Today I went to hike in a place called Ice Glen. I was attempting to meet a young cohort and her younger charges.
I thought that I saw what was their car parked in well-to-do neighborhood with an address number, a an illegible sign and another beneath it saying "park here and walk". I didn't get our because I saw the address number and "private drive" and had already had to turn around due to a "PRIVATE DRIVE DO NOT ENTER" sign.
So, I re-searched and found what I thought were the correct directions near a park. This time I saw no car and assumed that they went to somewhere else or to an alternate entrance I didn't know of. There was a simple map if the trails outside that I could have snapped with my camera, but didn't. I went inside with my camera and headed over a bridge and up into the woods, opting to head up the red (harder) trail. I found a fork leading to the "Glen" or the "Tower". I elected to go for it an head up to the tower. The trail was definitely not for the casual, though I felt I managed it well. While closer to the bottom, I thought I should pick up a walking stick, but there I noticed nothing suitable and just decided that I could manage without it.
While making my way up Laura's Hill and listening for animals that might NOT be a chipmunk, squirrel or bird, I heard some voices and soon made out the group that I had hoped to catch. They told me the summit wasn't too far up and she asked if I'd found the Ice Glen. I told her that I'd go up and come do it on my way out. She mentioned that they had come in from what seemed to have been the first street I turned on
I summited, went up a shakey tower and headed back down. The decent seemed faster, but at some point unfamiliar. I felt like I was noticing paths I hadn't seen before. At one fork I backtracked to try to figure out where I was. When I thought I'd figured it out, I headed back in the direction that should pointed toward the Ice Glen. There was a point at which I thought I should go back to make sure I didn't miss the trail, but I figured, "no, I'm on the trail, I'll come to it.
As I continued on, it still seemed I was moving quicker than I should and realized that I was coming back to the entrance. Confused, I made my way back up the path and decided to back down the way I'd come up.
(I feel like I am not correctly recollecting this sequence, but it was something like this).
I went down there and assumed that the way I'd come in must have been the "Glen". I didn't see any ice and the boulders weren't really cold, but I just figured it was due to summer. I was still confused by where my cohorts had gone, though, as I hadn't seen them on my way back down.
I walked a very easy 1.3 mile path that looped next to the Housatonic. On my way out, Looked at the map again. It occurred to me that the small white car that I had seen outside the first stop was the similar to one I'd seen around the campus we where we are all working/staying. I texted and that was indeed THEIR car. I decided to head back to that spot to look for the Ice Glen since I wasn't able to find an entrance in the park I 'd gone to.
So, I went back to the rich neighborhood and parked at the spot here I didn't stop before and started the long, flat climb up the gravel-then-paved path - this time seeing a barely-readable sign that said "ICE GLEN".
I passed a couple coming down and at the top saw another small sign reading "ICE GLEN" with a caret pointing the direction I was heading. I eventually saw the rocky, mossy outcropping and did indeed feel a sudden temperature drop - more severe than the considerable drop when I entered the forest at Laura's Hill. I moved forward looking for a path that would head back to the Hill, but I couldn't find one. I kept moving back toward the seemingly impassable concurrence of millenia-old fallen boulders, and kept thinking I saw no way forward. Then I saw what seemed to be a narrow path. Again, it would seem there was none...again I'd see rocks that seemed as though they had been placed as steps. As I got further in, the intended trail seemed harder to find and that I taking ever-slightly more risk to try to continue.
Eventually, I reached a point that I thought I could only go up, and found myself scrambling up a hill a bit. I again thought I saw a foot-worn path - only to feel myself stymied again. I looked left toward a steep uphill, thinking that wherever the path was it had to be up and over the impassable rock ravine. So, I started making my way up what was now less of a hike and more of a climb. I took my time grabbing and hand and foot-holds, grasping small trees and pull myself up or to catch when I thrust myself upward. Though I wasn't looking back down, I was definitely thinking of how tricky that descent would be if I had to make it.
I worked myself up to more level ground and looked around for a path, still not seeing one. I continued up to the top of whatever peak I was on and tried my best to see the tower I'd climbed earlier, but the foliage was too thick to make out anything besides mountains in the far distance. I decided to head back down - and it took a bit of effort to get back to the path climbed up since I was still trying to find the mysterious path around. On my way down, it occurred to me to put my car key more securely in my pockets than it was.
I made it back to the spot where I last saw a path and again tried looking around. I probed a few yards further along into the crevasse, but gave up looking and thinking that there looked like no way around...and feeling like I didn't want to push too much luck after the previous climb. I tried moving across the ravine to the other side to find a path. There was one slippery rock that gave a somewhat fatigued/worried body some trouble. I finally managed to across it, but still got to a spot where I looked and said "that doesn't look passable". I decided to head back to the vehicle and now noticed the soreness in my left knee. Heading back down the path once out of the glen,
I decided to walk backwards to ease the stress on my knees. This worked fine - until I forget about the place where the pavement goes away and - twisted ankle, backwards tumble. It was only sprained a bit and I was able to make it back to the vehicle with no additional injuries, bruised ego notwithstanding. There was a part of me already dismayed and determined to figure out this mystery.
Upon returning I went to online maps I saw that there was on fact a trail shown connecting the two places I'd been. I'd iced my ankle and knee and the former already felt much loose from walking. I decided to go back to the Laura's Hill entrance and find the correct path.
This time, I left my camera in the vehicle (as I had done at the last entrance...along, accidentally, with my phone). I wished I had brought my gloves, but I also made sure to find a walking stick this time. I picked up one that was inadequate, but better than nothing. The I noticed a suitable branch. Up the trail it was already apparent how much stress was taken off my left knee by using the stick and my right arm - again, those gloves would have been nice.
I took the easy trail to try to work my way back to the trail I had lazily missed before, but had to work all the way back to an earlier fork to get my bearings - as I said, I was determined. Once I had eliminated all the the other paths, I find myself going back up one that I thought that I had come down, but which begin to seem less familiar. Eventually the sides began to close in as I'd read on one of the sites about the Glen and I saw giant boulders forming a vee. I continued up the path until I was steeping up rocks instead of walking a path. I continued in, again glad to have the the aid of the limb* until I reached to point that I recognized as the place where I started climbing the incline when I entered on the other side. Relieved, but not quite joyed, I headed back out of the Glen to exit the park. As I exited the crevasse I looked over and saw the monolithic rock carving indicating the Glen and it contributor from 1891 that I'd missed before.
By now, I was quite struck by the feeling of "that little girl"** in nothing but stocking lead those 3 guys through this with no trouble on the first try, and here I was climbing this trail thinking I'd done something impressive,"***.
I began wondering about why I seem to keep making choices...that end up being mistakes where I decide that I don't need to do something, or bring something or put in the extra effort to find something or will be a little extra work only to realize that whatever I didn't do/get was exactly what I needed.
I found myself wanting to ask a wise soul, "what is laziness the manifestation of". Why do I continue to blow off or give up on the easy things that would make me successful?
On my way out. I saw a woman and who I assume was her daughter (both, lovely kind-seeming humans). As I lay the stick back down at a fork, the mother greeted me and asked if I'd seen any wild animals. We small-talked a bit and I asked if they'd seen the Glen...AND if they found it in one try. The daughter asked how long it was to the Tower. I encouraged her to go back and go all the way to the top, that I can understand why she didn't want to continue at that late point in the day.
I was quite glad to have come across them. I'm glad the mother engaged me. It made me feel human and took me out of the sullen regret at my fallibility.
And then I went to the store for liquid soap...and forgot what I went there for almost as soon as I parked.
I'm here now. And I typed this.
end.
*heh. bit-of-a-pun, that.
**well, she is a person of smaller stature, though still considerably of fewer years than me
***which I'm sure feminist associates would love to use as a point for later reference
I thought that I saw what was their car parked in well-to-do neighborhood with an address number, a an illegible sign and another beneath it saying "park here and walk". I didn't get our because I saw the address number and "private drive" and had already had to turn around due to a "PRIVATE DRIVE DO NOT ENTER" sign.
So, I re-searched and found what I thought were the correct directions near a park. This time I saw no car and assumed that they went to somewhere else or to an alternate entrance I didn't know of. There was a simple map if the trails outside that I could have snapped with my camera, but didn't. I went inside with my camera and headed over a bridge and up into the woods, opting to head up the red (harder) trail. I found a fork leading to the "Glen" or the "Tower". I elected to go for it an head up to the tower. The trail was definitely not for the casual, though I felt I managed it well. While closer to the bottom, I thought I should pick up a walking stick, but there I noticed nothing suitable and just decided that I could manage without it.
While making my way up Laura's Hill and listening for animals that might NOT be a chipmunk, squirrel or bird, I heard some voices and soon made out the group that I had hoped to catch. They told me the summit wasn't too far up and she asked if I'd found the Ice Glen. I told her that I'd go up and come do it on my way out. She mentioned that they had come in from what seemed to have been the first street I turned on
I summited, went up a shakey tower and headed back down. The decent seemed faster, but at some point unfamiliar. I felt like I was noticing paths I hadn't seen before. At one fork I backtracked to try to figure out where I was. When I thought I'd figured it out, I headed back in the direction that should pointed toward the Ice Glen. There was a point at which I thought I should go back to make sure I didn't miss the trail, but I figured, "no, I'm on the trail, I'll come to it.
As I continued on, it still seemed I was moving quicker than I should and realized that I was coming back to the entrance. Confused, I made my way back up the path and decided to back down the way I'd come up.
(I feel like I am not correctly recollecting this sequence, but it was something like this).
I went down there and assumed that the way I'd come in must have been the "Glen". I didn't see any ice and the boulders weren't really cold, but I just figured it was due to summer. I was still confused by where my cohorts had gone, though, as I hadn't seen them on my way back down.
I walked a very easy 1.3 mile path that looped next to the Housatonic. On my way out, Looked at the map again. It occurred to me that the small white car that I had seen outside the first stop was the similar to one I'd seen around the campus we where we are all working/staying. I texted and that was indeed THEIR car. I decided to head back to that spot to look for the Ice Glen since I wasn't able to find an entrance in the park I 'd gone to.
So, I went back to the rich neighborhood and parked at the spot here I didn't stop before and started the long, flat climb up the gravel-then-paved path - this time seeing a barely-readable sign that said "ICE GLEN".
I passed a couple coming down and at the top saw another small sign reading "ICE GLEN" with a caret pointing the direction I was heading. I eventually saw the rocky, mossy outcropping and did indeed feel a sudden temperature drop - more severe than the considerable drop when I entered the forest at Laura's Hill. I moved forward looking for a path that would head back to the Hill, but I couldn't find one. I kept moving back toward the seemingly impassable concurrence of millenia-old fallen boulders, and kept thinking I saw no way forward. Then I saw what seemed to be a narrow path. Again, it would seem there was none...again I'd see rocks that seemed as though they had been placed as steps. As I got further in, the intended trail seemed harder to find and that I taking ever-slightly more risk to try to continue.
Eventually, I reached a point that I thought I could only go up, and found myself scrambling up a hill a bit. I again thought I saw a foot-worn path - only to feel myself stymied again. I looked left toward a steep uphill, thinking that wherever the path was it had to be up and over the impassable rock ravine. So, I started making my way up what was now less of a hike and more of a climb. I took my time grabbing and hand and foot-holds, grasping small trees and pull myself up or to catch when I thrust myself upward. Though I wasn't looking back down, I was definitely thinking of how tricky that descent would be if I had to make it.
I worked myself up to more level ground and looked around for a path, still not seeing one. I continued up to the top of whatever peak I was on and tried my best to see the tower I'd climbed earlier, but the foliage was too thick to make out anything besides mountains in the far distance. I decided to head back down - and it took a bit of effort to get back to the path climbed up since I was still trying to find the mysterious path around. On my way down, it occurred to me to put my car key more securely in my pockets than it was.
I made it back to the spot where I last saw a path and again tried looking around. I probed a few yards further along into the crevasse, but gave up looking and thinking that there looked like no way around...and feeling like I didn't want to push too much luck after the previous climb. I tried moving across the ravine to the other side to find a path. There was one slippery rock that gave a somewhat fatigued/worried body some trouble. I finally managed to across it, but still got to a spot where I looked and said "that doesn't look passable". I decided to head back to the vehicle and now noticed the soreness in my left knee. Heading back down the path once out of the glen,
I decided to walk backwards to ease the stress on my knees. This worked fine - until I forget about the place where the pavement goes away and - twisted ankle, backwards tumble. It was only sprained a bit and I was able to make it back to the vehicle with no additional injuries, bruised ego notwithstanding. There was a part of me already dismayed and determined to figure out this mystery.
Upon returning I went to online maps I saw that there was on fact a trail shown connecting the two places I'd been. I'd iced my ankle and knee and the former already felt much loose from walking. I decided to go back to the Laura's Hill entrance and find the correct path.
This time, I left my camera in the vehicle (as I had done at the last entrance...along, accidentally, with my phone). I wished I had brought my gloves, but I also made sure to find a walking stick this time. I picked up one that was inadequate, but better than nothing. The I noticed a suitable branch. Up the trail it was already apparent how much stress was taken off my left knee by using the stick and my right arm - again, those gloves would have been nice.
I took the easy trail to try to work my way back to the trail I had lazily missed before, but had to work all the way back to an earlier fork to get my bearings - as I said, I was determined. Once I had eliminated all the the other paths, I find myself going back up one that I thought that I had come down, but which begin to seem less familiar. Eventually the sides began to close in as I'd read on one of the sites about the Glen and I saw giant boulders forming a vee. I continued up the path until I was steeping up rocks instead of walking a path. I continued in, again glad to have the the aid of the limb* until I reached to point that I recognized as the place where I started climbing the incline when I entered on the other side. Relieved, but not quite joyed, I headed back out of the Glen to exit the park. As I exited the crevasse I looked over and saw the monolithic rock carving indicating the Glen and it contributor from 1891 that I'd missed before.
By now, I was quite struck by the feeling of "that little girl"** in nothing but stocking lead those 3 guys through this with no trouble on the first try, and here I was climbing this trail thinking I'd done something impressive,"***.
I began wondering about why I seem to keep making choices...that end up being mistakes where I decide that I don't need to do something, or bring something or put in the extra effort to find something or will be a little extra work only to realize that whatever I didn't do/get was exactly what I needed.
I found myself wanting to ask a wise soul, "what is laziness the manifestation of". Why do I continue to blow off or give up on the easy things that would make me successful?
On my way out. I saw a woman and who I assume was her daughter (both, lovely kind-seeming humans). As I lay the stick back down at a fork, the mother greeted me and asked if I'd seen any wild animals. We small-talked a bit and I asked if they'd seen the Glen...AND if they found it in one try. The daughter asked how long it was to the Tower. I encouraged her to go back and go all the way to the top, that I can understand why she didn't want to continue at that late point in the day.
I was quite glad to have come across them. I'm glad the mother engaged me. It made me feel human and took me out of the sullen regret at my fallibility.
And then I went to the store for liquid soap...and forgot what I went there for almost as soon as I parked.
I'm here now. And I typed this.
end.
*heh. bit-of-a-pun, that.
**well, she is a person of smaller stature, though still considerably of fewer years than me
***which I'm sure feminist associates would love to use as a point for later reference
