Emily's First Camping Trip

Our grandson Connor actually prompted us to set this trip up. The idea was to see if Emily, age 9, would take to camping. My theory is that it's important that kids try different things when they are young. Otherwise, they may miss a lifetime of enjoyable activities because they never had the experience.

The overnight trip was set for Hueston Woods State Park near Oxford, OH, where Emily and her family live. That minimized travel and gave us a fall back location (going home!) if weather turned really bad or there was some other camping malfunction. Good idea. I have much of the camping gear and prior experience. So, I began packing and making lists. I asked the Wentzells to bring the food for them. My minimalist backpack menus would leave them hopelessy undernourished.

The big weekend approached. I drove to their home Oxford - about a 4 hour drive from Marietta. The late September weather was pleasant enough, but distinctly dark clouds loomed in the west as I approached. Emily had just finished a soccer game but was ready to roll. Connor decided not to go since he had more important activities with football buddies. We have become second rate participants in his teenage life.

Gregg dug through a pile of papers on their kitchen counter looking for the camping reservation. Amy finally printed us a new one. We threw their stuff in the van, and off we went. The local weather forecast assured us that there would only be only isolated passing showers, then clearing and cooler. Good. We wind our way through the park to the campsite.

The campsite is level and spacious. Other campers are settled in, mostly sitting well established campfires with full beer coolers. Emily is excited. It was about 1:30. Time to get the tents set up. Yes, those are light sprinkles of rain.

We sort through all the gear scattered about the van. Where is the.....I shockingly realize that I forgot to bring the two person tent that Emily and Gregg were to occupy. DANG - after all that planning!! Luckily I brought two single person tents, so we set those up. Emily and her Dad dutifully follow my instructions with the tent stakes, ground cover, tent set up, and rain covers. She inserted all of her stuff into the smallest of the tents. Gregg can have the other tent; I will sleep outside. The rain will be long gone by bed time....I hope.

Time to tour the park, get some firewood, and wait for the rain to stop. It is a steady rain now. We stop at the nature center. Emily studies the maps and stuffed animals. I soak up the history of the park depicted on a wall of old photos and press clippings. Planning had started in the 1930's - much earlier than I suspected.

Outside in an enclosure there are a mountain lion and bobcat. In a large loft we look at raptors, including a bald eagle and golden eagle. Impressive. It is raining harder. We drive around the rest of the park, peering through the rain for the miniature golf (closed) and horseback rides (darn-summer months only), and lodge(missed the turn - oh, well).

A while later, the rain has lessened. We park and hike the west side trail along the lake. There are some nice views. Emily handles the hiking well, including a few awkward climbs over downed trees. But after half an hour she announces that we should turn around when we get to the next open view. We do that.

We go back to the campsite after procuring firewood. Rain has stopped. Next project: start the campfire. Emily has been waiting for this. We coax some decent flames from the kindling and gingerly add in larger wood. The fire takes off the chill and makes us feel like real campers. A sudden shower surprises us; we sprint for the van.

Just then Amy and Catrina arrive in their van with real food - brats, beans, and such. The rain stops - for good. We enjoy the food, stoke the fire, dodge the smoke, and have fun being together.




Later, after dark, Amy and Catrina leave for home and warm beds. We survivors head to the RV campground for a halloween festival, including the scare trail. It is a series of trail stops where they try to scare the hell out of you. We sign up. Emily squirms as we wait, clearly anxious about what horrors lie ahead. She clutches her dad's hand and occasionally screams as we endure slamming doors, blood soaked murders, snarling dogs, and chain saw killers. Wow. It was really well done.

Back to camp for a campfire warm up and off to bed. Gregg decided to sleep in the van. I stayed in the other tent. Everyone slept well and stayed warm. Up at daylight. I managed to restart the fire. Emily emerged from her tent and helped me keep the fire going. After a hearty pop tart and oatmeal breakfast, we go home.

Driving home, I recount the activities. I was grateful for a successful outing, complete with the rainy part. Any outdoor outing will have to cope with the weather; better to learn adaptive behavior right from the start. I will remember this trip; I hope there are many more for Emily.

Snake Rescue

Every year, we hear of fish and sea animals becoming tangled in human trash - from fishing line to soda pop plastic bottle holders. Then there is the occasional video of a raccoon with its head stuck in a jar. I never expected such an event in Bittersweet Woods.

It happened on a Saturday afternoon recently. Our three grandchildren had just arrived for their annual week long visit. All of us started out on a daily ritual dog walk - their mastiff and boxer, along with our two old english sheepdogs. We ambled along the lower yard, headed for the trail along the creek.

I noticed a dark spot in the grass. Figured it was some yard detritus or a forgotten flower pot. Then it came more fully into view - a black rat snake with..........something. First I thought the snake had some prey wrapped up. Then to my dismay I could see that the snake was entangled in a ball of plastic netting the size of a soccer ball.

The snake was not going to live long in that state. It had only limited mobility, could not constrict any prey, and was likely unable to swallow anything. We snapped into rescue mode. I carried the snake to the house. Connor and Suz hustled after the tools needed to cut away the netting - scissors and fine cuticle scissors.




I held the snake while Connor cut away the larger outer netting cluster. The snake had become so entangled that cords of the netting dug were creased into its skin. Suz put on the most powerful reading glasses she has and went to work on the netting imbedded in the skin. In a few minutes, the snake was unbound; the last of the netting fell away.




Connor held it for the photo opportunity session. Then we marched down to a wood pile and released it. Fortunately, it seemed to move normally. It had probably been bound up for some time and may not have lived much longer.




The experience was unique, and gratifying. The grandkids had all participated, learned that snakes are not hostile monsters, and that humans can exert a negative
(and in this case, positive) influence on our natural environment.

It was one more lesson in life from Bittersweet Woods.

Raccoons r us

I took the dogs for an early morning hike down the trail before leaving for golf. It was the least I do for Suz before I vanished for several hours of shamelessly unproductive recreation. She was busy getting ready for a major landscaping project.

The sun was bright, filtering through the tree canopy. There were lots of spider webs. Some were on my face after I walked through them. Wood thrushes offered up their fluted songs, silently flitting away as the dogs and I moved down the trail.

We reached the top of the steep hill which drops down to the waterfall area of the creek. The dogs took off down the hill and across the creek. Then they stopped, on alert. The was more crunching in the underbrush; something was moving around. I figured it was a turkey or squirrels.

I scanned the area and saw nothing. Then I notice a dark object scurrying up a large tree. It was a raccoon - appeared to be a juvenile. They are cute enough, but they can be ferocious if cornered. Then a high pitched snarling pierced the quiet of the valley. The dogs had apparently cornered another raccoon. The snarling kept on. Gabbie and Tess weren't backing off. I couldn't see yet as I hurried down the hill. My concern was if the dogs persisted too much, the raccoon could inflict some uncomfortable scratches or bites.

When I arrived, there were two dogs facing one petrified juvenile raccoon trapped in the water. In it's haste to get away it had landed in a deep pool of the creek. Only its head was visible above water. It was making enough noise to be mistaken for a mountain lion. But I had heard the sound before, so I knew instantly what was going on. With the coon in the water, the dogs could move in close. But they sheepishly backed off every time another round of snarling erupted.

I coaxed them away from the coon. It slunk from the water, looked back, and gave us a final passing snarl.

We often see coon tracks in the creek bed, but have rarely seen one before. Several years ago, coons were terrorizing our yard at night. We would set out live traps and relocate the trapped ones elsewhere. That is where I became familiar with the hissing and snarling.

Another day, another curious critter encounter in Bittersweet Woods.

Love in the afternoon

It was April 24, 2010, a warm and sunny day. Suz and I walked the dogs down the trail, as we do most days. We rounded a jog in the trail, headed for the waterfall. I glanced up and couldn't believe what I saw. It was a snake curled up on an ironwood tree branch extending out near the trail, about 15 feet above ground. As I looked closer, there were so many loops of snake that it must be a huge snake. Or, was it two snakes interlocked? I walked around the tree and finally saw the head of the second snake.

Apparently they were mating, in broad daylight for all to see. We coaxed the dogs out of the way - they never even noticed the snakes draped above us. I ran to get the camera. Click click. Pretty amazing. We would probably never see anything like that again. But we did. For the next week, we saw these snakes 2 more times in the same place, in the same pose, at about the same time. Then they disappeared, except we saw two snake skins hanging from the branches of that ironwood tree several days later.

Somewhere in Bittersweet Woods there are black rat snake youths roaming around, along with the parents. I'm sure we'll see some of them again - at home in Bittersweet Woods.

Emily the Explorer

Emily, on left, with sister Catrina.

It was Easter weekend 2010. Sunday capped off a beautiful week of unseasonably warm weather. Granddaughter Emily (age 8)asked me if we could explore the creek after church. Sure, I added enthusiastically, figuring I might not hear any more about it.

She and her brother Connor had a wonderful time exploring the creek last summer. But the novelty wore off because we were doing some brush and logjam clearing. He had no interest this time. The exploring terminology reminded me of one of her favorite TV shows for preschoolers - Dora the Explorer. After church she asked again. So, we pulled on rubber boots, and went exploring for real.

This time we kept the work part more manageable - mainly picking up large branches, clipping off intrusive multiflora rose, and clearing small log jams. It's fun to explore the creek. We get to walk through the water and mud while hopping over occasional logs. The stream has several nice rivulets and small waterfalls. I pointed out deer and racoon tracks. Several birds chirped in the background, flitting around in the canopy above us, carefully monitoring our intrusion into their space. Some wildflowers were out. Two frogs and a crawdad roiled the water briefly as we sloshed by them. Water striders roamed the still pools, defying gravity with their knack for using surface tension to walk on water.

We approached the waterfall, the highlight of any trip down the creek. First we had to check out a suspicious object on the hill above the falls. Suz had observed a white patch and an old lawn chair up on the hill. For months, we commented on it every time we hiked by it, but had never actually gone up to see it. She wanted to know what it was, but was fearful the object would be a decayed corpse, abandoned still, or other sinister object.

We bushwacked bravely up the hill. We came upon the remains of a former camp, most likely that of neighborhood teens. There was a chair, collapsed table, and the dreaded white object - which we could definitively indentify as an old sleeping bag with the insulation exposed. We could now report that these items were harmless. The area is secure. Law enforcement need not be called in.

We next explored the falls itself. I kept expecting Emily to say that she'd had enough exploring and could we go back home. Nope. And my subtle hints that we might be missed at home went unheeded. We needed to keep going. The area below the falls is pretty - very wide open, free of blockages, and has several fairly deep pools. We explored that area and could see and hear traffic on the Interstate.



Finally, I had to declare the exploration over. "Why?" she asked. "Because they'll wonder where we are," I answered. We hiked back. A chipmunk skittered across the trail. It was a magical grandkid experience for me - a special time that could easily be overlooked in the hubbub. She may forget about it, but our brief Bittersweet Woods creek expedition will stay with me forever.