So, I've got the day off, and I'm home alone with the kids, trying to plug away at my doctoral coursework, but to no avail. It's impossible to concentrate with the kids around.Besides, there's a brutal shortage of hiking and blogging in my near future, as I'm leaving for classes in Rochester this Sunday, then writing papers (as well as juggling a very tolerant parish and a relatively-tolerant-but-don't-push-it-buster wife...and two children) until February 22, when this term's papers are all due.
And so, in this "calm before the storm," I decided to do another post about Bogus Rocks...since I'll probably be living off the memory of that last hike until late February. (Most things are bearable if you know for how long you'll have to endure them.)
I thought it would be really clever to name the first photo "Dos Equis," but it doesn't quite evoke the Siberian feel that I associate with that ghostly quadrant of the forest. The derelict tracks off to the right lead to the Rocks. And the icy road leads off into the forest to a place called Watson Farm. The signs are for real when they say "no winter maintenance," too.
And did I say that those rocks were thirty feet high? Well, they're surely thirty feet at the overlook. But in most spots, the height is probably something between fifteen and twenty feet, as you see in this second shot. Still a nasty fall. 
And check out the poor, denuded tree, exposed to the winter weather. What strange woodland varmint climbs so high to eat the bark of trees, and why does it eat so selectively, bypassing perfectly identical bark closer to the base of the same tree? Other trees had the bark chewed off a full twenty feet off the ground (no exaggerating this time). Are we dealing with young black bears here?
And finally, who made these tracks in the melting, two-day old snow? A young bear? A bobcat? Do you think he knows that he lost his glove?
Anyhow, rock on, most excellent rocks. (Dude, that was bogus.)
Hmm ... whenever we see tracks we automatically assume it is one of the exciting animals: bear, cougar, bobcat (in that order). But it almost never turns out to be any of them, instead we usually calm our thumping hearts with the sight of a raccoon or dog-off-the-leash. That's why I was pretty happy to hear you say porcupine, as they seem slightly more exciting. Young bears though ....
ReplyDeleteAbout imaginative walking have you had a chance to read Rebecca Solnit's "Wanderlust: a History of Walking"? I think you might like it.
Yeah, I know. One website I visited suggested that only bear cubs climb high into trees to eat the bark. That made sense since the bears are really hungry this year (cold, wet summer). Another said porcupine.
ReplyDeleteLooks like a great book. Maybe I'll have time for it in April.
Thanks for the blogs and photos. I own property at Watson Farm.
ReplyDeleteThis is typical of porcupine damage, where they prefer the more tender bark higher up the tree. Here in MN, they tend towards maple and birch.
ReplyDeleteWhile hiking in Polk County, PA, before moving out west, I met a very young porcupine making it's way up a tree. It made startled burbling sounds as it slowly tried to put the trunk between us.