the way. Keep from stepping in water over the top of my otherwise waterproof boots. Cut the tree lying across the stream into sections. Lug the sections across to the bank.

Much of the wood was from a downed osage tree. Osage is very hard wood, about like cutting a concrete block. The wood is bright yellow; it burns like coal in a fireplace. The sawdust piled up on my boots like gold dust. After about 40 minutes, the jam was mostly clear. The pretty rock riffle in the stream was once again visible.

I trudged down towards the waterfall, sweaty and muddy but satisfied at the outcome. I removed a log from the upper table of the falls. I stepped below the falls in the stream. Looking upstream was a beautiful vista - the falls, water flowing towards it, swaying sycamore trees. I took this in then headed for home.

Several plant and animal friends greeted me along the way. A frog jumped from the bank as I left the stream. A rufous-sided towhee hopped just a few feet from me under some black raspberry bushes by the trail. I came across a patch of delicate white lobelia wildflowers. Back at the house, our resident garter snake languidly crawled into the flower bed near the porch. It was as if the residents of Bittersweet Woods were assuring me that whatever lay ahead, things would be OK.



I walked into the yard to the sharp pinging of a sledge hammer striking a splitting wedge. Suz was chopping out the last vestiges of a locust stump which was decidedly mower-unfriendly. We took a few more swings and the stump remnant gave way. Time to clean up and get back to the hospital.

Chicory

July in the midwest brings welcome friends along country roadsides - chicory, Queen Anne's Lace, and a little later, Joe Pye Weed and Ironweed. Chicory has a captivating indigo blue tone and seems to thrive in apparently scrub soil. It's in full bloom now, along with Queen Anne's Lace, by the road that abuts Bittersweet Woods.


Along Glendale road next to Bittersweet Woods.

For many years, I did not realize that the beautiful flower was called chicory. I remember chicory as something added to Luzianne coffee to give it a less bitter taste. I figured it came from some lush rain forest. Wrong. It grows in otherwise ugly waste areas in the U.S. and Europe. The root has been used for centuries as an herb and as flavoring of coffees or a coffee/tea substitute. Civil war soldiers made a type of tea from it when they ran out of tea or coffee.