Category Archives: Adventure

Beyond the Overlook

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Continuing our hike from Signal Point to Edward Point, Tisen and I made our way along the steep slope of the gully.

I guess it’s a gully.  I’m not really clear on when a gully becomes a canyon or if there’s some other name for a horse-shoe-shaped space in the side of a mountain, but essentially, we were going to hike in nearly an ellipse, but we were going to end up on a point on the opposite cliff from where we started.

The trail starts high, goes mostly downhill to the midpoint and then climbs again to Edward Point overlook on the far side.  It requires stepping over, on, or around many rocks in the process.  We clambered our way up the trail, keeping a pretty good pace going.  I eyed the poison ivy growing along the trail with disdain–I knew it meant Tisen and I were going to be taking very thorough baths that night.

When we got about another 1/2 mile down the trail, we ran into an impasse.  This happens quite frequently on trails.  A tree has fallen across the trail that can’t be gone over, so you have to go around.  Usually, this might mean walking a 1/10 of a mile out of the way to skirt the fallen tree.  In this case, there were dozens of trees that had fallen.  It was a terrible scene of destruction that made me sad.  On the other hand, with as many bad storms as have rolled through this area in recent years, it’s pretty amazing that that’s all the damage that’s been done.

But there were piles of fallen trees.  And we we tried to go around, we ran into only more fallen trees.  We went around and went around some more, trying to find a route through all the crap that fell with the trees.  Eventually, we did make it.

Of course, in the process, I lost the trail.  We ended up bush-whacking our way back to the trail, arriving slightly scratched and a little more tired than we would have otherwise.

When we finally found the main trail again, we hadn’t gone more than 10 feet hen we saw a junction with a trail that came from the same direction we had just come from.  It was clearly blazed as the main trail and it looked like it would have missed all of the fallen trees.  I kicked myself and wondered how I had missed that option when we took the high trail to hell.

But, back to relatively clear sailing, we continued on our way, making it to the point where we’d turned around the first time we tried to hike this trail and pushing beyond.  Less than a 1/4 mile past our previous turn-around point, we ran into a stream.  Tisen made quick work of laying down in the water to cool off.  I thought about joining him, but there wasn’t a puddle big enough.

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Re-Hike

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Sunday has become unofficial hiking day.  Of late, I seem to have fallen into a new routine.  Saturday, I recover from the previous 5 days of hiking, biking, rowing, and yoga.  I do this mostly by laying on the couch with the occasional interruption of taking Tisen for walks.

But Sunday, Sunday I hike.  And this past Sunday, Pat needed to work, so it was the perfect opportunity to make my second attempt at Edward Point.  This time, Tisen and I would start at 10:30 in the morning instead of 4:30 in the evening.  We were mentally prepared for a rather challenging 6 mile hike, up and down Signal Mountain, scrambling over rocks.

This was our fourth trip to the Signal Point overlook.  It’s an easy walk down a paved trail from the parking lot.  We spent 20 minutes covering the 100 yards from the parking lot to the overlook–there were lots of places to sniff.

But the overlook is it for the suburban park setting.  After stopping for a couple of quick shots, we headed to the Cumberland Trail.  Even with its manmade steps, it’s not an easy trail.  Many people make it the first half mile to a “natural” overlook point over the gully that our trail would wind its way around.  But it involves clamoring down steep and big steps, jumping onto rocks, and stepping carefully.  Tisen did an amazing job navigating all the obstacles.

Every time we go on a hike that starts out with an accessible view, I notice the drop off in population as you get further from the parking lot.  We were still on the most traveled part of the trail, but already we were down to only 2 other people who we didn’t see until we made it to the overlook point.

Before we’d rounded the first blind turn, a Pileated Woodpecker called from so close to where we were standing that I was sure I would look up and see it clinging to a tree.  As I searched for the shape of this giant woodpecker, it called again, sounding slightly further away.  I searched frantically, watching for shadows against the dark forest floor.  When it called a third time, the Doppler effect kicked in–I could hear it moving away from us as it called.  I was bummed.  I haven’t seen a Pileated Woodpecker in quite a while–I would have loved to have gotten a shot of it.

We continued our hike possibly in greater safety now that the woodpecker was gone–I have a tendency to forget I’m walking on the edge of a cliff when I’m searching for a bird.

When we stopped at the first natural overlook, Tisen was already panting hard.  I got out his portable water bowl and tried to coax him into drinking water.  Tisen stuck his elbow in the collapsible water bowl and stared at me, pink tongue lolling from his black-and-white mouth.

Indulgence

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On our last full day in Vermont, after lunch, we decided to take a field trip.  We went to the famous gift shop of a hotel a few miles down the road.  This required making some arrangements.

For starters, we didn’t have a car.  We also didn’t want to walk, having already hiked that morning.  Fortunately for us, the owner was willing to come pick us up and drive us to her shop.

I am not a big fan of shopping.  But, I really wasn’t feeling up to trying Zoomba for the second time (definitely not an exercise for me) and we could get back in plenty of time for yoga class.  Plus, I thought I might find a gift for Tisen.

I was right.  I found an adorable moose to add to Tisen’s collection of “babies.”  I also found a book of guitars for Pat.  And a book of top 10 lists of places to go for Pat and I to share and fantasize about.

And then, I found the most dangerous thing of all.  It was a bag of maple syrup jelly beans.  This was not a wise purchase given that I was at a weight-loss spa, getting tons of exercise, and eating extremely healthy foods.  There is nothing that triggers a binge for me more than pure sugar in convenient handfuls.

When I got done paying for my items, I opened the bag of jelly beans and poured the first handful before I even put my wallet away.  By the time my friend got up to the counter to pay for her stuff (it was at least 10 minutes later, I swear), nearly a quarter of the bag had mysteriously disappeared.

As it turned out, it was the last bag of jelly beans and my friend had wanted to buy them as a gift for her son.  Had I not torn into them already, I would have given them to her.  As it was, she couldn’t really take him a half eaten bag of jelly beans.

Back at the “spa,” I opted to take a nap before yoga versus going to the strength class.  Funny how a person can eat jelly beans while taking a nap.  The darn things just disappeared and I was left in a sugar coma, having polished off 8 oz of maple syrup jelly beans in about 2 hours.

I do not do well feeling like I’m being deprived of anything.  When I get in a situation where I feel like I’m not “allowed” to have something, I start craving it.  When I get any kind of candy, I eat it until it’s gone like I’m afraid someone will steal it from me.  It’s not good.  I’ve been combating this problem by having a few small pieces of dark chocolate everyday.  It’s good for me and it’s so strong, I can’t eat a lot of it.  I guess I should have brought some along with me to the spa.

Being Moderate

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At the New Life Hiking Spa, everyone gathers outside the front door and the staff announces the hikes each morning.  They’re categorized into “Nature Walk,” “intermediate,” and “Advanced.”  The Nature Walk being mostly flat, a non-challenging surface to walk on (like a gravel road), and only about 4 miles or so in distance.  The Intermediate walks have more ups and downs, and may require a little scrambling over rocks.  The Advanced hikes are more vertical and are on “unimproved” trails.

While I might have opted for the Advanced or Intermediate hikes, I was there more for the company of my friend and less for the physical challenge, so I was more than happy to do the nature walk.  Plus, I wanted to shoot and I figured I’d have more opportunities on the nature walk than on an advanced hike.

This happened to be the day for the most difficult Nature Walk of the week.  It had a long, slow climb in the middle of it.  This worked to my advantage.  I got to take my time shooting because the group wasn’t moving as fast as they would have been on a flat trail.  I had time to shoot and then run to catch up to my friend.

This was even more perfect than I realized at first.  I got a great workout by running hard to catch up (when I say running hard, I mean any attempt to run on my part is hard–I don’t run fast or far or at all if I can help it).  We would walk along together chatting until the next photogenic subject appeared.

I would have hated being on an advanced hike and feeling like I was holding other people up every time I stopped for a shot.

Plus, the road we walked was lovely.  We were afforded many views of the mountains and lots of pretty open fields full of wildflowers.  The only slightly traumatic part was the graveyard near the beginning of the walk.  We had to wonder what kind of message they were sending us by not only walking us past the graveyard on the way out, but stopping there for our snack break on the way back.  I loved it for the photographic opportunities it provided, but it’s a little odd to snack amongst the dead.

We extended the hike by going past the trailhead to another trail that led up a hill to a lovely view of the valley below and mountains in the distance.  One of our fellow hikers was starting to worry us with his heavy breathing, profuse sweating, and red face.  It was hard to believe the hike was that much of a workout for anyone, but it was a pretty good uphill, I guess.  We were concerned he had heat stroke.  In the end, he, along with the rest of us, did survive and we left no one in the graveyard.

Bright Spot

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After getting settled in and oriented on my recent adventure at a “hiking spa” in Vermont, my friend and I got ourselves together in time for the evening yoga class.  The yoga instructor was well-trained and seemed to know what she was doing.  She reminded me of my first yoga instructor in Columbus with a voice that combined happy with soothing.

Things were looking up.

We made it to dinner and things looked up indeed.  The dinner was really delicious.  There were two choices and I got the combo because I couldn’t pick between the two.  The portions were not as generous as I might have liked, but I consoled myself with the thought that it really wouldn’t be bad if I dropped a couple of pounds.

What was really exciting was the number of repeat customers.  All participants in the hiking spa sat at 4 large tables, so we got to talk to others who’d been there before and/or had been there for several days.  We got the low-down on the place and what to expect.

If the spa director is smart, he will start offering these repeat customers some sort of discount–they are his best advertisers.  One woman at our table was on her 10th visit to the hiking spa.  She is the one who told us it was more shabby than chic.  Her honesty made her more credible and her enthusiasm for the program made us more excited to be there.  She knew everything from the menu for each day to the hikes that would be scheduled.  I really think they should have hired her to do the orientations for new arrivals–we would have felt much more welcome and better informed.

In general, the people we spoke with at our table made us feel like we were joining a fun club with lots of cool people.  They were from all over the place–some from as far as London.  There was a doctor, a spa owner, a retail business owner, and a chemist who held several patents among the many different career choices represented.

The next morning, we got up early to attend the 7AM stretching class before breakfast.  When we walked out to the semi-permanent outdoor tent setup exclusively for the hiking spa fitness classes, the sun was barely visible through dense fog.  It was hard to tell it was nearly 7AM through the gloom of the fog.  The glow of the sun peeping through the thick fog made me happy I’d decided to bring my camera with me.

I would have preferred a short yoga class instead of  a boot-camp style stretching class first thing in the morning, but it was still nice to get unkinked before breakfast.  I just prefer to have calming music and be in a meditative state of mind over having a big, hairy guy leading us through marching in place and elementary-school-style stretches.  But, it definitely got us ready for breakfast.

 

Unguided Tour

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After arriving at the hiking spa in Vermont, I worked on getting settled into my room while waiting for the spa director to call for our tour and orientation.  They’d given us some paperwork to sign when we checked in.  I was more than a little shocked when I realized one of the things I was supposed to sign was acknowledging that I was going to be on a restricted calorie diet.

I somehow missed that there was going to be a limit on calories.

Under “special dietary needs,” I made sure I put that I needed at least 1800 calories a day if I was going to be hiking and working out, worried that this was some kind of crazy starvation diet.  Then, I stared at the phone.

There is nothing I hate more than waiting for a phone call.  It’s been so long since I’ve even had that experience that I’d forgotten how annoying it is.

I tried to find things to do.  After taking photos of the room, I opened a bar of soap and washing my hands.  No call.  Then, I moved to unpacking.  I hung things up in the closet.  I placed folded things into drawers.  I got out my toiletries and lined them up on the bathroom sink.  Still no call.

I called the front desk.  The front desk guy said he would call the spa director again.  We waited another 5 minutes and then we took off.

We wandered down the hall and found some stairs.  We were deposited in an outdoor courtyard.  We walked around, discovering the golf course that abutted the hotel lawn.

The indoor pool looked a little suspect and the hot tub that was supposed to seat 10 looked like it would only be comfortable for 4 people who knew each other well.

We wandered around discovering the features of the hotel and eventually found the front desk.  When the guy at the front desk saw us, he rolled his eyes as he asked if we still hadn’t been called.  I smiled and explained that we got bored and left.  The front desk guy called the spa director and told him we were in the lobby.

The spa director found us and took us on a repeat tour, showing us far less than what we saw on our own.  His idea of showing us something seemed to be waving his hand in the general direction while we were standing in the hall.

I can’t say that I understood any of the positive reviews of the spa or the staff by the time we’d completed our orientation.  He hadn’t asked us a single question about why we were there or what we were hoping to accomplish and he had rapid-fired information at us.

I chose to simply be amused by this adventure.  After all, we were there, it was beautiful outside, and we were only staying for 3 nights.  I could think of no reason to complain.

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More Shabby than Chic

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The word “spa” is an evocative word that conjures images of crystalline pools with gurgling waterfalls and people passing by serenely in bath robes, faces covered in green mud, on their way to their next massage.

Since the spa in question was called a “hiking spa” and the hotel was described as a “country inn,” I figured I wasn’t going to get a scene out Sex and the City.  I was, however, somewhat startled by the condition of the hotel, which another guest later described aptly as “more shabby than chic.”  She also called the program a “hiking camp for adults.”

When we walked into the lobby, I was still smiling from having had such an enjoyable ride to the inn via Gramps shuttle service.  The dark and tired looking lobby was not enough to deter my enthusiasm.  What did give me pause was the guy at the front desk who wasn’t the most welcoming character.

Having read reviews on the website where people said the staff seemed like friends, I expected a more enthusiastic greeting.

Everything about the lobby was dingy.  Even the light bulbs seemed dingy, casting a sort of gloom over what should have been a very nice, lodge-like space.  It’s never good when the hotel lobby looks bad.  If the hotel isn’t investing in keeping the first impression good, it’s guaranteed they’re not investing in the rest of the property.

As we navigated the dim halls lined with stained carpet, a putrid colored light flashed around a corner.  When we turned a corner, we were thankful we didn’t have epilepsy because we both would have had seizures instantly.

It was just a fluorescent bulb gone bad in the little room with the ice machine, but it made me think of Joe vs the Volcano and the horrifying office he worked in.  It was the kind of thing you expect to see in a horror film right before an axe murderer jumps out from behind the innocent victim staring into the light.

All of this actually turned out to be a good thing.  I was mentally prepared for a room that made me wish I’d brought my own sheets.  By the time I opened the room door, my expectations were so lowered, I was pleasantly surprised by the homey looking quilt (although it did have a few tears) and the large space.

In spite of the poor lighting and my lack of a tripod, I had to take a few shots. ISO 1600 made that possible.  I’m astounded by the second and third photo.  02 is straight out of the camera while 03 is the same image post-processed using only basic adjustments in Aperture.  I’m impressed by the recovery of detail in the fan and window, which were over-exposed in the previous image.  It amazes me what my camera will record.  I’m also impressed by the lack of graininess in the photo.  With my old camera, I’d start to see grain at ISO 400.

Drive-by Shooting

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Sometimes, I ignore what I’ve learned and regress to just snapping pictures.  They say the definition of insanity is repeating the same actions and expecting different results.  I’m not insane.  I just sometimes decide the awful results I know I’ll get are OK.

Sometimes, I just want to take snap shots.

That said, there is something fundamentally wrong about pulling out a Canon 5D Mark III with a 24-17mm f/2.8 lens on it and shooting from the passenger side of a shuttle van through the windows while moving at speeds up to 55 MPH.  I believe it violates the 11th commandment:  Thou Shalt Not Waste a Really Great Camera by Using it Poorly!

It’s times like these I wish I had one of those little compact point-and-shoots that you can pull out of your pocket and look like a typical tourist.

On the flip side, I hauled 17 pounds of photography equipment with me through 3 airports to get this far and I sure as heck was not going to fail to use my camera.  Unfortunately, when I look at these images, I can’t say I’m glad I did.

What does one do with crappy vacation photos that are too ugly to use for anything but too evocative of memories to get rid of?  If you’re like me, you probably have thousands of pictures that you can no longer identify what the subject of the photo was supposed to be or the subject is obvious but completely blurred or has a street sign coming out of its head or is underexposed, but it’s the only photo you got of that really great subject, so you hang onto it for dear life.

Sometimes, it’s better just to delete.

I’ve written before about the joy of an uncluttered life.  And how that includes an uncluttered hard drive.  So, this is my pledge:  I’m deleting all of these photos.  Well, I might keep the Psychic Gallery one.  And the one of the ski runs.  And maybe the church.  Why is it so hard just to hit the delete key?

But, I digress.

Continuing my travel story from two days ago, having safely arrived at the Rutland, Vermont airport, we were greeted by our driver, Terry, from Gramps Shuttle.    (I’m pretty sure there’s a joke in there somewhere.)  He knew our names, he greeted us like friends, we laughed all the way to the hotel.

Along the way, I shot anything and everything that was even semi-interesting.  The sign for a Psychic Gallery really threw me.  I pictured an art gallery that displayed psychic events instead of art.  Or perhaps performance art installations involving levitation or telekinesis.  Or maybe just a collection of fortunes from Chinese fortune cookies.  Terry enjoyed contemplating what it was, but he didn’t offer to stop to find out.

It was just as well–it would only have resulted in more bad pictures.

Getting There

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When I was single, I went on a trip with a girlfriend once.  It was a ski club trip to Teluride, Colorado and there were about 50 of us on the trip.  I can’t recall ever getting on a plane to go on a get away with a girlfriend at any other time in my life.  Until now.

When one of my neglected friends back in Columbus decided it was high time for her to take a little time to have a fun for herself given that she’s spent about 30 years dedicating herself to making sure everyone else in her life was having fun, we decided to meet somewhere.

She suggested a spa.  I said, “Ahh!”  My friend suggested the “New Life Hiking Spa.”

I didn’t need to think it over–anything with the words “hiking” and “spa” in their name was too tempting to miss.  Plus, it’s in Vermont–one of the 12 states I’d never been to before.

The hardest part of getting our trip planned was finding time when we could both get on the phone.  We must have traded hundreds of emails and text messages trying to figure out an itinerary that would get us both to the Boston airport in time for a final flight to Rutland, Vermont so we could share a shuttle ride from there to Killington, our final destination.

When we called to make a reservation at the spa, the guy on the phone suggested we might find all the travel wasn’t worth it for a 3 night stay given where we were coming from.  He didn’t understand that it wasn’t about the destination.

I’ve never much believed in miracles, but I flew from Chattanooga to Atlanta to Boston while my friend flew from Columbus to Philly to Boston and we arrived within 30 minutes of each other with no lost luggage.

We had plenty of time to get to the Cape Air ticketing counter tucked amongst hundreds of JetBlue podiums and kiosks in Terminal C.  I can’t recall ever being asked how much I weigh when I checked in before.  They weighed everything I was carrying–I don’t know why they didn’t just have me stand on the scale, too, that way they would know I wasn’t lying and I wouldn’t have had to say my weight out loud while others were listening.

When we eventually got on the plane, it seated 9.  One passenger rode co-pilot.

I managed to take a few iPhone shots before having to shutdown my phone for the duration, but I longed for my 5D Mark III as we made our way over the mountains in the tiny Cessna with huge windows made for shooting.  I can’t recall ever being on a commuter flight that felt like a tour before.

In spite of a little turbulence and the great scenery, I managed to nod off, awakening just in time to see the mountains around Rutland.  It may have been my best travel day ever.

Wild Things

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One of my favorite past adventures was in Columbus, Ohio shortly before we moved to Tennessee.

One of the curious things about living in a place the vast majority of one’s life is the propensity to take it for granted.  For me, making friends with someone who was more connected to the Columbus scene introduced us to some experiences we would have missed completely.

These images are from one such experience.  Our friend learned of a behind-the-scenes tour available at the Columbus Zoo and organized a group of people to divide up the fee.  Even better, much of the money went to a Cheetah rescue program.

The animals we met were the animals who travel with Jack Hannah when he appears on television.  Jack himself was off at his Montana home, so we didn’t get to meet him.  I don’t think any of us felt like the experience was diminished by his absence; after all, it’s the animals who are the stars.

What was so cool about the experience is that these are animals who are used to educate people about endangered species and who have been handled enough to be touchable.  How often do you get to go to the zoo and pet a Lemur or cradle a baby Wallaby?

There are two things about the program I particularly like.  First, they are very serious about trying to save the extremely endangered Cheetah.  Not only do they operate a breeding program, but they also use the funds raised to donate Anatolian Shepherds to farmers where Cheetahs are still wild.  The Anatolian Shepherds protect the farmers’ flocks from the Cheetahs and, inversely, protect the Cheetahs from being shot by the farmers.  It’s a novel approach to solving a root cause that’s win-win.

At the Columbus Zoo, you can buy a children’s book about an Anatolian Shepherd raised with a Cheetah and those funds go to help save the Cheetahs too.  This is a somewhat ironic twist on the plot.  At the Columbus Zoo, instead of scaring the Cheetahs, the dogs provide comfort and confidence to otherwise skittish cats.  I don’t recall the story of what made them decide to raise the first cheetah-dog pair, but the result was a happier cheetah, so they have been raising puppies with the captive cheetahs ever since.

The puppy friend we met along with the cheetah babies there that day was a frisky yellow lab who didn’t seem to quite understand his place in the food chain next to his best friends.

The second part of the program I particularly liked was the number of rescues who were part of it.  The tortoise, the puppy, and the Python were all rescued critters.  In the case of the tortoise and the python, the Humane Society wasn’t equipped to deal with them.  The python had been released in a Columbus Metro Park and was at risk of freezing to death when it was rescued.  What a beautiful snake it is!