tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84103576072778829162024-03-13T06:38:26.880-07:00Link Trail Journalby hikers of the foot trail linking the Old Erie Canal Towpath to the Finger Lakes TrailHugh Yemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668946016239602558noreply@blogger.comBlogger46125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410357607277882916.post-83470207992241364982013-07-24T17:49:00.002-07:002013-07-24T17:49:36.197-07:00My Father's HandsI don't remember my father's hands, but I remember the tadpoles.<br />
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When I think of my father, his hands are the first image to coalesce. They were enormous. Even after I got older, they made mine look like little baby hands. So to a child standing by his knee in the shallow water, the sight of the tadpoles squirming in those gigantic paws must have been striking. But when I think back to that day, I don't picture his hands, or the brackish water or the brownish-green muck. I only see the tadpoles.<br />
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During the walk to the frog pond, my father had told me about the tadpoles' transformation into frogs. I could hardly wrap my head around it. I remember struggling even to articulate my confusion. The tail falls off? The tail... goes away? Where? The tadpole... <i>turns into</i>... a frog? This tadpole will... take in part of itself? Its flesh will... <i>flow</i>?
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The words I was hearing seemed unbelievable, but they were my father's words, so they had just enough substance to bear me on a leap of faith. My consciousness expanded to include this magical vision of transformation. It's no wonder that those wriggling, slimy teardrops expanded to fill my vision, imprinting themselves on my memory like sauropods on Jurassic clay.<br />
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Those memories gestated inside me throughout my awkward childhood and adolescence, though I doubt my father ever knew it. I don't think he ever quite knew what to do with me, let alone figured me out. He was a man of his generation: an NRA member, a hunter, a straight-talkin' traditionalist. I was a fat little introvert, perennially buried in comic books and lost in my head.
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He would take me on walks in the woods, and although I never expressed an abundance of enthusiasm for those walks, they set a precedent. At the age of twenty-one I discovered a love of hiking. Clearly this love grew from a childhood spent wandering alone in pastures, fields, orchards, ravines, ridges and roadsides, but that wandering can't be detached from its context. My father's simple act of taking me on walks into the woods showed me that taking walks into the woods was a thing that a person could do.
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By the time I neared my teens I was predictably disaffected. Memories of a particular fishing trip cause me the worst pangs of regret. My father got me up early in the morning and drove us to one or two fishing spots that didn't pan out. He said he was taking us to another spot, and I fell asleep in the passenger seat. When I woke up, we were headed home. I said "I thought we were going to that other spot" and he said something noncommittal. I could hear the resignation in his voice. I always felt like that was the moment when he gave up trying to relate to me. I always wished he'd just gone ahead with his plan. I wish he hadn't let my disaffection defeat him.
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In 2008, while my father was dying in a nursing home in Chittenango, I discovered the Link Trail. Getting out onto that trail for an hour or two here and there did far more than keep me sane. It created connections not only between me and my younger self, but between three generations. For five years I've felt those connections grow. Sometimes bittersweet feelings sweep over me as heavily as ocean waves. I struggle beneath them, struggle to articulate their depth.<br />
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In 2010 I became a steward of a mile and a half of the Link Trail: the section between Irish Hill Road and Damon Road, south of Cazenovia. I've been proud not only to contribute to the trail, but to be <i>responsible</i> for part of it. I'm proud that that's <i>my</i> section. I'm proud to share the trail that I help maintain with my niece and nephew. I'm proud to pass along a tradition of wandering into the green, of cupping a wonder reverently in hands large or small.
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Last month I did my first mowing of my fourth year of stewardship. And as I thrust the mower into the tall grass, those waves came rolling back stronger than ever before. I thought of my father dying in the nursing home. I thought of how we connected more during those last few weeks than we ever had before. I thought of what it meant to me to escape briefly into hidden, magical places. I thought of my radiant pride at sharing that magic with the young people in my life. I reveled in this year's bright new blossoms. And my heart fluttered with the skittering motion of mama spiders as they fled with their egg sacs through the grass I'd just cut. I saw things only I can see, and I saw them as only my father's son can see them.
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I don't believe in God--at least not in the way that most folk would recognize. I don't believe in heaven, much less that my father is looking down on me. But I believe that when I share nature with a child, it's his hand that guides me.
Hugh Yemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668946016239602558noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410357607277882916.post-92098091175679310542011-12-01T08:16:00.000-08:002011-12-01T08:25:17.536-08:00Testimonial<iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/oXRMgRMtKUc" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br />I'm always bragging that not only do my niece and nephew enjoy hiking with me on the Link Trail, they practically <i>beg</i> me to take them hiking on the Link Trail <i>specifically</i>! Here's proof.Hugh Yemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668946016239602558noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410357607277882916.post-8981143305689533842011-11-30T08:53:00.000-08:002011-11-30T09:04:43.888-08:00Fun with the Kids along Canastota CreekBefore we played "<a href=http://cnylinktrail.blogspot.com/2011/11/three-billy-goats-gruff.html target="_blank">Three Billy Goats Gruff</a>" with the kids, we had fun hiking to Canastota Creek, not to mention playing the simple game I've played with my daughter for seventeen years: "Throw the stick from the upstream side of the bridge and watch it appear on the downstream side."<br /><br /><iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/n41qy4JQyZE" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br /><iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/mBwf_mDxBtM" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br /><iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/KnM3RHkuLjA" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Hugh Yemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668946016239602558noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410357607277882916.post-65595849910280830202011-11-30T07:08:00.000-08:002011-11-30T07:16:50.357-08:00Teaching Dylan and Abby about Seed Dispersal<iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/wZWGx-9mN68" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br />Here's my favorite thing to do with kids: take them out in nature and hone my translation skills.<br /><br />I have an engineer's vision of natural processes as being cut from the same cloth as <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heat_transfer target="_blank">heat transfer</a> and <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Osmosis target="_blank">osmotic gradients</a>. I think of seed dispersal and root branching in terms of <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Entropy target="_blank">entropy</a> and <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Surface-area-to-volume_ratio target="_blank">suface-area-to-volume ratios</a>. But I can't talk to kids about heat transfer and osmotic gradients and entropy and surface-area-to-volume ratios. I need to fit my vision to their eyes. Between the majesty of nature and the child's perception must stand an intermediatry: a <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Metatron target="_blank">Metatron</a> whose voice a nascent ear can hear. To be that Metatron is a life's calling.<br /><br />I've given variants of this speech to Dylan many times during our walks along the roadside. To teach Dylan, and now Abby, the sundry evolutionary innovations in seed dispersal, I speak in terms of mother and child, of animals and fire. Nature has no intent, but I rely heavily on anthropomorphic imagery. A decade or two from now I can explain to them my abstruse notion that evolution doesn't happen, but rather fails to not happen. For now, I fill their heads with vivid images of nature to lead them to reverence.Hugh Yemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668946016239602558noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410357607277882916.post-83028474631273564162011-11-29T03:40:00.000-08:002011-11-29T04:01:18.360-08:00Three Billy Goats GruffGrace and I drove to Oneida on Thursday morning to spend Thanksgiving with my family. We'd barely gotten our coats off before Dylan and Abby started asking if we were going hiking on the Link Trail. Oh yeah. I've got 'em hooked.<br /><br />We hiked in from the Mount Pleasant Road trailhead, crossed Canastota Creek, followed the railroad bed for a few hundred yards, and turned around. On the way back, we made a few little movies based on an idea I'd had while crossing the bridge on the way out: "There are four of us. And we're all different sizes. We have the perfect cast to enact 'Three Billy Goats Gruff'!"<br /><br />So we shot these videos with Grace's phone. There was much giggling. Especially when we started switching up the roles assigned to each actor. My favorite is the last one, in which Abby plays the Biggest Billy Goat Gruff.<br /><br /><iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/qozgtIrvU5I" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br /><iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/AIaSlP-FHWE" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br /><iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/OOlG6sJXM84" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Hugh Yemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668946016239602558noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410357607277882916.post-3776754711661472972011-11-28T14:36:00.000-08:002011-11-28T14:49:41.371-08:00A video survey of my section - October 22, 2011On October 22 I spent a few hours working on the Irish Hill section, the mile and a half which I steward. The trail didn't need mowing, but I gave it a quick manicure anyway. Happily, there was again no vandalism. I'm hopeful that I'm wearing out the vandals.<br /><br />There were a lot of branches, and one medium-sized tree, fallen on the trail, but nothing I couldn't wrestle away. I used a lot of them as trail guidelines. When I got to the Irish Hill end, I remembered a conversation I'd had with a gentlemen who lives just down the road. He had looked down the trail and assumed it went straight. So I arranged some branches to better delineate that first sharp turn, similar to what Steve Kinne did farther on where the trail bends to follow the stream.<br /><br />On the way back I took the time to shoot three videos, because the leaf color was worth sharing. Here they are. Enjoy.<br /><br /><iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/seaScOb70-Y" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br /><iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/7rfnOYdPpl4" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br /><iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/3VY0njtXeRE" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Hugh Yemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668946016239602558noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410357607277882916.post-78174495711345506572011-10-24T17:24:00.000-07:002011-11-12T14:40:58.758-08:00CNYNCTA 2011 Meeting Presentation<a name="top_of_post"></a><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="https://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="400" height="267" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&hl=en_US&feat=flashalbum&RGB=0x000000&feed=https%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2F114632069862789176719%2Falbumid%2F5667081539282083185%3Falt%3Drss%26kind%3Dphoto%26hl%3Den_US" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"></embed><br />Here are the photos I used in my presentation at the Canastota Library yesterday.Hugh Yemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668946016239602558noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410357607277882916.post-79520035829100362382011-06-12T07:12:00.000-07:002011-06-12T10:19:22.294-07:00Short and Oh So Sweet!<embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="https://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="400" height="267" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&hl=en_US&feat=flashalbum&RGB=0x000000&feed=https%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2F114632069862789176719%2Falbumid%2F5616995659219307377%3Falt%3Drss%26kind%3Dphoto%26hl%3Den_US" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"></embed><br />I only had time to take my niece and nephew on a ninety minute hike. As it turned out, that was plenty of time for them to bombard me with questions, and for me to saturate their little heads with information.<br /><br />I parked on Nelson Road, and moments after stepping out of the car I got my first reward: Dylan reminded me of the inchworm on my dashboard. I'd seen it when I first got into the car, and made a point to say that I'd take it out when we got to the trail so that it wouldn't die in the car. I took it out and thanked Dylan for reminding me. It's gratifying to instill in kids a respect for life.<br /><br />The act of depositing the caterpillar on a plant turned out to be a conversation starter. It fell off the leaf, but then dangled in the air on a strand of silk that it must have anchored on the leaf as it skidded past. I told the kids that caterpillars spin silk like spiders spin webs, and one of the kids asked about caterpillars turning into butterflies. I told them about chrysalises, and when Abby asked if all caterpillars turn into butterflies, I said I didn't know. I must remember to follow up on that question; it's important to teach the kids a dual lesson of admitting when you don't know something, and educating yourself about what you don't know.<br /><br />We started walking east, and I was pleasantly surprised that we didn't have to turn around. I hadn't been hopeful about continuing far on this section of trail, because it's usually thick with blood-sucking insects. But somehow we got lucky. I explained this to the kids, and took the opportunity to give them a sense of one small piece of the food chain: where there's water, there are insects; where there are insects, there are spiders; and where there are insects and spiders, there are birds.<br /><br />As usual, the first thing I noticed along the trail was a folded leaf. After years of training my eye to see them, they leap out at me. The folding agent is usually a spider or a caterpillar, and on this trip I only saw evidence of the latter. I kept unrolling leaves and finding either a caterpillar and its feces, or just the feces.<br /><br />I saw a butterfly, and Abby asked if that was the caterpillar we saw! I explained that caterpillars take months to turn into butterflies, and repeated that I don't know whether <span style="font-style:italic;">all</span> caterpillars turn into butterflies.<br /><br />Before we got far, we noticed a peculiar blanket of fluff on the trail. I didn't recognize it, so I started wondering out loud what it was. Dylan asked if it was milkweed fluff, and I told him that milkweed plants don't release their seeds until around October, so it couldn't have come from there.<br /><br />Soon I found a strand of half-open seed pods on the trail. I couldn't recall seeing anything like it before. Clearly the fluff was coming from pods like these, so I took it as an opportunity to give the kids a lesson in deductive reasoning.<br /><br />I told the kids that there were no other low-growing plants in sight that were releasing fluff, so I was looking higher. I saw some fluff on a small tree near the trail, and for a moment I thought that was the source. But when I compared the branching structure of the pods I found on the trail to that of the pods on the tree, I saw that they were very different. So the fluff couldn't have come from the tree either. This gave the kids a quick and dirty introduction to taxonomy.<br /><br />Since the fluff didn't seem to be coming from any of the shorter trees, I had to look higher still. I saw maples, elms and poplars along the trail, and I knew that maples and elms didn't produce fluff. So I began to suspect that it was raining down from the poplars. I tried to convey this process of elimination to the kids.<br /><br />A few minutes later, I found a branch on the trail that confirmed my hypothesis. It had both poplar leaves and a strand of the same fluff-bearing seed pods. Mystery solved!<br /><br />As we continued east, I taught the kids about some of the flora along the trail. I showed them Jack-in-the-Pulpit and trillium, and pointed out that though the leaves look very similar, the trillium leaves are radially symmetrical but the Jack-in-the-Pulpit leaves aren't. I showed them a huge vine and pointed out how high into the trees it climbed. And I showed them the light green patches on a rock, and told them about lichen.<br /><br />As I kept unrolling leaves and finding only caterpillars or caterpillar leavings, Dylan asked a very good question: "Why are there no spiders?" I used this as an excuse to tell him about the spider life cycle, and how other organisms need building materials with specific qualities, just like humans do. We weren't seeing spiders for two reasons: first, they won't be laying eggs for another month or two, so they're not building shelters for their egg sacs; and second, they can't just use any leaves for their shelters, and there don't seem to be many of the berry bushes they like along this section of trail.<br /><br />Before we got too far, Dylan started finding railroad spikes. He's quite fascinated by the iron artifacts from the old railroad, and I'm encouraging that fascination. So I started finding spikes for him, as well as a reinforcing plate. I made a throwaway comment to him about how one could make some strong armor from plates like these, and a bullet would just bounce off it. He got curious, asking "Why don't people make armor like that?" This led to a conversation about medieval armor, and protection vs. speed in medieval warfare. Thus I laid the groundwork for introducing him to some educational programs.<br /><br />Soon after we reached the scenic slope down to Canastota Creek, a big black fly with a brilliant yellow thorax landed on my right hand. It was nearly the size of a horsefly, so I suspected it might be about to painfully draw some blood. But as I told the kids, I <span style="font-style:italic;">really</span> wanted to get a shot of the thing. I kept my hand still and asked Dylan to grab the phone out of my pocket. I got some great shots, I didn't get bit, and I taught the kids a lesson about risking some pain for the sake of intellectual curiosity.<br /><br />On the way back, one of the kids spotted a curious-looking little grey mass with two narrow tubes sticking out of it. At first I thought it was a piece of a carcass with a long worm running through it. It took us a few seconds to figure out that it was the rear end of a mouse: one end of the "worm" was the mouse's tail, and the other was a strand of its intestines. There was a slug a few inches away that appeared to have been feeding on it. Dylan said that a fox must have eaten the mouse, and I thought that sounded about right. One of the kids asked what ate the fox, and I said that there probably wasn't anything around here that eats foxes. It occurs to me that I was wrong; coyotes probably eat foxes. I'll have to look it up and follow up with the kids.<br /><br />During the hike, I had several opportunities to educate Dylan about arachnids. At one point he saw a "big spider" and I came to look. It turned out to be a daddy longlegs. I told him that daddy longlegs are arachnids but not spiders, and that they are ancient, like sharks; fossils of daddy longlegs that lived hundreds of millions of years ago look like daddy longlegs of today. I also had an opportunity to show him the "boxing gloves" on a spider, and tell him that those are pedipalps, which means the spider is a male.<br /><br />I saw a large insect on a low leaf, and tried to show the kids. It dropped off just before Dylan got there, but it turned out to be a lesson in following your curiosity and being open to what you find, instead of what you expected. As we looked for the insect, we found a slug, and then I saw a spider crawling right over it. I believe it was <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Enoplognatha_ovata target="_blank">Enoplognatha ovata</a>, the same leaf-folding species I'd been telling Dylan about!<br /><br />Here are a few more tidbits I got to teach the kids: those squiggly whitish lines on the leaves are from tiny leaf miners tunneling <span style="font-style:italic;">between</span> the layers of the thin leaf with their little mouths; we can't walk on this side trail because it's private property as opposed to public property; that slope is bare because of erosion, which means wind and rain wearing away soil; leaves with this particular shape are touch-me-nots, whose seed pods we'll be popping in a few months; and the water running in that stream fell as rain miles away a few days ago, and trickled down plants and through the ground before ending up in the stream.<br /><br />All this, in an hour and twenty minutes. I'm a lucky guy to have a nephew and niece who are receptive to my enthusiasm.Hugh Yemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668946016239602558noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410357607277882916.post-46420113257696624172011-06-12T06:58:00.000-07:002011-06-12T09:57:49.005-07:00Trail Maintenanance<h2><a href="http://www.everytrail.com/view_trip.php?trip_id=1135643">My Section of the Link Trail</a></h2> <object width="400" height="300" codebase="http://fpdownload.macromedia.com/get/flashplayer/current/swflash.cab"><param name="movie" value="http://www.everytrail.com/swf/widget.swf"/><param name="FlashVars" value="units=english&mode=0&key=ABQIAAAA_7wvFEi7gGngCZrOfos63hSN1xyBy-BzBD--25ZLXpVi3GfbehTQlZCXdpUFII2A5CGeExVTCyX1ow&tripId=1135643&startLat=42.85582&startLon=-75.80888&mapType=Terrain&"><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.everytrail.com/swf/widget.swf" quality="high" width="400" height="300" FlashVars="units=english&mode=0&key=ABQIAAAA_7wvFEi7gGngCZrOfos63hSN1xyBy-BzBD--25ZLXpVi3GfbehTQlZCXdpUFII2A5CGeExVTCyX1ow&tripId=1135643&startLat=42.85582&startLon=-75.80888&mapType=Terrain&" play="true" quality="high" pluginspage="http://www.adobe.com/go/getflashplayer"></embed></object><br/><script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.everytrail.com/trip/widgetimpression?trip_id=1135643"></script><br />On Sunday I spent about five hours hiking my section of trail, replacing blazes that someone had torn down since my inspection around Easter, and mowing the grass with a string trimmer. The trimmer was slow, but thorough. Here's a shot of one of the salamanders that I came so close to mulching...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8xRcBEI9NX4/TfTIZ4FBgpI/AAAAAAAANLU/ty8ttUaVLE4/s1600/2011-06-05_18-15-52_672.jpg"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 237px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8xRcBEI9NX4/TfTIZ4FBgpI/AAAAAAAANLU/ty8ttUaVLE4/s320/2011-06-05_18-15-52_672.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617334982113591954" /></a><br /><br />...and here are a few shots of the lovely sunset I saw as I drove home.<br /><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="https://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="400" height="267" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&hl=en_US&feat=flashalbum&RGB=0x000000&feed=https%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2F114632069862789176719%2Falbumid%2F5616990869168099073%3Falt%3Drss%26kind%3Dphoto%26hl%3Den_US" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"></embed>Hugh Yemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668946016239602558noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410357607277882916.post-48295299971122635422010-06-06T17:51:00.000-07:002010-06-16T18:07:13.689-07:00Abby's First Link Trail Hike!Dylan and Abby were both exceptionally whiny during breakfast, so I was resigned to a not-so-fun hike. As it turned out, their behavior during the hike was diametrically opposed to their morning behavior. We started at the Canastota trailhead and made it all the way to the bridge over Canastota Creek, despite the fact that it started pouring right when we reached the top of the long staircase. Abby only whined a little bit when it started to rain, and that was it. She made it the whole way out and back under her own power, and Dylan was ever the gallant brother, making sure she safely navigated the slippery bits. What great kids!<br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4SCt0M36dJ4&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4SCt0M36dJ4&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/kdootHV6Ruw&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kdootHV6Ruw&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oVNyRU5tGOc&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oVNyRU5tGOc&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6wk83WZ0rgk&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6wk83WZ0rgk&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/g5Fd5ApUkL4&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/g5Fd5ApUkL4&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>Hugh Yemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668946016239602558noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410357607277882916.post-50632938248984856072010-06-05T18:43:00.001-07:002010-06-15T17:30:51.109-07:0030 Miles<table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/AksLXKfZML1o002YSIiUqQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/TAsF3_G8coI/AAAAAAAAJjo/QITKtsT8IBw/s400/CIMG0864.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/30MileLinkTrailHikeFromCanastotaToCazenoviaAndBackJune52010?feat=embedwebsite">30-Mile Link Trail Hike from Canastota to Cazenovia and Back - June 5, 2010</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br />I got into town late on Friday night, and I had made plans to have a cookout with my sister and her kids at 6:00 on Saturday night. I estimated that I had to start hiking not long after 7:00 AM in order to have time to stop for lunch and rest my feet in Cazenovia before turning around and getting back on time. This meant that I only had time for about four hours of sleep. I got up at 6:30, brewed a thermos full of tea, and hit the Canastota trailhead at 7:35.<br /><br />The first thing I noticed was the forget-me-nots blossoming ten feet into the trail. White and purple-pink <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hesperis_matronalis target="_blank">dame's rocket</a> was blooming along the trail. It was a lovely day: warm and sunny. Rain had poured down the night before, so I had to be careful of slippery spots.<br /><br />I don't recommend making a commitment with zero margin of error as a means of keeping yourself on schedule during a long hike. I suppose you could say that it worked for me, but I was so obsessed with finishing the hike on time that I wasn't enjoying the beginning. I don't remember too much about the first few miles.<br /><br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/UTALDq24sX0urIVWxtHpNg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/TAsHHM4_srI/AAAAAAAAJjw/p4KYAf_xIoU/s400/CIMG0867.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/30MileLinkTrailHikeFromCanastotaToCazenoviaAndBackJune52010?feat=embedwebsite">30-Mile Link Trail Hike from Canastota to Cazenovia and Back - June 5, 2010</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/dJbnG5nFFrpz4nhLuw2nqQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/TAsIA7yrn6I/AAAAAAAAJj8/rDlOg7h8Ipc/s400/CIMG0871.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/30MileLinkTrailHikeFromCanastotaToCazenoviaAndBackJune52010?feat=embedwebsite">30-Mile Link Trail Hike from Canastota to Cazenovia and Back - June 5, 2010</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/5yNVCwbfMhKxRCaxLaujCg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/TAsJAP7sYII/AAAAAAAAJkI/_QiNEqS1vDs/s400/CIMG0874.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/30MileLinkTrailHikeFromCanastotaToCazenoviaAndBackJune52010?feat=embedwebsite">30-Mile Link Trail Hike from Canastota to Cazenovia and Back - June 5, 2010</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br />A few hundred yards east of Nelson Road the trail crosses a farm path. Just west of this crossing, there's an eroded gap at the top of the slope on the northern edge of the trail. Runoff is carrying clay soil down the slope, across the trail, and into the creek on the south side. This section is rather slippery with clay, as you can see from the pictures above. It might warrant anti-erosion measures before long.<br /><br />I crossed Nelson Road at 8:18 and then my feet started getting seriously wet. There's a lot of enthusiastic greenery encroaching on the trail. I was happy to see that I was wrong about the rate of erosion at a particular spot a few hundred yards west of Nelson Road: the creek hasn't eroded any more of the bank just north of the trail, as I thought it would have by now.<br /><br />Between Cottons Road and the next lawn, the trail was even more overgrown. This is the section where I got soaked from the thighs down and got seeds and leaves from many plants in my shoes. It's also where I once again felt privileged to pass through the biggest grove of <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bloodroot target="_blank">bloodroot</a> I've ever seen. The ground was completely obscured by them, for ten or fifteen feet on either side of the trail, for about a hundred feet. If you took every patch of bloodroot I've seen in my life and put them together, it wouldn't equal the size of this patch.<br /><br />After the bloodroot came a pleasant patch of <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Podophyllum_peltatum target="_blank">mayapple</a>. Then I passed across the lawn and through the woods, dodged many fresh cow pies, traversed the cow path and the railroad bed, and crossed Quarry Road at 9:17.<br /><br />It must have rained with exceptional force on Friday night, because I noticed something I'd never seen before: all along the trail, every <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Daisy_fleabane target="_blank">daisy fleabane</a> blossom looked sadly bedraggled, like a fifties greaser who'd gotten his pompadour all set but then got caught in a prank with a firehose. Now I wish that I'd taken a moment to unpack my camera and get some shots, but at the time I was too invested in not breaking my pace.<br /><br />I reached Ingalls Corners Road at 9:44 and stopped for a few minutes to eat a Zone Bar and drink some tea. Then I forged ahead through my least favorite portion of the trail: the two and a half miles of roadside hiking between there and the Freber Road trailhead.<br /><br />By then I was having a few strong reactions: consternation that I didn't seem to be maintaining anything like the pace I kept on this same hike <a href="http://cnylinktrail.blogspot.com/2008/06/there-and-back-again.html" target="_blank">two years ago</a>; sad incredulity that I seemed to be the only one taking advantage of the trail on such a lovely day; and gratitude for the lovely day itself. As I sweated my way up Seibenbaum Road under the sun that by then was blazing, a bull rose and assumed a protective stance in front of its harem.<br /><br />By the time I reached the Freber Road trailhead at 10:51, I was so amazed at the time I'd made two years ago that I'd begun to wonder if I'd written it down wrong. But I knew that I'd been meticulous, so I wondered if I might actually hike from Freber to Cazenovia in a little over an hour. It seemed impossible.<br /><br />I picked up the pace and made every effort not to slacken it. I crossed Carrys Hill Road at 11:15 and climbed the stairs at Bingley Road at 11:40. There was no way that I'd be in Cazenovia in twenty minutes. I prepared to be humbled by myself from two years ago.<br /><br />On the trail along the falls I met a friendly bicyclist named Molly. We talked about the trail and I told her about this journal. I also had to stop and wrap my left little piggie toe for the first time. Messing around with my feet had become a real pain. Getting my socks soaked early in the hike hadn't helped them at all.<br /><br />I reached Route 20 at 12:34, grabbed two slices of pizza and a Pepsi at the Sunoco station, and wolfed them down before hitting the trail at 12:48. That is correct: I will never be mistaken for a nutrition expert.<br /><br />It wasn't long before I had to stop and wrap my right little piggy toe. A few weeks ago I took a twenty-five mile hike and didn't wrap that toe until it was way too late: I got a big blister and ended up losing the nail. I was not about to make the same mistake.<br /><br />My feet kept giving me grief during most of the hike back. I had to stop, both to empty out my shoes and to re-wrap one toe or the other, with irritating frequency. Then, not far from Freber Road, I had the most frustrating missed photo opportunity in recent memory. I caught a small bit of motion on the trail that my eye immediately identified as a spider. I saw that it was a cute little orangish-brindle <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jumping_spider" target="_blank">salticid</a>* of a species I’ve not seen before. I waved my hand in front of it enough to make it freeze, and then kept my eye on it as I took my pack off.<br /><br />It had barely moved by the time I got my camera bag unzipped and taken the Canon macro rig out. I glanced at the camera to turn it on and make sure that the mode dial was in the right position, and when I looked back the little bugger had disappeared. I spent a few minutes blowing on the immediate area in hopes of making it twitch, combing the leaf litter, and occasionally admonishing the spider.<br /><br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/J51dZqeA9Mw4Q0yNfReJNA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/TAsJUtcmuSI/AAAAAAAAJkQ/Gfjs7TElw_o/s400/CIMG0880.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/30MileLinkTrailHikeFromCanastotaToCazenoviaAndBackJune52010?feat=embedwebsite">30-Mile Link Trail Hike from Canastota to Cazenovia and Back - June 5, 2010</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/GFQqX4iqpmyTKHXHXiXO4w?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/TAsJvc693ZI/AAAAAAAAJkY/J9AzW8sEaGQ/s400/CIMG0882.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/30MileLinkTrailHikeFromCanastotaToCazenoviaAndBackJune52010?feat=embedwebsite">30-Mile Link Trail Hike from Canastota to Cazenovia and Back - June 5, 2010</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/WLGXXaG3YxgsdkeXGiBK3Q?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/TAsKFWyjU7I/AAAAAAAAJkc/rqdakGpX778/s400/CIMG0884.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/30MileLinkTrailHikeFromCanastotaToCazenoviaAndBackJune52010?feat=embedwebsite">30-Mile Link Trail Hike from Canastota to Cazenovia and Back - June 5, 2010</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br />Well, I guess that got the lion’s share of my frustration out of my system, because when I broke out of the tree cover and onto the road, and saw this sky, it felt like a reward and a benediction. There’s nothing like a sky I’ve spent a whole day walking under. It feels like I can come closest to touching it because I’ve come closest to earning it.<br /><br />By this time I was about as satisfied with my foot wrapping as I was going to get for this trip. I was still kicking myself for not wearing better socks, though, and I resolved to get some good hiking socks before the next trip.<br /><br />I was troubled by my slowness relative to two years ago, but pleased to find myself much less achy. I could tell that I would get serious blisters out of this hike, but not the agonizing level of achiness that I had then. All the twelve- and twenty-five-mile hikes I've taken lately have gotten me conditioned.<br /><br />Nothing notable happened between the splendid expanse of sky over Seibenbaum Road, and crossing Cottons Road. I was so preoccupied with getting back to the car that I didn't linger on any of the little asides that make a hike magical. Again, this is not how I would recommend that anyone do this hike. <span style="font-style:italic;">Don't</span> make a family commitment for the evening that leaves you zero margin for error.<br /><br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Kdg9yD0rgTUUgQNksqYEKw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/TAsLitmkf_I/AAAAAAAAJko/vnyuFgZzAyA/s400/IMG_6608.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/30MileLinkTrailHikeFromCanastotaToCazenoviaAndBackJune52010?feat=embedwebsite">30-Mile Link Trail Hike from Canastota to Cazenovia and Back - June 5, 2010</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br />A few months back I read an article about leaf galls in a natural history magazine. I don't know whether this primed me to notice them, or whether it's an exceptional year for galls, but I've been seeing them <i>everywhere</i> lately! Just past the gate where the trail crosses Cottons Road and heads toward Nelson Road, I saw a magnificent selection of grape leaf galls. I'd never noticed anything like them before. The clipping shown above is the best of the bunch.<br /><br />I reached my car at the Canastota trailhead at 6:12. I was disappointed that it took me so long, but very pleased that I wasn't remotely as achy as I remember feeling two years ago. And just think of how much faster I'll move after I've dropped thirty-five pounds!<br /><br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Jf0LJckhhTcMZpXS3h8LlQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/TAsLRT8IQgI/AAAAAAAAJkk/5QeLhjDVkUA/s400/P1380265.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/30MileLinkTrailHikeFromCanastotaToCazenoviaAndBackJune52010?feat=embedwebsite">30-Mile Link Trail Hike from Canastota to Cazenovia and Back - June 5, 2010</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br />Here are the socks I wore out during this hike. The final tally of injuries was: a major blister along the bottom outside rear edge of my left foot; a largeish blister one on my right piggy toe; and some smaller ones here and there. But I'm happy to report that I didn't get any grief from my toenails this time!<br /><br /><hr><br /><br /><i>*If my memory is to be trusted, the salticid that I saw was this species. Unfortunately I don't know what the species is because it's an uncategorized entry in BugGuide!<br /><a href=http://bugguide.net/node/view/318939 target="_blank"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/TBgY220LKHI/AAAAAAAAJpA/3xYDYRJSJjg/s1600/salticid.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/TBgY220LKHI/AAAAAAAAJpA/3xYDYRJSJjg/s320/salticid.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483159877029931122" /></a></a></i>Hugh Yemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668946016239602558noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410357607277882916.post-14348803840069785652010-05-15T22:00:00.000-07:002010-06-15T16:47:40.421-07:00Maintenance hike on the Irish Hill section<table style="width:auto;"><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/4ZJcHSraJBN2sCCu5xMV2g?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S_Hr2ZaFRqI/AAAAAAAAJTM/MFuNsRXfG1U/s400/P1370004.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/LinkTrailHikeIrishRidgeRoadToSouthOfDamonRoadMay152010?feat=embedwebsite">Link Trail Hike, Irish Ridge Road to south of Damon Road - May 15, 2010</a></td></tr></table><br /><br />As of last November I'm the steward of the mile and a half section of trail between Irish Hill Road and Damon Road. This was my first hike of the year through the whole thing, so I was excited at the prospect of doing some trail-clearing. I parked at the crook of Irish Hill Road and hit the trail at about 5:00. The first stream crossing was vastly easier than it was in March, when the water was twice as high from the spring melt.<br /><br />Carrying two axes and a machete was awkward, but I soon discovered a way to make it less so. I remembered that my cheap little worn-out day pack had a carry loop on top. I stuck both axes in there and they stayed well enough for the purposes of this hike. I need to come up with a safer and more secure arrangement, though.<br /><br />Red wintergreen berries provided the first cheerful wink of color along the trail. Withering trout lily leaves testified to yellow that had passed, and cinquefoil leaves promised more yellow to come.<br /><br />I could hardly believe how soon I'd passed over the stream crossing that Grace and I helped redirect on July 4th. In March, when I was gingerly making my way through, over and around mud and runoff with a six-year-old, it seemed like a <i>much</i> longer hike!<br /><br /><table style="width:auto;"><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/FbWe39jUO4o9430Z-KSaEA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S_HrjwU8ElI/AAAAAAAAJS4/CAWf8eB3NgA/s400/IMG_4962.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/LinkTrailHikeIrishRidgeRoadToSouthOfDamonRoadMay152010?feat=embedwebsite">Link Trail Hike, Irish Ridge Road to south of Damon Road - May 15, 2010</a></td></tr></table><br /><br />I passed out of the woods and headed south on the wider section that parallels the hedgerow. I found that part more delightful, not just because I've spent less time on it, but because of the forget-me-nots sprinkled liberally along the verges. The way they grew partially obscured among the grasses and tiny maple trees made me think of faeries.<br /><br /><table style="width:auto;"><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/FDIVnfzMqFXqEuhefy1qFw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S_HrEtAFCGI/AAAAAAAAJRg/vaz_HvaB_2c/s400/IMG_4709.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/LinkTrailHikeIrishRidgeRoadToSouthOfDamonRoadMay152010?feat=embedwebsite">Link Trail Hike, Irish Ridge Road to south of Damon Road - May 15, 2010</a></td></tr></table><br /><br />Along with the touch-me-nots I saw lots of dandelions, both blooming and seeding. Once again I was rewarded for taking the time to get some macro shots of a flower that I've seen hundreds of millions of times: when I looked at these pictures later, it was like seeing a dandelion for the first time.<br /><br /><table style="width:auto;"><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/S5gJxlwQecGdNd6rxWVmYw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S_HrJ2RohRI/AAAAAAAAJR0/sAixx4tmLD8/s400/IMG_4742.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/LinkTrailHikeIrishRidgeRoadToSouthOfDamonRoadMay152010?feat=embedwebsite">Link Trail Hike, Irish Ridge Road to south of Damon Road - May 15, 2010</a></td></tr></table><br /><br /><table style="width:auto;"><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/DuQFI1JWO_k-TZk7aMGK-g?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S_HrA7YK_hI/AAAAAAAAJRU/5zzmGy5KfPY/s400/IMG_4683.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/LinkTrailHikeIrishRidgeRoadToSouthOfDamonRoadMay152010?feat=embedwebsite">Link Trail Hike, Irish Ridge Road to south of Damon Road - May 15, 2010</a></td></tr></table><br /><br /><table style="width:auto;"><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/OkM8j7WlWzEJmmCBD9Obyg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S_HrDymX2rI/AAAAAAAAJRc/RY0PshhWjFg/s400/IMG_4702.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/LinkTrailHikeIrishRidgeRoadToSouthOfDamonRoadMay152010?feat=embedwebsite">Link Trail Hike, Irish Ridge Road to south of Damon Road - May 15, 2010</a></td></tr></table><br /><br /><table style="width:auto;"><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/wmDd3pO3nt35FeTM3KWBFg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S_HrALLcD9I/AAAAAAAAJRQ/X-qYTN6CV-Q/s400/IMG_4670.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/LinkTrailHikeIrishRidgeRoadToSouthOfDamonRoadMay152010?feat=embedwebsite">Link Trail Hike, Irish Ridge Road to south of Damon Road - May 15, 2010</a></td></tr></table><br /><br />I stopped to take pictures of violets, apple blossoms, and a bird's nest made of mud and straw that I found just a step off the trail, about six feet off the ground in an apple tree. Now I wish I'd have taken pictures of the wild mustard that stitched the trail with yellow. What new intricacies would a closeup have revealed? I'll make a point to find out next time.<br /><br /><table style="width:auto;"><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/IfthoCZN4il0eNSIxQHHaA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S_HrMB_4SCI/AAAAAAAAJR8/My25Ni4CWL8/s400/IMG_4747.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/LinkTrailHikeIrishRidgeRoadToSouthOfDamonRoadMay152010?feat=embedwebsite">Link Trail Hike, Irish Ridge Road to south of Damon Road - May 15, 2010</a></td></tr></table><br /><br /><table style="width:auto;"><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/H_27QeKDb4M3Bu1QgvC_ig?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S_HrRslwfqI/AAAAAAAAJSY/1Rt3P_b3cRU/s400/IMG_4837.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/LinkTrailHikeIrishRidgeRoadToSouthOfDamonRoadMay152010?feat=embedwebsite">Link Trail Hike, Irish Ridge Road to south of Damon Road - May 15, 2010</a></td></tr></table><br /><br />Now that I've looked at the shots, I have to say that the most rewarding of all the photographic subjects on this hike were last year's burdock. I love the way the seeds were so clearly waiting to be shaken loose by an animal attempting to worry the burr free from its fur, and I'm fascinated by the golden yellow hooks that I never would have noticed if not for the macro shots.<br /><br />Even more so than the forget-me-nots, the copses of myrtle made the trail magical. There are large patches of open, shady woods along the western edge of the trail that resemble nothing so much as a gently undulating sea of periwinkle. In one particularly dramatic spot, the remains of an old tree jut up from a mound so that the dark green sea seems to wash against a craggy island spire.<br /><br /><table style="width:auto;"><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/todG5k68zIyIWcvCyKBIJQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S_HrbKGMQhI/AAAAAAAAJSk/-OG1RY3Yssg/s400/IMG_4890.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/LinkTrailHikeIrishRidgeRoadToSouthOfDamonRoadMay152010?feat=embedwebsite">Link Trail Hike, Irish Ridge Road to south of Damon Road - May 15, 2010</a></td></tr></table><br /><br />When I saw the treefall across the trail a few hundred yards north of Damon Road, my heart rejoiced. It's been far too long since I've had the opportunity for some real trail-clearing. This one was nothing compared to some of the monster blowdowns I cleared in the Adirondacks back around the early aughts, but then again I'm not in my best shape right now, so it was a good workout.<br /><br />My father's words about always clearing the ground before swinging the axe echoed in my ears as I went to work with the machete. I got the little stuff cleared away and then went to work with the axe.<br /><br />It's always much more challenging to chop through logs when they're suspended over the ground like these were: the position puts you at a muscular disadvantage, and the lack of bracing means that a lot of your striking force is dissipated. So naturally I place my first cut to bring down the entire length of log that needs to be cleared.<br /><br />I tend to cut up logs so that the pieces are right at the upper limit of what I can move. This always feels a bit weird because I'm minimizing the time I spend chopping, an activity that I enjoy more than almost anything. But it also makes it as difficult as possible for me to wrestle the pieces off the trail. This is exactly what I want, because it gives me the best possible full-body workout.<br /><br /><table style="width:auto;"><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/C40Evl2qnL_QXcfQlaMlMw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S_HrdUwa0XI/AAAAAAAAJSo/1K5yi35zVRA/s400/IMG_4901.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/LinkTrailHikeIrishRidgeRoadToSouthOfDamonRoadMay152010?feat=embedwebsite">Link Trail Hike, Irish Ridge Road to south of Damon Road - May 15, 2010</a></td></tr></table><br /><br /><table style="width:auto;"><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/7PpVi2Pfl2-UlFhbGRQ2Vg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S_HrewTmdHI/AAAAAAAAJSs/JyisKw4VzeI/s400/IMG_4913.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/LinkTrailHikeIrishRidgeRoadToSouthOfDamonRoadMay152010?feat=embedwebsite">Link Trail Hike, Irish Ridge Road to south of Damon Road - May 15, 2010</a></td></tr></table><br /><br />So I got that big log up on the bank where it couldn't possibly jump out and bite anyone, and took some shots of my kill. I just looked back at the time stamps on the pictures, and found that fifty-nine minutes passed between the last shot of the treefall and the first shot of the cleared trail. Under an hour: not bad for someone so out of shape.<br /><br /><table style="width:auto;"><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/6mAhuipxNOACh7L0rvDUBQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S_HrnEVsooI/AAAAAAAAJS8/psR2ZvzisNc/s400/IMG_4977.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/LinkTrailHikeIrishRidgeRoadToSouthOfDamonRoadMay152010?feat=embedwebsite">Link Trail Hike, Irish Ridge Road to south of Damon Road - May 15, 2010</a></td></tr></table><br /><br /><table style="width:auto;"><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/OWekYUrSVnUU4zPNAVG-OQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S_Hr6Ep_GlI/AAAAAAAAJTY/wNj078QXLlA/s400/P1380005.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/LinkTrailHikeIrishRidgeRoadToSouthOfDamonRoadMay152010?feat=embedwebsite">Link Trail Hike, Irish Ridge Road to south of Damon Road - May 15, 2010</a></td></tr></table><br /><br />When I reached Damon Road there was still plenty of sunlight, so I decided to continue south for a while. This section was even more delightfully forget-me-not-ridden, but another problem soon soured the experience: it was a mud pit, and it was obvious that ATVs were the reason. I made my winding way, avoiding the mud as best I could, but still wound up with wet feet by the time I turned around, probably less than a mile in.<br /><br />On the way back I met a hiker with her dogs and had a pleasant conversation about the trail. When I reached my car and headed back toward Oneida, I was shocked to see that it was 8:30. I'd sure had a lot of fun on the trail for three and a half hours to have flown by so fast!Hugh Yemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668946016239602558noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410357607277882916.post-68279581674494739602010-02-23T17:31:00.000-08:002010-02-23T18:55:23.464-08:00One Last Time Capsule from Summer<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4SSADdrBBI/AAAAAAAAIhw/iBxcnmxpUiI/s1600-h/IMG_1996.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 223px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4SSADdrBBI/AAAAAAAAIhw/iBxcnmxpUiI/s320/IMG_1996.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441634779397817362" /></a><br /><i>Here's a third time capsule, this one from August 22nd. For more pictures from this hike, see the <a href=http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/ANewFlowerAugust222009# target="_blank">Picasa web album</a>.</i><br /><br />Dylan and I walked east from Nelson Road. It was a hot day, so when it started raining we didn't mind much. The only problem was that it kept me from taking my camera out toward the end of the hike. So I didn't get any pictures of Dylan or me, nor of the rolled leaves that I noticed at the beginning of the hike.<br /><br />What I did get was some shots of a wildflower I'd never seen before. Just a minute or two into the hike I noticed that the marshy area to the south of the trail was full of magenta blossoms that I couldn't immediately identify. When I went closer, I was surprised to find that I <i>still</i> couldn't identify them. After years of walking all over the hills and ravines south of Oneida I didn't think there was a showy wildflower I hadn't seen. I was wrong.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4SSAltuHZI/AAAAAAAAIiA/BZrCQypkdWw/s1600-h/P1330233.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4SSAltuHZI/AAAAAAAAIiA/BZrCQypkdWw/s320/P1330233.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441634788591934866" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4SSA-m9EkI/AAAAAAAAIiI/zxaCNxqJAsU/s1600-h/P1330237.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4SSA-m9EkI/AAAAAAAAIiI/zxaCNxqJAsU/s320/P1330237.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441634795274441282" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4SSKyYb_tI/AAAAAAAAIio/uCuQOk_kndU/s1600-h/P1330249.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4SSKyYb_tI/AAAAAAAAIio/uCuQOk_kndU/s320/P1330249.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441634963791019730" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4SSKrHhqWI/AAAAAAAAIig/TddZ8Ai9HPI/s1600-h/P1330247.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4SSKrHhqWI/AAAAAAAAIig/TddZ8Ai9HPI/s320/P1330247.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441634961841039714" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4SSBN4f9XI/AAAAAAAAIiQ/9oRnitmQQGA/s1600-h/P1330241.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4SSBN4f9XI/AAAAAAAAIiQ/9oRnitmQQGA/s320/P1330241.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441634799374562674" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4SSKQXrl5I/AAAAAAAAIiY/YMiyxhZQiss/s1600-h/P1330245.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4SSKQXrl5I/AAAAAAAAIiY/YMiyxhZQiss/s320/P1330245.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441634954661042066" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4SSARp4qjI/AAAAAAAAIh4/Q6vk6VZx10I/s1600-h/IMG_2039.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4SSARp4qjI/AAAAAAAAIh4/Q6vk6VZx10I/s320/IMG_2039.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441634783207139890" /></a><br /><br />I just found the flower in my Peterson's Guide to Wildflowers. It's <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Epilobium_hirsutum target="_blank">hairy willow-herb (<i>Epilobium hirsutum</i>)</a>.<br /><br /><iframe frameborder="0" scrolling="no" style="border:0px" src="http://books.google.com/books?id=HZPKMgaj_dEC&lpg=PP1&pg=PA271&output=embed" width=400 height=500></iframe>Hugh Yemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668946016239602558noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410357607277882916.post-32051212004176375822010-02-22T17:32:00.000-08:002010-02-23T17:09:03.852-08:00Touch-Me-NotHere's another time capsule, this one from September 19th. It was a gorgeous, sunny day and I took Dylan and Abby on a short hike west from Nelson Road. It was Abby's first hike on the Link Trail, and the timing couldn't have been better. The touch-me-nots were ready to pop, and the kids duly popped them to their little hearts' content.<br /><br />I just looked up touch-me-nots, aka jewelweed, in Wikipedia and was surprised to find that what I thought was one species is actually two: <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orange_Jewelweed target="_blank">orange jewelweed (<i>Impatiens capensis</i>)</a> and <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Impatiens_pallida target="_blank">yellow jewelweed (<i>Impatiens pallida</i>)</a>.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xlobzkAsh9w&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xlobzkAsh9w&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2F3taNKF-I4&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2F3taNKF-I4&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Hugh Yemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668946016239602558noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410357607277882916.post-56921554086976237152010-02-13T20:52:00.000-08:002010-02-21T19:26:29.592-08:00Dylan's First Link Trail Snowshoe Hike<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AaJMEN0AI/AAAAAAAAIe4/S6HdiJ1uUBw/s1600-h/CIMG0027.jpg"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AaJMEN0AI/AAAAAAAAIe4/S6HdiJ1uUBw/s320/CIMG0027.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440377095023611906" /></a><br /><i>For many more pictures from this hike, see the <a href=http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/FirstSnowshoeHikeWithDylanFebruary132010# target="_blank">Picasa web album</a>.</i><br /><br />I hadn't been back to Oneida since December so both Dylan and I were looking forward to getting back to the Link Trail. I was particularly eager to try snowshoeing with Dylan. His parents had gotten him a pair a year or two ago, but I hadn't had any excuse to take him out on them.<br /><br />We parked on the side of Quarry Road and I gave Dylan a little instruction on how to work the straps. I got my own somewhat more extensive bindings strapped on and we hit the trail. Dylan immediately started falling down and complaining, but not too loudly. As usual, I framed it as a learning experience -- a phase he'd have to go through in order to someday climb snow-covered mountains. I stressed that although wearing the snowshoes is tiring for him now, next time it will be easier.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AW80GelCI/AAAAAAAAIeQ/Wk5py0_cO8Y/s1600-h/P1340339.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AW80GelCI/AAAAAAAAIeQ/Wk5py0_cO8Y/s320/P1340339.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440373583897334818" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AWzOlLXvI/AAAAAAAAIdw/mO49MAbTtaM/s1600-h/IMG_3970.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AWzOlLXvI/AAAAAAAAIdw/mO49MAbTtaM/s320/IMG_3970.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440373419206729458" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AWzZeUmWI/AAAAAAAAId4/MFhCiWNugDA/s1600-h/IMG_4022.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AWzZeUmWI/AAAAAAAAId4/MFhCiWNugDA/s320/IMG_4022.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440373422130764130" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AW8UfXTVI/AAAAAAAAIeA/aLBc6fCszL0/s1600-h/IMG_4082.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AW8UfXTVI/AAAAAAAAIeA/aLBc6fCszL0/s320/IMG_4082.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440373575411780946" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AW8op1bhI/AAAAAAAAIeI/QmioOP3425w/s1600-h/IMG_4134.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 244px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AW8op1bhI/AAAAAAAAIeI/QmioOP3425w/s320/IMG_4134.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440373580824407570" /></a><br />Queen Anne's lace (<i>Daucus carota</i>)<br /><br />As soon as we got onto the trail I saw a great photo op: several <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Queen_anne%27s_lace target="_blank">Queen Anne's lace</a> plants, each one cupping a small load of snow. I love plants like this that stand like sere watchmen through the winter. They manage to seem at once sad, funereal and graceful.<br /><br />Here's some interesting information about Queen Anne's lace from the <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Queen_anne%27s_lace target="_blank">Wikepedia entry</a>.<blockquote><b>Uses</b><br /><br />Like the cultivated carrot, the wild carrot root is edible while young, but quickly becomes too woody to consume. A teaspoon of crushed seeds has long been used as a form of birth control; its use for this purpose was first described by Hippocrates over 2,000 years ago.[citation needed] Research conducted on mice has offered a degree of confirmation for this use—it was found that wild carrot disrupts the implantation process, which reinforces its reputation as a contraceptive.[2] Chinese studies have also indicated that the seeds block progesterone synthesis, which could explain this effect.[citation needed]<br /><br />As with all herbal remedies and wild food gathering, extra caution should be used, especially since the wild carrot bears close resemblance to a dangerous species Water Hemlock. The leaves of the wild carrot can cause phytophotodermatitis, so caution should also be used when handling the plant.<br /><br />The wild carrot, when freshly cut, will draw or change color depending on the color of the water it is in. Note that this effect is only visible on the "head" or flower of the plant. Carnation also exhibits this effect. This occurrence is a popular science experiment in primary grade school.</blockquote>The following is from the book <a href=http://www.amazon.com/guide-nature-winter-Northeast-central/dp/0316817201/ref=tmm_hrd_title_0 target="_blank">A Guide to Nature in Winter</a> by Donald W. Stokes. I stumbled upon it in the library today, and it's so delightful that I ordered a used copy from Amazon. I'm looking forward to reading from it to Dylan.<blockquote>The seeds, small and lined with four rows of spines, are dispersed by animals, whose fur picks up the seeds as they pass by. Wild Carrot seeds can be gathered and steeped in hot water to make good-tasting tea -- fun to make after a winter walk. If you bite one of the seeds in the field you will find its flavor similar to that of cooked carrots. The seeds can be used as a spice; in fact, many plants from which we get spices are related to Wild Carrot, such as Caraway, Fennel, Coriander, Anise, and Parsley.</blockquote><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AWVCIFrGI/AAAAAAAAIcg/0CsaMs1WANg/s1600-h/IMG_3285.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 237px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AWVCIFrGI/AAAAAAAAIcg/0CsaMs1WANg/s320/IMG_3285.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440372900467420258" /></a><br /><a href=http://plants.usda.gov/java/profile?symbol=STTR target="_blank">American Bladdernut (<i>Staphylea trifolia</i>)</a> <br /><br /><i>See the <a href=http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/FirstSnowshoeHikeWithDylanFebruary132010# target="_blank">Picasa web album</a> for more shots of withered seed pods and fruit.</i><br /><br />My second photographic subject was a brindle seed pod. It reminds me of a Chinese lantern plant, although this was a shrub. I eventually found it in <a href=http://www.amazon.com/dp/0486272583 target="_blank">Graves's "Illustrated Guide to Trees and Shrubs"</a>.<br /><iframe frameborder="0" scrolling="no" style="border:0px" src="http://books.google.com/books?id=nTBy4RWqZHwC&lpg=PP1&pg=PA168&output=embed" width=400 height=500></iframe><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AWy8dqjfI/AAAAAAAAIdo/BquJl--DKhE/s1600-h/IMG_3951.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AWy8dqjfI/AAAAAAAAIdo/BquJl--DKhE/s320/IMG_3951.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440373414343380466" /></a><br /><i>Rocks blackened by manganese oxidation?</i><br /><br />I looked up to the rock cliff to the left and saw another teaching opportunity. I pointed out the rocks to Dylan and told him that the rocks we've seen fallen along the trail came from up there. I said "Look at how some parts of the rocks are blackened, and some parts are light brown. The black parts are black because of <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oxidation target="_blank">oxidation</a>. That's a chemical process that you won't understand for a long time, but the point is that when some things are exposed to air they turn black. The parts of the rock that have been exposed to air for a long time are black, but the light brown parts haven't. That's how you can tell that rocks broke off from those parts recently."<br /><br /><i>I know very little chemistry, so I wanted to check up on the assertion I made to Dylan that the black parts of the rock were black because of oxidation. A spot of Googling led me to the Pro Trails <a href=http://www.protrails.com/area.php?areaID=32&subid=1 target="_blank">page</a> on Petroglyph National Monument. The stones there, into which the Ancestral Pueblos carved their petroglyphs, certainly look similar to what Dylan and I saw. That page says that "The dark desert varnish on the face of the basalt rocks was caused by the oxidation of minerals such as manganese and iron."<br /><br />Grace and I were dredging our memories of chemistry in an attempt to figure out exactly why an oxidation process would change the color of a stone. Eventually I found <a href=http://www.cogito.org/Articles/ArticleDetail.aspx?ContentID=17458 target="_blank">an interesting article</a> about manganese and its several oxidation states. Then I looked at the Wikipedia <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Desert_varnish target="_blank">entry</a> on desert varnish, which says the following.<blockquote>Desert varnish forms only on physically stable rock surfaces that are no longer subject to frequent precipitation, fracturing or wind abrasion. The varnish is primarily composed of particles of clay along with iron and manganese oxides.[1] There is also a host of trace elements and almost always some organic matter. The color of the varnish varies from shades of brown to black.[2]</blockquote>So although the rocks along the trail certainly look like they were discolored by the same process of manganese oxidation, I'd need to talk to a geologist or a chemist to be sure.</i><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AWjRDlj5I/AAAAAAAAIdI/hXYflzJ3Faw/s1600-h/IMG_3602.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AWjRDlj5I/AAAAAAAAIdI/hXYflzJ3Faw/s320/IMG_3602.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440373144993238930" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AWihdVs_I/AAAAAAAAIcw/kxTwKWbjq0c/s1600-h/IMG_3491.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AWihdVs_I/AAAAAAAAIcw/kxTwKWbjq0c/s320/IMG_3491.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440373132216349682" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AWiy5YJdI/AAAAAAAAIc4/kC4Dbchpugc/s1600-h/IMG_3492.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 246px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AWiy5YJdI/AAAAAAAAIc4/kC4Dbchpugc/s320/IMG_3492.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440373136897353170" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AWyUOzMtI/AAAAAAAAIdY/aJaduQcAec0/s1600-h/IMG_3813.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AWyUOzMtI/AAAAAAAAIdY/aJaduQcAec0/s320/IMG_3813.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440373403543614162" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AWjGImPnI/AAAAAAAAIdA/kgQJuCvHU4E/s1600-h/IMG_3551.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AWjGImPnI/AAAAAAAAIdA/kgQJuCvHU4E/s320/IMG_3551.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440373142061465202" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AWyjKK17I/AAAAAAAAIdg/AJhp6GQjzDU/s1600-h/IMG_3858.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 246px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AWyjKK17I/AAAAAAAAIdg/AJhp6GQjzDU/s320/IMG_3858.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440373407550724018" /></a><br />Common barberry (<i>Berberis vulgaris</i>)<br /><br /><i>Gosh</i> I love the intellectual process sparked by traipsing about a trail and looking at stuff that catches my eye. And this particular process was spurned by the most unintellectual of exclamations: "Red!"<br /><br />For decades I've found that what one finds in nature is exponentially proportional to how hard one looks. In spring after the snow melts and the residue of winter coats every surface, it's easy to look at the landscape and see nothing but brown. Likewise, when the leaves have dropped and the world seems to have devoted all its energy to quiescence like a sullen child, it's easy to see nothing but stark white overlaid with shades of grey. But that's just us casting our own mental shadows onto a system that knows nothing of our dourness. Nature is always processing. Nature's always got plenty of red.<br /><br />Don't believe me? In the spring take a moment to look past the road scum. Gaze into the brush. Focus on the midground. Look for that hazy strip of red -- the constellation of reddish tinges from all the buds on all the shrubs focusing their energy like a legion of tiny green barbarians painting themselves in preparation for the frenzied yearly assault on <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Entropy target="_blank">entropy</a>.<br /><br />But you don't have to wait until spring. Hop in the car and park along <a href=http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/LinkTrail#5209194286184669186 target="_blank">Quarry Road</a>. Hike a little ways southwest on the Link Trail. At first you'll just see white and grey. I did. But if you're like me, you'll notice a little red and then start seeing more. Before long you'll be seeing a barrage of red: red that jumps out at you, screaming at you, daring you to call it "quiescent".<br /><br />And if you're like me, you'll be drawn to the source of the red: thorny shrubs, each with a host of ruby berries still hanging from them. You'll take lots of pictures. Then, later, as you're spending hours going through more than nine hundred pictures and choosing which ones to show people, you'll fume at yourself for doing so.<br /><br />Then you'll get curious as to what exactly the buggers are. It'll bother you that you've seen them all your life and all you really know is what your father told you: don't eat them because they might be poisonous. So you'll Google "thorny shrub red berries" and several variations on such wording. You'll find nothing.<br /><br />Eventually you'll find yourself at your local library thumbing through copies of <a href=http://www.amazon.com/dp/039535370X target="_blank">Peterson's "Field Guide to Trees and Shrubs"</a> and <a href=http://www.amazon.com/dp/0486272583 target="_blank">Graves's "Illustrated Guide to Trees and Shrubs"</a>. On page 119 of the latter you'll find the following.<br /><iframe frameborder="0" scrolling="no" style="border:0px" src="http://books.google.com/books?id=nTBy4RWqZHwC&lpg=PP1&pg=PA119&output=embed" width=400 height=500></iframe><br /><br />Then you'll do a bit more Googling and feel a sense of wonder. The <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Berberis_vulgaris target="_blank">Wikipedia entry</a> for Berberis vulgaris is so fascinating that I'm posting a big chunk of it here.<blockquote><b>Culinary uses</b><br /><br />The berries are edible, and rich in vitamin C, though with a very sharp flavour; the thorny shrubs make harvesting them difficult, so in most places they are not widely consumed. They are an important food for many small birds, which disperse the seeds in their droppings.<br /><br />A widely available Russian candy called Барбарис (Barberis) is made using extract from the berries, which are pictured on the wrapper.<br /><br />The Zereshk (زرشک) or sereshk is the Persian name for the dried fruit of Berberis vulgaris, which are widely cultivated in Iran. Iran is the largest producer of zereshk and saffron in the world. Zereshk and saffron are produced on the same land and the harvest is at the same time.<br /><br />The South Khorasan province in Iran is the main area of zereshk and saffron production in the world. Barberry cultivation in Iran is concentrated there, especially around Birjand and Qaen. About 85% of production is in Qaen and about 15% in Birjand. According to evidence the cultivation of seedless barberry in South Khorasan goes back to two hundred years ago.[1]<br /><br />A garden of zereshk is called zereshk-estan.<br /><br />Zereshk is widely used in cooking, imparting a tart flavor to chicken dishes. It is usually cooked with rice, called zereshk polo, and provides a nice meal with chicken. Zereshk jam, zereshk juice, and zereshk fruit rolls are also produced in Iran.</blockquote>The entry goes on to describe the plant's use in alternative medicine and its historical impact on the United States wheat crop. The USDA Forest Service Fire Effects Information System <a href=http://www.fs.fed.us/database/feis/plants/shrub/bervul/all.html target="_blank">entry</a> for Berberis vulgaris goes into more detail on this subject.<blockquote>Eradication efforts and effects on local distributions: Soon after the introduction and escape of common barberry in New England, colonists determined it was responsible for dramatic reductions in wheat crop yields [28]. Common barberry is an alternate host for cereal stem rust (Puccinia graminis). As a host, common barberry provides an inoculum source and a sexual reproduction site for stem rust (Leonard 2001 cited in [71]). When common barberry grows near cereal crops (‹330 feet (100 m) away) (Roelfs 1985 cited in [71]), it can support the development of new genotypes able to adapt and attack rust-resistant crops (Leonard 2001 cited in [71]). Earlier reports suggested that common barberry in urban areas was also able to spread stem rust to other grasses that eventually passed it on to wheat crops [80], suggesting there was no safe distance between common barberry and cereal crops. During epidemic stem rust outbreaks, wheat yield losses up to 70% were reported [71]. In 1916, stem rust was considered the principal reason for a 200 million bushel reduction in wheat yields for Minnesota, North Dakota, South Dakota, and Montana [80].<br /><br />In the 18th century, the New England colonists of Connecticut, Massachusetts, and Rhode Island wrote laws restricting the planting and spread of common barberry. Over time many other states developed laws against the sale, transport, and planting of new barberry (Berberis spp.) plants and for the removal of established plants. It was not until 1918, after "devastating" wheat losses to stem rust, that federal laws and funding were devoted to eradication. Eradication projects and funding between 1918 and 1942 led to the destruction of 309,645,502 landscape, escaped, and nursery plants from the 964,000 mile² (2,497,000 km²) eradication area that included nearly all of the North American spring-wheat growing areas [28]. Between 1935 and 1950, there were 150,087,197 common barberry or American barberry (B. canadensis) shrubs destroyed in West Virginia [84]. By 1956, nearly 500 million barberry shrubs were killed on 149,318 properties in 19 states [12]. Widespread barberry eradication was "gradually phased out" by 1980 [71]. It is important to note that scattered common barberry populations persist in several areas of North America, and the potential for long-distance seed dispersal by birds makes monitoring and early detection of common barberry important to long-term control.</blockquote>It's amazing to me that I can walk out onto the trail and obtain a profound connection to world and local history through the simple expedient of looking up <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Teasel target="_blank">teasel</a>, <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St._John%27s_Wort target="_blank">St. John's wort</a>, <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Queen_anne%27s_lace target="_blank">Queen Anne's lace</a> or Common Barberry.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4B_BIZLrvI/AAAAAAAAIfI/_yQitMnBut4/s1600-h/IMG_3385.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4B_BIZLrvI/AAAAAAAAIfI/_yQitMnBut4/s320/IMG_3385.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440488007273262834" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AWVcbeZLI/AAAAAAAAIco/6lWp2vBy6xU/s1600-h/IMG_3435.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AWVcbeZLI/AAAAAAAAIco/6lWp2vBy6xU/s320/IMG_3435.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440372907528053938" /></a><br /><i>Dylan bracing himself against one of the fallen rocks that I'd told him about at the beginning of the hike.</i><br /><br />Dylan got tired quickly, as you'd expect of a kid who's not used to snowshoes. He asked to turn around before we got to the quarry. At about that time I noticed a lot of vertical cracks in the rocks on the southern slope, so I took advantage of another teaching opportunity.<br /><br />I said to Dylan "You know why the rocks fall off those cliffs? When it rains, the water goes down into the cracks in the rocks. And then when winter comes and it gets cold, the water freezes and expands. Do you know what that means?"<br /><br />Dylan immediately answered "It gets bigger." Ah. I remember this feeling. It's the differential between adult perception of time and youthful passage of time. I still think of Dylan as four years old, but he just turned six. A lot of neurological development happens between four and six--a lot of neurological development that I've taken part in. Who knows, maybe I'm the one who told him what "expands" means during an earlier hike.<br /><br />So I continued with my explanation of how water fills cracks in the rocks, freezes, expands, and makes the rocks fall apart. I remember my father telling me this. I love coming full circle.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AWjigiMTI/AAAAAAAAIdQ/y64LNnMGhy4/s1600-h/IMG_3791.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 246px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AWjigiMTI/AAAAAAAAIdQ/y64LNnMGhy4/s320/IMG_3791.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440373149678055730" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AaJQx4usI/AAAAAAAAIfA/kmsW243txHU/s1600-h/CIMG0029.jpg"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AaJQx4usI/AAAAAAAAIfA/kmsW243txHU/s320/CIMG0029.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440377096288910018" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AaI70tGBI/AAAAAAAAIew/GMRIzh55kt4/s1600-h/CIMG0025.jpg"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S4AaI70tGBI/AAAAAAAAIew/GMRIzh55kt4/s320/CIMG0025.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440377090663585810" /></a><br /><i>Snowdrift ridge along the top of the slope and the northern edge of the trail</i><br /><br />This wavy soft-serve snow crest prompted me to attempt the most-difficult-to-teach lesson of the day. I pulled a trick I used to pull on Morgan when she was about eight years old and I was attempting to teach her the concept of surface-area-to-volume ratios. I said to Dylan "I want to tell you about something but it's very hard to understand." I never even got to the "I'll try if you think you're ready to listen" part. He said something like "I want to hear it."<br /><br />So I tried to translate what I know about the behavior of particles suspended in a fluid stream into kidspeak. Which is tricky, because "I just barely passed" is the polite version of the description of my performance in the fluid dynamics course I took eighteen years ago at Cornell. The not-so-polite version is "I was so completely clueless that I never should have passed at all."<br /><br />What came out was something like this: "The wind comes up the slope and then, here where the ground flattens out, the wind slows down because it has to fill this whole space. And when the air is going slower, it can't hold as much snow, so it dumps it right here along the top of the slope."<br /><br />There'll be more teaching opportunities.Hugh Yemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668946016239602558noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410357607277882916.post-3695652478686327752010-02-11T18:37:00.000-08:002010-02-16T17:21:05.040-08:00Time Capsule from July 4<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29D-LqFmHI/AAAAAAAAIN8/1dBp35ge32s/s1600-h/IMG_0238.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29D-LqFmHI/AAAAAAAAIN8/1dBp35ge32s/s320/IMG_0238.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435638010819745906" border="0" /></a><br /><i>For many, many, MANY more pictures from this hike, see the <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/LinkTrailHikeWithGraceAndDylanJuly4th2009" target="_blank">Picasa web album</a>.<br /><br />After Grace and I got back from the <a href=http://cnylinktrail.blogspot.com/2009/07/work-hike-details.html target="_blank">work hike</a> on the morning of July 4, we took Dylan on another hike. Unfortunately I've not had the time to document it until now. But perhaps February is an appropriate time for a July retrospective: I know that looking back on the light and colors of summer makes me smile.</i><br /><br /><hr /><br />Dylan was very excited to get back to the Link Trail. It's times like this when I feel like I could stop counting my blessings at one, and still consider myself lucky.<br /><br />I started to present him with his choices for places to hike, and at first I didn't get beyond "We could go back to the bridge over the creek where you threw sticks in, or we could go to the quarry..." He interjected that he wanted to go back to the quarry, but I said "Slow down, you haven't heard all the choices yet!" I continued, telling him that there are some parts of the Link Trail he hadn't seen, that go along a pretty stream. Immediately he changed his mind, saying he wanted to go to the part where he hadn't been!<br /><br />We drove to <a href="http://www.bing.com/maps/default.aspx?v=2&FORM=LMLTCP&cp=42.961531%7E-75.831531&style=h&lvl=16&tilt=-90&dir=0&alt=-1000&scene=4892122&phx=0&phy=0&phscl=1&encType=1&cid=F220DB2981690E8E%21112" target="_blank">Bingley</a> and parked in the little area at the end of Emhoff Road. While looking at wildflowers right next to the parking area, I got excited at seeing a small toad. Unfortunately I lost it before I could show it to Dylan. We went north a few hundred feet so that we could write in the trail register, and then headed south. As we descended the small gravel switchback trail to Bingley Road I explained to Dylan the concept of a switchback, and how we were walking gradually downward and across the slope rather than trying to go straight down. Then, after climbing the staircase, I explained to him that the fence with the door is there to let people through but keep four-wheelers out.<br /><br />Before we got far, I got excited about photo ops and Dylan got excited about construction equipment. His most excited exclamation of the day was "WOW, FRONT LOADER!!!" Having a quarry and a few private businesses with construction equipment along the trail is a huge bonus for hiking with a small boy.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29DX2dyvJI/AAAAAAAAIM0/wMbUGUCVSr0/s1600-h/IMG_9080.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29DX2dyvJI/AAAAAAAAIM0/wMbUGUCVSr0/s320/IMG_9080.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435637352296004754" border="0" /></a><br /><i><b>Snail on plant</b><br /><br />This snail was the first photo-op of the hike. This photo represents the state of my macro photography skills. The tail end of the snail, along with parts of the plant it's climbing, are in focus, but its antennae are little more than a blur. Yes, this gives a sense of intimacy and focus on the rear shell patterns, but I would like to be able to choose to have more of the critter in focus, and for that I need to spend more timer jiggering with F-stops and exposures and ISO settings.</i><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29DXnj-y0I/AAAAAAAAIMs/lzPJbunMnyE/s1600-h/IMG_9147.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 245px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29DXnj-y0I/AAAAAAAAIMs/lzPJbunMnyE/s320/IMG_9147.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435637348295428930" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><b>Deptford pink</b></span><br /><br /><i>This <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dianthus_armeria" target="_blank">species</a> has been a favorite companion ever since around 1992, when I began my wildflower hikes. It's an elusively narcissistic little bugger: it doesn't deign to show its face at my parties very often, but on those occasions when I catch a blast of saturated pink from the side of the trail, I always stop and smile. How could I <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span></span></span></span>do otherwise?</i><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29DXUBsqtI/AAAAAAAAIMk/SMOPD9z8Oso/s1600-h/IMG_9212.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 232px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29DXUBsqtI/AAAAAAAAIMk/SMOPD9z8Oso/s320/IMG_9212.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435637343051360978" border="0" /></a><br /><i><b>Forget-me-not</b><br /><br />Here's what I wrote after my first, erroneous attempt to identify this flower.<blockquote><br />Wow. I just had one of those frustrating experiences where I thought I knew something and then I spent the better part of an hour having Google and Wikipedia teach me otherwise. This looks like what my mother used to call "baby's breath" but, as it turns out, that's about as definite as saying "That's a Queen Anne's lace". There are over 70 species of what people call Queen Anne's lace, and as it turns out there are about 100 species in the genus <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gypsophila" target="_blank">Gypsophilia</a>. If anyone could tell me what species this is, I'd appreciate it.</blockquote>As it turns out, I made the mistake I always make: confusing baby's breath with <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Forget-me-not" target="_blank">forget-me-not</a>. This looks like a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Myosotis_laxa" target="_blank">Myosotis laxa</a>, or tufted forget-me-not. It also looks like <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Myosotis_nemorosa" target="_blank">Myosotis nemorosa</a>, or possibly like several others on the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Forget-me-not" target="_blank">Wikipedia page</a> for the genus.</i><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29DXHqQf0I/AAAAAAAAIMc/3xZR0ibzjnk/s1600-h/IMG_9280.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29DXHqQf0I/AAAAAAAAIMc/3xZR0ibzjnk/s320/IMG_9280.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435637339731820354" border="0" /></a><br /><i><b>Harvestman</b><br /><br />I can never resist a good shot of one of these fascinating creatures. For more on the ancient order Opiliones, see the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Opiliones" target="_blank">Wikipidea entry</a>.</i><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29C8myUUiI/AAAAAAAAIMU/adZFmtwMdRs/s1600-h/IMG_9328.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 228px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29C8myUUiI/AAAAAAAAIMU/adZFmtwMdRs/s320/IMG_9328.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435636884230656546" border="0" /></a><br /><i><b>What my father used to call a "water-skipper"</b><br /><br /><i>Sigh.</i> I thought the term "baby's breath" was vague, but that's nothing compared to this insect's genus. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gerridae" target="_blank">Gerridae</a> contains "around 500 known species, commonly placed in around 60 genera". Good luck figuring out which species this is. I know enough from the hours I've spent on <a href="http://bugguide.net/" target="_blank">BugGuide.net</a> that I'd need </i>much<i> more detailed pictures than this in order to get even close to identifying them.</i><br /><br /><br />We saw a fairly well-traveled trail coming in from the left that looked like private property to me, so I took the opportunity to tell Dylan about the importance of respecting private property and staying off it. Then we saw a big trail that led down the slope to the right. It was clearly a public fishing access, so we headed down to check it out. It turned out to be an ideal place to take a kid, and to take pictures. I tried to explain to Dylan how the steps beneath the culvert slow down the stream flow so that it hits the downstream pool as gently as possible and so minimimizes erosion. I don't know how well I did.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29C8ShuUnI/AAAAAAAAIMM/8e6N23VWNhU/s1600-h/IMG_9397.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29C8ShuUnI/AAAAAAAAIMM/8e6N23VWNhU/s320/IMG_9397.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435636878792348274" border="0" /></a><br /><i><b>Unidentified arthropod on rock</b></i><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29C74yDYqI/AAAAAAAAIME/httWCNGDBUE/s1600-h/IMG_9435.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29C74yDYqI/AAAAAAAAIME/httWCNGDBUE/s320/IMG_9435.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435636871881515682" border="0" /></a><br /><i><b>Identified anthropoids on rocks</b></i><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29C72M7n5I/AAAAAAAAIL8/1BdX5Xz7QcE/s1600-h/IMG_9472.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 228px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29C72M7n5I/AAAAAAAAIL8/1BdX5Xz7QcE/s320/IMG_9472.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435636871188946834" border="0" /></a><br /><i><b>Buttercup</b><br /><br />This is probably a common buttercup, or <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ranunculus_acris" target="_blank">Ranunculus acris</a>, but it could be one of a few <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ranunculus" target="_blank">Ranunculus</a>. It's impossible to say for sure because I didn't get a shot of the stem or leaves.</i><br /><br />We crossed the slippery, tippy rocks while holding Dylan's hand, and I got some great shots of flowers and arachnids and water-skippers. Grace got some shots of me and Dylan on the culvert, and we made our way back across the stream and up to the trail.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S3RQKIbolMI/AAAAAAAAIPE/jRvjImph04Y/s1600-h/IMG_9495.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 228px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S3RQKIbolMI/AAAAAAAAIPE/jRvjImph04Y/s320/IMG_9495.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437058785135334594" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29C7t5WoII/AAAAAAAAIL0/oWZDx1yom6w/s1600-h/IMG_9486.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 227px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29C7t5WoII/AAAAAAAAIL0/oWZDx1yom6w/s320/IMG_9486.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435636868959346818" border="0" /></a><br /><i><span style="font-weight: bold;">Fragrant bedstraw, or Galium triflorum</span><br /><br />My first guess was <a href=http://www.nearctica.com/flowers/rubia/Gmoll.htm target="_blank">wild madder</a> because I remember that one from my old wildflower walks. But after looking it up in my <a href="http://books.google.com/books?id=HZPKMgaj_dEC&lpg=PP1&pg=PA40#v=onepage" target="_blank">Peterson's</a> I think this is <a href="http://www.nearctica.com/flowers/rubia/Gtrifl.htm" target="_blank">fragrant bedstraw</a>. Note that the lower leaves are in whorls of six and that the stems appear to be hairless.<br /><br /><br /></i><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29CiqTRrtI/AAAAAAAAILs/q51UaDzktcI/s1600-h/IMG_9533.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29CiqTRrtI/AAAAAAAAILs/q51UaDzktcI/s320/IMG_9533.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435636438497603282" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Tiny spider on leaf</span><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29CiQUZBdI/AAAAAAAAILk/uPfSW_MCdDY/s1600-h/IMG_9617.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29CiQUZBdI/AAAAAAAAILk/uPfSW_MCdDY/s320/IMG_9617.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435636431522956754" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Grace spinning Dylan</span><br /><br />I'm grateful to Grace for being such a cheerful companion to Dylan, because it gives me some leeway for lagging behind and snapping away with the camera. She kept him busy while I got many shots for the Link Trail wildflower guide that I'm hoping to start compiling soon. And of course there were the lucky finds of bees and spiders and such on some of those flowers. When I caught up with them, Grace was swinging him around like a giggling whirligig - a whirligiggle?<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S3Q_rYrt5GI/AAAAAAAAIO8/v5SkmgziJBI/s1600-h/IMG_9637.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S3Q_rYrt5GI/AAAAAAAAIO8/v5SkmgziJBI/s320/IMG_9637.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437040664735769698" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29CiAG5x7I/AAAAAAAAILc/J2VCdfxjAuU/s1600-h/IMG_9658.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29CiAG5x7I/AAAAAAAAILc/J2VCdfxjAuU/s320/IMG_9658.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435636427171415986" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29ChzHONPI/AAAAAAAAILU/nWLmEx-EdCo/s1600-h/IMG_9683.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 230px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29ChzHONPI/AAAAAAAAILU/nWLmEx-EdCo/s320/IMG_9683.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435636423683093746" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Wild basil, or <a href=http://www.pbase.com/holopain/image/45954467 target="_blank">Satureja vulgaris</a></span><br /><br /><i>I spent an hour or two identifying this plant. For most of that time I was in the blue/violet section of my <a href="http://books.google.com/books?id=HZPKMgaj_dEC&lpg=PP1&pg=PA40#v=onepage" target="_blank">Peterson's Guide to Wildflowers</a>. It's not the first time I've made this mistake. A lot of flowers I think of as primarily blue, Peterson obviously thought of as primarily red. Also, judging from some of the botanical plates I found online, this particular species seems to have a blue variety and a pink variety.<br /><br />So I was on the verge of pulling my hair out, thinking this was in the genus <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mentha" target="_blank">Mentha</a> but not being able to find anything closer than <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pennyroyal target="_blank">pennyroyal</a>. But the two were structurally different in enough ways that it seemed impossible that they could be the same plant.<br /><br />I actually started to wonder if it was a <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Veronica_%28plant%29 target="_blank">speedwell</a> but the blossoms looked much more like a mint than a speedwell. Finally I noticed on page 352 the note "See also pink and lavender species on p. 252." Once I started looking in the red/pink flowers, it was only a matter of time before I discovered the wild basil. I gave myself a mental forehead-smack just now as I noticed the following words at the front page of the "Violet to Blue Flowers" chapter.<blockquote>We repeat the warning here that it is not always easy to separate some lavender or reddish-purple flowers (treated in a pink-red section, which starts on page 212) from some violet ones, shown here in the following pages. If in doubt, look in both places.</blockquote>I won't forget again.</i><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29Chg4C_7I/AAAAAAAAILM/0Pz5n04_rjg/s1600-h/IMG_9692.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29Chg4C_7I/AAAAAAAAILM/0Pz5n04_rjg/s320/IMG_9692.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435636418787606450" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Hop clover, or <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trifolium_agrarium target="_blank">Trifolium agrarium</a></span><br /><br /><i>When I looked at the nodding head on the left I thought "hops". Imagine my delight when I found the following entry on <a href=http://books.google.com/books?id=HZPKMgaj_dEC&lpg=PP1&pg=PA150#v=twopage&q=&f=false target="_blank">page 150</a> of my <a href=http://books.google.com/books?id=HZPKMgaj_dEC&printsec=frontcover&source=gbs_v2_summary_r&cad=0#v=onepage&q=&f=false target="_blank">Peterson's Guide to Wildflowers</a>:</i><blockquote>...When flower heads (1/2-3/4 in.) wither, florets <i>fold down</i>, become brownish, suggesting dried hops.</blockquote> <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29CAR07qsI/AAAAAAAAILE/EIfxMs8-_zw/s1600-h/IMG_9741.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29CAR07qsI/AAAAAAAAILE/EIfxMs8-_zw/s320/IMG_9741.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435635847812328130" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Black-eyed susan, or <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rudbeckia_hirta" target="_blank">Rudbeckia hirta</a></span><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29CAF6E5GI/AAAAAAAAIK8/nHpcMa3WaC8/s1600-h/IMG_9820.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 227px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29CAF6E5GI/AAAAAAAAIK8/nHpcMa3WaC8/s320/IMG_9820.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435635844612678754" border="0" /></a><br /><i><b>Heal-all, or <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prunella_vulgaris" target="_blank">Prunella vulgaris</a></b></i><br /><br />If you have a <a href="http://books.google.com/books?id=HZPKMgaj_dEC&printsec=frontcover&source=gbs_v2_summary_r&cad=0#v=onepage&q=&f=false" target="_blank">Peterson's Guide to Wildflowers</a> take a look at pages 350-351 (which unfortunately aren't available in the Google Books preview). I think that the general appearance of the flower head, combined with the near-toothless leaves, allows us to unambiguously identify it as heal-all.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29B_02DqYI/AAAAAAAAIK0/TR9MCbg_j60/s1600-h/IMG_9850.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 228px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29B_02DqYI/AAAAAAAAIK0/TR9MCbg_j60/s320/IMG_9850.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435635840032418178" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29B_kYI9II/AAAAAAAAIKs/d8zG3MAt5Kw/s1600-h/IMG_9877.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 227px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29B_kYI9II/AAAAAAAAIKs/d8zG3MAt5Kw/s320/IMG_9877.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435635835611968642" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29D-LqFmHI/AAAAAAAAIN8/1dBp35ge32s/s1600-h/IMG_0238.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29D-LqFmHI/AAAAAAAAIN8/1dBp35ge32s/s320/IMG_0238.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435638010819745906" border="0" /></a><br />Rough-fruited cinquefoil entertaining a guest</span></span><br /><br />I've always gotten a smile from this very common <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Potentilla_recta" target="_blank">species</a>, and that was before I took these macro shots. That last shot is the best photo I've ever taken. I jumped up and down and squealed when I saw it on the screen. See a larger version of the shot <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/LinkTrailHikeWithGraceAndDylanJuly4th2009#5425233880867636994" target="_blank">here</a>.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S3SPuraRJeI/AAAAAAAAIPk/RACoaDSW-6U/s1600-h/IMG_9902.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S3SPuraRJeI/AAAAAAAAIPk/RACoaDSW-6U/s320/IMG_9902.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437128682232686050" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29B_d_6K7I/AAAAAAAAIKk/VTebDWbnR3I/s1600-h/IMG_9935.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 230px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29B_d_6K7I/AAAAAAAAIKk/VTebDWbnR3I/s320/IMG_9935.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435635833899723698" border="0" /></a><br /><i><b>Yarrow, or <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Achillea_millefolium target="_blank">Achillea millefolium</a>.</b><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29EEoNbG0I/AAAAAAAAIOc/-1LrGua71C0/s1600-h/IMG_0004.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 251px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29EEoNbG0I/AAAAAAAAIOc/-1LrGua71C0/s320/IMG_0004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435638121563364162" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Wood strawberry, or <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fragaria_vesca target="_blank">Fragaria vesca</a></span><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29EEglhDgI/AAAAAAAAIOU/kSjuhjQs_LI/s1600-h/IMG_0064.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29EEglhDgI/AAAAAAAAIOU/kSjuhjQs_LI/s320/IMG_0064.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435638119516933634" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Leaf miner tracks</span></span><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29D-U5QinI/AAAAAAAAIOM/z6VhLMg-Nsc/s1600-h/IMG_0111.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29D-U5QinI/AAAAAAAAIOM/z6VhLMg-Nsc/s320/IMG_0111.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435638013299296882" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S3Rk1CrounI/AAAAAAAAIPM/EqfCrmo8gkM/s1600-h/IMG_0161.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 228px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S3Rk1CrounI/AAAAAAAAIPM/EqfCrmo8gkM/s320/IMG_0161.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437081512558770802" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S3R85XodYqI/AAAAAAAAIPU/QsjYDVsmiXU/s1600-h/Lygus_lineolaris.jpg"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 236px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S3R85XodYqI/AAAAAAAAIPU/QsjYDVsmiXU/s320/Lygus_lineolaris.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437107975181132450" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Purple-flowering raspberry</span></span><br /><br /><i>This is a Purple-flowering Raspberry, or <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rubus_odoratus target="_blank">Rubus odoratus</a>. Note the insect on the flower in the second picture. Don't see it? That's OK, I didn't know it was there when I was taking the shot! See the closeup in the third picture. That's one of my favorite things about nature photography: the surprises waiting for me when I look at the shots on a computer screen.<br /><br />After about two hours browsing <a href=http://bugguide.net target="_blank">Bug Guide</a> I believe that I've unambiguously identified the critter: <a href=http://bugguide.net/node/view/16892/bgpage target="_blank">Tarnished Plant Bug (Lygus lineolaris)</a>. If my <a href=http://bugguide.net/node/view/371043 target="_blank">image submission</a> gets moved by one of the experts, I'll know I was wrong.</i><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29D-cNcQxI/AAAAAAAAIOE/wM_zMN8t3r8/s1600-h/IMG_0191.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29D-cNcQxI/AAAAAAAAIOE/wM_zMN8t3r8/s320/IMG_0191.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435638015262999314" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Cow vetch<br /><br /><i>I believe that this is cow vetch, or <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vicia_cracca target="_blank">Vicia cracca</a>.</i><br /><br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29D9yVAF3I/AAAAAAAAIN0/RJ1iOi2pI6o/s1600-h/IMG_0303.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29D9yVAF3I/AAAAAAAAIN0/RJ1iOi2pI6o/s320/IMG_0303.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435638004020418418" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Midges(?) swarming against a rock(???)</span></span><br /><br />On the way back I saw one of those things that makes you stop and wonder just what you're looking at. The sun picked out a seed pod or somesuch suspended in midair between a tree and a rock, so I went to check out the spider web. As I approached the boulder a cloud of insects scattered away from it, some colliding with me and some zipping past me. But much of the cloud remained, swarming around the shaded face of the rock. They appeared to be battering themselves against it, although the motion was too frenetic to be quite sure what I was seeing. All that I know is that I've never seen anything like it. Take a look at the shots and tell me if you know what I saw.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29D9vLMAxI/AAAAAAAAINs/MCZo4WcX-dk/s1600-h/IMG_0333.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29D9vLMAxI/AAAAAAAAINs/MCZo4WcX-dk/s320/IMG_0333.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435638003173950226" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Closeup of cinders from the old railroad bed</span></span><br /><br />I asked Al Larmann about the material found on old railroad beds, and he said that gravel or other small stones were used, and that this was called ballast. I replied...<blockquote>Thanks Al. I think you've led me to the answer. The Wikipedia page <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Track_ballast">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Track_ballast</a> says that...<blockquote>A good ballast should be strong, hard-wearing, stable, drainable, easy to clean, workable, resistant to deformation, easily available, and reasonably cheap to purchase.[2] Early railway engineers did not understand the importance of quality track ballast; they would use cheap and easily-available materials such as ashes, chalk, clay,[3] earth, and even cinders from locomotive fireboxes.[4] It was soon clear that good-quality ballast made of rock was necessary if there was to be a good foundation and adequate drainage.[3]</blockquote>So am I correct in thinking that this material that covers parts of the Link Trail is cinders? It does seem like something that came from a furnace, because it seems far too light and porous to be unprocessed stone.</blockquote>Al's reply goes into some interesting history of the railroad.<blockquote>Hugh--<br />I concur--The original Cazenovia and Canastota RR was built about 1870. Although their surveying skills were good--given the manner in which they were able to find a way around the Perryville area falls and cut into the hills as you approached Cazenovia, I am sure that the basic ballast used was cinder based.I do not recall where I saw the comment, but there was some industry locally that generated a large quantity of cinders. The engines were small in size and limited in power output. I do remember that the original bridge in Cazenovia spanning the creek was tested by placing the steam engine upon it--it passed, an empirical solution.</blockquote><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29DsPXAksI/AAAAAAAAINk/wK4r7zSUp5k/s1600-h/IMG_0400.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 228px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29DsPXAksI/AAAAAAAAINk/wK4r7zSUp5k/s320/IMG_0400.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435637702575821506" border="0" /></a><br /><i><b>Daisy fleabane</b><br /><br />I believe that this is daisy fleabane, or <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Erigeron_annuus" target="">Erigeron annuus</a>.</i><br /><br /><br /><a onblur=" try=" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Erigeron_annuus"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29Dr5DfgaI/AAAAAAAAINc/6PgkIIfnnMM/s320/IMG_0405.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435637696588382626" border="0" /></a><br /><i><b>Tiny flies on oxeye daisy, or <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oxeye_daisy target="_blank">Leucanthemum vulgare</a></b></i><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S3SEVtVbiHI/AAAAAAAAIPc/wKvI0hxrnkE/s1600-h/IMG_0512.JPG"><img style="blockt:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 228px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S3SEVtVbiHI/AAAAAAAAIPc/wKvI0hxrnkE/s320/IMG_0512.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437116158624630898" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29DrnQg1dI/AAAAAAAAINU/WerGSS4H2Vg/s1600-h/IMG_0462.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29DrnQg1dI/AAAAAAAAINU/WerGSS4H2Vg/s320/IMG_0462.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435637691811157458" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29DrhhF4NI/AAAAAAAAINM/nkozEpP1aOg/s1600-h/IMG_0478.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29DrhhF4NI/AAAAAAAAINM/nkozEpP1aOg/s320/IMG_0478.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435637690270081234" border="0" /></a><br />Yellow avens (Geum aleppicum) with aphid (nymph?) on blossom</span></span><br /><br /><i>The top picture shows the whole <a href=http://www.nearctica.com/flowers/rosa/geum/Gallep.htm target="_blank">yellow avens</a> plant. The second shows a cute little aphid on the blossom, and the third shows the distinctive fruit. Look closely - here's another example of spiderwebs being </i>everywhere<i>!</i><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29DrXkNRiI/AAAAAAAAINE/ygKGcc0I434/s1600-h/IMG_0609.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29DrXkNRiI/AAAAAAAAINE/ygKGcc0I434/s320/IMG_0609.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435637687598794274" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Bee pollinating oxeye daisy, or <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oxeye_daisy target="_blank">Leucanthemum vulgare</a></span></span><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29DYLDdXMI/AAAAAAAAIM8/TvDw7nwAxK0/s1600-h/IMG_0644.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/S29DYLDdXMI/AAAAAAAAIM8/TvDw7nwAxK0/s320/IMG_0644.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435637357822696642" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">One last parting shot of Deptford pink</span></span><br /></i>Hugh Yemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668946016239602558noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410357607277882916.post-13124646743956481702009-08-08T03:44:00.001-07:002010-02-23T18:00:05.652-08:00Seen on the Link TrailBettina submitted the following shots and captions from her hike yesterday. Thanks Bettina!<br /><p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sn1XBJFaRTI/AAAAAAAAG-w/brrEiOjQFX0/s1600-h/Lobelia,+gt-760890.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sn1XBJFaRTI/AAAAAAAAG-w/brrEiOjQFX0/s320/Lobelia,+gt-760890.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367542008025597234" /></a><br />Great Lobelia</p><br /><p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sn1XBeEeArI/AAAAAAAAG-4/3wldvlALUJ0/s1600-h/snakert,+blk08+07+09_1373+jpg-761661.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sn1XBeEeArI/AAAAAAAAG-4/3wldvlALUJ0/s320/snakert,+blk08+07+09_1373+jpg-761661.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367542013658792626" /></a><br />Black Snake root</p><br /><p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sn1XBrPad6I/AAAAAAAAG_A/A8r7Ob4j9_k/s1600-h/bee-balm+cu+7-20-762800.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sn1XBrPad6I/AAAAAAAAG_A/A8r7Ob4j9_k/s320/bee-balm+cu+7-20-762800.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367542017194358690" /></a><br />Beebalm</p><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sn1cAMO6d2I/AAAAAAAAG_g/EPHha7fJgew/s1600-h/baneberry_red.jpg"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 301px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sn1cAMO6d2I/AAAAAAAAG_g/EPHha7fJgew/s320/baneberry_red.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367547489249032034" /></a><br />Red baneberry, berries<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sn1cAZ-cG7I/AAAAAAAAG_o/t89oXpmy17Q/s1600-h/baneberry_white.jpg"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 276px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sn1cAZ-cG7I/AAAAAAAAG_o/t89oXpmy17Q/s320/baneberry_white.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367547492938030002" /></a><br />White baneberry, 'Doll's Eyes'<br /><br /><p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sn1XB8lScoI/AAAAAAAAG_I/F1nTEqy7hOY/s1600-h/Joe+pye+Weed,+spt-763665.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sn1XB8lScoI/AAAAAAAAG_I/F1nTEqy7hOY/s320/Joe+pye+Weed,+spt-763665.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367542021849510530" /></a><br />Joe Pye Weed</p><br /><p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sn1XCFovhXI/AAAAAAAAG_Q/XlznMBOp34M/s1600-h/turtlehead08+27-764246.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sn1XCFovhXI/AAAAAAAAG_Q/XlznMBOp34M/s320/turtlehead08+27-764246.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367542024279917938" /></a><br />Turtlehead</p><br /><p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sn1XCLVCpYI/AAAAAAAAG_Y/CgV2RSOpOZE/s1600-h/boneset-764963.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sn1XCLVCpYI/AAAAAAAAG_Y/CgV2RSOpOZE/s320/boneset-764963.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367542025807897986" /></a><br />Boneset</p>Hugh Yemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668946016239602558noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410357607277882916.post-35573033139330950732009-07-25T17:50:00.000-07:002010-02-23T18:02:31.893-08:00Work Hike Details (July 4)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sm0APMLD19I/AAAAAAAAG6k/T_Y5VpT3wQU/s1600-h/P1320550.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sm0APMLD19I/AAAAAAAAG6k/T_Y5VpT3wQU/s320/P1320550.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362942992233781202" /></a><br /><i>For many more pictures from this hike, see the Picasa web <a href=http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/WorkHikeSouthOfCazenoviaJuly42009# target="_blank">album</a>.</i><br /><br />Grace and I met Steve, Mike, Carol, and Kathy at about 9:00 in Cazenovia. From there we carpooled to a section of trail a few miles south of Stone Quarry Art Park. We divvied up the <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mattock target="_blank">pick mattocks</a>, shovels, rakes, buckets, bow saws and sundry supplies and headed south. Grace and I talked to Steve as we followed the winding trail through the woods. He's a retired Air Force doctor who does volunteer work now, so he's an interesting person to talk to. Of course Grace, being a Columbia student, had more in the medical line to talk to him about.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Smz9uN3wQKI/AAAAAAAAG5s/eJdv8wYO37s/s1600-h/P1320406.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Smz9uN3wQKI/AAAAAAAAG5s/eJdv8wYO37s/s320/P1320406.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362940226730737826" /></a><br /><i>These beautiful little flowers were all over the place. At the time, Grace and I thought they were wintergreen, but they turned out to be <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mitchella_repens target="_blank">partridge berry</a>.</i><br /><br />We got to the site, dropped the gear, and followed Steve as he explained the whys and wherefores of the project. There was a beautiful view down to the stream on our left from along the top of the steep right bank. For a hundred yards or so the trail ran along that edge and then crossed near the ravine's downhill entrance. But the crossing itself had become a problem. The stream banks, along with the trail leading down to them, were steep enough to cause falls. Today's goal was to close off that section of trail and establish a crossing upstream.<br /><br />Steve had chosen a point where the stream flowed over a broad, flat, level shelf of solid rock. We would be cutting a new trail that curved to the left off the existing one, forming a switchback with a gentle slope down to the crossing.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Smz9dFeoGvI/AAAAAAAAG5k/cs-TkjuqPSA/s1600-h/P1320422.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Smz9dFeoGvI/AAAAAAAAG5k/cs-TkjuqPSA/s320/P1320422.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362939932420086514" /></a><br />The main engineering task was to level off the trail and extend it out into the stream so that hikers will be able to take a single, short step down onto the stone. Since the edge of the stream was very muddy, this meant constructing a platform. Steve told us what size rocks we needed and sent us to gather them from the soon-to-be-ex-crossing. I started hauling buckets of these rocks up the trail while Steve went to work with his chainsaw.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Smz-84JxJfI/AAAAAAAAG50/93OmfFn75D8/s1600-h/P1320443.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Smz-84JxJfI/AAAAAAAAG50/93OmfFn75D8/s320/P1320443.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362941578110379506" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Smz_OW_aWDI/AAAAAAAAG58/6gyLjEG6U1o/s1600-h/P1320455.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Smz_OW_aWDI/AAAAAAAAG58/6gyLjEG6U1o/s320/P1320455.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362941878446217266" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Smz_OscHPCI/AAAAAAAAG6E/4nipflCtC1I/s1600-h/P1320466.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Smz_OscHPCI/AAAAAAAAG6E/4nipflCtC1I/s320/P1320466.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362941884203744290" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Smz_hiVcTpI/AAAAAAAAG6M/4WqtszKXxjM/s1600-h/P1320473.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Smz_hiVcTpI/AAAAAAAAG6M/4WqtszKXxjM/s320/P1320473.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362942207908925074" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Smz_30fuX-I/AAAAAAAAG6U/_dO67Qe2qfo/s1600-h/P1320488.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Smz_30fuX-I/AAAAAAAAG6U/_dO67Qe2qfo/s320/P1320488.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362942590741012450" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Smz_4EmUYLI/AAAAAAAAG6c/1VFaKkZHwUU/s1600-h/P1320512.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Smz_4EmUYLI/AAAAAAAAG6c/1VFaKkZHwUU/s320/P1320512.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362942595063636146" /></a><br /><br />By the time I'd formed a decent pile of rocks downstream of the crossing, Steve had returned with two sawed-off pine logs about six feet long and eight inches in diameter. He placed the logs about three feet apart on one end of a sheet of Eco-plastic fabric. He and Mike began carefully placing the rocks onto the fabric between the logs, fitting them together to form a solid foundation. I, Grace and Kathy kept hauling rocks while the platform slowly took shape. Soon Steve folded over the Eco-plastic and tucked it in, making a sort of rock sandwich.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sm0APSUsdNI/AAAAAAAAG6s/NHBGZ8cC-Ns/s1600-h/P1320567.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sm0APSUsdNI/AAAAAAAAG6s/NHBGZ8cC-Ns/s320/P1320567.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362942993884804306" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sm0AuzB_K7I/AAAAAAAAG68/JPk4FEkVJ-k/s1600-h/P1320585.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sm0AuzB_K7I/AAAAAAAAG68/JPk4FEkVJ-k/s320/P1320585.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362943535240653746" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sm0Auu7zWFI/AAAAAAAAG60/rPKozSARfAQ/s1600-h/IMG_8842.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sm0Auu7zWFI/AAAAAAAAG60/rPKozSARfAQ/s320/IMG_8842.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362943534140971090" /></a><br />Before we could start piling on the dirt, we had to have a dirt supply. Fortunately there was one forthcoming: the switchback trail we were about to carve into the slope. Steve spotted an adorable little salamander, and I got some shots of it while he explained about digging the trail. I also got some shots of a harvestman that was <i>very</i> anxious to be part of a photo op.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sm0BRXav_5I/AAAAAAAAG7E/FHLAX1BD1BI/s1600-h/P1320599.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sm0BRXav_5I/AAAAAAAAG7E/FHLAX1BD1BI/s320/P1320599.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362944129123745682" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sm0BRlT0B2I/AAAAAAAAG7M/bMg3WlDDdPw/s1600-h/P1320606.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sm0BRlT0B2I/AAAAAAAAG7M/bMg3WlDDdPw/s320/P1320606.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362944132852746082" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sm0BR0OE26I/AAAAAAAAG7U/QlbVvS0zRYE/s1600-h/P1320618.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sm0BR0OE26I/AAAAAAAAG7U/QlbVvS0zRYE/s320/P1320618.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362944136855215010" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sm0Bv7C8aAI/AAAAAAAAG7s/udQEW4VaUCc/s1600-h/P1320639.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sm0Bv7C8aAI/AAAAAAAAG7s/udQEW4VaUCc/s320/P1320639.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362944654083647490" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sm0BvldY8NI/AAAAAAAAG7k/dxC4RtxCW8o/s1600-h/P1320644.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sm0BvldY8NI/AAAAAAAAG7k/dxC4RtxCW8o/s320/P1320644.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362944648288989394" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sm0BvX7Ri7I/AAAAAAAAG7c/ypL_3vby7-U/s1600-h/P1320671.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sm0BvX7Ri7I/AAAAAAAAG7c/ypL_3vby7-U/s320/P1320671.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362944644656237490" /></a><br />Per Steve's instructions, we used the mattocks to chop and slough off the top layer of organic material and roots, and then went to work with the shovels and rakes. The idea was to make a trail with a consistently gentle slope, and a slight outward slant so that rain wouldn't collect on it. We cut the upward edge with the mattocks, pulled back the organic layer, shoveled the underlying dirt downward, collected the dirt in buckets, and shuttled it down to the platform. Pretty soon we couldn't see where the trail ended and platform started: we were building a level terminus to the crossing. As we were finishing up, we met a pair of hikers with their dog. They were the last hikers to travel down the old trail.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sm0CDSB1Q_I/AAAAAAAAG70/uxp2CGI-EIc/s1600-h/P1320688.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sm0CDSB1Q_I/AAAAAAAAG70/uxp2CGI-EIc/s320/P1320688.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362944986670515186" /></a><br />The new trail was taking shape, so we branched out into new jobs. Grace and Carrol took hammers and went to work removing old blazes and nailing up new ones. The rest of us piled branches onto the trail just beyond the new bend so that people would know to take a left. I spied a medium-sized pine tree lying uprooted about forty feet north of the old path, so I grabbed a bow saw, cut if off at the base, and wrestled it back through the woods. This would have been a lot easier if the base hadn't been pointing away from the trail to begin with; I had to turn it around before I could start dragging. By the time I'd hauled it onto the newly closed section of trail, I felt very close to my father. I'd had an excuse to do something egregiously manly, which was just his style.<br /><br />By the time I got this done, everyone but Kathy was at the other end of the new section, clearing trail and blocking off the old stream crossing. Steve was just about ready to wrap things up when Grace and I said our goodbyes a little before 1:00. We had a date with my nephew for another Link Trail hike!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sm0CSbQR6_I/AAAAAAAAG8E/t9F2YBgN1ME/s1600-h/P1320694.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sm0CSbQR6_I/AAAAAAAAG8E/t9F2YBgN1ME/s320/P1320694.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362945246845070322" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sm0CSYPsklI/AAAAAAAAG78/DFFa5G0Cz0k/s1600-h/P1320703.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sm0CSYPsklI/AAAAAAAAG78/DFFa5G0Cz0k/s320/P1320703.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362945246037316178" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sm0C99KBs8I/AAAAAAAAG8M/lfon-NeUsxk/s1600-h/IMG_8986.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sm0C99KBs8I/AAAAAAAAG8M/lfon-NeUsxk/s320/IMG_8986.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362945994680021954" /></a><br />As we walked back through the woods to the car we marveled at the dramatic change we'd wrought in just a few hours. I agreed with Grace that it was a shame to close off such a beautiful section of trail, but I pointed out that people will still make their way around our little jumble of brush to have a quiet lunch off the trail. And besides, the new, improved trail looks fantastic!Hugh Yemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668946016239602558noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410357607277882916.post-28246475981677269192009-07-24T17:17:00.000-07:002010-02-23T18:03:44.414-08:00Letter to the Editor<i>This is the letter I'll be sending to all the local papers. I'm happy with it, although I think it may need some trimming before it sees print.</i><br /><br />When I was a kid I could walk along Fairview Avenue for a mile without seeing a car. I could wander through woods where my father took me to swing on vines, pastures where I knew tasty woodchucks were living, and farmer's fields where I learned that corn leaves could cut like knives. My father told me about tadpoles turning into frogs. There was transformation in nature, and that knowledge brought a new magic into my world.<br /><br />I can't go back to the frog pond where my father first showed me those tadpoles. I can't take you to the vines. The land is all posted. And when I walk with my five-year-old nephew along that same stretch of road that I first walked alone when I was his age, twenty cars race by before we can walk a mile. No one in their right mind would let him do it alone. The world has changed.<br /><br />Ever since my earliest wanderings I've loved secret places. Isolated forest glades carry a touch of the mystical, but it's those hidden spots that lie just steps off the beaten path that make me feel like I've entered another world. Last summer I found a doozy. It's called the Link Trail, and you could walk twenty feet from it and never know it was there. If you step inside, you may feel what I felt: some of that old magic returning.<br /><br />Maybe you're not as emotional as I am. Fine. But I defy you to see your enthusiasm reflected in the face of a five-year-old and describe the experience as anything but magic. And that magic is exactly what you get when you share nature with a child. So take the kid out onto the trail. If he likes construction, tell him about all the people and expertise and equipment that it took to build a trail over a ravine, or the long staircase near Canastota Creek. If she likes fantasy, show her the fairy dust sprinkled beneath the old log from countless larvae chewing into it. If you're religious, bring him to God's cathedral and read him Job 12:7-10. If you're into history, show him the patches of bloodroot and tell him about the Native Americans who used them for dyeing, and if you're a conservationist tell him why you're not allowed to pick them. If she's obsessed with death, show her the rabbit fur in the coyote droppings and the saplings growing on dead trunks--show her that you don't get death without rebirth.<br /><br />But whatever you do, unstick that kid from the glowing rectangle du jour and get him out onto the Link Trail. And remember, nothing you do for a child is ever wasted. Don't believe me? Take a look at www.CNYLinkTrail.blogspot.com. See the beauty I've seen. See the magic I've shared with my nephew.<br /><br />And get that kid out there.Hugh Yemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668946016239602558noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410357607277882916.post-18456561196888761572009-07-06T16:55:00.000-07:002010-02-23T18:04:28.129-08:00Work Hike Video<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0jMoHBe6g7g&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0jMoHBe6g7g&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br />It may take me a while to prepare my entry for the July 4th work hike; there was a lot of great strategy and leadership and hard work, not to mention fungus and flowers and arachnids and a beautiful little orange salamander. But for now, here's the video I took. It shows the results of about eighteen person-hours of work.Hugh Yemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668946016239602558noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410357607277882916.post-71642766261183705022009-07-04T04:50:00.001-07:002009-07-04T05:10:44.124-07:00Geocaching?<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sk9GJIRDERI/AAAAAAAAGLk/LWnDKLfrmRc/s1600-h/geocaching_question.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sk9GJIRDERI/AAAAAAAAGLk/LWnDKLfrmRc/s320/geocaching_question.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354575604618563858" /></a><br />I was talking to Al Larmann the other day, and he was telling me that most of the people who subscribe to the NCTA Newsletter are older folks. The more I thought about this the more it bugged me, because of all the great joys I get from the Link Trail, seeing my nephew embrace my enthusiasm for it is the greatest. I think that the Link Trail is a jewel that should be shared with young people most of all! So I started mulling over potential ways to attract younger people to the trail.<br /><br />The first idea I came up with was <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Geocaching target="_blank">geocaching</a>. Wikepedia has a good summary of what that is.<blockquote>Geocaching is an outdoor treasure-hunting game in which the participants use a Global Positioning System (GPS) receiver or other navigational techniques to hide and seek containers (called "geocaches" or "caches") anywhere in the world. A typical cache is a small waterproof container (usually a tupperware or ammo box) containing a logbook and "treasure," usually toys or trinkets of little value.<br /><br />Geocaches are currently placed in over 100 countries around the world and on all seven continents, including Antarctica.[1] There are over 820,000 active geocaches in the world right now.</blockquote>The idea of geocaching is simple enough. I have a good idea of how to do it. What I'd like help with is <i>what to put in the caches</i>. I mentor a young boy in New Jersey, and I know what he'd say: Bakugan cards! But New Jersy isn't Cazenovia. I don't know what young people around this particular area would most like to find in a geocache. So please, comment on this post with your ideas, or e-mail them to me. I'd like to start geocaching on the Link Trail soon.Hugh Yemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668946016239602558noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410357607277882916.post-20195007891865320922009-06-06T20:50:00.000-07:002009-06-23T05:29:06.094-07:00National Trails Day: Hike<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sj8EoSxX_yI/AAAAAAAAFUA/jPMHLH4Seh4/s1600-h/P1320146.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sj8EoSxX_yI/AAAAAAAAFUA/jPMHLH4Seh4/s320/P1320146.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349999972619648802" /></a><br /><i>For many more pictures, see the Picasa web <a href=http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/NationalTrailDayHikeJune62009# target="_blank">album</a> for this hike.</i><br /><br />Some people from the morning <a href=http://cnylinktrail.blogspot.com/2009/06/national-trails-day-canal-town-museum.html target="_blank">visit</a> to the Canal Town Museum gathered at the trailhead near the graveyard for a short hike. The trail was beautifully sun-dappled, and there was a new flower blooming around every turn. I lingered at each one, wondering if I should break out the camera yet, and began falling back before we'd even hit the reservoir trail.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sj8C6EhtNkI/AAAAAAAAFTs/alsE6Ue53y8/s1600-h/IMG_5615.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sj8C6EhtNkI/AAAAAAAAFTs/alsE6Ue53y8/s320/IMG_5615.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349998079010223682" /></a><br />I managed not to get too far behind - for about ten minutes. Then I saw a bug on a plant just north of the old reservoir, and it was all over. Later I used BugGuide to find out that this is a female <a href=http://bugguide.net/node/view/9217/bgpage target="_blank">Panorpa</a>. Judging from the <a href=http://www.biology.ualberta.ca/bsc/ejournal/cmw01/panwing.html target="_blank">Wing Guide of Ontario</a>, I'd say it's a <a href=http://bugguide.net/node/view/168718/bgpage target="_blank">Panorpa acuta</a>. It's definitely a female, because the <a href=http://bugguide.net/node/view/9217 target="_blank">information page</a> tells us that the males have an <a href=http://bugguide.net/node/view/26154/bgpage target="_blank">appendage</a> on the rear of the abdomen that looks frighteningly like a scorpion's stinger. They don't sting, though, so you can relax. I know I did.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SisVwObWotI/AAAAAAAAFHo/uDXyDl1O3Gw/s400/P1320100.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SisVwObWotI/AAAAAAAAFHo/uDXyDl1O3Gw/s400/P1320100.JPG" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />I caught up with the rest of the folks just as they were entering the woods. Then came the depressing part of the trail: the procession of broken birdhouses. It turns out that Kathy Disque had just put them up this spring, and as we passed through the woods to the tall staircase, we saw that they'd all been vandalized.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sj8EoETOy6I/AAAAAAAAFT4/c86DiIzc9us/s1600-h/P1320110.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sj8EoETOy6I/AAAAAAAAFT4/c86DiIzc9us/s320/P1320110.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349999968735120290" /></a><br />Looking at the sad bundle of birdhouse slats that Mary collected, I thought again of my old theory to explain why people seem hard-wired to engage in vandalism. I think that it's a manifestation of the <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Second_law_of_thermodynamics target="_blank">second law of thermodynamics</a>. In attempting to gain a reproductive advantage over its peers, an organism has two basic choices: work to build up its own resources, or work to destroy the resources of others. Since the <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Entropy target="_blank">entropy</a> of any system always increases, it's always far easier to reduce order than to increase it by the same amount; tearing something down is much easier than building it up. It seems clear to me that an evolutionary process could select for vandalism, enraging though the results may be. Thoughts like this help me cope.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SisfggzMRQI/AAAAAAAAFIk/I0udODWyuUc/s400/P1320141.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SisfggzMRQI/AAAAAAAAFIk/I0udODWyuUc/s400/P1320141.JPG" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />We crossed the big bridge over Canastota Creek and the little one over the tributary just upstream, climbed the slope to the old railroad bed, and gathered around while Al told us some of the history of the railroad. Then we turned back, stopping on the bridge for the shot at the top of the page.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sj8EouoT6VI/AAAAAAAAFUI/7oON6JVtSzc/s1600-h/IMG_5793.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 232px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sj8EouoT6VI/AAAAAAAAFUI/7oON6JVtSzc/s320/IMG_5793.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349999980097825106" /></a><br />While Mary, Kathy and others fished some garbage out of the creek, I noticed a <a href=http://bugguide.net/node/view/27423 target="_blank">spider</a> hanging from its web a few feet away. I took the opportunity to snap a few hundred shots as it devoured a fly it had caught. Later I referenced BugGuide and found that it was <a href=http://bugguide.net/node/view/27423 target="_blank">Mangora placida</a>, or tuftlegged orb weaver. There was something strange about this one, though, because orb weavers are, by definition, supposed to weave <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spider_web#Types_of_spider_web target="_blank">orb webs</a>. This one instead had a simple, thick, horizontal tangle web. It also had a bum leg, as you'll see if you look closely at shots in the Picasa web album. I wonder if that had anything to do with its aberrant, slipshod approach to web-building. Check out <a href=http://www.cirrusimage.com/spider_orbweaver_Mangora_placida.htm target="_blank">these gorgeous shots</a> of the same species.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sj8YqNWPnlI/AAAAAAAAFU8/QjJTYK23HVM/s1600-h/P1320150.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sj8YqNWPnlI/AAAAAAAAFU8/QjJTYK23HVM/s320/P1320150.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350021995755970130" /></a><br />At the top of the stairs Mary paused to see if anything could be done for the bench, also recently vandalized. Apparently not.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sj8aAaBkZrI/AAAAAAAAFVg/G60aK1UdJXE/s1600-h/P1320180.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sj8aAaBkZrI/AAAAAAAAFVg/G60aK1UdJXE/s320/P1320180.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350023476627662514" /></a><br />Between the stairs and the trail I got some shots of a <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oxalis_stricta target="_blank">yellow wood-sorrel</a>, but unfortunately my shots don't show the angle of the seed pod stalks, which would tell me what species it was.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sj8YqXCnYLI/AAAAAAAAFVE/XIgpa4TXAIs/s1600-h/P1320164.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sj8YqXCnYLI/AAAAAAAAFVE/XIgpa4TXAIs/s320/P1320164.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350021998357995698" /></a><br />On the way out of the woods I snapped some shots of <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Herb_Robert target="_blank">herb robert</a>, a constant - one might say unavoidable - companion in these parts.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sj8EozQDRJI/AAAAAAAAFUQ/T5T0gi4Ddcs/s1600-h/IMG_5864.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sj8EozQDRJI/AAAAAAAAFUQ/T5T0gi4Ddcs/s320/IMG_5864.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349999981338248338" /></a><br />We passed back out of the woods and along the path over the old reservoir, and as I reentered the woods northwest of the cemetery I made a point to get some shots of the delightful<a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sisyrinchium target="_blank"> blue-eyed grass</a> I'd seen on the way in. They're not what you'd call rare, but they're also not something I see every day, and that little blast of saturated blue with a brilliant yellow center always makes me smile.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sj8YqlhoXPI/AAAAAAAAFVM/mZqJPwBTGuE/s1600-h/P1320224.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sj8YqlhoXPI/AAAAAAAAFVM/mZqJPwBTGuE/s320/P1320224.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350022002246180082" /></a><br />Nearing the end of the trail, we passed through a plentiful copse of <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hesperis_matronalis target="_blank">dame's rocket</a>, an old favorite of mine from back when I was traipsing up and down Fairview Avenue with my Peterson's Guide to Wildflowers.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sj8YqvYJkLI/AAAAAAAAFVU/94mq9eMqg8A/s1600-h/P1320242.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sj8YqvYJkLI/AAAAAAAAFVU/94mq9eMqg8A/s320/P1320242.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350022004890767538" /></a><br />I certainly couldn't end the hike without grabbing some shots of the first burst of color I'd seen that day: some <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Forget-me-not target="_blank">forget-me-nots</a> growing in the stream just a few feet from the trailhead.Hugh Yemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668946016239602558noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410357607277882916.post-61822196276841072092009-06-06T20:00:00.000-07:002009-06-21T20:34:21.508-07:00National Trails Day: Canal Town Museum<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Siq_d9vxZbI/AAAAAAAAFGg/-RPKq7T1nzc/s400/P1320063.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Siq_d9vxZbI/AAAAAAAAFGg/-RPKq7T1nzc/s400/P1320063.JPG" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><i>For more pictures from the museum, see the Picasa web <a href=http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/CanalMuseumInCanastotaJune62009# target="_blank">album</a> for this visit.</i><br /><br />Among the people gathering in the office next door to the <a href=http://www.canastota.com/organization.asp?key=43 target="_blank">Canastota Canal Town Museum</a> were a bunch of Link Trail folks. We watched a video presentation about the museum, and then went next door for a tour. I got talking to Mary and Kathy about Link Trail stuff, so I fell behind the main group before it got past the first room.<br /><br />When I walked into the second room I got that pleasant shock of making an unexpected connection. The air vent on the front of the old wood stove shown above had lost its cover, and I immediately realized that the <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ionizing_radiation target="_blank">radiation hazard symbol</a> came from that shape.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SirB9bxCPWI/AAAAAAAAFGs/gMrQhgf2W34/s400/P1320070.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SirB9bxCPWI/AAAAAAAAFGs/gMrQhgf2W34/s400/P1320070.JPG" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />I got a big kick out of the assortment of Weed Tire Chains advertisements from the early 1900s. They used hard-sell FUD (fear, uncertainty and doubt) techniques; it looks like they sold their product by scaring the heck out of people.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SirLYGpbwAI/AAAAAAAAFHY/kocxVsFQ1sI/s400/P1320084.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SirLYGpbwAI/AAAAAAAAFHY/kocxVsFQ1sI/s400/P1320084.JPG" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />As I passed on, down the stairs into the basement level, through into the next room, back up the stairs, and on through the rest of the upstairs rooms, I became more and more impressed. This little museum packs a lot of New York State's history into a very small space. I regret not going in before, and plan to come back. On the way out, I spent the $10 for a yearly membership.Hugh Yemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668946016239602558noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410357607277882916.post-53041064160563195642009-05-26T21:07:00.000-07:002009-06-20T13:13:30.663-07:00Urti-WHO now???<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sjg-6J9zstI/AAAAAAAAFRM/JfuNt8oYVOA/s1600-h/IMG_3390.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/Sjg-6J9zstI/AAAAAAAAFRM/JfuNt8oYVOA/s320/IMG_3390.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348093726330958546" /></a><br /><i>The following incident did not take place on the Link Trail, but rather a few miles away in Oneida. It is relevant to this journal because your child may encounter a cocoon from the same species of caterpillar on the trail.</i><br /><br />Grace and I babysat Dylan and Abby for a few hours while their parents went out to celebrate their anniversary. While the kids played on the lawn I spent some time snapping pictures of spiders. In order to steady my hand, I grabbed a block of wood to prop up my arm. There happened to be a cocoon on this block of wood, and Dylan noticed it. The kids poked at it, which I though harmless enough. Little did I know what perils awaited our young charges. (CUE DRAMATIC MUSIC)<br /><br />Well before his parents got back, Dylan was complaining about discomfort in his hand. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but he asked me to take a picture of his thumb soon after he touched the cocoon. I had forgotten all about this until weeks later, when I was going through my pictures from that day. There was a series of shots of the hairs embedded in his thumb - hairs I didn't even know were there when I took the shots!<br /><br />Grace took a close look and noticed tiny hairs sticking out of both of the children's fingers and palms. I was shocked. The only time I'd heard of something like this was when, visiting Arizona in 2003, I was warned about the hairs of the <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Teddy_bear_cholla target="_blank">teddy bear cholla</a>. But I had no idea that hairs from a soft-looking cocoon could get stuck in the skin! I remembered that the best way to remove teddy bear cholla hairs is to apply Elmer's glue or duct tape and then peel it off, so I went and found some tape.<br /><br />Thankfully the hairs from the cocoon don't burn like those from the teddy bear cholla; they seemed to cause the kids considerable itching, but not what you'd call pain. So they were patient and relatively fidget-free while we pressed the tape onto their little piggies again and again. It took a long time, but eventually we got most if not all of them out.<br /><br />I thought that was the end of it, but no such luck. Two days later I was back at the office and I got a call from my sister. Dylan's hand had gotten worse! The discomfort had increased, and there were little red bumps on his hand. I called Madison County Cooperative Extension and posted a <a href=http://bugguide.net/node/view/279995 target="_blank">request</a> for expertise on the BugGuide forum. Then I did a whole lot of furious Googling.<br /><br />Among other things, I found <a href=http://www.arachnoboards.com/ab/showthread.php?t=13129 target="_blank">this thread</a> on Arachnoboards.com, in which the general consensus was that no one quite knows whether the hairs cause irritation via purely mechanical means, or whether they contain a poison like the <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Urushiol target="_blank">urushiol</a> in <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poison_ivy target="_blank">poison ivy</a>. I think that was where I first saw the term "<a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Urticating_hairs target="_blank">urticating hairs</a>". It seems that tarantulas and some caterpillars have them, and that the cocoons of those caterpillars retain the hairs!<br /><br />I called my sister back, conveying to her the general sense I got from skimming a number of sources: an injection may not do anything, so don't let the doctor stick the kid unless he can show you a good reason to do so. The best thing to do in these cases is to apply a topical steroid, which is exactly what the doctor ended up prescribing.<br /><br />I spoke to my sister a few days later, and Dylan's hand was fine. The strange thing was that Dylan suffered much more than Abby, despite the fact that she got more hairs in her hand than he did. This might be because Dylan had been exposed to something similar before. If you read the Arachnoboards.com thread, you'll learn that the poison in urticating hairs effects people like the urushiol in poison ivy: most folks show no reaction the first time they're exposed, a moderate reaction the second time, and so on.<br /><br />The irritation comes at least in part from the mechanical properties of the hairs, but it seems likely that the allergic reaction comes from a poison. This morning, nearly a month later, I read an article* about a moth with poisoned urticating hairs that I printed out from <a href=http://www.jstor.org target="_blank">JSTOR</a>**. It seemed to show conclusively that, although the initial skin reaction is due to the hairs' mechanical properties, there is a separate allergic reaction caused by poison. <br /><br />OOH OOH!! I just went to Google the article so that I could see if it was available outside JSTOR, and look what I found: "<a href=http://www.nature.com/jid/journal/v34/n1/abs/jid196011a.html target="_blank">Investigative Studies of Skin Irritations From Caterpillars</a>"***. Note that you can download the entire <a href=http://www.nature.com/jid/journal/v34/n1/pdf/jid196011a.pdf target="_blank">.pdf file</a>!<br /><br />...pauses to read the article...<br /><br />Interesting! And by "interesting", I mean the fraction that was not so densely technical that I had no clue what the authors were going on about. Here's a summary of the germane bits.<blockquote>In clinical practice, skin exposure has been usually accidental in the woods or in the forest. In the home, caterpillars or cocoons or moths may get into sheets, pillows, etc. and irritate the skin even after prolonged periods of drying of the arthropod. In one area of Texas, according to Bishopp (8), schools had to close until the larva were under control. Katzenellenbogen (22), has described caterpillar dermatitis as an occupational disease in plantation workers. Ziprkowski, Hofshi and Tahori (23) report 600 cases of caterpillar dermatitis among 3000 soldiers encamped in a pine grove. Occasionally the irritant material may be even dustborne. The airborne factor is more important in the development of the irritation from the hairs of moths. "Yellow tail moth dermatitis" is well known among merchant marine personnel who use ports of Central and South America (24, 25, 26). Also well known among the troops in Korea is the papular dermatitis from the "Yellow Korean Moth".<br /><br />...<br /><br />When setae were immersed in water, saline alcohol, etc., and dried out, although they were very brittle, the insertion of these into the skin did not produce any reactions. It was not possible on microscopic section to see a definite foreign body reaction around the inserted setae. Therefore,the seta itself produced no significant foreign body reactions. However, setae removed freshly from the caterpillar or left by the caterpillar were found to contain the irritant material. This is again additional proof for the basic idea that the setae, themselves, in spite of their barbed appearance serve merely as a tube to carry the irritant substance.<br /><br />...<br /><br />Although the caterpillar has been studied for some time, the exact nature of its irritant principle is still not known definitely. Its polypeptide nature is suspected; 5-hydroxytryptamine may be present. We, however, could not find this important material in our extracts. The poison glands of the caterpillar appear similar to the salivary glands of the other arthropods of dermatologic interest. The skin reactions vary according to the sensitivity of the individual. ...</blockquote>So, in summary: lots of live or caterpillars or their cocoons or even their remains can cause skin reactions of varying severity. The immediate reactions may be caused to a greater or lesser degree by the mechanical properties of the urticating hairs, but the more serious, and the more long-term, reactions are due to a toxin of unknown nature. So don't go nuzzling any caterpillars.<br /><br /><i>*The Poison and Poison Apparatus of the White-Marked Tussock Moth Hemerocampa leucostigma Smith and Abbot<br />Paul M. Gilmer</i><br />The Journal of Parasitology<i>, Vol. 10, No. 2 (Dec., 1923), pp. 80-86<br /><br />**Helping put Grace through the School of Physical Therapy at Columbia has its perks, foremost among which is that I get access, through her, to pretty much any research article I want. JSTOR, an online library of many research periodicals, is the best of the sources.<br /><br />***Investigative Studies of Skin Irritations From Caterpillars<br />Leon Goldman, M.D., Faye Sawyer, Ann Levine, John Goldman, Steven Goldman and Joan Spinianger, B.S.<br />Presented at the Twentieth Annual Meeting of The Society for Investigative Dermatology, Inc., Atlantic City, N. J., June 7, 1959.</i>Hugh Yemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668946016239602558noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8410357607277882916.post-81299971523286539382009-05-03T17:30:00.000-07:002009-06-18T18:36:20.655-07:00Look at the big spider!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SjWG7uh9h2I/AAAAAAAAFP0/iXH_HItdWvc/s1600-h/IMG_1349.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SjWG7uh9h2I/AAAAAAAAFP0/iXH_HItdWvc/s320/IMG_1349.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347328493233211234" /></a><br /><i>For many more pictures from this hike, see the <a href=http://picasaweb.google.com/HughYeman/LinkTrailHikeWithDylanMay32009# target="_blank">Picasa Web album</a>.</i><br /><br />I had promised Dylan that I’d take him on a hike this weekend, so it was the highest-priority item on my list of things to do before I left town on Sunday. I had been wanting to fill in my trail maps with pictures from the Canastota end, but Dylan’s mom had said that he wanted to go to back the quarry. So I engaged in a bit of subversive redirection. I asked him if he remembered the bridge over the stream where we threw sticks in and watched them float downstream, and asked him if he wanted to go back there. Thankfully he was excited about that prospect.<br /><br />Either Dylan remembered me rubbing alcohol on his legs after last summer’s hike through a section with lots of <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poison_ivy target="_blank">poison ivy</a>, or his mother reminded him to avoid it, because on the trail through the woods near the cemetery he kept pointing to plants and asking me “Is that poison ivy?” I assured him that I’d tell him if I saw any.<br /><br />After passing under the tree trunk growing horizontally over the trail near the cemetery, Dylan turned around and watched me make my way under it. Laughing, he pointed out how he didn't even have to duck his head. Oh, kid, it’s not lost on me. The years are flying by so fast that I fear you’ll double in size if I blink once, and lose all interest in what I have to share with you if I blink twice. So believe me, I’m savoring the moment.<br /><br />Before reaching the path back to the old reservoir we saw the first white <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trillium target="_blank">trillium</a> of the day, and the first of several cute and colorful birdhouses that someone put up since last fall. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SjWS34k6IPI/AAAAAAAAFQc/r9ZMCiXEjiQ/s1600-h/IMG_1531.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SjWS34k6IPI/AAAAAAAAFQc/r9ZMCiXEjiQ/s320/IMG_1531.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347341621349982450" /></a><br />On the path we enjoyed seeing the <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Viola_(plant) target="_blank">violets</a> that were popping up everywhere. I pointed out the massive <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poplar target="_blank">poplars</a> to the left of the trail and, when Dylan asked what the concrete structure was, told him that it used to be a reservoir. That, of course, led to the question “What’s a reservoir?” I love it when kids ask questions. As we mounted the staircase he asked about the notches in the log steps, so I explained about traction.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SjWI0QyvjmI/AAAAAAAAFP8/9t_AhPoZy4o/s1600-h/IMG_1315.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SjWI0QyvjmI/AAAAAAAAFP8/9t_AhPoZy4o/s320/IMG_1315.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347330564014706274" /></a><br />As soon as we reentered the woods I encountered an excellent photo opportunity: a beetle on a <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trout_lily target="_blank">trout lily</a> blossom. Unfortunately my holding still and snapping shots also represented an opportunity for insects to land on me and start sucking my blood. <br /><br />We continued on through scads of <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mayapple target="_blank">mayapples</a> and white, pink and black trillium. There were also a lot of what I think was <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/False_soloman%27s_seal target="_blank">false Solomon's seal</a>, but I didn't think to get any shots of it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SjWPftJQVgI/AAAAAAAAFQM/kvQzbbryEMw/s1600-h/IMG_1516.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SjWPftJQVgI/AAAAAAAAFQM/kvQzbbryEMw/s320/IMG_1516.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347337907429463554" /></a><br />I also started to notice a curious plant within the leaf litter: shiny pale stems that seemed to have sprouted from the earth and plunged right back in again. later, after I got home and talked to Grace about it, she indicated that these sprouts are quite common. They must be one of those things that I never noticed before, but I'm sure my eye will catch them from now on.<br /><br />We descended the staircase amid a slope sprinkled liberally with trillium. As we walked along the path of 4x4s that skirt the stream, Dylan asked why the crosswise slats were there. As I got some more shots of trillium I explained again about the importance of traction on otherwise slippery wood.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SjWLkR4n7EI/AAAAAAAAFQE/UffodhpYN0g/s1600-h/IMG_1389.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SjWLkR4n7EI/AAAAAAAAFQE/UffodhpYN0g/s320/IMG_1389.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347333587964783682" /></a><br />Just as we reached the bridge, Dylan said “Look at the big spider” and I said “Where?!” He pointed, and there was a large brownish grey spider clinging to the Canastota Creek sign on the side of the bridge! While Dylan threw sticks into the stream I got a few hundred shots of this beautiful specimen*. See the “boxing gloves”? Those are pedipalps, and the fact that they’re swollen means that it’s a male. Believe it or not, they’re copulatory organs. Check <a href=http://psyche.entclub.org/70/70-197.html target="_blank">this</a> out.**<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SixcN3L3QhI/AAAAAAAAFKE/yqnb17q02SE/s400/P1310891.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SixcN3L3QhI/AAAAAAAAFKE/yqnb17q02SE/s400/P1310891.JPG" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />At some point while Dylan was playing around on the bridge and gathering sticks to throw in the water, he got a sliver in his finger. He was rather distressed but agreed to let me dig it out. I thought of my knife, but then remembered the teardrop corsage pins I'd put in my camera case as size reference for photographs. Their first use turned out to have nothing to do with photography. I poked and teased at the sliver as Dylan's distress intensified, manifesting itself as a high keening noise. I have to give him credit, though: he endured it with minimal squirming. Eventually I got it out, and the keening subsided.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SjWUVmSbngI/AAAAAAAAFQs/DJ1tbb7m9WI/s1600-h/IMG_1476.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SjWUVmSbngI/AAAAAAAAFQs/DJ1tbb7m9WI/s320/IMG_1476.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347343231348350466" /></a><br />We headed back through the ravine and up the stairs amid the blanket of gentle green sprinkled liberally with white and pink trillium blossoms. Dylan did a bit of tree-climbing while I snapped shots of violets.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SjWSf3KDvbI/AAAAAAAAFQU/2IjcBJUoevI/s1600-h/IMG_1577.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SjWSf3KDvbI/AAAAAAAAFQU/2IjcBJUoevI/s320/IMG_1577.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347341208652070322" /></a><br />The sun came out and I got some very satisfying shots of shiny young poison ivy. I showed Dylan how the leaves grow in clusters of three, and told him that the waxy shine comes from the oils that rub off on your skin and give you rashes and blisters. I believe I took the opportunity to drill into him the old mnemonic "leaves of three, let it be". I also reminded him that Virginia creeper is shiny but not poisonous, and that older poison ivy leaves are not very shiny but they are still poisonous. The point is that poison ivy is best identified by its clusters of three leaves.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SjWYwr4KQCI/AAAAAAAAFQ8/2ed7-DbmFmU/s1600-h/IMG_1564.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SjWYwr4KQCI/AAAAAAAAFQ8/2ed7-DbmFmU/s320/IMG_1564.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347348094751752226" /></a><br />One of the joys of macro photography is getting the pictures home and seeing things that you had no idea were there when you shot them. And in my experience, spider webs are number one in that category of retrospective joys. Those little suckers are spinning their webs <i>everyhwere</i>, and this is never more apparent than when I examine shots that I <i>thought</i> were just of plants and insects. Click on the photo above and look at the top. See the web leading down to the <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cardamine_diphylla target="_blank">broadleaf toothwort</a> next to the poison ivy?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SjWYwQu5oDI/AAAAAAAAFQ0/DdH2ArUNmjQ/s1600-h/IMG_1587.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SjWYwQu5oDI/AAAAAAAAFQ0/DdH2ArUNmjQ/s320/IMG_1587.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347348087465156658" /></a><br />Likewise, I never saw the webs strung between these two poison ivy plants (look on the left)...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SjWUGOcAh8I/AAAAAAAAFQk/GOZwpyekKE0/s1600-h/IMG_1643.JPG"><img style="block:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Z8AMmuvjrGg/SjWUGOcAh8I/AAAAAAAAFQk/GOZwpyekKE0/s320/IMG_1643.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347342967248029634" /></a><br />... or the delicate strands on this <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Garlic_Mustard target="_blank">garlic mustard</a> plant.<br /><i><br />*I looked up the spider later and found out that it belongs to the genus <a href=http://bugguide.net/node/view/1985/bgpage target="_blank">Dolomedes</a>, also known as fishing spiders. I had no idea that fishing spiders were so <a href=http://bugguide.net/node/view/1985/data target="_blank">widespread</a>! I believe this one to be a <a href=http://bugguide.net/node/view/38828/bgpage target="_blank">Dolomedes scriptus</a>.<br /><br />**If you're really interested in the subject of spider mating, find a copy of the following article.</i><br /><br /><blockquote>Studies on the Habits of Spiders, Particularly Those of the Mating Period<br />by Montgomery, T. H., Jr.<br />Proceedings of the Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia, Vol. 55 (1903), pp. 59- 149 <br />Published by: Academy of Natural Sciences</blockquote>Hugh Yemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668946016239602558noreply@blogger.com0