Tar Jacket Ridge- George Washington National Forest

In an effort to keep the adventure buzz humming for spring break we loaded up the truck and headed to Amherst County and the GeorgeWashington National Forest for a weekend backpacking trip.

We have made Easter weekend a traditional jump off point for trips because of the elongated break it afforded us and this trip was no different in that it was designed around the idea of “getting away” from the hustle and bustle of normal work related stressors with the exception that this time our trip would have to be abbreviated due to prior work related responsibilities on my end. 

That being said, Ash had pre-planned and scouted a 15 mile “lollipop” route known as the “Tar Jacket Ridge” loop which is across the way from Mount Pleasant where we had previously backpacked in 2009.

The route map has specific detailed information about the hike & points of interest
~ Thanks Ash~

So once the logistics of packing and food prep were done in between work schedules, we were on our way.

Ramsey shows her enthusiasm for the hike  

The beginning of the hike starts off mellow enough in a vast green meadow at the foot of the first real climb just off of the forest road that you park on.  

Several primitive campsites dot the area and are readily accessible to car camping and backpackers alike with the Appalachian Trail meandering through the open field.

It didn’t take us log to be reminded that we were backpacking in the mountains as a short climb opened up to a panoramic view of the surrounding peaks; Mount Pleasant, Cardinal, Friar, and Little Friar to name a few.    

The trail then snaked it’s way back down hill switch backing into the forest and across one of several forest development/ fire roads that we would crisscross along the way.

This particular section was a mix of large rocks & boulders interspersed with thickets of thorns, so we identified few camp sites along the way.

The trail then opened up into large areas of mixed hardwoods and pine forests with little to no underbrush again with limited sites for camping because of the significant pitch of the land.

After 6 miles of steady hiking we came across a beautiful camp site nestled between two small creeks.

The site had a small fire ring in a flat area adjacent to a massive rock with a huge decayed tree growing from it making for a prominent focal point. 

A few hours later we were drinking Horton Eclipse red wine near a crackling camp fire as the sun slowly dipped behind the wooded hills.

The forecast called for seasonable temps and clear skies with a pronounced dip in the mercury at night, and I would suspect that it got into the 30’s but as anyone who has backpacked can attest to; the answer to the most common question of; “How can you stand to be out there in the cold”, is explained by the fact that a two person tent when paired with quality down sleeping bags can create a rather pleasant interior environment of 50 to 60 degrees for world class sleeping arrangements( sans the fact that our two pups haven’t quite grown accustomed to sleeping outside with  the cacophony of unusual sounds that go along with the backcountry in the stillness of the night).    

Once the dogs settled in our K-9 wrestle-fest turned into snoozing and we “slept in” to allow the morning chill to subside.

After several cups of Starbucks instant coffee packs (backpacking godsend) and some filtered water from the stream we were on our way towards the “Seeley Woodworth” shelter and our turn around point to head back.

Up one ridge and down the other we went, on & on through the woods.

We covered 6 miles on the first day and decided to press on for the second covering just over 9 miles to complete the circuit.   

Solitude abounded on this hike, granted we saw several backpackers and hikers along the way, but we would go for hours at a time without crossing into another human’s path.   

The jingling of the dog’s leashes kept wildlife at bay as we saw limited animals on our trek; although we did receive a serenade by what we believe was a winter wren at our campsite by the boulder & stream.       

To get away, to get in your car and just go, to make a plan and stick to that plan, to put perceived obligations on the shelf if only for a while, to go somewhere that manages to transport you even further, to places that make you feel further away than you actual are, the search continues…  

  
 Stephen

Autumn...

October gave a party; the leaves by hundreds came-The Chestnuts, Oaks, and Maples, and leaves of every name. The Sunshine spread a carpet, and everything was grand, Miss Weather led the dancing, Professor Wind the band.  

                                                                                                                           ~George Cooper

As the days grow shorter and the air begins to chill; we climb obscured paths up ever changing hills

 

Of trails cloaked by thoughts; in hues of crimson, rust and gold, summer’s fleeting warmth yields to an impending winter’s cold.

 The seasons change with authority, in splendor they prevail, just beyond the mountain’s mist under autumn’s starry veil.    

      

~October rides require post-ride seasonal libations~ 

A "true to form" Oktoberfest brew; 

Munich Germany's own  

Paulaner Oktoberfest Märzen

Brought to you by Wine & Beer Westpark, craft beer and wines without the pretentiousness 

And her name was Irene

As the sky became more threatening and the wind began blowing intervals of heavy rain we opened the windows to the house and were greeted with the rising and falling sounds of our strategically positioned wind chimes which would come alive in the gusts in a seemingly synchronistic storm front melody.

The storm’s gusts of wind would move the linen drapes in a way that would seem as if they were dancing to the chime’s melodic notes and we both agreed that the night would be memorable.  

There are but so many things one can do during times of natural phenomenon, you can sit and ponder the “what if’s” or you can embrace the experience.

We are no strangers to nature’s “nuisances” and as such we chose to celebrate Irene’s arrival.  

Feeling hearty and well prepared we opted for a grounded food experience to match the storm’s bravado.

As the weather worsened the unmistakable smell of freshly “made from scratch” potato bread began to waif through the house.   

I don’t pretend to understand the wizardry behind homemade bread, but Ash seems well versed in its culinary alchemy, and within a few short hours piping hot rolls drizzled in Agave nectar made a perfect partner with my Belgian ale.

Long before Irene began showing herself on our coast Ash devised the idea of a grilled hotdog being the perfect complement to an Atlantic Hurricane.

Hotdogs you say, and while I understand your inquisitive scowl, these little bits of Beef parts goodness were divine as are all Hebrew Nationals dogs.

Hotdog sliders; one with broccoli coleslaw, Dill pickles, & Boar’s Head Mustard, with a side of sour Kraut &the other dressed with stuffed jalapeño peppers slices and more kraut.

Phenomenal when paired with grilled sweet potato fries.      

The night was not without its peril and commotion

Anyone who grills in the country knows the danger inherent with attracting the maniacal European Hornet to any light source.

We grill at night under the constant specter of its arrival and the unmistakable buzz of its wings which instinctively makes the hair stand up on one’s neck.

This night was no different, and through the pounding rain and howling wind he arrived…

He seemed more irritated than usual, and his normal quick pass gave way to a frenzied “bounce off the roof” spasm that made me realize I would have to deal with this threat personally.

I sent Ash and the dogs into the safety of the house and picked up my can of hornet/wasp spray.

Fissssssttttt….Direct hit!

WTF?

Fiissssstttt….Hit him again…

Oh, he’s mad now.

Bob…

Weave…

Run to the side of the deck exposed to the storm!

BLAM!!!

Onto my ass I went.

Wet deck boards are slippery as hell mind you.

“This is no ordinary hornet” I thought as I picked myself up from the soaking deck

Back into the house to get my fly swatter, and then out onto the covered deck I went.

Within seconds the Satan spawned hornet from hell was on me like a spider monkey.

Zap!

The basatrd stung me in the cheek!

AAAEEEEEE!!!!!!

I ran flailing back into the house ripping my shirt off convinced that the yellow stripped death dealer had now flown down my collar!

No sympathy to be had as Ash was DYING laughing as she tried to explain just how high pitched my voice went as I screamed bloody murder back into the house.

The storm blew on as we enjoyed our good fortune of not losing power and I couldn’t help but wonder if the National Weather Service keeps statistics on Hurricane induced hornet attacks…

Un-common Disaster

So what’s the deal Mother Nature?

Tornados whipping through April

An August earthquake not seen in 67 odd years

The dismal swamp on fire

Hurricane Irene churning up the coast encroaching on my beloved Cape Lookout National Seashore

Ramsey waiting for the Hurricane swell

Ma’ nature, while I’m big enough to know it’s not personal, I can’t help but ponder the reason that your dire eye has focused on the Commonwealth.

Let’s put La’ Nina and El’ Nino or any other Hispanic influences aside, or the idea that the poles are melting and global warming has given you an apocalyptic wedgie.  

Why so serious?

I want to give you a big ole’ bear hug just to let you know that some of us humans still love and respect you, but you have me running around fueling up for the grill, storing water, and gathering provisions.

Don’t get the wrong idea; the alcohol pays homage to your awesomeness, as humans have celebrated your majesty with spirits for millennia.

But on a serious note, while I realize that you don’t harbor feelings either way for the human populace, let’s not make a habit of you targeting the wifey.

She’s a good soul…maybe the best, at least for me, and while I understand that you will be around long after I’m gone don’t make me come looking for you.

I don’t know anyone in the circles you run in, I’m not cosmic like that, and while I can’t move tectonic plates I’m a pretty motivated individual who will show you courtesy, but I certainly won’t  forget.

The girl is off limits…

I’m glad we had this talk

So now go do your thing, bring your winds and rain, show your fury and your might and be on your merry way!!!

Be safe to everyone in the strike zone.

Drink it in

"No matter how long the winter, spring is sure to follow".

Proverb

As spring takes hold, the natural world that surrounds my home comes alive. It's an ever present reminder of why we moved further out, and how much I enjoy country living.

Below is a small photo essay of spring around the house, it's all the time I have to post some of my recent photos, but plans are in the works to enjoy Virginia's scenery out of a backpack in the near future.

Spring is here, drink it in.

All pics taken on location in the sticks with a Canon G-11.

“Fast Times” in RVA

So Richmond VA has received the dubious honor of being ranked #3 in the Nation for the number of “Fast Food” restaurants per capita.

According to a report by WTVR 6 news which cited a study conducted by “The Daily Beast” there are 274 fast food chains, in RVA.

The study says that's 134 fast food joints per 100,000 residents.

The news story also mentioned that a Virginia childhood obesity survey found that 60 percent of adults in Virginia are obese or overweight, and that one in three children are struggling with weight and health issues.

The issue is significant enough that a Senator has introduced legislation to expand the existing mandatory P.E. time in Virginia schools.

The Senator (who is also a pediatric neurologist), pointed out that; "For the first time in history, children who are born now will have a shorter life expectancy than those who were born before them."

It doesn’t take a pediatric neurologist to show a connection between the two…

I was under the impression that we were flanked by two “foodie” oriented towns, (Richmond & Charlottesville), both of which seem to have a vibrant local food scene with a lot of independent options.

Am I wrong in my assumption?

Are my eyes so clouded by the fact that my wife creates food that rivals most restaurants that I never saw this coming?

So what is wrong with Richmond or VA for that matter?

Seriously, what’s the deal?

Granted I am a healthy convert, I acknowledge that I “fell of the wagon” for about a decade during my 20’s.

But are we really that lazy of a society that the federal government has to mandate exercise for our kids?

Think about that idea for a minute...

If you can’t control your life then the feds will certainly accommodate you.

Am I missing something here?

Without good health (Both physical & mental) you have nothing, there is no counter argument, no devil’s advocate, no “yeah buts”. It’s what we refer to as a “fact”.

Tell me that I don’t understand.

Tell me “Just wait until you have kids of your own”.

Granted, I don’t have children but should I ever go that route you can rest assured that I won’t be using them as an excuse for my short comings.

To me, the tide rises and falls with healthy living, and not just in what you eat but how you think as well.

Think of it as a full circle, Mind, Body, & Spirit

Oh, and kids should get the chance to be….well, kids.

Steve

Winter Walks In

"Cold but dry", that is the verbiage used repeatedly by the forecasters for the impending winter months that are now upon us. The experts pointed out that we would not experience the same snow fall as the previous years where multiple storms rolled through VA dumping loads of the white stuff.

So as I awoke this morning and sipped coffee while I surveyed the frozen landscape of our yard and surrounding woods, I couldn't help but wonder if the forecasts may be "slightly" inaccurate.

"This may also explain the inordinate amount of  acorns that littered the ground in November" I thought to myself...

In a week's time the area had sustained two separate winter storms with a third threatening for the weekend, "dry indeed".

Mind you I'm not complaining, it's a excellent way to usher in the holidays and winter break.

Here's to you winter...

 



 

Moving On

Anyone who rides, and who has put in more “sweat equity” than most, have come to the same cross roads at some point in their life.

It’s the time when that once magnificent build that you poured your heart and soul into creating has simply ran its course, and although you have held on through the years and been its faithful companion, you realize that it’s time to say goodbye...

Everyone has their individual reasons why, and while I hope that it’s not because of the idea that “all that glitters is gold” and the bombardment of newer, better, plusher and faster, the decision to move on has been made none the less, and to each their own.

My decision to retire my 2003 Rocky Mountain Slayer is quite simple in that respect, and it boils down to the fact that I don’t enjoy it as much as I once did.

Simple right?

The saving grace is that my Salsa single speed, “Selma” has given me something to grin about in the short time that I have had her, and while I can’t put my finger on the exact reason “why” I know that now is the time to let go of one while embracing the other.

While I realize that it’s just a bike, anyone who has made the same decision also knows that it’s so much more.

The final ride was short but sweet, and the ribbons of sweat that poured down my face were a visible cue that the last ride wouldn’t be what the bike deserved, but that it was all that I could give.







And so it goes,
But never say that they don’t have soul...

* (What's a ride without lunch? Grilled kabobs with turkey sausage, chicken, pineapple, peppers, onions, and tomatoes).