The Newfoundland Expedition, August 2011, Part lV

Abigail and Japhy enjoy a sunny, windy day at the Tablelands!

Our next adventure in Newfoundland was one of the longest, too.  Not in hours but in activity and movement.   We got up early and ate, then headed out to the Tablelands, a rocky, barren area that is the real reason that Gros Morne was chosen and designated as an UNESCO World Heritage Site, with surface rocks from the earth's mantle, that closely resemble the geology of Mars.  NASA is even doing research there for their eventual trip to the Red Planet.

Peridotite, from the Earth's Mantle

The Amazing, Delicious, 'Trista Bars'

Nicole is a serious geology student and enthusiast, and she loves rocks almost as much as mushrooms and farming!    She was in heaven, and we all were amazed by the ways the landscape looked like the desert Southwest.   It was awesome!   We had a wonderful Ranger to showed us all kinds of things about the rocks, calcium deposits, all kinds of ways plants and trees were adapting to the harsh winds, poor soils and difficult terrain.  He was great, funny and had a wonderful presentation that was warm and friendly.

The Tablelands, Gros Morne National Park, Western Newfoundland, Canada

We walked up the end of the trail, and seriously contemplated climbing the ridge to the top and traveling along the crest to descend into the basin where the waterfalls were flowing, but the wind was intense and we had other places to go.

The incredibly tough and resourceful pitcher plant

Still, it was hard to go to Trout Brook and pull Ben and Abigail from this adventure.   I still feel guilty about it!   Seriously!   (Ben, if you are reading this, I promise we will make that hike/climb next summer!)

We snacked on sandwiches, fruit, some chips, and the awesome chocolate chip, coconut, and walnut bars that Trista made for us for our trip.  We called these 'Trista Bars' and one of them, heck, even half of one, would keep you from feeling hungry for a few hours.   And they really tasted great.  Very homey and warm and we loved them during our long drives and hikes.

We traveled to the end of the road, and saw another fishing community and valleys wide and vast that just begged to be explored and experienced...

Serpentine?  Nicole probably knows
what it is for sure!

We ended up stopping at the Park's Visitors Center in Woody Point.  It is fantastic.  It is modern, and beautiful, and the art!   The Art!   There are Artist's in Residence whose work covered the walls, and the children's art of the park wildlife was so sweet and insightful that it touched us!  Well, I am pretty sure that it did for me and Nicole, but I can't say for sure for the rest of our group.

The Tablelands Boardwalk Trail

The large relief map of Gros Morne was especially insightful.   We didn't realize how tall Berry Hill was, or how massive Gros Morne Mountain was either, or how deep the fjiords were in Western Brook Pond.   We talked to some of the rangers about fishing, and hiking the Long Range Traverse, which we were still debating hiking at some point on our trip.

Peas Pudding, Salt Beef (Corned Beef),
Potatoes, Beets, Carrots, Turnips, Stuffing,
Blueberry Cake Pudding, Pickled Peppers
and lots of Gravies!

 After we left the Visitor's Center, we drove back through the forests and waterfalls and mountains and meadows, seeing moose again and rivers that looked like they were loaded with fish.   We stopped at the Gros Morne Mountain trailhead, and hiked up to the first lookout, over a rushing stream.   We saw moose antler rubs, on huge saplings.   We found bunchberries everywhere, and birch trees, spruces, balsam firs and lots of birch and alders.

Abigail enjoys the Jigg's Dinner

It was starting to get late, so we headed down to explore Rocky Harbor, and get some money exchanged at the bank and do some shopping.   Louise Decker had shown us a flyer for a community fundraiser at a local church called a "Jigg's Dinner", and we wanted to check it out.

We went through a couple of stores and craft shops, and I got some Cloudberry Jelly and Partridge Berry preserves, too, as well as some postcards to send home.    There were sweaters, and mittens and socks, all hand made, and there were a lot of polar fleece jackets and rain gear items that looked like tourist travelers would grab them up when it got cold and foggy outside in all seasons.   Luckily, it was sunny and warm, so we were all set.

Ben chows down!

We headed up to the church, where we saw the signs and the cars!  It was filling up fast, so we went inside and got tickets!   Then we sat down, and saw that Harold Snow, our park ranger friend, was there, with his wife, and lots of other local folks.   Ben sat next to an older woman whose accent was so strong I doubt he understood a quarter of what she was saying!   But she was so kind and sweet and they had a good time!

I sat next to a guy from Nova Scotia who told me stories of the "black flies in Labrador that were so intense that they covered your arm if you rolled down your window to adjust your mirror... your arm would look black and then when you wiped them off, it would be bloody!"

Yeah, really makes me want to go there...  (Maybe after it gets cold?)

When they called my number, we got to go up as a group for plates of home made food that was hearty and flavorful, with all kinds of vegetables, meats, 'puddings' and sauces that really hit the spot after a long day of hiking and driving.   Local preserves, pickles, gravies, everything...   We were all so glad we went!  I was so full I didn't even go up for desert.   The hardest thing was that it was difficult to hear in the large room with so many people having good conversations.  I wanted to hear everything about what these people were saying, and share some time with them.   It was a great feeling.

The boardwalk trail to Baker's Brook Falls

Ranger Harold heard that Nicole and Abigail wanted to go up to Baker's Brook Falls, so he invited us to hike out there with him, to work off the meal.   We met in the parking lot and started off down the trail.   It was a long series of wooden boardwalks, passing over bogs and wetlands, to protect the roots of the trees and plants.   Ranger Harold is tall and has a stride like an elk, moving swiftly and easily in a subtle, kilometer eating gait that left us in the dust a few times.   We passed through areas where the moose had been eating and scraping their antlers, and I was grateful for the momentary breaks where Harold told us stories about the trees and different park issues to catch my breath for the next section of trail.  

The clearings in the northern forests

The trail passed through open areas and was fairly level, across a lightly sloping plain that led us towards the river.   The sunlight was soft and hazy in the evening light, and I stopped for a few pictures every chance I got.   When we got to the river, we took pictures at some of the overlooks, and the water was high and loud.   It was tannic, like most of the waters of Newfoundland, with that deep brown tea color that looked almost black in the fading light.

It is hard to describe what it feels like to actually be standing in this place, with air fresh and moist...

Ranger Harold Snow, Nicole, Abigail, me and Ben
at Baker's Brook Falls

Harold headed us back as quickly as we came, knowing we had many kilometers still to go on our return trip.   As we moved down through the meadows, the clearings of fallen trees, we saw the clear, huge outline of a bull moose, it's antlers jutting upwards against the western sky.  It's shoulders were huge, and it looked ten feet tall.   Everyone was hushed as it moved in our direction, feeding and fearless of our presence.   It was our first close encounter with a moose, and we tried to take pictures but it was too dark to capture the dark haired beast.   We moved on, letting him feed in peace, and saw another, and then another, each in their own clearing, crashing along, smashing small branches with their large hooves and strong legs.

The walk back seemed longer in the deepening gloom, but inside, our hearts were full of an amazing day of great food, great learnings, powerful encounters with stone and animals and waters of this place.   It felt really, really good to head back to camp and crawl into my sleeping bag and slip into a deep, restful sleep.

To Be Continued...

The Newfoundland Expedition, August 2011, Part lll

A hand made lobster trap made with spruce boughs

Okay, so, in Part lll of our Expedition blog, I have to explain a few things.   First of all, I have to say that our trip was not just a sight seeing adventure.   We were seeking something else, something deeper and powerful, a connection to the land where huge beasts roam, through thick, primordial green forests and crystal waters and ancient ice giants.   

We wanted to be affected by these places, and feel something, and see if something deep and ancient would awaken inside of us.   

At least, that was the feeling I had when we would all be packed in our car.   Everyone would be quiet and looking outside the windows, absorbing everything.  We would stop someplace amazing and fall out of the car and just gaze in every direction, each in our own way soaking it all in...

The rocks at Broom Point

Japhy, Ben, Abigail and myself are all Waldorf School graduates.   Japhy had attended the Aurora Waldorf School in East Aurora, NY (near Buffalo), Ben and Abigail had attended the Waldorf School of Baltimore, and I attended the Sacramento Waldorf School in California and Hawthorne Valley Waldorf School in the Hudson Valley of NY.   So that shared background helped provide fun stories, jokes and we had a lot of creativity in our adventures.   

And Nicole, well, she is pretty creative and expressive too.   In the past summer, she helped start a Farm/Garden Camp in the city of Atlanta, which is incredible, and has been involved in a lot of different initiatives and interests like mushrooms, plants, geology and gardening.   We had some interesting conversations!

The ropes are hung to dry in the barn

Hand carved native
 spruce net floats!

Louise gifts us with Newfoundland Tartan

There is something about a road trip that magnifies or compresses time.   On this trip, we never knew what was around the corner, or down the road, or where we were going next except in the most general sense, and each day, each hour seemed to bring us to a wonderful new world.    

On this day, our first in Gros Morne, we woke to rain.   Our tent was a little leaky but we were doing well.  One thing that we discovered was the Berryhill Campground Kitchen Shelter.   It was amazing!   There are two big sinks with hot and cold water, and a large modern lean to with lights and two woodstoves, where we could warm up, dry out our clothes, even cook on the top of the stove.   Some of the park rangers dropped off some wood for us, as we made breakfast of bagels, toast, eggs and cereal.  It was awesome!   We spent some time chatting with the rangers, who were happy to talk seeing as most of the rest of the campers had cleared out due to the rain.   

On the wall of the lean to was a calendar with the Gros Morne Park Interpretive Programs schedule, and their descriptions looked good, so we headed up the coast to Broom Point to see the cultural and historical interpretive presentation about fishing and the history of the coastal towns in the park.

Louise's fish cutting knife,
simple but highly effective!

This peg board helped her
keep track of the lobster traps

Louise Decker was just a young woman when she started fishing, and we learned all about how she built her first dory with her new husband and took to the seas to catch cod and lobster.   We learned about the newly built roads that connected these small communities by land for the first time in over three hundred years.   Her accent took a bit to get used to, but it was wonderful.   Her stories were full of emotion, with lots of humor, toughness, and grief from the loss of the fishery crash and friends lost at sea.   

We learned about lobsters, about how she cut and cleaned the fish, preparing it for salting and drying.   It was wonderful and she made small nets expertly and gave them to people in the audience.   She had small, handmade tools for just about every job, all hand crafted from native woods, and things found or salvaged from other items, demonstrating creativity and practicality.   

Louise Decker's
Fishcakes and Cod Nuggets!

Because she was one of the first women to fish, she had to make her own tools to fit her smaller hands and size, but you can tell that she pulled her own weight every day.   Each item was well worn, with years of use.   They reminded me of certain knives I have used for years at Hawk Circle, or hatchets, with handles worn smooth from strong hands, weather, and long hours of carving or chopping...   

After her stories, demonstrations, questions and answer period and showing us the boats, nets, tools and buildings, she invited us inside for tea, molasses cookies, home made cod cakes and cod nuggets that she had prepared and cooked for us earlier in the wood fired cookstove.   Her stories never stopped and she never stood still for a moment, passing out food and strips of cloth Newfoundland Tartan for us to take home. 

Lobster Cove Lighthouse

All of this was totally unexpected and greatly appreciated, and we had many warm conversations and good feelings with Louise as well as the other park visitors.   Then the sun came out and turned the water from a gray black to a brilliant blue, and we could even begin to see the shapes of the massive Long Range Mountains, (northern most tip of the Appalachian Mountains) behind the clouds.   We sat in the warmth, enjoying the fresh sea air, the scent of balsam fir and salt and took it all in.

Eventually we headed back, to explore other parts of the park.   It wasn't long before we saw our first group of moose in the daylight!   They were massive and strong, crushing small trees with their feet and their long legs easily stepping over logs and seedlings as they browsed along the lush plants near the roadway.   We watched them for a long time, taking pictures and talking in low whispers about everything we were seeing.

When the moose had gone into the deeper brush, we went further, stopping just before the campsite to check out the Lighthouse at Lobster Cove.   We hung out there for a while, enjoying the calls of a raven who sat upon the tower and croaked to us throughout the late afternoon.   We had a great view of Rocky Harbor, whose local pronunciation was something like "Roque 'arbor", with the H being silent and the whole name spoken as one word.   It never felt natural for me to say it like that, so I am glad there wasn't a test!   Rocky Harbor is a small town that had craft stores, food, supplies and a few restaurants, so we drove through it and then headed back to the camp to make dinner.

Looking South from the Lighthouse

If I didn't say our dinner of Burritos with Black Beans and Pinto Beans, cheese and all kinds of toppings, was awesome and delicious, I know our group would kill me!  We ate and then headed up to the top of Berry Hill to see if we could see any moose coming out in the meadows and bogs to feed in the growing dusk.   The trail winds around this little nub of a hill like a corkscrew, and at the top, continues around in a circle for views in every direction.  The sunset was orange and red and we did see several moose in the far distance, which was cool.   The sky had cleared and it was looking like a nice night with a nice day to follow.

To Be Continued...

The Newfoundland Expedition, August 2011, Part ll

Abigail sleeps well in the car!

We were all exhausted from our two full days of driving, packing, shopping and then the late night and early morning ferry ride pushed us all a little over the edge, so we decided to try to find a place to crash as soon as possible so we could all rest.   We saw a place an hour or so north, a provincial park called Barachois Pond, so we headed up the TransCanada Highway.   I would say, within fifteen minutes of driving, everyone was asleep except me and Japhy!   We drove through forests, along the coast for a short while and past small towns, and small houses near the main road.   The low clouds were misting some rain here and there, and we passed over several bridges over some wild rivers and streams that looked inviting, but I didn't stop until we got there.   The sky cleared too, and the sun arrived.   It soon got hot enough to swim, once we found our campsite and got our tent up, so we went into the water, which turned out to be very tannic and tea colored.  It was surprisingly warm, too, and felt good on my skin, reminding me of the cedar swamp Pine Barrens water of central New Jersey.

The Tannic Waters of Barachois Pond!

I retired for a much needed nap and when I awoke, dinner was ready.   Ben, Nicole, Japhy and Abigail had found some freshwater mussels and cooked them up with spaghetti noodles and sauce, which was an amazing meal.   We even found a few tiny pearls in some of those shells!   After dinner, we all walked up to the bathrooms and showers, to clean up, fill up our water bottles and hang out.   I sat and talked to one of the park rangers who was checking out the facilities, and he stopped and visited for easily thirty or forty minutes.   It was our first real taste of the famed Newfie friendliness!   We talked about health care, about US politics, about the park and the best trails, and the different things to see along the western coast, and much more.   He was really interested in learning about where we were from, and he couldn't believe that our country didn't have national healthcare.   He kept telling us about how he had such a small deductible for just about any visit!   He was a very warm person and very proud of the park and the trails and beautiful wilderness areas we could see all around us.  

Erin Mountain and Barachois Pond, Newfoundland

Moose Droppings!

On his recommendation, we decided to hike up Erin Mountain, our first hike on the Rock!   We made some bagels for breakfast, in the rain, and then packed up some stuff for our walk and headed up.   It was about 6 kilometers, and seemed to take a while to walk through the rest of the campground to get to the bridge and the trailhead, but once we got there, we were in the woods!   Moss was everywhere, growing thick and soft, covering almost the entire forest floor.  Moose tracks and scat were scattered along the trail as well, with broken and heavily browsed twigs and branches lining the wetlands near the path.   The air was deeply fresh and smelled of balsam fir, spruce and tamarack, and more than anything, was just, well, clean, for lack of a better word.   It was pure, fresh air and it was delicious!  

Taking a rest in light rain on Erin Mountain

The trail had nice boardwalks in stretches that turned into stairs that led ever higher towards the summit, and we got to the top for an incredible view.  The rain and wind had increased, blowing horizontally at times and the forest gave way to a rocky barrens covered in low shrubbery that provides forage for caribou.   It was 'tuckermore' as far as the eyes could see!   We didn't see any caribou out there, but there were small ponds, streams and low growing trees that were thick and strong.   Bunchberries grew in vast patches everywhere.   I even saw a few blueberries!   We could see far in many directions, with mountains and even a glimpse of a great bay far to the west.  It was well worth the intense climb!

Enjoying the wind and rain!

The wind picked up and we headed down the mountain.  By the time we got to the bridge it was sunny and warming up.   It didn't take long to pack up our campsite and load up the car for the trip north towards Corner Brook, and then up past Deer Lake and into Gros Morne.  Gros Morne is the jewel of Newfoundland, with huge mountains along the coast, fast rivers, vast forests, a unique area where the earth's geologic mantle is exposed called the Tablelands, and the fjiords!  And moose!   I had researched these places online all winter and spring, and it was exciting to be so close to seeing it all!

Once on the road, we somehow got the idea in our heads that we wanted to taste Newfoundland Cod, or Fish and Chips, or something from the local area, so when we got to Corner Brook, the largest urban area on the west coast, we were very hungry!   We started asking around to get the low down on where to go.

  "C&E's" is the best place, in Mt Moriah, but it's a little out of the way" was the answer we got most of the time.   But when pressed for something closer than 5 miles, they said we should try Jungle Jim's.   So, we tried it.   Lodged up against a hotel, near the highway, we walked into a Canadian version of Applebee's, TGI Fridays or Chili's.   And there was a waiting time of thirty minutes!   Back in the car we went!

C&E's Menu: Big Eric highly recommended!

Our humble eatery, and hidden treasure!

We wound around through Corner Brook and found ourselves deep in the suburban neighborhoods overlooking the beautiful bay, past the pulp mill and piles of logs, and along a small road looking for C& E's.    I imagined it to look like a little seafood restaurant off the coast of Maine, all cute and rustic, maybe some rustic looking artwork or something, so we kept driving and looking.   We passed it the first time, before we realized what it was.   (See photo).

The Seafood Platter!

Anyway, despite the ordinary exterior, the ladies behind the counter were super friendly and helpful and explained everything on the menu.   So we ordered.   We got our food.  We ate.   We believed!  We were in heaven.   Sure, the ambiance was suburban drab mixed with roadside burger stand, but cars just kept coming and ordering, and the business was hoppin'.   We weren't the only ones who were in on the secret!    I ordered the Seafood Platter, with scallops, shrimp, a large piece of fresh Cod and clams.   And coleslaw.   And fries!   It was soooooooo gooooood!    Well worth the drive!

After we finished we rolled ourselves back in the car, and headed towards Gros Morne's Berry Hill Campground, our next camping destination.   We passed incredible rivers, but soon the rain closed in, and the clouds dropped, and darkness settled on us, so we drove through the rain and dark, with most everyone sleeping as we went.   The highway dropped steeply in places, and we saw our first moose in the road, in the black, speeding by.   SCARY!   Those things are huge!   (And we see signs everywhere about the moose danger, so I drove a little slower once that happened, but we were very close so it was good!)  We unloaded in the rain, set up our tent, covered it with rain tarps and got to sleep.   It was a good day and we were ready for rest!

To Be Continued...

The Newfoundland Expedition, August, 2011

 

 Abigail's smiling because it is our first day of driving!

Ever since I was a kid, I have wanted to go north.   I know those stories about White Fang and To Build A Fire, by Jack London, or any of the Farley Mowatt books.   However, ever since 1989, I have run summer camps all summer, and never got up there.

Makin' dinner in Nova Scotia

This past August, I finally got my chance!  I chose Newfoundland, as it was as far as we could go while still driving, and it was new terrain and a new culture too.  I was accompanied by Nicole Bluh, Ben Gallagher, Abigail Liss and Japhy Czysz, and we packed our gear into my Xterra and headed north.    There is a funny story about getting my passport renewed, and all of our camping gear organized, etc, but I won't go into all that drama! Eventually, we were packed and we headed out.   My vehicle was packed to the roof and even the roof rack was loaded too.   We first went to Albany and picked up Japhy at the Albany bus station, and then went to the health food store to stock up on some bulk items, (along with some very strange cheeses that Japhy got and shared with us!)  

The Onion Roadrunner

We stopped at REI in Framingham a few hours later, for some last minute camping gear, and then headed towards New Hampshire and Maine.   The landscape began to change as we moved into more coniferous forests, but it was still summer and we were feeling good!       We camped by a river off of the main highway someplace near the border of New Brunswick that first night.  

On the Ferry, looking east

In the morning, we met up with Nicole, Max, Brigitte and Charles Meneveaux just before we crossed the border.   They were just returning from a road trip to Newfoundland, Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island, and we got all of the lowdown on bugs, moose and their adventures.   They gave us some of their maps marked with cool places to go, as well as some travel guides and other info they had gathered on their journeys.  It was really helpful, and we were even more excited after hearing some of their stories.

Sunrise on the Ferry!  (It's a huge boat!)

Port aux Basques, in it's natural habitat

Eventually, we said farewell, and got to the border.   Crossing into Canada took about an hour, and then we were in New Brunswick!   That's when we began to experience Canadian culture, in the different road speeds (kilometers) gas (litres) and food (Tim Horton's)!   New Brunswick was heavily forested with vast plateaus of conifers, including white pines, spruces, tamarack and hemlock.   We didn't see a lot of mountainous areas, but it was still a change from Maine and New England.   It just felt different, somehow.   We drove for many hours and then began descending out of the hills towards Nova Scotia.   We were still heading mostly east at this point, and the forest gave way slightly to fields and farmland amidst the woods.   Nova Scotia had more flat land and some good farms, but there was a ton of woods and forest still, too.   We stopped in the late afternoon someplace in the middle of that province, off of the main highway, along a small logging road, to make dinner and rest.   It was hot, and I slept for an hour or so while the crew made a bowl of refried beans, chili and black beans, which we made into nachos.   We even found a piece of wood that looked like a road runner and gave it an onion skin hat...   We had a lot of creative energy that needed a little outlet!

The Northernmost End of the Appalachian Mountains

We drove through occasional rain and kept heading northeast to Sydney, a town on the far eastern corner of the province, to catch the ferry to Newfoundland.   Our reservations were for 4:30 am, but we learned that we needed to be there two hours early for loading, so we ended up getting there around 11:00 pm.   We got in line and then tried to sleep for a few hours in the car, on the roof of the ferry building, even on the chairs in the lounge...  Eventually, we drove onto the boat, which was huge, by the way, and headed up to the passenger decks.   The ferry ride was six to seven hours long, depending on wind, currents and other conditions, and I tried to sleep as much as I could.   Abigail had slept during the afternoon drive so she was awake for the sunrise on the top deck, and eventually we all met up in the cafe/lounge to get our first glimpse of 'the Rock' as they call Newfoundland in the Canadian Maritimes.

The fog and light rain had begun when the ferry was about a half hour from the town of Port aux Basques, and the buildings we saw clinging to the rugged coastline were small and trim, with lots of trucks and boats and other fishing type equipment around many of them.   It reminded me of some of the working towns in New York and New England, with an emphasis on practicality and function.   The surprising thing that stood out was the lack of glitz, slick advertising and opulent buildings flaunting wealth and design.   The Mall was a long, plain, one story building with a flat roof that housed stores whose names we didn't recognize, and a large parking lot with mini-vans and trucks.   The differences in culture and values showed in many small and larger ways all throughout our visit up the western coast.

Alder thickets

Outside of the city, we left almost every sign of human habitation within a few kilometers, passing just a few roads and houses right off the TransCanada Highway.   The landscape was instantly dominated by looming mountains, intense green thickets of alder, tamarack and spruce (called tuckermoor  or simply 'tuck' by the locals).   We jumped out of the car off the side of the highway and tried to clamber through the brush to get to a good viewpoint of the mountains, only to be thwarted by water, rough stones hidden in the sticks and branches that clung to our clothes, as if holding us back.   Only Ben made it to some rocks high above the road, while the rest of us studied fireweed and the many plants blooming everywhere and taking pictures.
                         (To Be Continued...)

Mother's Day

It's a day like any other, except it isn't.   It's about your Mother.   You remember?   The person who carried you around for nine months, at great personal cost, then gave birth to you, then cared for you for years while you pooped, threw up, fell down, bumped your knees, learned to talk, have tantrums and get sassy.   Does that ring a bell?    Well, it should, because it's today.

I was thinking about Mother's Day because of two things.   The first one is because of the Earth.   The Earth is the mother to all of us.   She cares for us, provides for us, gives us everything we need to live our lives and be part of the world.   She provides pure water, fertile soils, fresh air, beautiful flowers and birds and gentle rains.   She offers delicious foods, spices and sweet juices.   She has animals and fish to help us as well.   She offers all of these things for us to make our homes, our families and our communities good places for us all.

Except we don't respect her gifts.  We think we can make them better, so we mess around with the seeds.   We tear up the ground digging and drilling and bulldozing and mining.    We spill our oil and we poison our lawns.   We foul the air with our smoke and our chemicals.   We throw away mountains of trash in our oceans and our soils, and expect her to take care of it for us.    We don't respect her gifts or her, or really recognize her importance in our lives.

Have you ever had someone who left, who walked away when you took them for granted?   Have you ever felt that feeling where you woke up and realized you took so much for granted, and you never shared how you really felt, or showed how you felt with your actions to back it up?  Like when we don't stand up for a person who needs someone to 'have their back'?   Don't we do that to the Earth day in and day out every day?

Yeah, I know what you're thinkin'.   "Hey Rick, we already have a day for the Earth," you remind me.  "It's called Earth Day, you know?"  

Well, I don't think it is enough.   We should call her by her real name, Mother.   Because that is what she is.   And honestly, I don't think picking up some trash or remembering to recycle once a year is really what we need right now.   We need a lot more.  

We need a big shift.   A new mindset that brings about results and creates change.   We need to experience it personally, ourselves, and it needs to be powerful.   We need a deep inner change, not a bunch of minor action once a year.   We need to then act on it every day, every time, and speak our truth about it and have Her back.  

The scary thing is, we only get once chance at this.   Once she is gone, we don't get a second chance.   (See Japan's blown nuclear Reactor for more details about this.   Or Chernobyl.   Or fill in the blank Superfund Site.)    Once we really mess up, it is gone forever, for all of us.   FOREVER.

So I am thinking of her on this Earth Day, and raising a hand carved timber frame from sustainable wood grown locally.   We built it with old tools, most from the mid 1800's, hand made by blacksmiths almost 200 years ago.   We love those old tools, the chisels, the broad axes, the saws and drawknives.   We love working with wood, and making something beautiful that will last for years and generations.   It is our way of giving back and helping our communities and the land.

The second thing I was thinking about was my personal mom.   Which got me to thinking about my past and my family.   About how it was tough for her, raising three kids, alone, and moving from California to New York when I was nine, in 1973, and trying to figure things out.    She worked hard to raise us, and I know she wished she could have done more for us, as our family grew to five kids, all with needs and demands that she alone just couldn't meet.  It wasn't easy, but there were some good things that helped.  

One was nature.   I always had a love of the outdoors and play and adventure, and she encouraged this throughout my formative years.   I roamed freely the woods, fields, swamps and mountains, and got to be out more than I was in.   It made a huge difference for me, and it is one that helps me offer this to the students that come to us.   For this I am grateful and happy.

The second was enrolling me in the Waldorf School.   I was first a student at the Sacramento Waldorf School and then when we moved to New York, at the Hawthorne Valley Waldorf School.   Both where pioneering schools then, still growing and finding their way.  I know it was challenging for the teachers and the parents and the kids in lots and lots of ways.   But this helped me tons, and I had lots of mentors and people who cared about me and my friends and I was inspired and given tools.   Lots and lots and lots of tools.   And skills, and ways of seeing and being that make a difference.

So thanks, Mom.   You did good.  You still do good.   I love you both.   Have a happy day!

Earth Skills Semester Program student goes Bark Crazy!

It is always great when a past student gives you an idea of what they have done with the foundation of skills you provided years ago, and let's you know how you have impacted their life and those around them through your time spent together.   Stefan Thompson is just one such student.   He has made all kinds of bark shelters that are more than just a structure.  They are works of art, a labor of love and actually create community through their building and daily life.   There is a magic to them that you can feel as you sit and warm yourself by the fire, drink a cup of herbal tea or cook something good over the coals....

I don't think most people really get how much work it is to gather and peel the amount of bark you need to have to make a shelter like this.   It is just massive, and getting long, wide, thick sheets of birch bark is just so precious!   I am looking forward to getting some pics of the insides of these places, and the people who put them all together, too...

I just wanted to let you know that while most people aren't going to build a wigwam to live in through the Canadian winters, you could!   That says a lot for the type of training Hawk Circle students get when they spend a longer time here, exploring their natural world and their place in it...  These shelters look like they belong here, and like they are part of the living landscape!   The natural artwork is really great, too.

Nice work, Stefan and thanks for sharing this with us all!    Very inspiring!

View from the tree stand: A bow hunter's story

There are a lot of things that happen when I go bow hunting. First, there is getting up early. That in itself, is a change of routine for me, as I am usually more of a night owl. Then, there are the clothing/scent issues. Staying clean, warm and smelling like the woods is important. I try to dress quickly, and check to see how cold it is, to see how many layers I will need to stay warm while sitting still for those cold hours.

Once outside, I figure out which way the wind is blowing, as this will help me determine where to go. I head out along the trails, moving as silently as possible in the dim light. When I get to my spot, I either climb my tree stand, or I will sit at the base of a tree, or jumble of logs and branches and settle in. It is important to get comfortable as I know I am going to be there for a while.

Then, I drift in and out of sleep, my awareness moving from the direction of the wind, light tendrils of dream consciousness pulling me to relax, the smell of the woods, the sounds of the red squirrels waking up and chickadees trilling in the ironwoods. If I am by a small stream or spring, I can hear the steady trickle of water that can sound both faint and loud. I am not sure why it suddenly can seem so loud that it is all I hear, and then it can almost disappear.

The forest lightens as the sun rises, and trees and branches come into sharp relief. The colors of the November woods is beautiful, with greys, browns, black and tan colors melding together so softly, waiting for the snow that is sure to come soon.

I lean against my tree, and feel my heartbeat, my breath rhythmical and deep, and the forest begins to envelop my senses, accepting me as part of the whole system. It is a good feeling and it makes me happy, knowing I belong and am home again.

The sound of hooves crunching through leaves comes sharply, startling me, and my heart jumps. Tiny twigs break as a deer approaches. My senses come alive as I strain to see the first glimpse of the forest ghost, the white tail. The direction of travel, my scent trail, the wind and shadows all come into play as I sit up, and ready my arrow. Any discomfort, cold or cramps are gone, and there is nothing except the pure focus of the predator.

I wait perfectly still, heart still pounding. The deer pauses, hesitating, and nibbling on raspberry canes, waiting for something. There is no sense of fear, of warning or stress, and I imagine myself a shadow along the tree, or a slight, drifting mist, no longer human hunter but only benign forest elemental being.

The deer steps into the trail, coming closer, step by step. I see that she is a yearling, a small tiny deer, hardly bigger than my dog. She is stout and strong, but I know that this is not my deer. It resonates deep in my chest, my gut, and I lower my bow, ever so slowly. The deer turns to look behind, and I see her mother, walking along the river trail, away from my stand, and the little deer runs to catch up. They both move quietly and slowly, and in a flash, they are gone.

The woods return to their winter stillness, with the occasional cawing of crows, the honking of geese, the rustling of leaves in the breeze and my heartbeat, slowing down again, and I sit back, and drift off to dream again, listening for the crunching of leaves...