Blackberries

Last weekend I went out to Clear Creek to check on the progress of the raspberries that grow along the pylon line. I am crazy about raspberries, and wild ones have way more flavor than commercially grown ones, in addition to being free.

To my surprise, the blackberries were already starting to get ripe. The last several years have been disappointing for blackberries, but this year...holy cow! It's going to be a bumper crop.

This evening when it had cooled down to 80 degrees or so, I went out again with a little bucket. The raspberries are still not ripe, but I got enough blackberries to...well, not quite cover the bottom of the bucket. But I got some! And I ate them before I got home.

On my way back, I came across a handsome garter snake who was so sleek that I think he must have just shed his skin. He must have been irritated with me, first almost stepping on him where he was basking on the warm dirt of the trail, then sticking my camera in his face like some kind of demented paparazzi. I got a good photo before he slithered off into the raspberry canes, though.

When I got home, I did what I almost always do when I get home from even a short hike: dumped all my clothes in the washer and jumped into the shower to shampoo my hair and check for ticks. Once when I was in college I found a dead tick in my hair after shampooing, and ever since I've assumed shampooing kills ticks. But tonight I was thinking about that--no lie--as I stepped out of the shower, when a tick literally dropped out of my hair onto my shoulder, and it was kicking its horrible little legs in a drop of water. So I guess shampooing doesn't help, but it is a good way to check the scalp.

I forgot to put on any bug repellent before I went out this evening, so by tomorrow I'll probably be itching like mad from chigger bites. But it will be worth it, because those were some good blackberries.

What is the point of ticks?

I haven't had a chance to get on the trail the last few weeks, partly due to laziness, partly due to my work schedule, and partly due to me contracting conjunctivitis. Blech. I do have a day hike planned for this weekend now that my eye is better.

But although I have been stuck at home in the evenings/weekends, I have managed to replicate the wilderness experience by contracting poison ivy and getting stuck all over with ticks while doing yardwork. Well, okay, one tick. But it was latched on. Holy crap, I wonder if that might have led to my eye infection? I mean, it wasn't latched onto my eye but ticks are full of nasty bacteria and stuff.

I don't see the point of ticks, incidentally. Every other creepy-crawly out there, yes, I know they're part of the food web. But does anything actually eat ticks? And if so, where are they when I need them? I'm sure if you asked ticks if there was a point to ticks, they'd say, of course, we're all part of nature and also I have children. But ticks can't actually talk, so I guess they wouldn't say that after all.

As for poison ivy, I understand it. It doesn't want to be eaten or otherwise bothered, so it gives people a rash if they touch it. (That doesn't stop goats from eating it with no ill effects, of course. Small flaw in your plan, poison ivy.) I don't agree with poison ivy, but I understand it, and I wouldn't actually have poison ivy now if I didn't insist on running over it with my lawnmower while growling, "Die die die." My yard is still full of poison ivy and I itch intolerably all summer, but sometimes you just have to attack a plant with a bladed machine.

Morally gray

A few weeks ago I mentioned that I was planning to dig up some wildflowers from under the electrical pylons in the watershed. Every few years the utility company mows and poisons the plants in that area, so it's not like I'd be taking plants other people could enjoy.

Yesterday I decided it was time. It was a drizzly, cool day so I didn't think I'd have anyone around to see me digging up plants. I set out in mid-afternoon with a big cloth bag and a trowel. As I believe I've mentioned before, there's an access trailhead only a few minutes' walk from my house, which would take me directly to the pylons. I walked briskly down the street, turned the corner...and there was a cop car.

Now, I live in a town with only about 1,400 residents. It's unusual to see cop cars around, even if I do happen to live just a few minutes' walk (in the other direction) from our tiny police station. This cop had pulled someone over for speeding or something, but it sure made me nervous to walk right by them and then step into the woods with that bag over my shoulder. I kept expecting the cop to run after me, shouting, "You! Drop your trowel!"

I hiked up to the pylons--a very brief hike, probably not even a third of a mile--and went well off-trail to do my digging. I got some ferns, some little-brown-jug, some daisies, some wild bee balm, and a few other plants, none of them rare. I was a little nervous on my way back, thinking the cop car might still be there waiting for me. But it was gone, and I got home safely and transplanted my plants.

And I will never do that again. It's far too nerve-wracking.

House Mountain

House Mountain, just outside of Knoxville, TN, is not very far from where I live, but I'd only been there once--in about 1998. I didn't hike very far then because I had my dog with me, Jasper the Newfoundland. He was a great hiking companion since he would happily carry all the water and snacks in his own pack so I didn't have to carry anything, but when he got tired and hot he'd just sit down and give me a look that said, "I'm ready to go back to the car now." And we would.

So today, I had plans to start early and hike the whole mountain. It was chilly and overcast, which worried me a little, but I had to be somewhere at five so I decided I'd just get cold and damp. It would not kill me, probably. I was more disappointed that it was foggy, since I wanted to see the views.

As it turned out, I got lost trying to find the trailhead. This shouldn't have surprised me, since I have a strange genius for being able to get lost while driving no matter how clear my directions. I didn't realize I wasn't on the right road for a ridiculously long time, and by the time I got onto the right road, it was over an hour later than I'd intended to start my hike. But a funny thing happened. About sixty seconds before I saw the sign directing me to the House Mountain park, the fog lifted, the sun came out, and the temperature finally rose above 60 degrees.

So I had a beautiful hike after all. The House Mountain trails are lovely and in most places in pretty good shape. Unfortunately, they're really badly marked and the map I'd printed off the official site turned out to be completely useless.

I started up Mountain Trail, but at some point apparently I got onto a side trail that took me through a whole bunch of boulders on a steep slope. It was AWESOME. That little stretch of maybe a third of a mile was worth the whole trip. I tried to get some decent pictures, but none of them really shows how truly amazing the area is. I could hear traffic dimly from far below and a few times I heard a rooster crowing at a nearby farm. The last part of the trail was a rocky hill so steep I had to scramble up from rock to rock cautiously. And at the top? I was suddenly on a level trail that went from east to west. There was, of course, no sign and no blazes to give me a hint as to where I was. I still don't know.

I sat down at the top of the trail (see photo above of my foot and waterbottle, looking back down the way I'd just climbed up) and took a break. After that I had to decide which way to go, which is where I discovered that my map was no use at all. I tried going east first but the trail didn't look very well used and was headed downhill steeply too. I'd just climbed up and knew there was a trail that ran along the hilltop, so I turned around and went the other way. That took me up to the top of the mountain.

I took what I think was the Crest Trail, although I'm not sure. I didn't take a picture of the only sign I found, but I think it called the trail East Overlook. Not positive, though. Anyway, that took me to part of the mountain that's privately owned (wouldn't that be cool?), where the owners have chunked a giant flag in the middle of the view. The view is fabulous. I counted seven hawks (ospreys? not sure) circling below me.

After that I had to backtrack back to the trail sign, and went the other way, West Overlook Trail. That one took me to a cool place where it looks like there used to be a radio tower or something. There were some concrete blocks where the tower was probably once anchored, and someone had chipped some names in one along with the year 1958. That was just a sidetrip, though, off a dirt road that led down to an actual radio tower. I saw truck tracks in the dirt and figured the road was just for the radio tower. Apparently that was not the case and if I'd continued I would have looped back down to the trailhead, but there were (as usual) no signs or blazes to let me know. So I went back and picked the only trail I hadn't yet hiked.

This one turned out to be the Mountain Trail, where I would have come out if I hadn't ended up at the rocky area. I didn't realize that right away, though, not until I came to the spot where I split off without noticing in the first place. I almost went back to the rocky area again, but I'd been on the trail for about two and a half hours by then and was getting tired. I went back down Mountain Trail, not very happy about backtracking even though it really is a lovely trail with some spectacular views. And some great big rocks.

I saw one critter on the trail that I can't identify. It looked like a little snake, but it moved kind of awkwardly compared to a snake. I think it was a legless lizard of some kind. I've done some online searching but can't find an ID. He was solidly gray and about, oh, maybe six inches long. I did get a picture, although it's not very clear. Maybe someone will know what it is.

Anyway, I had a good time at House Mountain but I don't think I'll be back very often just because the trails are so badly marked and that makes it frustrating. On the other hand, I might go back just to hike that rocky stretch.

And just to prove my point that I'm incapable of finding my way around unfamiliar territory when I'm in my car, when I left the small parking lot I turned the wrong way and didn't realize my mistake for several miles.

Here is a view of a lovely field that you will see if you go the wrong way after leaving House Mountain.

River Bluff Trail

So after my last post, I went out to Walmart and just bought a daypack. It was the only pack they carried that was made for women and really it's bigger than I wanted, but it was only twenty bucks and it isn't pink. (It's blue.)

Then I thought, why not? And once I'd packed too much stuff into all the many little pockets of my new pack, I went out to the River Bluff trail above Norris Dam. It's a loop trail; according to the sign, it's 3.2 miles long, but according to my map it's 2.7 miles. Since it only took me about 90 minutes to hike it today, and I was not exactly in a hurry, I'd guess my map is more accurate.

Last time I hiked the River Bluff Trail, a few years ago, it was a Sunday afternoon and Every. Single. Other. human being on the planet had decided to hike it. There must have been 300 people on that trail, seriously. It was horrible. There were giant family groups and little old ladies and babies and sweartogod nuns walking that trail. So I hadn't been back until today, but today when I arrived around 4:30pm mine was the only car in the little parking lot. Last time I had to park a quarter mile up the road (which should have clued me in).

I went to the right when the trail forked, knowing that that would take me up a steep climb to the top of the ridge, and knowing also that once I was at the top I would have a lovely stroll and it was pretty much all downhill after that, and the trail follows the river at the bottom of the ridge and it's nice and cool.

It was a lovely day, only around 75 degrees and sunny. Once I got to the top of the ridge, about the time I was thinking I'd like to rest for a few minutes and get a drink of water, there was a bench! So I sat down for a few minutes and had a drink.

I haven't had my camera very long and it kept flashing in shadowy areas even when I didn't want it to. I stopped for a few minutes and started punching buttons, and was pretty pleased to figure out not only how to turn off the flash, but also found that it has a time delay function so if I wanted to I could take a picture of myself. I am embarrassed to relate that I had just said, out loud, "Oh, cool, that's awesome!" to my camera when I realized a man and woman had caught up to me on the trail and had overheard me. I wanted to tell them that I don't ordinarily talk to myself out in the woods, but I just hiked on. They would have known I was lying anyway.

From the top of the ridge, where the main groundcover was ferns between huge old trees, the trail descended on steep switchbacks. The plants growing on either side of the trail became lusher and more numerous. Finally I reached the river, which is very low right now since it hasn't rained all week.

My pack worked just fine. My back still sweated, but not nearly as bad as with my old pack, and most of the sweat was because I'd forgotten to change shirts and was still wearing the "I'm too cheap to buy a con T-shirt so I gave blood to get this free one" T-shirt I got at DragonCon last year, which has a big screened design on the back.

My boots didn't bother my feet too much. I think they're getting broken in (the boots, not my feet). I also had trimmed my big toenails before I left so while I did get some boot bang, my nails don't feel like they've been driven back into my toes. No blisters or hot spots either.

<--just in case you weren't sure which way the trail went; hate for you to get lost or anything

So anyway, I had a good time and I'm not tired. I might go on a longer, more challenging dayhike in a week or two, maybe up to House Mountain or someplace where I haven't been in a long time. I like Clear Creek, but I like getting out on new trails occasionally too.

And now here are 42 pictures of my waterbottles.

How not to attract shoppers

I got a check in the mail today that I totally didn't expect, which is always nice. So I decided I should probably just get a freaking daypack so I can quit stressing over it. I started my search online, of course, although I'll probably buy the pack locally.

My search was for "daypacks for women." I clicked through a few sites, REI and The North Face, just glancing over the selection quickly before I go back and take closer looks. Then I came to a site called ABC of Hiking. Never heard of them before, but what the heck.

Here's the introductory sentences on the Women's Day Packs page: "We understand how women indulge into shopping a lot and how it sometimes serves as a therapy for them. This section of ABC-of-Hiking shop caters to those girls who love to shop and those who are looking for the best and most fashionable day packs. Filter the day packs you like, save all your favorites, and click straight through the freshest picks of the season! You'll find every woman's must-have day packs here!"

Here's their introductory sentences on the Men's Day Packs page: "ABC-of-Hiking has the best day packs for men based on their interests. For a father, husband, brother, or friend - there is definitely something for every guy here in our shop. We understand how men hate to shop, that's why we built the premise of making it even more convenient for them by providing this comprehensive selection of day packs for all male outdoor enthusiasts."

Whoa. What is this I don't even, as the kids say. Who wrote that stuff? They manage to insult women and men, not to mention hikers--because whatever their sex, I have never met a hiker who wouldn't love to spend hours examining gear before making the final decision. 'Fashionable' isn't top of the list of things hikers (of either sex) are looking for when they look at gear, too.

So no, ABC, I will not be buying from your site. (I wouldn't anyway because the text reads like it was translated into English by Babelfish so that the site looks amateurish and shifty, but you know.)

Some photos of Clear Creek

I've had this blog for what, over a week? and I haven't posted one single picture yet. Well, here are two pictures from about three weeks ago. Above is a typical sign posted along the High Point Trail, which is accessible by car if you don't care too much about your shocks or oilpan or tires and are an idiot.

I do almost all of my hiking in the Clear Creek area since it's basically in my back yard; it's more commonly known as the Norris Watershed, adjacent to the Norris Dam area (where I also sometimes hike). It's lovely out at Clear Creek with well-kept trails, not rugged or very challenging, but it has the benefit of being close to my house. Really close. I step out my front door and within five minutes I'm on the trail.

I've set my current book--you know, the one with running-away-from-bad-guys-through-the-woods-also-the-main-character-likes-to-hike-and-camp that I started this blog partly to talk about--in my own town. I figure it'll make the book more realistic, particularly the parts that take place on the trail. I've hiked in Clear Creek on and off for the last quarter century, and while I'm sure there are lots of people out there who know the area better than I do, they're not writing this book.

But it does feel weird to write about landmarks I've known all my life. I feel like I'm cheating. If I need to know how to stage a scene, I can go there and look over the setting. I expect I'll need to do some artistic-license tinkering with the real Clear Creek trails before I'm done with the book, but so far it's working out just fine. Go me.

Above: the Red Hill Cemetery off Red Hill Trail, which has gravestones from the late 19th century through to around the 1930s. Some of them are hand-carved.