Water's Edge Adventures, llc

Catch-up with Beginners

2009-10-04T10:36:00.000-07:00

Finally, I am making the intent to blog today after many months and many ideas. I will catch-up if only to honor the 6 women who backpacked with me and my co-guide, LaRae, last weekend at Oak Openings Preserve Metropark west of Toledo, Ohio. Let me introduce this awesome group:

Marita Deitering and Nancy Moriarty

Marge McClellan and Linda Wetzel

Lin Snare and Joyce Rusch

Before they got to "rest" in those tents you see in the above photographs, they had to walk 9 miles with all the gear Saturday. Elsa, a volunteer who joined us Saturday, is pictured 3rd from left.

Marge, Nancy, and Linda are well rested after Saturday's lunch. They proudly wear their Swan Creek Daybreakers t-shirts with the logo of their walking group.

Linda and Marita are checking our progress on the 17 mile loop.

We had great weather, but foul weather would not have deterred this hearty group of beginner backpackers. Five of the six backpackers walk 6 miles starting before 7 a.m. several days each week; all year, all rains, snows, ice, winds, pre-sunrise moonsets, but all the time with one zesty attitude.

After dinner Saturday, we cook s'mores for dessert. Doesn't the moon fit right in like a roasted marshmallow?

Sunday lunch is a picnic, literally, with this group which you can see is sitting up. On previous trips, many of the participants are flat out on the grass.

OK, OK, so one of them is lying down. Let's give Nancy a break. She is 74 years old. She fell backwards with the weight of her pack while resting on a log!

We completed the 17 mile, 2 day walk in fewer hours than any of the groups I have led on the same trail. Their daily walking and camaraderie makes a huge difference in the quality of their lives. Two of the ladies who started walking less than 2 years ago with the Swan Creek Day Breakers have cut their cholesterol levels in half and brought their blood pressure into normal range. What a drug this nature stuff is!

I love the way they love their walks in nature. What impresses me most about this group though, is that they are older than me, that is they are in their 60's and 70's. Nor have I ever led another group where everyone commented in the morning that they slept well on the ground with the 1/4 inch thick foam core mats. I shouldn't admit this, but they had a wood fire going and hot coffee ready Sunday morning before LaRae and I even woke up.

These daybreakers are early but worth catching up with. They welcome new walkers. You will find them walking from 7 to 8:30 a.m. every morning on the longest, main trail at Swan Creek Metropark. Dare ya to catch-up with them, then join us next year on the Oak Openings trail!

Florida Master Naturalist Class

2009-05-26T19:23:00.001-07:00

Florida Master Naturalist Classroom (above) and Field (below)

It was delightful to spend 5 Wednesdays and 5 Sundays with a naturalist guide, several presenters, and 14 outdoor-loving Floridians. We kayaked, tromped, researched, and traveled to preserves, rivers, marshes, swamps, and lakes. I completed one of three segments which are offered through the University of Florida, wetlands. For my final project another student and I, with the help of a volunteer videographer, put together a video kayak tour of the lake at the Savannah Preserve State Park. This will be available for viewing at the nature center in the State Park and possibly on the Florida State Parks website. My intent is to complete the other two segments of the Florida Master Naturalist Program, coastal and uplands.

Growing Like Asparagus

2009-05-25T18:27:00.000-07:00

Winter has passed and spring has sprung. Well, actually I am still watching it spring. I read today in a botanical magazine that asparagus can grow 10 inches in a day. Wouldn't that be a fascinating experience, to spend a whole day as witness to a single plant's 10-inch lengthening? I want to set up my life so that I would stay put outdoors in one spot for 21 days from the 1st of May. Being. Asparagus!

My "being" has been enriched by many wonderful things in life the last few months, but not in one spot. Simplified, January I spotted myself in southeast Florida where I completed a Florida Master Naturalist Program on wetlands. In February I used the knowledge gained through the coursework to lead nature walks on the other side of Florida at Cayo Costa State Park. March was punctuated with a kayak trip in north Florida on the Suwanee River where I happened to find myself floating in the 500 year flood, or maybe it was just a 100 year flood. Whatever, it was a hell of a lot of rain! These showers gave way to April and May, and the joys and challenges of water gardening in Ohio.

Like the asparagus, I have grown substantially this year, but it's not easy to be. Asparame!

Alligators and Freaks

2009-02-13T16:31:00.000-08:00

I've been seeing a lot of alligators lately, and most of them from my kayak here in Florida. You can find these reptiles, survivors of the dinosaur age, in freshwater marshes, swamps, rivers, and lakes (almost anywhere you could put in a kayak or beg to swim in hot weather). Being cold blooded, alligators save energy not having to heat themselves internally. Consequently, they don't need to eat so often but do like to bask in the sun to warm up. These long bodied crocodilians (Florida also has crocodiles which prefer the more salty waters and milder weather of south Florida) move well in both water and on land; the front feet give them firm footing on land and the rear feet, which have more webbing, help propel them through water.

It looks like I am getting too close, but in many cases the rivers are very narrow. The alligators rest like statues, not moving one bit while we float by. But I have seen them bolt like lighting from the bank when startled, always retreating into the safety of the water. They are not interested in eating me. There have been few fatal attacks. This is amazing considering how closely the two species live together in modern Florida. Alligators prefer to feed on fish, turtles, snakes, wading birds, raccoons, and our pets, which are just another small mammal to an alligator.

Here is an 8 footer on the shore. Notice the red and blue in the foreground. I am in my red kayak and my Ohio friend Emil is in the blue kayak. This is the first time Emil has ever been in a kayak (I won't give his age but will say that he is drawing social security) and this is the first alligator he has ever seen. Emil is raving about how he never imagined Florida to have any wild, natural areas remaining. This is precisely why I want to introduce him to one of many natural areas I've had the pleasure of exploring here in southeast Florida, the Luxahatchee River.

OOOPPS! Emil flips the kayak on the next bend. What is so cool is that Emil is cool (more than soaked in cold water). He doesn't freak out. I guess that the American alligator doesn't stack up to the communist whom young Emil, his mother, father, and sister escaped by foot one dark, Hungarian night in 1956.

Alligators are docile. If left alone, like other reptiles such as snakes and turtles, they will retreat to a more isolated place if they feel threatened. The exception though is a female alligator with her babies. She guards the eggs she lays in a nest and then protects the live ones for nearly 2 years. Even with this vigilant protector, few alligators will make it through the 1st year. In the photo above, a mother floats near 2 of her young. The little ones are camouflaged by reeds in the bottom left quadrant of the photo. I am standing on a road shooting into a ditch for this photo.

Knowing what I do about alligators and having seen dozens by now from my kayak, doesn't mean that it is any less exhilarating to see one in its natural habitat.
Look at my foot in this photograph. My toes are freaking out! Unlike Emil, my feet have never had to help me escape from the above-mentioned, freaky, non-reptilian specie.

Liquidation: Mind Over Matter

2009-02-01T15:39:00.000-08:00

Pour it on. It is winter and Toledo just had a near record amount of snow fall for the month of January. I just missed 31 days of potential cross-country skiing. BoooooHooooo.

I've liquidated......been playing barefoot in the frothy sea foam of southern Florida. Gotta make the most of it!

Perseverance & Productivity

2009-01-01T08:26:00.000-08:00

You're not big on New Year's Resolutions? Me either. At least I didn't think so until I picked up a piece of scrap paper this morning. I had scratched two words on it last evening, New Year's Eve. Perseverance and Productivity.

It wasn't my idea but a friend told me to write down those words, that they are the words for the new year. I couldn't follow her explanation about energy and optimism but I have seen my friend settle into a peaceful domain of joy after years of study and intention. Since I admire these changes in her, I did as she asked. Now this morning, New Years Day, I wonder what to do with this scrappy piece of paper, printed in red ink with two words that I have tossed around year after year.

Hoping (aren't we all hoping for 2009?) that there may be some truth to what my friend is suggesting and to help me remember these two particular words, I challenged myself to tag the words with things that speak of perseverance and productivity. How can I see and remember perseverance and productivity?.

Two of my favorite framed prints have surrounded me for decades with memories of travel and an appreciation for art worldwide. Today they spell out perseverance and productivity, as if I am seeing these prints in a new light.

The first one is an 8 x 10 inch print that I found in an antique shop in Sweden many years ago. I was raising young children at the time and perhaps that is why it grabbed me. Besides, I am convinced that snow and cross-country skiing are the perfect match for winter fun.

I have always appreciated the simplicity of the lines in this print and how it can still convey strength, confidence, determination, and outdoor fun.

The little one goes with the flow, with no doubts about learning how to ski. The bigger one gently guides the younger one.

Both the little one and the big one are determined. This is perseverance.

This is a much larger piece, 20 x 36 inches. It was printed by Leighton T. Rute (sp?) in Berlin in 1891. I found it in 1980 while I was staying in a budget hotel in Kathmandu, Nepal. It was in a closet where the owner of the hotel allowed me to store some things. He sold it to me for $5. It has been hanging in my home ever since.

I have always enjoyed the quietness of this print. It is titled "Solitude." I appreciate the detail and subdued tones. It is loamy and luxuriant. She is mellow, allowing herself to be.

This woman, wrapped in a lovely gown, is sitting outdoors, apparently not worried about getting dirty. She dangles her bare feet, pondering. There is a connection between the woman and the natural world. She is alone, and she is not alone. She is with herself.
I am sure this print spells productivity.

I told you I wasn't interested in new year's resolutions. Now that I have committed perseverance and productivity to memory, I wonder if I haven't started out the new year with a lie. The 1st word listed under perseverance in my dictionary is resolution!

A Slant on Birches

2008-12-20T08:13:00.000-08:00

Birches can put you off-course if you take the time to contemplate how they...........

.......Stand in a Crowd
or
Crowd a Stand ...............

.....can be the Center of Attention
or
become the Attention Off-Center.......

........Deceive, On an angle and up-side-down
or
Receive, Up-close and personal.........

.......Color the Accent
or
Accent the Color.........

.........Darken the Light
or
Lighten the Dark.........

No matter the season or the angle, it is difficult to ignore a birch.

I Wish You Could Hear the Stillness

2008-12-18T11:33:00.000-08:00

Over the hills and through the woods.......I can't get lost if I follow my own cross-country ski tracks.

An aging snowman guards a solitary soul resting in the prime lake-front cemetery.

The December high-noon sun clears the distant hills but is incapable of creating short shadows.

Even in oblique winter rays, my sun-drenched swing invites a quiet repose...

Can you hear the chime break the stillness?

Go Blue?

2008-11-15T16:05:00.000-08:00

In the fall, after the colorful deciduous leaves have touched-down in northwest Ohio, two color-pairs remain standing. One pair of colors hales from Columbus, Ohio. The other's home is 1/3 the distance as Columbus though in another state, Ann Arbor, Michigan.

Leaves no longer block the wide view in northwest Ohio by the 1st of November. College banners swoop colorfully though, like goal posts across rival porches. Proud bumper stickers and rear window decals intercept my vacant mind at boring stoplights. Spend money for clothing that boast a favorite team? That completely passes over me! There is a frenzy over college football and I am on the side-line.

Vacationing here in Florida this fall, I don't fumble with frenzied fans. I'm in a different huddle. Coincidentally though, there is a pair of colors which punts surprises my way every day. I must be the wide-receiver! What team am I on?

After a stormy morning, a rainbow arches from my balcony.

A line-of-scrimmage. The peacock made himself bigger to tackle me in route to my favorite kayak launch. My best defensive play is paddling the kayak.

Field goal! The full moon sets over the banners at the Florida pool I train in.

The day kicks-off with a billowing sunrise during another morning swim. How can I get serious about training when there is so much going on in the stands?

I photograph the pelicans' line formation but don't notice the colors of my friends' kayaks until later.

Are these blue and maize punts directed to gain my focus and affections? Or is my view-finder secretly pumped to catch scarlet and gray punts as well? How many first-downs does the game allow a contender? I've had a bunch...I must be the winner!

Seventeen-Mile Hike is Just a Walk in the Park

2008-10-17T05:55:00.000-07:00

This is our sign post at the beginning of the hike on the 17-mile trail at Oak Openings Preserve Metropark near Toledo where we always get a group shot (from left to right, Cheryl, Andrea, Marita, Susan, Karen).

I should count sometime how many bridges and boardwalks are along this trail. There are dozens, but today it was dry under most of them. This is much different than the spring hike when we could have used several dozen additional bridges to span over wetlands.

After 8 miles of hiking, we had our picnic lunch around a grouping of logs. We were visited by horses and their riders. It is not uncommon to see more of these park users than other park visitors when we are further away from the parking lots. No one was too tired to greet the horses and treat them to some apples and carrots.
Before we started walking in the morning, we spotted a car at this junction in case anyone wanted to opt out of the second half of the walk. Andrea left only because she needed to get home to do some school work. The rest of us were looking forward to more of the autumn scenery and pleasant weather.

Yes, there was some brilliant reds along the trail, back-dropping Susan, Marita, and Karen here.

And yellows to match our spunky mood. With just a couple of miles remaining to complete the trail, don't these 50&60-somethings look like youngsters? Maybe that is pushing it, but we felt spirited!
Come on, lil' tike, see if you can do it! At least get out there and enjoy the splendid gift of change and color. The yellows will add a little zest to your life.

True Colors

2008-10-09T03:56:00.000-07:00

There's not much color out there, but look at ours reflect as we walk around Evergreen Lake

It is the first weekend in October and the trees haven't let go of their primary greens yet here in northwest Ohio. Regardless, this is the weekend of the women's backpacking trip at Oak Openings Preserve and it was colorful. The true colors of the women were brilliant....patience, respect, and gratitude. These behaviors, demonstrated while carrying loaded backpacks for 2 days and sleeping on the ground at night, were bright enough to color our trip beautiful.

We hiked through a variety of habitats. Here we are skirting the forest for a sunny break

and grazing the prairie

and contemplating the savanna

and crushing the frost as we head out on our second day
(left to right, Cheryl, LaRae, Lisa, Val, Karen, and Joyce
Look at the following blog and see how we lit up the night!

Backpackers Light Up the Night

2008-10-08T05:36:00.000-07:00

A two day walk in the woods will peak with the true colors of its hikers, and the night sparks with the true grit of its campers.
Below, LaRae prepares her 1-star accommodation.

Joyce and Karen are ready to co-habitate though they were strangers hours earlier. Below, sisters Valerie and Lisa will share this cozy nylon wrap.

Volunteer Elsa builds a cook fire to get our dinner going.

Fire, Marshmallows and Moon light our night.

Wilderness: Life is Good

2008-08-31T06:42:00.000-07:00

Canoeing in the Boundary Waters Canoe Wilderness Area

We went into the wilderness and it was good. Having friends meet Dan and myself and share their island with us made it very comfortable and reassuring, though less adventuresome.

Jon and Julie own a 3-acre island in Saganaga Lake, which is between two wilderness areas, the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness in NE Minnesota and Canada's Quetico Provincial Park. The Boundary Waters is 1.3 million acres of wilderness with thousands of lakes; it doesn't get any darker at night or quieter at day anywhere in the USA.

Friends Jon and Julie with us on an island overlooking the wilderness area.

The blues were plentiful....sky, water, and berries.

This grasshopper landed on my hand as I was paddling close to an island shoreline.

Jon and Julie put us up in a cabin. In effect, we we were not roughing it, even without electricity and flush toilet. The naked swims were better than any shower too! Yes, Life is Good!

Tri Training

2008-08-07T06:51:00.000-07:00

Too much time has passed since I posted last and I haven't just been training for next Sunday's Sylvania Triathlon. I have been taking care of water gardens and vacationing too. That doesn't mean that this annual event hasn't been on my mind.

In the photo above you can see us get ready for our last practice swim at Olander Park in Sylvania, Ohio. Team Toledo Triathlon Club does a great job of helping athletes prepare for races. Take a look at their website www.teamtoledo.com to see local training opportunities for swimming, running, and biking. Imagine the help and inspiration available if you are thinking about setting up a triathlon as a personal fitness goal. You might do one event each year or several events and help gain points for the team. Team Toledo just won the Mid-East Region Championship for the second year in a row. Yeah Toledo!

The Sylvania Triathlon started in 1985 with Jim and Joyce Donaldson's enthusiastic support of this growing sport. Their Woman's Only Triathlon on July 27th closed out with a field limit of 400. Visit their web site at: www.eliteendeavors.com

7:30 AM is the start time for the Sylvania Triathlon this Sunday, August 10th at Olander Lake. The sandy beach is rainbowed with 750 colorful swim caps donning the heads of chilled, but fired-up, nearly-nude swimmers. Rays of the rising sun stretch westward over the lake, sparking the drive within each participant. Their's and several hundred spectator's voices swirl together, lapping the early morning stillness with the National Athem. Applause sets the trigger and the gun is fired. The lake volcanizes into an eruption of flying arms, flashing legs, and spurting white water. The energy settles in the corn fields of the northwest Ohio bike route and is nearly extinguished on the paved streets of the Sylvania run course. The athletes finish after 2 to 4 hours in a steamy sweat.

Come witness the surge of athletes this Sunday. They will be doing their best, whether they have chosen the olympic, sprint, relay or duathlon. Launch them on and imagine yourself on the course a year from now. That is enough time to steer your fitness plan into a reality. Tri it!

Post Script, Post-Race, August 10, 2008, 3pm:
It's done, and I'm sitting up to tell you about it. A second place finish in the women's 55-59 age group brought home a trophy (hey, there were only 2 of us; what happened to the other 3 women in this age group who signed up?)
The first place finish went to a friend of mine, Pam Oatis, and boy did she improve since I last saw her in competition- 2:48:07 . Congratulations Pam!
(see all results at www.eliteendeavors.com)
My time was on the slower end for me 3:10:07. I'm not making excuses here, but the gears on my bike failed after 2 miles so I did the remaining 23 miles in a single gear. There is always something to deal with.
A funny thing happened too. I poured 2 cups of gatoraid over my head at the 4 mile stop on the run. I thought it was water. My face became caramelized while running into the sun. I had a garden hose shower at the 5 mile water-stop.
The best part is completing the event and feeling good for the next 364 days! As a bonus, I'm leaving tomorrow for a wilderness canoe trip in the Boundary Waters. Talk to you when I get back!

This Girl Gets the Gills

2008-06-24T08:13:00.000-07:00

I love to see this woman outdoors. She zooms around to visit neighbors on an electric cart, drives her car 10 miles on dirt roads to get to the nearest town, and captains her own boat to catch a fresh meal. Meet neighbor, "up-north" Dorothy.

Dorothy is a 5-foot high go-getter fisherwoman. Her "Gill Getter" mini pontoon and fishing equipment are not found in Lund's or BassPro's premium inventory. Her pontoon is not rigged like a "reel" fishing boat with fish-finders, gps, and gas-guzzling motors, attempting to quickly detect fishing holes around the entire perimeter of the lake. No, Dorothy putt-putts around the nearby coves with a small electric motor. She does not take an unsteady high stance on deck and lurefully cast over and over. Dorothy sits cuddled in a chair and enjoys the setting, pole hanging at her side. There are no flashy rapalas, daredevils, or hot-n-tots cast far and wide. Dorothy modestly, but confidently, drops the most gaudy, rainbow-colored rubber worm, willy-nilly in the water. No assortment of rods and reels to waste time untangling and tangle the nerves in this woman's gear. A single pole adorned with one lucky charm, that ugly fake worm, is the only jewel she boards. And fishing buddies? None. At 89, this fisherwoman is casting off all by herself.

Living alone, Dorothy has trouble keeping the bears from tackling her metal bird feeders and the porcupines from nibbling her wooden porch steps, but watch out fishies! And Bass Pros, move over, for Dorothy is brandishing her tried-and-true pole, tipped with an dull, ugly worm and a life-line of sparkling intuition.
This girl has got the gills and the gull!

Water Falls and Time Flies

2008-06-18T06:22:00.000-07:00

Don't we wonder about the laws of nature? As sure as gravity pulls water relentlessly down a sliding course, a mysterious force allows time a free ride on the wing of life.

I enjoy tending the waterfalls which I have installed in people's lives. Now, how do we catch that free ride? A smiling face urges me with "Jump high and hang on!"

Spring Chicks Hike in May

2008-05-20T19:30:00.000-07:00

It is a lot greener and cheerier around the 11-mile sign post in May than it was in April. These women are still smiling after several hours of hiking 11 miles on the 17-mile scout trail at Oak Openings Preserve near Toledo, Ohio. That is Lynn (age 50) with the walking stick she bought in the Smokies. Marita (age 65) is wearing the Swan Creek Day Breakers tee shirt which she designed. Marita and Lynn smiled even bigger when they finished the last 5 miles!

This is the group which started the hike. From left to right: Lynn, Pat, Marita, Susan, and me. Pat (age 53) and Susan (age 62) had intended to hike a section of the trail. They ended up walking further than they had ever walked before!
I must give all of the women credit for even showing up at 8 am last Saturday. It was raining and cool. They could have stayed home in bed. I'm so proud to associate with women who leave fear and laziness behind and step out for change and challenge.

This spring hike was not an easy one. Much of the trail was covered in water and had to be hopped from log to log, or we would scout a way through the woods to get around the standing water and boot-sucking mud. Pat is balancing well here!

Then we had some dry areas like the oak/blueberry forest pictured below in which Susan is leading the group. Can you see the yellow blaze on the tree in the left foreground? That's the color you follow to find your way along the entire 17-mile scout trail (which is really only 15 1/2 miles due to rerouting around wet areas).

The trail weaves through much more than wetlands, flood plains, and flatwoods dotted with vernal pools in the preserve's 6000 acres. We enjoyed the filtered light of the savannas, prairies with blooming blue lupine, whimsical pine plantations, and cactus-studded sand dunes. The migrating songbirds whizzed around us and stopped us in our tracks with their chorus echoing overhead. Deer spotted us while we took our breaks. Sweet aromas stimulated deep, deep breaths. And safe completion boosted self-esteem and self-confidence.

Congratulations to Susan, Pat, Lynn, and Marita! I mention your ages so we all know that even "old" spring chicks can....can....can.....and can!

May it Happen!

2008-05-17T07:02:00.000-07:00

One of the things I would like to do in life is sit.
Sit for 30 days in the woods and watch the changes.

I have decided mid-April to mid-May would be the most amazing time. These photos were taken April 17th and May 17th on the 17-mile Scout Trail at Oak Openings Preserve near Toledo, Ohio.

Can you believe this is the same place?

April looks pretty bare here. Notice the river.

Can you see the river in May? The skunk cabbage grows thick and lush in one month.

I intentionally shot photos from the Polly Fox bridge because there is a nice story behind it. High school girls built this bridge under the direction of a female park ranger. The girls are single moms from Polly Fox Academy. Several of them have backpacked the 17-mile scout trail. Isn't this a unique way to do something useful for the community and learn life-skills at the same time?

What will sign-post 11 look like in May?
Coming soon on my next post!

Break My Day

2008-05-10T18:28:00.000-07:00

If you can't travel to the Smoky Mountain National Park and trek on up to the Appalachian Trail, you can experience life on the AT vicariously by absorbing yourself in a copy of Bill Bryson's true story, A Walk in the Woods. This was a best seller for a few years. I was told during my visit on the AT in April that the number of thru-hike starters is down to its normal numbers. According to a worker with the trail alliance, this is a relief since many readers would attempt to hike the trail without proper preparation or an understanding of the "leave-no-trace" ethic.

Shortly after I returned to Toledo I took an 8 mile walk with this playful group, the Swan Creek Day Breakers. They meet nearly every morning of the year at 6:45 AM. They walk 4 or 5 miles together even on super-cold mornings when all they can see of each other is a nose and two eyes. They see the seasons change, study birds and flowers, and meet and greet others on the trail. They have semi-annual potlucks and celebrate each others birthdays. In the winter, these day-breakers get to walk in the light of the lingering moon.

The Day Breakers were enthusiastically telling me stories about experiences they have shared on walks in "their" park. Swan Creek Metropark has become such a part of their lives for the last 13 years that they refer to it as "my" or "our" park. A few times a year they travel to other parks. I met with them at Oak Openings Preserve. I was the youngster, their ages ranging from 65 to 80. You know, they didn't even notice when it started to rain. They mindlessly adjusted their hoods and jackets while they continued with their happy banter and gentle tread.

You can sit in your easy chair and travel vicariously all you want, or you can get up early and make your day with the Day Breakers. They made mine!

Bye Smokies!

2008-05-07T15:00:00.000-07:00

The view from 5000 ft Mount Cammerer in Smoky Mountain National Park is well worth the climb. In my opinion, if you get a clear day, the view from any mountain top is icing on the "I-did-it" cake. In this photo, I am standing below the fire tower. The camera's self-timer clicks the shutter in these "lonely" places.

It is so quiet at Davenport Gap Shelter where I spend the night. I am here by myself for a few hours. Notice the chain link fence on the front of the shelter. It keeps out the bears. The park service is starting to remove the fencing because the hikers don't like the feeling of being caged. There hasn't been as much bear activity at the shelters since there is more care in hanging food. This preventative measure is easier to do since the park put in high cables which we pulley our food up for storage each night.

I finally get a couple of visitors. Ann (age 62), pictured reviewing her map, is walking every trail in the park....over 1000 miles! She lives nearby and hikes a few times a week all year long. There are several walking clubs in the area so these day-hikers can always find someone to walk with.

In this view I can see the expressway heading north. It is the road I will be on TOO SOON.

The thru-hikers have to keep on truckin' as recorded here in the journal at Davenport Gap shelter (GA-ME 08 is short for 'from Georgia to Maine in 2008'). The thru-hikers have 2000 miles to cover this summer so they better keep "movin' on," like Cuatro briefly journaled. If they don't move on, they will get caught in the snow this fall at the northern terminus, Mount Katahdin.
Looks like Pips is loving the sunsets, sunrises, and the adventure. Looks like Pips and Kraut are loving each other too!
Happy Trails Thru-hikers! Bye-bye Smokies!

Thru-Hikers Are Not Through Yet

2008-04-28T08:44:00.000-07:00

OK, so why do I like backpacking on the Appalachian trail in the Smoky Mountain National Park each spring? Because you never know who you will meet up there, but you can bet they will have a story. These are three of the five guys I spent my first night with at Davenport Shelter. I know them only by their trail names, which is the only way they all seem to know each other. Resin, on the left, is only 18 and wanting to experience the world before he starts college. The guy on the right is older than me and well educated. Rainfly, with the orange bandanna on his head and writing in the trail journal (see my blog dated April 22nd), is in his 40's, a high school drop-out. We slept on the wooden plank bunks in this shelter. I enjoyed talking with all 5 of the hikers and they loved me because I hiked uphill several miles with homemade brownies to share with them. I also gave extra food to two of the guys who were running low.
All of the backpackers who I meet at this time of the year are thru-hikers. These adventurous souls start in Georgia in early spring with the intent of walking more than 2000 miles until they come to the end of the trail in Maine. Every year several hundred hikers start but only 10% finish the entire trail. What I like about them is their attitude. I meet dozens of them in April, 200 miles into their trip, and they all still think that they are going to make it to Maine, or at least they express a lot of hope as they nurse blisters, sore backs, shoulders, hips and feet. They come in all sizes, shapes, ages, socio-economic backgrounds, American-born and foreign. Most are starting out alone but end up with a network of hiking friends all known to each other by their trail names. In the photo above are the first two women thru-hikers I met this year, HiLo and I-trod Along. They walk the same pace so they often walk together although they started in Georgia separately.

This is where I spent my second night, Cosby Knob shelter. There is always a spring for drinking water near the shelters. Here you can see two thru-hikers, Willow and Gentleman Jack, fetching water.

There are lots of chores to do when the day's hike is complete. These two women thru-hikers, Longwe Tru (an attorney) and Pickwick (a lab tech), are preparing dinner. They also are hiking alone. Actually Pickwick (with red bandanna) is not a thru-hiker. She has already hiked the entire Appalachian trail and is just doing a section of it this year.

The thru-hikers generally retire before dark. They make their own space within the confines of their sleeping bags to read, write in their personal journals, or sleep (toss and turn like a rotisserie many of them have told me). Willow, Pickwick, and I extend the day with a pajama party discussing gear, trail food, guidebooks, maps, and life histories. I could be friends with any of these women, I'm sure. You should know that Willow never backpacked before and she is 53 years old!
After I return home, I continue the journey by logging on to: trailjournals.com and looking for some of the hikers I have met who are submitting journals. This year I can follow Gentleman Jack and Longwe Tru. You can too. Just click on the link above, select Journals, and sort by trail name to find Gentleman Jack and Longwe Tru. Carefull though, there are hundreds of hikers that might drag you along and you could end up hiking the Appalachian Trail yourself someday!

Backpack Birthday

2008-04-22T05:39:00.000-07:00

Backpackers Journal on the Appalachian Trail, April 5, 2008, Davenport Gap shelter. Click on the photo to enlarge it and read some of the entries from the thru-hikers who are backpacking over 2000 miles this year from Georgia to Maine.

I think it was for my 50th birthday when I did my first solo backpacking trip. Now I love it and try to get myself to the Smokies every April to celebrate my birthday. Here's some photos from this years trip.

It's a steep climb getting up to the Appalachian Trail in Smoky Mountain National Park.

Lots of streams to cross. This is a small one but a good place for a break (not a leg) and sip of cold water.

Don't you agree this is a great birthday gift? In my next blog entry you will discover why I really love to get up on the Appalachian Trail. Happy Trails!

Beach Blast 5K Run

2008-04-03T15:23:00.000-07:00

Excuse the tilt, but I hurriedly shot this sunrise photo while riding my bicycle to the race start.

From Cayo Costa on the Gulf coast to St. Augustine on the Atlantic coast, we have found another Florida State Park in which to tent camp and call home for a few days. We were signing in at the ranger station at Anastasia State Park when I noticed a flyer about the upcoming Beach Blast. Students enrolled in the sporting facilities and events class at Flagler College in St. Augustine organize this event each spring. It includes a volleyball tournament, surfing contest, and a 5K run. I haven't run 3 miles since last summer's triathlon, but when I signed up I was hoping this Beach Blast 5K would kick-start my training.

This is the race course...out and back on the beach (3 miles total). Look at that storm moving in. It was a beach (you know what I mean) running against 15 mph winds.

I watched out for this young guy when I heard his name was Devin, my son's name. He gave me a big smile and wave when he passed me on the course but fell behind later. I cheered him in as if he was my own son. His mom took this photo after the race and vowed to start a fitness program herself.

Did you read the inscription on the mug in the top photo? At the awards ceremony, the students called me up as the recipient of the 2nd place female, age 50 and over award. I remember coming in behind a woman in a green shirt at the finish, but they didn't call her up for 1st place. The students awarded some other woman 1st place. We asked the students what our finish times were but they said those got all mixed up (papers were blowing around in the stiff wind). So the 3 of us ladies had to figure out our placement. Remembering our approximate times on the clock at the finish line, we determined I should have been placed third. We told the students, and they gave me a different mug. The prize mugs were wrapped in cellophane with pretty ribbons. When I unwrapped mine back at camp, the inscription read "2nd Place Female, Age Group: 18 & Under." Bless those kids!

Cayo Costa: Playing Slow

2008-03-28T12:04:00.000-07:00

Some of the things I have enjoyed the most about staying on the island of Cayo Costa for the last month is the time to explore, learn, and create.
I had fun with my little camera. It fits in my pocket and it is not too expensive so I don't worry about taking it on the bicycle or kayak. Photography slows my pace so that I notice more about the world around me. Even if I don't know what something is, I may later look it up in a guidebook. If I do know what the subject is, I can look at it from different angles to study its form, texture, color, reflection, and how it all changes with the ambient light.

Can you figure out what I captured in the photo above?
I found this stingray washed up on the beach. There was still a gleam in its eye, probably a recent death.

This sea horse washed up too. It was still moving a little, but could not swim upright as it should. Isn't it an unusual form? Look at its tubular snout and prehensile tail. I used my hand as a scale and released the sea horse after taking this photo (another advantage of a tiny camera is that you can shoot with one hand).

One of the best things about Cayo Costa is the ability to move through nine different natural communities within a days walk. These prickly pear cacti are at home 300 feet from the Gulf shore.
I do have trouble capturing wildlife and birds with the small lens on my camera. I did get lucky one day (see the photo below). Look at the teeth on this strange tropical bird.

Not really. It's just a crab's claw. I don't mean " just". It's awesome what nature has designed.

One thing I didn't enjoy so much was sitting with the computer trying to install photos on this blog. You can see me at the "desk" behind the ranger station. The outdoor office was a breath of fresh air...but the slooooow connection really put me on island time, warping the logic of even attempting to connect with technology.

It has been a fast month playing at Cayo Costa. It's time to go. So long Cayo Costa! Maybe I'll come back and play, real slow, again next year.

Cayo Costa: Volunteer Work

2008-03-25T17:00:00.000-07:00

Volunteering at Cayo Costa State Park in Florida for a month is fun and varied. It does not seem like work when I do things out of the routine of normal work and totally at will. Usually we were able to select our jobs. Above I am welcoming visitors to the island before I drive them from the dock to the beach on the tram.

Sometimes we pick up litter; by foot, bicycle, or as above, by kayak.

We help out with trail maintenance and sometimes clean cabins and bathrooms.

I enjoyed helping the state park post signs and rope off acres of beach to protect bird nesting areas. Above, Tom, Kathy, and I are on our way to a remote beach to help out. Some of the best parts about volunteering are all the wonderful people you meet and how much the staff appreciate the help.

Cayo Costa: Sea Wrack

2008-03-16T15:37:00.000-07:00

Sea wrack. What the heck is sea wrack? Most beach goers avoid it like the toxic red tide. Sunbathers and shell collectors complain that it is smelly and want to see it raked up and removed.

That annoying scraggly line of debris along the high-tide mark, sea wrack, is an accumulation of seagrasses, algae, and animal remains which lie baking in the sun. This pile-up is a prime feeding place, alive with swarms of tiny amphipods, insects and larvae feeding on the weeds and stranded animal remains. Crabs and shorebirds forage here. I forage in the sea wrack too.

Yea, yea. I could walk the beach here at Cayo Costa, one of the best for shelling in the world, and find angel wings, sand dollars, coquinas and a godzillian more shells in a short walk, but look what I found in less than 10 linear feet of sea wrack. I'm not going to take them home and display them on a shelf or put them in a little basket in the bathroom. No, no. My little treasures are not going to collect dust. They will though, collect sun rays and sea spray until they return to dust.

This is a 10 inch conch shell encrusted with barnacles and nearly completely covered with something that looks like a white soft coral.

Isn't this color beautiful? I did some work with a naturalist who collects algae like this to make colorful sea art at home.

This coil looks like a snake skin. You can find dozens of these whelk (a gastropod similar to conch) egg cases on the beach or shores of the lagoon.

Next time you are at the beach, take a closer look through the sea urchins (below) and sea wrack. You'll find many fascinating things and can observe a world of activity within the debris. And it doesn't smell as bad as dumpster diving, I promise.

Cayo Costa: Kitchen Entomology

2008-03-16T14:03:00.000-07:00

Anyone who loves bugs would have a field day in my camp kitchen. Look at the bug in the photo above flickering around in the corner of my kitchen tent. It looks big enough to have been banded by a biologist tracking its whereabouts. I'm not going to pretend to know what most of these visitors are, but they make it easy to find them.
So fellow naturalists, come to my camp kitchen. No walking, netting, or trapping needed. Just have a seat in my Cayo Costa kitchen. Take your shoes off, put your feet up, and watch what comes.

This 4 inch millipede gave me the creeps. It annoyed me even further when it pooped on my chair (or maybe it was annoyed that I wanted to use my chair and released its defense...foul smelling secretions.)
This chair is not the toilet, bud.

Look at this guy eyeing my bicycle through the screening. It made as much noise as gale-swept palm fronds in its attempt to get out.

These ants found my double-bagged homemade granola. I poured the granola on a white plate and shook it like an earthquake. The ants came marching out and I began munching again.
(hey, Cayo Costa doesn't have provisions, and I like my granola!)

Alright, who left the crumbs on my kitchen chair? At least these Palmetto bugs (that's what the Floridians call them...they hate to admit that they are just cockroaches) seem to be keeping the ants away. Damn, don't cockroaches just frequent dirty kitchens? Oh yea, my whole floor is dirt.

Well anyway, would you like to come to dinner next Tuesday?
And remind me to tell you to check your shoes before you put them on again. When I lifted mine, a lizard scurried out.

Cayo Costa: Transportation

2008-03-08T14:19:00.000-08:00

As volunteers we are able to come to Cayo Costa on a Florida Park Service boat like the one pictured above. We hitch rides on it when we want to explore other nearby islands like North Captiva and Gasparilla or if we need to go to the mainland to get supplies. Visitors to Cayo Costa usually arrive by public ferry or they come on their private boats. The island is 7 miles long north to south and 1 mile wide east to west. How do we get around once on the island?

You can take this truck-pulled tram on a service road from the ferry dock across the island to the beach. As a volunteer I help with the driving.

On calmer days you can explore the bays, lagoons, and sandbars by kayak on the leeward side of Cayo Costa. Why don't you see me paddling? This kayak is peddle propelled. It is peddled like a bicycle leaving my hands free for the camera, binoculars and snacks! We don't venture into the open sea with these kayaks.

This is my favorite way to get around on Cayo Costa. There are several miles of flat trails through the coastal grasslands and oak pine forests. At low tide it is possible to "coast" on the shoreline (until you turn around and hit the wind).

But you can barely beat bare footin'.

Cayo Costa: Earth-friendly Cleaning

2008-03-05T12:26:00.000-08:00

We forgot a sponge when we packed our camping gear for our month stay at Cayo Costa. You just don't go out and buy one here on the island. First you ride your bicycle for a mile, then you take a motor boat for a half-hour or a kayak for 4 hours, then a car for a half-hour minimum, pay money, throw away packaging, and then reverse the trip. So what does that take, a few hours and a few dollars? Or you can pick up your still-warm used tea bag and wipe the dishes clean, lickety-split (I don't mean lick and spit). Why would we want to use an old bacteria-laden sponge when a sterile teabag is available daily? If the wet teabag is dipped in sand it makes a great pot scrubber (did you really think we care about the bacteria?)

Yes ma'm, you can have a hot shower on the island if you heat the water in these solar bags and then lift the heavy things overhead. Make sure the dribble hits you where you need it most!

Or you can just take a relaxing cold shower, no fuss no muss.

Laundry is a bucket dance (or a swim in the ocean with the clothes on, then a rinse in the outdoor shower).

I like this whole house cleaning....just shake it out. Chemical-free, earth-friendly, green-clean, eco-whatever you want to call it......it's just more, well.....wholesome.

Cayo Costa: Star Gazing

2008-03-04T05:36:00.000-08:00

Beach Morning-Glory

Without electricity and lights near Cayo Costa, we get amazing views of the stars. The night of the total eclipse of the moon was awesome and fun. Campers had fires going, and spotting scopes set on the moon. Music and song flooded the campground as the moonlight faded. When the moon was completely shadowed by the earth, it presented itself in an unusual over-ripe pear color. No flashlights or headlamps were needed to navigate for several nights during the week of the full moon.

Walking around during the day, I notice how many stars surround me. All of these photos are taken within 200 yards of my campsite.

A Starfish (Sea Star) Drifted in with a Sea Urchin

This little 8 inch plant surrounds my camp but I can't find it in my guidebook.

There are a lot of sand dollars on the beach near here.

This 6 inch white flower is moon vine. It blooms only at night.

Obviously, stars are shining on us 24/7.

Cayo Costa: Camp Kitchen

2008-03-03T08:43:00.000-08:00

I love cooking outdoors, don't you? Even mac and cheese can be gourmade with a side of canned stewed tomatoes with basil and a sunset. The camp kitchen is simple but complete with everything a not-wanna-be cook needs; sink (water jug over an earthen floor), stove (25 year- old Coleman), pantry (black box with latches), and fridge (cooler).

The food pantry is nearly raccoon and feral hog proof. There are no provisions on the island.

If you can find them on this table top, the condiments are added to pasta-a-la-outdoors, rice versatilie, or spicy beans non-delux. PB&J and crackers with cheese are readily available favorites.

Some of Dan's catches won't fit well in the skillet such as this sea trout. Sometimes it works out better grilling them over a campfire. Dan is not too interested in cleaning and filleting the fish, but he does gut them! Today he caught several species; redfish, sea trout, snook, sheepshead, and flounder. He usually keeps whatever he catches first and releases the rest since we don't have good refrigeration.

Keeping it simple and enjoying the outdoors more, the camp kitchen.

Cayo Costa: Friends Visiting

2008-03-02T07:03:00.000-08:00

Good Morning Cayo Costa! Shelling before Sunrise.

I hadn't been on Cayo Costa very long when Florida friends, Kornelia and Carol, came to visit for a couple of days. They arrived on this ferry boat with their kayaks and bicycles stowed on top. I gave them a tour of the island. Take a look.,,,,,

Kornelia showing Carol where she just spotted some dolphines surfacing
while on a bike ride around the north end of the island.

Carol and Kornelia taking time to "catch-up" and cool off in the surf.

Kayak touring through a mangrove tunnel. We paddled
through three miles of open water to get here.

Don't you want to visit too?

Cayo Costa: Out of Africa

2008-03-01T10:37:00.000-08:00

Heading over to Cayo Costa Island on a Park Service Boat

Camp Site with Sleep Tent and Kitchen Tent

View of Coastal Savannah from Kitchen Tent

Morning Coffee

Why do I feel like I am someplace other than Florida? Africa keeps coming to mind. Is it our tent with its screening pulled back framing a view reminiscent of a sandy, palmy grassland in Kenya or Tanzania? Or the lack of electricity and running water? The unconditioned air that I'm not conditioned to? The quietness takes me far away; can this really be the States? No cars or machinery to break the sounds of the sea, birds, and swaying palm fronds. The night is a dark studded jewel like it is suppose to be and the day a vast scape of changing light and shadows. Wow, this is out of.....where are we?

Cayo Costa, a Florida State Park, is where Dan and I have chosen to do volunteer work for a month this winter. Cayo Costa is an undeveloped barrier island 6 miles off the southwest coast of Florida in the Gulf of Mexico. You can only get here by boat. We do a few hours of work per week and we get to stay in our tent for free. And free we are. Lovin' it!

I've been strolling around barefoot these hot days with a piece of fabric wrapped around my naked body. I feel like an African woman, especially when I balanced shower gear on my head for fun on my way to and from the outdoor shower (another story). It occurs to me after several days that this little "sun dress" I secure (and not so securely sometimes, by amature accident) with twists and knots around my chest is a piece of fabric I purchased years ago at an international fair in Toledo. I examine it further and find a label in the corner which reads "Printed in Tanzania." Could it be....the print is rubbing off on me?

Manatee Mania

2008-02-11T20:12:00.000-08:00

Manatees congregating in warmer shallow water (photo from Manatees, a Tribute)

Tail Fin Next to My Kayak
Manatee Coming Up for Air with Nostrils Surfacing

A Pair of Docile Manatees (photo from Manatees, a Tribute)

What do they call a group of manatees? School, herd, pod? You'd be surprised how many biologists I asked who didn't know. Even the woman who answered the phone at the Manatee Education Center didn't know, but I liked the way she laughed each time she tried a different noun. You know how you can sometimes tell if you have the right word by sounding it out? That's what she was doing on the phone ...."a school of manatee, a herd of manatee, a pod of manatee." I explained I was curious because I ended up floating on top of several of them in shallow water and I wanted to tell this story in an educated manner. She never figured it out but continued to amuse herself with "flock.....clan....litter."

To move on with the story, I'll explain how I became so intimate with manatees, and I promise it won't sound too educated. You see, I was so delighted to finally find these unobtrusive ancient animals in the tanin-stained water of the Indian River Lagoon here in Florida, that I released my kayak paddle for a couple of minutes in favor of my binoculars and digital camera. The wind did fast work of putting my lame kayak in the center of the school-herd-pod of manatees. I could feel the manatees pushing against the bottom of my kayak. They encircled me, or somehow my kayak drifted into the center of their corral. I could have scratched their bulging backsides, bedecked with algae and barnacles. I swear their girths were greater than my 32 inch wide kayak. The school-herd-pod was so concentrated that there was not enough free water to set my paddle and sweep myself out of the way.

I held my breath knowing I could soon be taking a well-deserved swim. I wasn't too worried because I knew they wouldn't bite me; they don't have any teeth except molars and they are herbivores. That means vegetarian, thank you. Manatees are tame and trusting: not territorial. They don't even fight over mates, so what are they going to do with me? (Squish me and make muck?)
Manatees can stay underwater about 20 minutes but they usually come to the surface for air more often than that. I was surrounded by so many, that every few seconds I would hear a woosh of exhaled air and if I could turn my torso limberly in the right direction, I could see the nostrils flare on the tip of a surfaced bulbous snout within a paddle's length from me. Then the manatee would submerge, the lungs nurished and the nostrils closing, enabling feeding underwater.
They held me in suspense tottering on their backsides, while they sized up my underside. Would my blimpy 8 foot Hobie kayak resemble them enough in the dark water to adopt me until they slowly move laterally with their front flippers to a new grazing ground? Not a chance. Once one of these 1/2 ton marine mammals determined I wasn't part of the school-herd-pod, they all decided to take leave. This parting was not in their normal serene style of locomotion, but a grand, turbulent exit. I rocked in a sea of white water, waves pouring over the sides of my kayak as their paddle shaped tails lifted and propelled them away from my kayak.

These ancient, vanishing, mermaid-like animals gave me what a I deserved, a wet body and soggy pride, but they did not dump me. I think my Hobie is shaped too much like them; a roly-poly bouyant-neutral vessel that just settled calmly upright. Thank you again.

So is it a school, a herd or a pod of manatees that mania-teased me and my kayak? If I tell you that their distant cousins are elephants, would that help? Need another hint? Try sounding it out loud: "Cheryl, the nerd, drifted into a ______of manatees."

How to Pick Up a Friend

2008-02-04T12:07:00.000-08:00

Garage-Sale Kayak in Florida

Garage-Sale Friend Phyliss in Kayak

I went for a bike ride one warm Florida morning several weeks ago. I wasn't shopping for anything in particular when I stopped at a garage sale. There was lots of stuff on the driveway but I noticed the blue kayak almost immediately. In trying to make kayaking more accessible for women through Water's Edge Adventures, I started to negotiate with the owner. I noticed a car pull up and a woman jumped out. She darted straight for the kayak exclaiming that she has been looking for one for months. I had this guilty feeling about buying the kayak when I already had 3 at home. She mistakenly asked me if I would take a certain amout for it, assuming I was the owner. I told her I wasn't the owner but I had already asked to buy it at that price and the owner refused. When she stated that she didn't want to go any higher, I was relieved. I said "Great, I will buy the kayak and you can use it until March when I head back to Ohio." Well, she liked that idea and we exchanged phone numbers in the driveway. Since then we have gone kayaking together and have become buddies.

My garage-sale kayak doesn't clutter Phyliss's garage any longer as she has since bought 2 new kayaks, one of which she loaned me for its maiden voyage when I had some friends visiting. Isn't this a nice exchange of trust? I have since learned that Phyliss, a mom with 2 young children, sports a long history of surfing. Her boards are stored next to her shiny new kayaks in her garage and she has offered to teach me how to surf!

I did pretty dang well that day garage-saling, wouldn't you agree? An ol' surfer with a big heart and vivacious spirit is a pretty unique find. You never know what you might pick up at a garage sale!

Step-It-Up A Notch

2008-01-21T11:26:00.000-08:00

Cheryl and year-round Floridian, Kornelia, kayaking on the Indian River, Vero Beach, Florida

Walking and jogging at Olander Park, Sylvania, Ohio

While I am spending the winter in Florida, I am hanging out with some new-found friends who live in Florida year round. It is amusing that they will spend their evenings at home cuddled up in a blanket on the couch. Meanwhile, I am outside in shorts and bare feet. Yesterday I went kayaking with two year-round residents who were dressed in long pants and fleece jackets. I was in shorts and bare feet again. Afterwards, when we were were making plans for our next paddle, one of them suggested that we wait until it warms up a bit. It was 71 degrees! (Kornelia has since corrected me that with the wind-chill factor it was much colder....about 62 degrees!)

It's what we get use to, isn't it? In Toledo I will spend November and December evenings on the couch wrapped up in a blanket even though I am next to a blazing wood burner. We just need to burrow a bit; the shorter days and longer nights are our bio-rhythmic signal to slow down regardless of the ambient air temperature.

We have been gaining day light since the winter solstice nearly a month ago, so it is time to step-it-up a notch. It is important for the body to start moving more again. Get outside a bit. The outdoor air is essential to clear our heads and fill our lungs with "essence of oxygen." It will invigorate you.

There are several ways to get outside in winter in the Toledo area.
The Metroparks (metroparkstoledo.com) has dozens of trails to walk or cross-country ski, and believe me, I miss those opportunities to ski (but I did go 5 times before leaving for Florida).
Olander Park in Sylvania has a walking program called the Frosty 150 which runs until April 30. It is an honor incentive program with an achievement award extended to those who complete the milage. Pick up a log at the information box outside Nederhouser Community Hall or phone 419-882-8313 (olanderpk.com).
The Sylvania Senior Center has an indoor walking program which utilizes the Tam O'Shanter Sports Center. If you are 55 or older, whether you are from Sylvania or not, you can use the fitness center at the Sylvania Senior Center for free (419-885-3919). There is a volunteer fitness instructor from Wildwood Athletic Center who comes on Fridays from 12 to 1. She will help you get started on the weight machines and elipticals, teaching you proper form and routines to meet your goals. Say Hi! to Jill, it is so kind of her to give her time and expertise.

If you want to be with a fun bunch of people who go outdoors all the time regardless of the weather, become a member of Hosteling International-Toledo Area (www.hitoledo.org or phone the activities chair, Pat Squire 419-243-7680). It cost less than $30 for the year to have at least one free, planned outing each week, usually walking or bike riding. These people got me started riding bicycle, and now I am doing triathlons.

I want to mention Transformations Institute. I haven't done any of their programs, training or retreats yet, but I know the woman who started it, Pat Altvater, and she is dynamic. If you are looking at weight loss beyond dieting, she has a multi-media program to change behavior, choosing health for the mind, body, and spirit. There is a fitness connection, FIT, which you can find more information about on the web (www.transformationsinstitute.com)

Now you will have no excuse not to be ready to hike with me in the spring. We are going to do the 17 mile trail at Oak Openings Preserve on the 17th of April and May, and September and October. It's easy to remember the date, right? 17 miles on the 17th. I'll have a healthy lunch and energy bars to keep you going. (But I can figure a way for you to cut off at 8 miles if you insist!).

There are 2 backpacking trips coming up too; May 3-4, and October 11-12. These are for women only, experienced or not. Imagine completing the 17 mile trail in 2 days with a self-contained backpack loaded with tent, food, and clothing. If you are a decent walker and don't have back problems, you can do this. I've led dozens on this trail, ages 12 to 70.

Then we have an out-of-town cross-training camp. The best part about this is its location...in a home on a beautiful lake surrounded by woods in northern Michigan. This is for women of all abilities, and will include choices like mountain biking, running, swimming, nature hikes, kayaking,yoga and campfire chats about fitness, healthy foods, and athletic training. Joyce Donaldson, coach and Olympic triathlon officiator, will co-lead this fitness booster on May 29, 30, 31 and June 1. See www.eliteendeavors.com for more information or contact me at cherylmccormick@gmail.com.

I know of a sure way to keep me fit and that is to plan to enter one challenging athletic event per year. My goal is to do my best even if I have to walk to complete the event. This keeps me going with some training goals all year long. The frosting is sweet---being around sweaty athletes and being called one myself!

If you feel a little fearful of the cold, take the time to read the article "Personal Best: Too Cold to Exercise? Try Another Excuse" in the New York Times, Health/Fitness & Nutrition, January 17, 2008 (www.NYTimes.com). I fully agree with the physiologists....keep moving, the body generates the heat to keep you warm. Just stay dry and be aware of hazards like frostbite and hypothermia. Understand that cold air does not induce asthma; dry air does.

Step-it-up a notch and rev-up the body thermostat. The cool air will feel like a summer breeze on your rosy cheeks.

Calendar Butterfly 2008

2008-01-01T06:48:00.000-08:00

My husband and I were stacking firewood on the back porch a couple of days ago in below- freezing weather. Dan noticed a battered, brown butterfly on the ground. We took a closer look and could see the wings moving slowly. Apparently we had disturbed its overwintering site in the logs. Eager to get the wood loaded and consequently, without giving it much thought, I put the butterfly in a cool room in the house, tucking it into a plant, and I returned outside to finish loading wood.

Back indoors I had forgotten about the butterfly until a few minutes later when it fluttered weakly across my shoulder. There are 23 windows in the house. The butterfly, with no assistance, chose the window with the Christmas angel on the outdoor sill. Even in its slumbering condition, the butterfly was hard to approach with my camera. I did get these few photographs and researched it in a small guide book from the Ohio Division of Wildlife, Common Butterflies and Skippers of Ohio.

Don't the photos compare well with the guide book? It is a Mourning Cloak Butterfly (Nymphalis antiopa) which has a 3-4 inch wingspan. It prefers wooded habitat near water; my wooded yard with the watergarden and creek is similar. The flight period is April to September and it is a hibernating butterfly. Late summer adults may live eight months which is longer than any other Ohio non-hibernating resident. The mourning cloak is often seen on warm, sunny, early spring days flying around and basking in wooded clearings. One of its behavioral traits is that it is hard to approach and photograph, which I found to be true even in its sleepy state.

Once I realized that it was a hibernating butterfly (what else could it have been, duh?), I returned this little angel to the outdoors, gently covering it with some leaves under the porch decking. This New Year visitor reminded me of how much I will always have to learn about the natural world. Maybe it will remind me again in April while it basks near me as I'm stooped in the watergarden, whispering to me, "You are four months into 2008; are you any wiser yet?"

That's optimistic, but.........wishing you an optimistic year too!

A Partridge in a Bare Tree

2007-12-22T09:11:00.000-08:00

On the fifth day before Christmas, I loaded my truck to "give". Home-made wreaths were snuggled in the bed, teddy bears and dolls filled a big bag, and Christmas cassette tapes lined a basket. Yes, I was going to give all this away, but mind you, most of it was left-over. The wreaths were no-sells from my sale (see blog post below: A Tribute to Old Blue), the stuffed animals were like-new garage sale discards, and the Christmas music cassettes were replaced by CDs. No skin off my back except for the time I put into making the wreaths, a few supplies, and some bucks dropped at garage sales last summer.

I didn't know where I was going with this load except that I was thinking about people who had health issues piled on top of economic woes. The road I live on in the suburbs heads straight into the inner-city. The 12 miles should have been an easy drive, but I was feeling very uneasy. Where am I going? Why do I think people in the city would want these wreaths? Why am I afraid? Why do I feel foolish? Why in hell is it so hard to give to people that I am feeling something for? The only thing I liked about the drive was its sense of adventure.

Nearly a half-hour down the road I noticed a building with big letters on its side, something like Family Health Center. I turn into the parking lot thinking this is a really stupid idea. There weren't many cars in the lot and I didn't see a single person. Why am I here? "OK, just pull up in front of the entrance," something was directing me. "Now, get out of the truck," it persisted while I wanted to hide. So now what? There is still nobody around. "OK, walk around to the back end of the truck and put down the gate." I followed these silly directions while it seemed like I was the only person outdoors in the whole city that winter day.

Whoa!! The gate came down and the people came out... from buildings, cars, and taxi-cabs. I invited them to select a wreath assuring them that they were free. As they reached into the truck to pick out their personal favorite, I was stunned with their pleasure. In the urban greyness, these coils twisted with branches from my dying spruce tree and adorned with big red bows, looked magnificent; 100 times better than they had in my wooded suburban yard. These simple rings entwined with prickly spruce needles curved the complex, worried creases out of the recipients' faces and weaved them into awe-struck smiles. Meanwhile, the stuffed animals were shuffled through, finding new homes in the arms of gleeful young caregivers. I felt like Santa when a woman in a well-worn coat and missing her two front teeth came straight up to me with a specific request, "Do you have Oh Holy Night with no singing, just the music?" I filled her wish with a cassette tape that hadn't been played for years at home. In 10 minutes, even before the security guards arrived to see what was the flurry, everything was gone, gone in a hurry. How much easier can giving get?

What about receiving? Sometimes I feel hesitant about receiving---especially in accumulating more unnecessary stuff, and gifts perhaps given out of obligation. The parking lot wreath exchange was different. I joyfully accepted the unexpected robust hugs, the "God bless you, ma'am!" and "Merry Christmas" wishes. These givers waited in line, and I am not kidding you, to give me hugs! I made an enormous haul at this gift exchange.

So with the last bit of green from a dying, half-naked Blue Spruce tree, I drove myself into the scary woods of urbanocity. It was a poorly planned adventure, but very enriching. That's where true love gave to me......and I saw a partridge in a bare tree.

A Tribute to Old Blue

2007-12-06T09:59:00.000-08:00

A Tribute Looking for Warmth

Self-serve Christmas Wreath Stand

Painting of Old Blue Guarding Our Home

Do you see the painting of the cabin above? Look at the tall Blue Spruce to the left of the door. That is the tree that has guarded the front door of our home since we moved in 26 years ago. It is one of the reasons why we bought the house. We use to bend beneath it's branches to enter the little cabin, our first home. It watched us bring home two new-born babies. It guarded their growth and all our family's activities to and fro, beneath it's wings, for 26 years. Early on, as the family grew, we added on to the little cabin, ultimately building a large home in a U-shape around Blue Spruce. We thought we were preserving it, but we may have helped contribute to its demise......building too closely and smothering it to death. We thrived, and it died.

Sadly, this week we had to cut it down as 2/3 of it had already died. Two tree specialists from Savory Tree Service in Toledo, Matt and Brian, did a great job dropping this 70 foot giant so that it didn't go through the roof or windows. I pruned the green branches and my husband salvaged firewood, determined not to waste any bit of this friend. (see middle photo....self-serve Christmas wreath sales stand on our side-porch). As the tree specialists held their chain saws over the last section of felled trunk, it dawned on me how to pay my respects to this oldster.

The image was clear in my mind. I ran up to Matt and shouted over the noisy saws, "Wait! Could you just leave this section lay as it is, and plane the top couple of inches off instead?" Matt was skilled with the saw and smiled when I invited him to do the chainsaw art. In five minutes I had an eight foot bench which nobody was going to move - ever! The trunk had homed itself right next to its stump, on an inviting angle to the front door. I further suggested that the remaining stump be leveled off. Now I have a table at one end of the bench!

In the spring when it warms up, I will sand the bench and table and protect them with a sealant.......maybe. What I really look forward to doing is sitting on the bench. I want to watch the tulips break through the earth near its base. I want to use its table to hold my cup and give thanks for the 26 years of wellness we've had as it stood over us. Maybe Old Blue will feel honored that my little bottom is warming its big heart-wood. Ya think?

Girlfullness Goes Whitewater Kayaking

2007-11-13T09:14:00.000-08:00

Cheryl receiving instruction from Eric on the Youghiogheny River in SW Pennsylvania

Maria focusing on her next move

Cheryl enters the rapids with Tara coaching

Devin surfing a wave

Cheryl and Devin resting in an eddy

"Hi, I understand there is a whitewater kayaking trip this weekend.....I thought I might come along!," I playfully exclaimed as I entered my son Devin's classroom at Ohio University where he is a second-year student. It was fun to see the students turn in union with surprised expressions and chuckles when they heard this voice projected from the doorway. It was more fun to watch them rotate toward the front of the room in anticipation of how their professor would respond to this unannounced guest. It was most fun to watch this respected, middle-age professor at the head of the class stammer, "Well......well....well I suppose that would be alright."

This was not the scenario I expected when Devin invited me to come to class with him Thursday afternoon. Our plans to spend the weekend together got shipwrecked when he was required to attend a 3-day whitewater kayaking trip over Parent's Weekend, but we were satisfied with having Thursday afternoon and Friday morning together. I explained to the professor that I was just kidding when I suggest that I come along. He said he felt bad that he had planned this trip before he realized it was Parent's Weekend, and assured me that it would be ok since the class wasn't full. Wow! Now I am surprised!

Friday morning I did a one-stop shopping spree at the local thrift shop to outfit myself with water shoes, swimsuit, and non-cotton clothing. The professor, Mr. D, and his assistants had already loaded a kayak, paddle, helmet, skirt, wetsuit, life vest, and tent for me. I climbed aboard at 1 pm as a passenger in one of two vans loaded with students and graduate assistants. An unplanned adventure ahead....all because I dared to be girlfully playful! This youthful feeling was supported by the welcome I received by some of the students who were amused that I actually wanted to come. They laughed at the thought of their moms white-water kayaking. I did wonder to myself why there were only 2 girls in this class.

I had never been whitewater kayaking before but felt excited about expanding my skills. I had some experience in big water like ocean bays and Great Lake shorelines, but most of my limited time in kayaking the last two years has been in small inland lakes and slow rivers. Now I would get familiar with different styles of kayaks and kayaking, have a guided trip to another area of the country, receive hands-on instruction with talented and confident instructors, extend my camping season with a full moon to boot, and savor time with my son without cell phones and campus commotion.

We travelled to southwestern Pennsylvania and set up camp on the shore of the Youghiogheny River. Saturday morning we suited up and I was thankful that one of the female students, Cassie, who has taken a class before, offered me a special shirt to wear for warmth under the wetsuit. We spent most of the day on the river. We learned to ferry across fast water; to eddy-in where there was safe, quiet water behind boulders; to peel out or eddy-out into the fast, riled current with intent and focus; to surf a wave with finesse, not power; to use the hips, knees and paddles to face gaping, roaring holes; and most importantly how to muster the courage to face it all again after recovering from a few long seconds upside down underwater.

On Sunday we practiced it all again. Maria, another female student, had never been in a kayak before this trip. She rolled with the dozens of unintended Eskimo rolls, smiling more as she gained proficiency and confidence. I admired her courage. I was admired in turn by Tara, a female instructor, who complimented me on my efforts to try something new and thought it was so cool that I came along. I admit, I was scared alot, and often.

I am grateful to Mr. D for taking a chance on an woman whose skills he did not know, to the instructors for patiently sharing their expertise and keeping me and my son safe, and to my son, Devin, for his bravery not only on the river but also on land where he could have been ridiculed by his peers for letting his mom hang out with him all weekend.

Also I am thankful for the students' exuberant and courageous spirits which brought me a little closer to my own youthfulness. I am thankful for my general fitness which let me enjoy 3 days of unplanned activity and lead a 17-mile hike on Monday morning after 4 hours of sleep. This is a lot to be thankful for, but really, to play, like decades ago, in a brilliantly authentic and absorbing manner, with curiosity and courage..... this is the gift. This is girlfullness and its' spirit runs deep and clear. Peel out, girls!

Oak Openinigs Backpacking Opens Lives

2007-10-24T03:20:00.000-07:00

"I have a problem, I never put up a tent before," confessed Darlene, age 56, on the other end of the line. I assured her that's what the weekend adventure was for -- beginners. Another caller asked, "What do we do if it rains while we are hiking?" My one word response "walk" hung in silence until this 47 year old decided she would check the weather again and call me back.
These were some of the concerns the women brought with them when we gathered Saturday morning, October 20, at Oak Openings Preserve (www.MetroparksToledo.com) to stage our two-day backpacking trip.
Eight of us, ages 12 to 57, met at the park and after a discussion about opportunities in backpacking, hostelling travel (the weekend was co-sponsored by Hostelling International, www.hitoledo.org), using Metropark trails for fitness and pleasure, safety, and the weekend's itinerary, we were fitted with gear. Two hours later, our packs fully equipped with tents, sleeping bags, pads, food, mess-kit, stove, first-aid and other supplies, we excitedly hit the trail fully self-contained. A short two-day trip meant we were only carrying 25 to 30 pounds each, but we did have longer average daily distances than what most beginners would attempt, 8 to 9 miles instead of 5 to 7 miles. This allowed us to complete the entire historic 17-mile scout trail plus an additional leg to our remote camping spot.
So how did it go? The mileage went fast the first day as we talked while we walked in order to learn about our new friends. After lunch at Evergreen Lake, the kids and one of the moms were climbing trees....a good indication that there was easily enough reserve to get to camp and set-up tents before dark. After pitching the four two-man tents in the pines, we built a cook fire. Burritos packed with black beans, rice, cheese and fresh cilantro were accented by candlelight for dinner and the campfire toasted our sticky dessert perfectly, enticing us to eat
"s'more". What was most eerie.....the coyote-like call in the nearby woods, the scary story, or the noise back by the outhouse?
There was less talking on Sunday and more focus on completing mileage. We took breaks while LaRae, a naturalist, spoke about the unique features and habitat of the globally-rare Oak Openings. Lunch put hikers flat out on the grass with bare-feet perched over backpacks. But no complaints! I'm proud of you ladies!
Everyone finished in great shape with a potpourri of memorable experiences:
Emma talked her mom, Barb, into sleeping without the fly over the tent so they could view the stars; McKinzie liked the gnome-home deep in the pines; Stephanie had the strength to carry extra gear for others; Darlene slept in a tent and sleeping bag for the first time; Mary still had enough energy to attend swim practice Sunday night; LaRae enhanced everyone's experience with her knowledge of the Oak Opening Preserve; and Cheryl? Well, I had another delightful chance to see women accomplish something they had never done before, and find themselves living simply and closely with the land. Oh, by the way, can you believe one of these ladies had never roasted marshmallows over an open-fire? Ah, the simple life!
Group photo around sign (left to right):
Darlene Dunn, Barb Cubbon-Beale, Emma Beale,
Mary Ensman, Stephanie Micham,
McKinzie Smith, LaRae Sprow, Cheryl McCormick

Frog Town

2007-10-18T05:42:00.000-07:00

Lately I have been doing a lot of work helping home owners close their water gardens for the winter. The plants have to be cut back, debris cleaned off the bottom or drained completely, the filter and pump cleaned and stored properly, and the water garden covered with a net if there are a lot of deciduous trees nearby. This can be a mucky job and I guess that is one reason why people hire me. But I have been enjoying the work. The owners often help or visit with me while I work; sharing their lives, their gardens, and sometimes their homes and home-made cookies! But even if nobody is around I always have company.
Frogs. I can't believe the numbers. They don't seem too worried about me invading their habitat, and once they get accustomed to me will even come closer and watch me work. They are usually green frogs (rana clamitans melanota) but on occasion, if there is a nearby farm pond, I will find bullfrogs (rana catesbeiana). Last week there were 3 bullfrogs nearly the length of my boot in one pond, but I didn't have my camera with me to show you. The easiest way to distinuish between a green frog and a bullfrog, besides a bullfrog being nearly twice the size of a green frog (up to 6 in. compared to 2 1/4 - 3 1/2 in.), the green frog has two pronounced ridges down the length of its back. The green frog will utter a short, high pitched cry when it is disturbed and jumps. When I entered that pond last week with the bullfrogs, they stayed put and looked like baby alligator heads mixed in the lily pads and rocks.
The pond owners are delighted to have frogs in their backyard habitat. They usually have fish which they have purchased but none of owners have intentionally put tadpoles or frogs in their water gardens. So where do all the frogs come from? Well, Toledo isn't called Frog Town for nothin'! Toledo is in Northwest Ohio, site of the Great Black Swamp. This is a glacially-caused wetland, which has been drained and mostly converted to farm land in the last 120 years. There are still some natural swamps, marshes and creeks, plus miles of man-made drainage ditches and hundreds of farm, recreational, and drainage ponds. These all provide habitat for frogs and nearly every backyard is within 1/2 mile of one of these. Those rainy days and nights help the frogs migrate through wet lawns. Also, frog eggs may have been deposited by birds which visit the water gardens or attached to plants which the home owner purchased and placed in their water garden. The only complaint I ever hear about the frogs is that it sometimes is too noisy to sleep with so many frogs calling on warm spring nights. Wouldn't you enjoy staying awake for that symphony? I bet water gardeners in drought-ridden States would.

The Chicago Marathon was Hot!

2007-10-07T18:39:00.000-07:00

If you haven't heard and have any interest in marathons, you will hear that today's 26.2 mile race in Chicago was one that broke many records, but they weren't time related. It was a record breaking scorcher of 87 degrees and high humidity. Runners were begging for water and walking as early as 5 miles into the race. I saw many leave the course in Lincoln Park to stand in line at a public drinking fountain, and others left the course for a few splashes to wet their heads at an ornamental fountain and they still had 21 miles to go. It was tough day for the 45,000 runners and not so easy either for the 1.5 million spectators on the sunny sidelines. I rode bicycle along most of the course but was stalled often due to the crowd and never connected with Livia, my daughter, until she was finished.
Livia crossed the finish line in 4 hours and 8 minutes, a very respectable time in the best of conditions, but she really wanted to break 4 hours. In the last mile of her run, she heard the police tell the runners to walk, that it was just a fun run. Livia couldn't understand why in hell they would call this run fun, and determined to complete it with the gumption she had given it the previous 25 miles, ignored their plea to walk. She didn't realize that the race had been canceled due to so many emergency calls and lack of water on the course. They diverted slower runners through a huge short-cut and Livia couldn't figure out why so many runners were coming in to the finish line from the opposite direction. It got very confusing; runners were collapsing left and right. One of Livia's friends who was watching the race near mile 21, caught a woman who collapsed in his arms and observed 4 others fall nearby. I honestly didn't see anybody collapse but I was near the front of the group where perhaps the runners were better trained and had access to more water to drink and pour over themselves. I stopped twice while riding my bicycle to help give water to runners which was hurriedly made available with hoses running out of local restaurants. The runners looked like they had been roaming the desert for days, and I couldn't believe that nearly every one of them thanked us.
I want to catch the news soon to get the details. All in all, I think it was a great event, with thousands of volunteers, cheering crowds, polite and friendly spectators, an unbelievable force of determined athletes, in a remarkable city along the shore of Lake Michigan. I hope the news doesn't mar my appreciation of this record-breaking marathon, a hot one for sure.

17 Mile Hike

2007-10-03T05:01:00.000-07:00

What a day! Five women, ages 26 to 63, completed the 17 mile scout trail at Oak Openings Preserve Metropark near Toledo, and one woman walked 8 miles.
The pace was steady, but the rain was steadier. It was hard to talk over the rain sometimes, but there was a lot of conversation and laughter which helped the miles roll. The exception was the last 2 miles in which each of us seemed to be holding our whines about tired legs, wet bodies, and general weariness to ourselves. "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all" prevailed.
The trees didn't offer much color on this first day of October, but we couldn't overlook the color of the fungus which Karolina posed next to.
We all finished strong, cheers and high-fives extended (and one low-dive from Patty!), completing early enough in the day (2:40 pm) and with enough energy to enjoy the afternoon at home in the SUN! Karolina (from Poland) and Jenny (from Ireland) were not planning on missing their Latin dance lesson in the evening. I'd say they were cramming a lot of culture into one day....spending 6 hours during the day walking 17 miles with a group of wild American women in the forests, floodplains, and prairies of the globally-rare Oak Openings region, and moving to a different rhythm in the evening dancing with Latino friends to the rumba, samba and salsa. Isn't life refreshing when we step out!
Congratulations (in order of descending age!) to Judy, Patty, Mary, Karolina, and Jenny.....I sure enjoyed spending the day with women who demonstrate Out is In! and Fitness is Fun!

Training for the Chicago Marathon

2007-09-22T13:30:00.000-07:00

The Chicago Marathon is coming up on October 7th. My daughter Livia, who lives in Chicago, decided several months ago to do it. She has kept a very rigorous training schedule all summer. I know she just completed a 20-mile training run last weekend. She said it was fun because a large group did this run, and some of the course passed along the shores of Lake Michigan. There was music and food afterwards, but I don't think it would be worth the effort even if there was a lot of chocolate!
I want to show you these photos I shot of Livia when she was Up-North in Michigan with us at the end of August. I know Livia has been training hard, but does anyone have the right to look this good after running 13 miles on hilly, dirt roads in 85 degree heat?
This won't be her first marathon. She did one in the spring of 2004, in Tennessee, I think. And she did another one before that in which I remember the date and location very well. It was in May, in London, in 1982. She was born 5 months later. You don't have to be an obstetrician to figure whose legs hauled her across the 26 miles of cobbled, pub-lined streets of London-town. And if you can't figure this, I will tell you for certain, that those legs never, ever did it again!
But I am forever thankful that they carried her for 9 months, and it is certain that those ol' legs will be dancing a jig in Chicago-land when Livia McCormick crosses the finish line October 7 th.

Paddling Festival

2007-09-19T10:30:00.000-07:00

I attended The Hiawatha Paddling Festival last weekend. As I'm just beginning to get into coastal kayaking (ocean and Great Lakes), I thought it would be useful to learn more about it in a fun, safe way. This event was held in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan in Les Cheneaux Islands of Lake Huron. Jessie Hadley, owner of Woods & Water Ecotours, organized the event, and she did a great job. There were very good instructors, a wonderful place to stay on the shore of a bay, good food, and a program packed with learning about gear, first-aid and survival, and fitness exercises for paddlers. The evenings had enjoyable and informative programs about nature and kayak-travel, music, sauna, and campfire.
Hands-on, we learned paddle strokes and rescues. Of course the rescues meant getting in the 57 degree water; even with a neoprene wet suit, it was chilly. Jessie loaned me a sea kayak, 17 feet long and very skinny, much different than my wide, tanky Hobie. So I got to ride waves higher than I'm accustomed to on the small inland lakes and that skinny sea kayak handled them well.

There were more women than men at this event. What intrigues me about this group though, is that the majority of participants chose to camp when the fee for indoor accommodations was only $12 more per night. And we had cold nights, one with frost. I didn't hear any complaining in the mornings; just suiting up to jump in the cold water. Awesome outdoorsy people, this kayaking lot. Guess they know, out is in, even if it's in cold water!

Photos: Jessie Hadley, owner of Woods & Water Ecotours, with her kayak trailer.
Prentiss Bay on Lake Huron where Hiawatha Paddle Festival was held.

A Walk in the Weather

2007-09-10T15:21:00.000-07:00

Mary, Peggy, and I were spending some time together Up-North in Michigan. We decided to walk to the site of the eagle's nest which they had never seen. You can drive there by dirt road from the house which would be a 6-mile round trip. We wanted a little more adventure, so we agreed to take the trails through the state forest. Since I don't know my way through the forest, except to lead by compass with a south and easterly bearing, and the maps don't have these trails marked, I could not inform them of what distance to expect. The brave souls still agreed to go.

We walked with several layers of clothing, rain gear, binoculars, raisins and energy bars. The weather got warm, it got cool. It got sunny, it got drenchy. It got calm, it got windy. It even got sunny and rainy and windy and calm all at the same time. We went up-hill, down-hill; we added clothing, took off clothing. We turned right, we turned left (we turned wrong also!). We walked through dry sand and muddy puddles. At one point Mary complimented Peggy on being so positive and non-whiny. Mary admitted to whining because she didn't like walking "aimlessly." I corrected that we weren't aimless; we were heading in a south and easterly direction.
After 3 1/2 hours I finally recognized an intersection of 2 dirt roads. Now, in a pouring rain, we had a decision. Should we continue walking further in a south easterly direction to the nest, or should we take the direct route home? It was Mary who most emphatically wanted to continue, since we weren't aimlessly "lost" any longer!
I had seen the eagle's nest three times in the last year, and it was always active with adults and young. Guess what......this time there were no eagles; there was only a skeleton of a nest. You could still see the framework of it's original 10 ft. span in the crown of a dead tree perched high above the surrounded forest, meadow, and wetlands. What I like about Mary and Peggy, is that they weren't disappointed, but appreciative of the remaining stick structure, advantageous site, and remote location.
Tired and ready to return home, we turned north-westerly and took the shortest route. We were nearly home when we saw an eagle fly over. We laughed. We could have stayed home, sipping "tea" on the covered porch, with our dry feet propped up, our heads and backs supported by hammocks, casually gazing into the sky and maybe, maybe notice the eagle fly over. But NO outdoorsy women would do that. Outdoorsy women walk 5 hours and 12 miles through 3 seasons of weather on a September afternoon and bring back wet feet, tired bodies, and experiential memories to know..........to know what, you may ask? To know that the eagle flew over the cuckoo's nest!

Mackinac Bridge Walk

2007-09-08T04:58:00.000-07:00

Fifty-seven thousand people, myself included, walked across the Mackinac Bridge last Monday, Labor Day. Labor Day is the only day each year in which walkers are allowed on the bridge. We start at the north end of the 5 mile bridge span in St. Ignace, Michigan and walk to the south terminal in Mackinaw City. Even though it is up-hill the first half of the walk, and down-hill the second, you don't notice the change much as it is amusing to watch all the people......big and little, young and old, abled and disabled. What I was most excited about though, were the 50 swimmers which were allowed this year, one for each year since the bridge was built in 1957. The 5 mile distance and cold water are grand considerations, but I don't imagine they expected such a current. Even though the Straits (water area between Lake Michigan and Lake Huron) was relatively calm, the swimmers were stroking at a diagonal in order to swim parallel to the bridge. It was amazing to watch them come in. Congratulations to all walkers and swimmers!

Lingering at Hall Road Bridge

2007-08-31T06:49:00.000-07:00

My husband, Dan, and I completed a 13 mile kayak day-trip on the Thunder Bay River in northern Michigan, exiting at the Hall Road Bridge. Earlier we had spotted a bicycle at the take-out next to the bridge, and while Dan rode the bike back to the car I had some time to linger.

I walked out to the center of the bridge on Hall Road, a little-used dirt road surrounded by state forest. I don't know what got into me, but it sure looked like it would be fun to jump off the bridge into the fast current which winnowed through the narrow culvert under the bridge. I decided the 12 foot jump would be foolish, not knowing if there were rocks below the current and no one to help if needed. Damn, if I didn't hear that nagging old voice, "Get serious Cheryl, you don't have the courage anyway."
I stepped back from the edge and noticed far down the road a group of 5 people walking abreast. It was a slow, lazy, summer stroll and as they finally got close enough I could see 5 teenage girls with towels wrapped around their waists. Well, at least I will be able to go swimming safely in the company of others, I assured myself. But instead, these rough-talking, spit-chucking girls walked to the center of the bridge where they made themselves comfortable resting on the guard rail. After a few minutes of lively and loud banter, 3 of them took off their towels and without much hesitation jumped into the river. They must have seen the glee on my face because they asked me if I would like to do it. "M a y b e......" , I coward. "You can get between us. We will hold your hand and jump together," the girl who spat the most figured. Not wanting to give up all control, I suggested that I just stand at the jump-off point and try it alone. So I was alone, on the edge. Two girls were below in the water to catch me, two girls were at the top to coach me, and one girl had my camera to get a shot. It looked more scary now that I was actually prepping myself for a jump. I hee-hawed around, until the girl who spat the most shouted, "Come on! You only live once!" I don't know why that remark from some young person who didn't even know me pissed me off, but it made me decide that I wasn't going to go to bed that night and feel disappointed that I didn't jump. So I sent myself off the edge, not a forceful leap but a step into a youthful burst of fun. It seemed like I would never hit the water. They caught me, pulling me from the center of the current, cheered, and gave me hugs. Then they led me by the hand through the slick culvert and fast current under the bridge to the other side where we played in the current. They were so sweet, protective and fun, their natural selves, I'm sure.

Still there were two girls who hadn't jumped yet, the two who spat the least. They wanted to do it and held hands at the jump-off point. For ten minutes they approached the edge, looked over it, backed up, chanted one-two-three, and went nowhere. Getting tired of this routine and shivering in the water below as one of the catchers, I finally hollered, "Come on! You only live once. You're not going to wait until you are 57 to do this, are you?" That did it. They jumped...and they yelled much louder than I did! Group hug.
By the time my husband got back, I was all by myself again. I asked him how the bike ride was. He said he enjoyed a beautiful, quiet ride through the forest. I didn't doubt it. He asked me what I did while I waited for him. I told him I jumped off the bridge with a bunch of new girlfriends. He didn't doubt it. He must know something about girls!

Love is in the Air

2007-08-19T15:04:00.000-07:00

This was not the easiest heart to catch from a floating inner tube with a pocket digital camera. It was easier catching my husband 35 years ago. Today, we celebrate our 35th anniversary and we are still enjoying blue skies!

So, what are these contortionist doing making hearts in the blue sky? It is a mating pair of damselflies. They can fly around like this too. Wouldn't that be fun....add a little spice to a relationship?

Do you know the difference between a damselfly and a dragonfly? They both are aquatic insects, with most of the 407 species in North America laying eggs and passing the larval stage in the water. The adults are often brightly colored, which is uncommon among aquatic insects. The adults can catch and eat their prey while flying around, and happily their most common food source are mosquitoes, black flies, and other biting flies.
The larvae look entirely different than the adults, kind of like a caterpillar to a butterfly. I haven't taken any photos of the larvae, even though I often find them in the water gardens. The illustration of the larvae is from A Guide to Commom Freshwater Invertebrates of North America by J. Reese Voshell.
The easiest way to tell the difference between a dragonfly and a damselfly is to notice how they rest. The damselfly holds its wings together extended above the body and the dragonfly outstretches its wings from the side of the body. In flight, the damselfly is delicate and a more feeble flier. The dragonfly is bulkier and flies more boldly. They are both beautiful and will not hurt you.
This summer, while you visit a lake, pond, river, or water garden, be prepared if one of these beneficial insects lands on you, even consider keeping a magnifying glass close by. Hold still, look at its huge eyes with 10,000 facets, observe its lacy wings, and admire its colors. Maybe it will even turn it's head 360 degrees. Bet that's a lot further than any human has ever turned its head for you, even with love in the air!

Water Lily Time

2007-08-18T15:00:00.000-07:00

I got into a few water gardens this week to take care of the plants, fix a waterfall, clean a filter, and adjust a fountain. The water is warm and it is very pleasant work, though some of it was challenging problem solving.

I would like to share with you some photos I shot while I was in the water garden at the Toledo Botanical Garden. These photos were taken a couple of weeks ago, but there are still many water lilies blooming. These are the hardy northern, as opposed to tropical, variety which bloom during the afternoon. I hope you will make time to visit the Toledo Botanical Garden. It has 60 acres of display gardens and plant collections, including perennial, aquatic, shade, daylily, cottage, vegetable, hosta, rose, English, and more. Much is in full bloom now. It is open daily, 8 am to 8 pm, and is free. For more information, check http://www.toledogarden.org

Consider a garden stroll next time you want to get a little exercise. The quiet and beauty will nourish you, besides taking in all that good air for your lungs. Oh, if you do go to the Toledo Botanical Garden, be sure to see my baby.....the water garden next to the gazebo in the shaded woodland garden.

Done for Another Year

2007-08-13T09:06:00.000-07:00

I'm done. I completed the Sylvania olympic length triathlon yesterday, the only one I do every year. I always feel relieved, lighter (literally), and healthier for it. The draw-back to this mid-August triathlon is the realization that there won't be many more days of simplified clothing, bare feet, and outdoor swimming. But I feel good!
I'm happy with my time (3:08:23) and with my recovery. I came in fourth in my age group and received a medal. I am thankful that I completed the event in the heat without complications, and I wasn't ashamed to walk when I felt too overheated to run. It was exciting to be with 900 athletes from 32 states, some of the athletes being world class. You can view the results at http://www.eliteendeavors.com
So after a day of rest, it is time to scrub off the body markings, hang the medal, and get back to work. More so, I want to feel the still-warm earth under my bare feet without thinking about running, to swim the still-warm waters with all the joy and grace of a relaxed frame, and to reap the benefits of a stronger mind and body on whatever roads I cross.
It is so nice to be done, but not finished!

Amy says, "It's a Celebration"

2007-08-11T17:53:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow is the triathlon. I always feel nervous before this event even though it is my eighth time. The weather is suppose to be in the upper 80's to mid-90's and humid. That makes it tougher for me since I have a problem dissipating heat. The 1 mile swim will be fine, the 26 mile bicycle can be tolerable with the air cooling the skin, but the run......I have decided to take an umbrella and walk the 6 miles if I have to.
I remember three years ago standing on the beach with hundreds of other athletes donning swim caps and goggles preparing for the start. Many were jumping and shaking, trying to stay warm in the 7:30 am coolness and release some nervous tension. I noticed one woman who appeared to be relaxed, with a smile gracing her pretty, 30-something face. It made sense to me that I should hang next to her and catch her vibes, like some kind of athletic strategy. I had seen her at some of the training swims and knew her name was Amy. Wanting to know her secret, I inquired, "Amy, don't you get nervous before these events?" She turned to me with a bigger smile and total confidence. "No," she replied. "This is the day I look forward to. This is a culmination of all the hard training I've done and now I can see what I can do. It's a celebration!"
Those few words have helped me get through some hard training runs and bike rides, but I intentionally pull them to the front of my mind when I'm nervously anticipating the start, when I am hitting the brick in transition from the bike to the run, and especially on the run when I am most tired and wanting to quit. Then I hear Amy coming up behind me on the run. I know it is Amy even before I see her. It is a springy, higher pitched sound I hear, different than the heavy thud of a running shoe. Amy has one leg and a substitute prosthesis for the other. You may find that inspiring, but you really should see her joyful bounce and hear her cheerful reminder when she passes me by, "It's a celebration Cheryl!" That's the pull I need. Thanks, Amy.

Kayaks and Fear

2007-08-10T15:40:00.001-07:00

Hmmmm.......it's been working out pretty well this summer. I've had two girlfriends visit me up-north on two different occasions, both who said they would never get in a kayak.

Eve, 56, came from London where she has lived for 30 years. She had some kind of mishap in a boat when she was young and she thought she was going to drown. She was yellin' scared about going in the kayak when I suggested it.

Mary Jo, 57, the best stay-at-home mom of five lovely, now-grown children, has never had an interest in the outdoors and hates bugs, birds, and anything else that moves in the natural world (we ask ourselves how we could be friends for 38 years). It is amazing that she agreed to come to my house up-north in the "wild" and more, to try out the kayak.

Look at these women! City Girl and Super Mom both got out there......and each went kayaking again by themselves, with no prompting. They became very relaxed on the water. Watch 'em, soon they'll have their feet up like me in my blue roller. Mary Jo even got brave
enough to sit outside in the "wild" to watch the sun set. Bravo, Ladies!

He Made Me Do It

2007-08-09T04:34:00.000-07:00

It seems so much has to be squished into our short summer season. Having returned recently from a vacation up-north, I was busy with work, home, and training. My husband Dan, who spends alot of time looking at maps and reading about places when he isn't working, was bugging me again to take another little trip. He really had to work on me this time, but I finally relented and in less than 2 days we were off to the UP (upper peninsula of Michigan). We loaded our kayaks, camp gear, and food, then drove and ferried over to Drummond Island in northern Lake Huron and did a kayak 6-day mini-adventure. I have some photos to show you, but Dan isn't going to let me tell you exactly where we went because he caught alot of big fish that he released and hopes to catch again. I caught a lot of time with a very quiet natural world, pursuing otter, beaver, deer, butterflies, fossils, snakes, frogs, and flowers with my little pocket digital camera. I would love to tell you exactly where we were, but the best I can do is show you photos and wish you the kind of fortune I have.....someone to make you get out there. Out is In!

Photos:
Cheryl kayaking on Lake Huron
Dan kayak-sailing with a deer on shore
Where in the world is this campsite?
Cheryl warming up after a swim
Dan in a hurry to release the small-mouth bass
Playing with 3 otter
Monarch butterfly

All-Women Triathlon

2007-07-29T15:35:00.000-07:00

Well, I did it today. I had never planned on doing more than one triathlon per year since I started doing them when I turned 50. That seems to be enough to keep me strong and healthy. But I had heard lots of great comments about this new format...a women's only triathlon of a sprint distance (400 yard swim, 12 mile bike, 3 mile run). Last year's participants told me it was fun, well-organized, well-mannered, and had good food! They said it was inspiring to see so many women of so many ages, sizes, and abilities setting themselves up for something new, and most are new to the sport. But interest is growing. Last year, the first year for this event in the Toledo area, there were 230 racers. This year it closed out at 350. I knew the race directors, Joyce and Jim Donaldson and their Elite Endeavor crew, had a good reputation and lots of experience in managing complicated events like a triathlon, so I had to "tri" it.
And I tried hard. I won my age group, 55-59. There were two things that I found striking. One, I never heard so many "I'm sorry" and "Excuse me" pardons in my life, and two, this Sprint distance (less than half the olympic distance I usually do) is begging me to switch over. You see, I have enough energy in reserve to brag. Do you see the photo of my trophy?
You can see the race results and more information about Elite Endeavor events at www.eliteendeavors.com.
You might get inspired and decide to try a "tri" too!

3 Little Dippers

2007-07-29T14:32:00.000-07:00

Two girlfriends and I completed our annual "girls only" swim a couple of weeks ago. Usually the three of us swim together every Sunday in a local pool on the master's swim team. The coach directs us and the other team members how to make our free, back, and breast-strokes more efficient and powerful. We work hard for an hour with drill and speed laps, always rewarded with a relaxed body and mind for Sunday evening's weekend wind-down. We also have become much stronger and confident swimmers, propelling us in challenging events like triathlons.
But once a year the three of us want to try something different; a more unique kind of swimming experience. A night swim, to be precise....naked, to be more precise. We drop our clothes on the shore, swim 1/8 mile to the opposite shore, run back around to our stack of clothing before finding our way through the dark to the unofficial exit. We doggy-paddle so we can gaze at stars, giggle, and spurt whispered exclamations, "It's so beautiful!" "It's so quiet out here!" "Look at the Big Dipper!"
Yes, we feel playful, girlish, and skinny, like the 3 little dippers we are.
(Photos omitted: just imagine 3 little dippers smiling at one Big Dipper)

A Bear of a Run

2007-07-28T13:14:00.000-07:00

Oh, I dread the day when I have to do the long run. (See Blog title "Natural Talents") Each year I try to get one 6-mile training run in, the distance I must run in the olympic- length triathlon I challenge myself to each August. I was on vacation up-north and I decided to run around the lake. A real runner would be thrilled with this convenient,10K, out-the-door, fantastically beautiful route through the forest and along the shore on trails and dirt roads. "Alright, let's get this over with," was my bummer attitude. I checked the clock on the garage wall before I left: 8:57 a.m.
When I was 3 miles into my run, there were two trucks parked on the road and a couple of guys walking slowly in the road, looking down. I stopped to see what they were looking for. Bear Tracks! I drew a circle in the sand around some of them, with the intention of returning to get some photos. But first I had to run all the way back home, and since I was half-way around the lake, there was no short route. I ran, and fast, I think. I can hardly remember the hills, the heat, the distance. I was determined to get a photo before a car ran over the tracks. I hurried in the house to fetch my camera and a ruler, and mounted my bicycle to return as quickly as possible. I did it! See the photos! I also learned from these bear hunters much about bear behavior, diet, and habitat, and that the location for the State of Michigan record bear (32 1/8 skull size) is less than 2 miles from my house.
How long did it take me to do the 6-mile run? Does it matter? I enjoyed that run!

Early Bird Morning

2007-07-27T13:02:00.000-07:00

I was taking the compost out before 7 a.m. this morning, when a lot of commotion stirred up just as I was passing under the tall, virgin pine on the way to the compost bin. The squirrels were chattering, the song birds squealing, the loons wailing, and then I heard that high pitch call of the eagle. No wonder! I watched the eagle as well as I could from 80 feet below and decided to get my camera, a little Sony Cyber-shot digital pocket camera. Not too hopeful about getting a good shot, but I do have one to show you. And then it flew over the lake and you can barely see it on the left side of the second photo.
It was a beautiful morning, before the sun burnt off the fog, so I took one more photo to show you what prize awaits the early bird, even on a walk to the compost bin.

No Shortcut

2007-07-25T14:07:00.000-07:00

One summer morning while I was studying the county map of the area where our home is located in northern Michigan, it occurred to me that the Amish grocery store is directly south of our home via dirt roads. I wondered if I would be able to take this direct route, which when measured against the scale of miles on the map, would be 16 miles one way. This would save us 24 miles round trip and about $3 in gas each time we drove there. I decided to check it out on my bicycle first.
I gathered the map, compass, water bottle, energy bars and ID and headed south on my bike. The terrain was rolling through many square miles of state forest and dirt roads, but while I was on a more open section of road I was surprised by a bird attack......straight for my face. She didn't drop to the ground until I ducked and she was 2 feet from my helmet. I had noticed 3 small birds in the roadside grasses and this adult was protecting her young rather fiercely, I thought, as a drive-by cyclist. Quickly regaining my balance and breath, I cycled another 6 miles before I had dozens of dragon-flies flitting around me. I was surrounded by woods, but understood that these insects are dependant on water and there should be a source near-by. A few hundred more feet and I could see blue through small openings in the trees. It was worth breaking and the short walk through the woods to see this uninhabited lake and more dragon-flies than I had ever seen in one location. Shortly after this lake, the road became very sandy for a long distance and it was obvious that our car would never make it. Time to turn around, return home and chalk up another fun 17 mile bike ride that I could count as a triathlon training ride. Best of all though, I was inspired to create a mantle piece resembling the ground-dwelling bird that attacked me. I do love it when even dead-ends lead to something!
(Photo Credit: Cheryl McCormick)

Natural Talents

2007-07-23T19:56:00.000-07:00

Running is not a fitness choice of mine , but a necessary component of a triathlon. I have chosen to do one olympic-length triathlon (1mile swim, 26 mile bike, 6 mile run) per year. This helps me to stay strong and healthy all year and also helps to avoid injury through cross-training rather than concentrating on any one repetitive activity. Besides, all the components can be done outdoors which offers more interests and healthier air.
The other day I needed to pass through a school playground to return to my car after a 4-mile training run in a local park. I decided to check out the funny- mirror, something I use to love playing with as a kid visiting county fairs. Some would make me look tall and skinny, others would make me look short and fat, and they all made me laugh. The funny-mirror in the playground was the short and fat kind and it didn't make me laugh. It made me look exactly like I felt.....heavy and tired. Distance running always does that to me.
After that embarrassing photo I can proudly ask you to view the one of me swimming across the lake up-north, something I usually look forward to even when it is chilly. I move with ease, feel light and fluid, and am always invigorated when I finish. What a joy!
Have you given yourself enough play to figure out what you are good at, and the time to enjoy it?
(Photo Credit: Cheryl McCormick, Dan McCormick)

Inside or Out?

2007-07-16T18:58:00.000-07:00

We have a beautiful home on one of the cleanest lakes in northern Michigan. It was built by my husband's parents in 1979 and they lived there until they passed away in 2001 and 2002. We have held on to the home but have not relocated from Toledo where we built our own home in 1982-1985.
But look at this place up-north! "Up-north" is the name we endearingly give that house 254 miles north of our Ohio home. Each room has a door-wall and tremendous views of the lake or marsh which surround the island upon which it is nestled. The front deck extends to within 15 feet of the water's edge with a wide-screen view of the setting sun.
So why do I choose to sometimes sleep in a small tent outside the house? It's closer. Closer to the sounds of the frogs, owls, loons, eagles, song birds. Closer to the unexpected night visitors...deer, coyote, beaver, mink, otter, mice, flying squirrel, bear. Closer to the smell of the minerals in the water and the sweet fern upon the land. Closer to the full-moon's amazing brilliance, the morning sun's low-angled rays, and the fog lifting from the lake. Closer to the pure air and the organic earth to which I will ultimately resign this body in a supine position anyway.
Are you suggesting that I should sleep outdoors, under the stars, tentless? Ha! My friend Peggy did that. She woke during the night to feel a soft and furry bundle cuddled in the palm of her warm hand which was tucked deep into her sleeping bag. What is cool about warm Peggy is that she slept outside and tentless again on her next visit. Peggy knows, out is in!
(Photo Credit: Cheryl McCormick)