Spiders had been exceptionally busy last night, stringing their webs across the Trail, so I spent much of the morning swinging my hiking stick ahead of me to clear the way. I started to actually feel guilty about dismantling all their hard work, and then began to wonder how they manage to string those webs across a five-foot chasm like that. Do they weave a ball of web and then jump across, unravelling it? Do they climb down to the ground and then back up the other side of the Trail and then pull the first string tight? Something to Google later.
A toad as big as my palm hopped out in front of me, but thankfully I missed stepping on him. It would have been a squishy situation. Shortly after, I came across a ghostly Indian Pipe plant growing near the side of the path, the first I'd seen.
A huge beech had fallen across the Trail, which I had to scramble over, and then it was downhill to a bridge over a small creek. On one end of the bridge was a pile of mahogany-tipped scales from a pinecone, evidence that a chipmunk had been here. I've watched them descale these pinecones to get at the delectable white core, something like what we would do to an artichoke.
The Trail followed well-worn forest paths for a time. I crossed paths with another woman hiker, laden down with a huge pack. She had two dogs with her. We talked for a bit; she had started at the Forks of the Credit a few days ago, and was stealth camping along the way.
I stopped at an old cedar rail fenceline to look for a geocache. While I was searching, a middle-aged couple came along, looking for a side trail. Between the map and the GPSr I was able to help them out. Back on the Trail and I ran across a cheery fellow with two Labrador Retrievers. They had just finished rolling in a muddy puddle and had morphed from yellow to chocolate-coloured.
The Trail exited that huge wooded area and brought me out to the meadows of Boyne, atop the escarpment. The path folded over on itself with the rises of the land, allowing me to see the route ahead of me as it snaked through the grasses. I reached a farmer's field with its massive bales of hay waiting to be picked up; someone had built a small inuksuk at the side of the Trail to help mark the way through.
I stopped to look for another cache, and was startled by movement. A very young fawn walked right in front of me, not seeing me. At first I thought it was another yellow Lab, and then blinked when I saw the white spots. No sign of mama, though I imagine she couldn't have been too far away.
Into another wooded area which was more like a glen, with huge cedars, ferns, and a meandering stream that the Trail crossed three times. The sky grew fairly dark when I was in there, which began to worry me as the weather report was forecasting significant rainfall for later on in the afternoon. I was hoping it would hold off until I was out to the campground that I had slated for the night, and my tent was set up.
I came out to the road, took one look at the sky, and made a beeline to the motel that I knew was just around the corner from the campground. Many times that evening I thanked the inner voice that had told me to do that; at one point the sheets of rain were actually horizontal with the wind. Apparently a tornado had touched down in Shelburne, just down the road. Whew!
No comments:
Post a Comment