In the Footsteps of Phineas Gage

Phineas Gage – “After”

“Hey Kevin, that rock is a trip hazard.  Get a tamping iron and pop it out.”  Recently, I was in Central Wisconsin, part of a work crew helping to build new tread on the Ice Age Trail (IAT).  Trail building, as it turns out, is pretty hard work and I was rapidly gaining new respect for what it takes to create the trails on which I have been so happily hiking for the past few years.  But, when the crew leader of my tread team issued this order, it gave me reason to pause.  You see, this was a lone rock on a new stretch of trail I had been assigned to prep.  Being concerned with a trip hazard on a hiking trail seemed a little, well, overly zealous?  I wondered what he would think if we were suddenly transported to the Appalachian Trail (AT), in say, Maine.  Using his definition of a trip hazard, one could think of the entire 281 miles of the AT in Maine as one continuous trip hazard.  What might it do to his mental state if he was forced to contemplate clearing trip hazards from all 281 miles of the Maine AT?  Not a pretty thought.

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Bad Juju

Consequences of Bad Juju

In life, we often don’t appreciate how good we have it, until we don’t. 

Check Engine

 

The summit of Old Rag in the Shenandoahs

I love Old Rag Mountain.  I think of it as the queen of the northern Shenandoahs.  True, it stands only 3,268 ft tall.  However, it is basically a great big chunk of (mostly) exposed granite and, as you drive by it to the west on Skyline Drive in Virginia, it looks pretty darn impressive.  While I lived in Maryland, it became my favorite day hike destination, despite requiring a 4 hour round trip in the car just to get to and from the trailhead.  I have hiked to its summit at least a couple dozen times.  When my daughters got old enough, I started taking them along with me and soon they too developed a love for the mountain.  Despite my move to Wisconsin, it is still my favorite day hike.  It is also where I plan to be on a more permanent basis.  After, that is, I am dead.

Escape from Rib Lake

Fair insect! that, with threadlike legs spread out,
And blood-extracting bill and filmy wing,
Dost murmur, as thou slowly sail’st about,
In pitiless ears full many a plaintive thing,
And tell how little our large veins should bleed,
Would we but yield them to thy bitter need.

From “To A Mosquito” by William Cullen Bryant

From its western terminus on the St. Croix River, Wisconsin’s Ice Age Trail (IAT) blazes a path east for over 400 miles before turning south, plunging down almost to the border with Illinois before turning north again towards its eastern terminus in Door County.  Large portions of those first 400 miles represent true wilderness and some of the toughest trekking I’ve ever done.  It is not because of mountainous terrain.  Wisconsin doesn’t have much of that.  But with seemingly endless wetlands, its remoteness and isolation, and the need for the occasional bushwhack, it makes for days that can be fairly intense.  Often it is just a sloppy mess.  Not surprisingly, this means other challenges, like mosquitoes, deer flies and ticks.  The IAT Guidebook attempts to warn its readers, e.g., for the Mondeaux Esker segment it states “The next portion of the segment … can be exceptionally challenging even for experienced hikers”.

Doppelgänger

Jacques and I

They say that everyone has a double out there, somewhere. You just aren’t aware of who they are because you never run into them. But, as luck would have it, I might have met mine recently.

Pulpomania

Negreira – pulperias are everywhere in Galicia

Casa Alongos – home of the pulpo burger

With apologies to the Galician Chamber of Commerce

A few weeks ago I was talking with the owner of a small restaurant in Riego de Ambros where we had just had a drink and tapas after another day of walking on the Camino Frances. I told him that I had enjoyed the snack he served called “pulpo”. He smiled and said, “Yes, it is good. I believe you call it octopussy in the US”. This, of course, stopped me dead in my tracks.

Wedding Crashers

wedding photography by graymountaineer, LLC

Just the other day we arrived in O Cebreiro after a long uphill walk. At 4,272 ft, O Cebreiro is one of the highpoints, both figuratively and literally on the Camino Frances. Anyway, after getting there, I walked over to the local church, the Iglesia de Santa Maria, and asked the woman in charge if there was a Pilgrim Mass that evening. The answer was no but she mentioned that there would be a blessing for all the pilgrims at both 6 and 7 PM. So, we returned at 6.