CMC News - Summer 2020

ANONYMOUS VOLUNTEERS

A couple of weeks ago I was driving back home from a grocery run in Walton. As I was approaching the last mile I noticed a car stopped alongside our rural road and a woman standing next to it. Me, being the inquisitive type, stopped, rolled down my window and asked if all was OK. “Oh, everything is fine; I was just picking up some trash that someone dumped on the road.” I replied, “some people are just slobs and it amazes me the things they toss out of their vehicles.” She stated that she couldn’t stand to see such a nice pretty road messed up with garbage. I thanked her for her efforts and went on my way.

Then, several days later I had a chance to pay it forward as the phrase goes. On my trips back and forth to Walton, along the same road, I had noticed an old TV and a plastic bag of something discarded in a small turn out. I must have driven past it 5 or 6 times each and time thinking “why would someone do that”. Well the time had come for me to do my part. So I stopped, loaded the TV, which was an old 40” monster, into the back of my Subaru. I looked in the bag and found that it contained several board games in good condition and loaded that in too and continued on to Walton. On my way back home I swung but the Landfill, put the TV into the recycling shed and left the board games on the ledge to the garbage bins for someone to discover and perhaps give them a new home.

It is always a mystery to me that a person or persons can hike with 2 six packs of beer 5 miles into the woods along a trail but leave all the empty beer cans right where they were consumed. The cans weigh nothing and if crushed take up almost no space. Yet there they lay.

A couple of years ago a group of CMC volunteers were maintaining the trail between Big Pond and Alder Lake. We had just finished the long 5 mile stretch and were at the Big Pond parking lot. I went into the woods to, well you know, and discovered about 4-5 bags of garbage, all scattered about by the critters. Much of it looked like camping trash: paper plates, food wrappers and a well used sleeping bag etc. It was too much for us to clean up with no receptacles to put it all in. So we called over to Little Pond campsite and 2 employees came over to take care of it. It was no surprise to them and they related some of their encounters with even worse instances.

A few months ago there were several bags of trash dumped on our rural road near Delhi. I stopped, opened one of the bags and found an envelope with a name and address. Back at home, I found the telephone number that matched the address. I then called the number and told the person on the other end what I had found and that the Sheriff would be called if the trash was not removed in 4 hours. I drove by the next morning and it was gone.

So, Rick, what’s the point of your verbiage here? My point is, we can all be the volunteer like the woman at the beginning of my article. Not that we should be the garbage men for the slobs of the world but that when we see something that offends us, rather than ignoring it and just asking ourselves “why do people do that”, that we actually DO something: that we take a part in making our little part of the earth a bit better for ourselves and for those who, I am sure, have no idea of our anonymous act.

If I had not stopped and asked the woman what she was up to, the trash would have mysteriously disappeared and her anonymous act would have been just that.

SUMMER SIMMER: Waghkonk Notes August 4, 2020

WHY WAGHKONK?
Dave Holden

I Should explain to the occasional reader why I call these missives Waghkonk Notes. I started writing these as the Comeau Newsletter, way back when I was the volunteer trail-keeper at Comeau. I decided to expand my horizon (literally) to include all of the Woodstock Valley, which runs from Bearsville to northern Zena, following the middle stretch of the Sawkill, going from the foothills of the Catskills to the western edge of the Hudson Valley itself. I settled on Waghkonk because that (as well as the versions, Awaghkonk and Wachkunk) is the oldest name for this area found on the earliest maps of the region from the 1600’s and 1700’s. Evan Pritchard, noted regional Native American scholar and etymologist (one who studies word-origins) believes that Waghkonk might mean (approximately) ”land of waterfalls under the Sacred Mountain” - which would certainly fit. There is evidence that the earliest settlers referred to the mid-Sawkill valley as Waghkonk, also. In “Woodstock: History of an American Town” (pg.33-34), my friend Alf Evers writes that Judge Robert R. Livingston, corresponding with his father, Chancellor Livingston, noted that the senior was at Wachkunk, then crossed Wachkunk out and rewrote it as Woodstock (after the Oxfordshire town in England where he was from), and thereby making the first known reference to Woodstock. I like Waghkonk Notes because I want to help others see, and remind myself, that this land is older than the settlers, and even older than the Natives who lived here before them (they at least had the ability to respect the Land and care for it - which is what I think we need more of right now).

A VERITABLE LIFE-STORM
The wonderful (literally, full of wonder) mini-season we call Midsummer is past now, the days are shorter, as the season inexorably turns. In our corner of the Catskills, in terms of burgeoning life-forms, this is still a rich, rich time of year - a veritable Life-Storm. We are literally surrounded by the fruitfulness of the season. The heavy, humid air we wade through is thick with insect-life (though not as much as previous years - note the lack of any real “windshield-effect”), including mosquitos now, nurtured by recent heavy rains. The “Cricket Chorus” - Crickets, Katydids and Seasonal Cicadas - is very healthy this year, busily entertaining us, day and night - I love it. Just when I think the Fireflies are done for the season, they show up again, responding to increases in the dew-point (the indicator of humidity-levels). Every species of animal is busy reproducing their kind and raising their young. Myriad trees and other plants are racing for the sun, throwing out new green shoots or sending down new, deeper roots and making seed. The very topsoil under our feet is seething with (seemingly) countless forms of life - animal, insect and microbe.
Now it is hard to remember those January days when the trees were popping and the stream was crackling - just as at that point it was impossible to fully imagine everything ever getting hot and green again. I keep thinking maybe I should be bored with the cycles of the season, year after year. Not at all. In truth, I find it more exciting each year. I see new things every spring, flowers I hadn’t noticed before, subtle permutations of field and forest.

“MAKING HAY”
So much life is in evidence - “making hay while the sun shines”. Both forest and meadow are about as lush as they can be - one cool and dark, the other, sometimes almost unbearably hot and brightly sunny. Since the woodland flowers already flowered in the spring (before the canopy filled in) the primary growth there now is that of the Understory (smaller tree-species like Striped Maple, Flowering Dogwood and Sassafras) and below it, the Shrub-layer (Mountain Laurel and Viburnums). Under that is the Herb/Fern layer. This is called Stratification.

The only strategy for growth in fields and meadows right now is which plant can grow tallest, fastest and Mullein wins handily, some reaching 7 ft. already. Likewise with all the animals, whether they are amphibian, bird, fish, insect, mammal or reptile this is the time for them to make and have as many young as possible. The entire chain of life is wildly (ha!) visible now - very hard to miss. The streams and ponds team with aquatic life, waterborne insects serving the same function as their cousins in the air and on the land, only in this case to feed fish, who in turn become prey to Bald Eagles, Ospreys, Great Blue- and Green Herons, Great Egrets, Raccoons, snakes, turtles and larger fish. Our Cottontail rabbit population is on the increase and Black Bear cubs are growing fast, learning from mom about the ursine world, but occasionally running afoul of automobiles and older bears. Wild Turkeys may have started their season with a dozen or more poults, as their young are called, but by now are down to about half that. Same with the young of ducks and geese. As cute as all these creatures can sometimes be, we must remember the harshness of the natural world around us. In that food-chain I mentioned before, our local Eastern Coyotes, Grey- and Red Foxes, as well as the Red-tail- and Red-shouldered Hawks and assorted Owls all look at the small animals as prey. These predators themselves can become prey to human hunters, or even accidentally to motor vehicles. Again, remember that this is their optimal time. Come winter it is not uncommon for all the small wild dogs, and even the hawks, to starve. Our cycle of the seasons in the northeast is a relentless one - beautiful but unforgiving. It is a tough reality for wild creatures that sometimes we don’t want to admit to. We love to idealize Nature, but Nature is not about to be idealized so easily. Even experienced, life-long outdoorsmen like myself fall into the trap of loving these wonderful creatures, setting ourselves up for a fall. But how can we not?

MEADOWS AND FIELDS FLOWERING
Most of the flowering has now switched solidly from forest to meadow and field (with the exception of myriad mushrooms finally filling the forest with fungi). Present now in our open spaces are Beebalm, Goldenrods (not allergens), Ragweed (the real allergy culprit), Queen Anne’s Lace, Wild Strawberries, Wild Blackberries and Raspberries, Long-stem Buttercups, the Clovers, Red and White, and many others - most notably, Milkweed. The Milkweed’s symbiotes (meaning another creature or plant whose life-cycle is inextricably linked to it and dependent upon it) - the Monarchs - have only belatedly arrived and just a few of them in a tragedy of epic proportions in the insect world as uncontrolled logging continues to destroy the Oyumel pine trees in the mountains of Mexico’s Michoacan state. These are the only trees the Eastern Monarchs will winter on, clustered together for ambient warmth (the smaller Western Monarchs winter in southern California). Since Monarchs help pollinate Milkweed which then supplies them with its bitter taste that repels most predators (encouraging other butterflies to mimic their appearance), as well as a safe haven for their eggs, I’m sure that this season’s lack of Monarchs is not helping the Milkweed, either. The intertwined, symbiotic dependence of Milkweeds and Monarchs should teach us about our own dependence on the varied elements of the world around us. Also, perhaps generations of Monarchs have passed down stories of these lush green summer fields of ours - their Avalon. I wonder, in the winter, as they huddle together on their pine trees in the cool mountains, do Monarchs regale each other with stories of their ancestral Milkweed patches and dream of frolicking in these Milkweed-rich, sunny leas? Why not, I say.

TIME OF GREAT CHANGE
Summer is a time of great change, phenomenal transformation. The Milkweed plant of early summer is not the same plant now. The Red-tail that builds it’s nest in the spring is very different from the one that watches its young leave that same nest. This is also a time of change and growth for people. Summer gives us the opportunity to get outside (of ourselves?) more than we generally do. We travel more (or used to), to the shore, to visit relatives, etc. By getting out into our world we meet people we normally wouldn’t and we do things we normally wouldn’t otherwise do. All of these activities make us learn and grow (sometimes whether we like it or not). In this season we get a chance to see our selves reflected by others, whereas in winter, because there is less light and we’re “cooped up” more, we tend to delve more inside our own self in an introspective, self-reflective manner. COVID-19 has altered this pattern some, but I think much of this still applies. Like the Milkweed and the Red-tail, it could be that by the end of the season none of us will be exactly the same person we were at the beginning of the summer.

Please have a Fun, Happy and Safe rest of your Summer. Thank you all.
Take Care, "Ranger" Dave Holden - peregrine8@hvc.rr.com / (845)594-4863 rangerdaveholden@instagram / Woodstock Trails on Facebook /www.woodstocknytrails.com

ALL (those) TRAILS!

Tom Rankin

I can remember when I first started hiking the Catskills. It seemed like it would take forever just to do 35 peaks! It did take me almost 5 years, but I finally finished on Slide. I was originally interested in the quickest way up the mountains, but eventually, I began to hike the peaks from different directions. After a few more years, I had hiked the 35 from almost every trail. But I was also becoming aware of other challenges. For starters, my wife Laurie and I decided to do the Catskill Hundred Highest. Not every peak on this list has a trail of course, but this did lead to discovering that the Catskills were bigger than I had originally thought. Eventually, I became aware of the All Trails Challenge, aka “redlining”, a quest to hike every trail in the Catskill region. (Most trails were indicated in red on old maps, so that's where the name comes from). I never thought I'd be interested in this type of activity, being a pretty hard core peak bagger.

What got me into this in earnest was being asked by Dave and Carol White to write the new version of the ADK's “Catskill Trails”. The Whites were some of the first to finish the Challenge. Their book and the Challenge include almost all of the same trails. Writing about the trails knowledgeably would of course require hiking all of them, so off we went. I soon realized that no matter how organized you are, and even if you have 2 cars, you will have to walk many of the trails in both directions. When a trail ends in the middle of the woods, you have no choice but to turn around and walk back, in one case, about 7 miles!

My impressions of the trails are quite varied. A few are just not worth it in my opinion. The “trail” is sometimes literally just a paved road in a few places. Other road walks were more pleasant, and to be honest, road walking usually means smoother trails. Some trails were surprisingly challenging, such as several sections of the Finger Lakes Trail. The Hunter, Balsam Lake, Tremper, Overlook, and Red Hill trails offer trips to fire towers that have wonderful 360 degree views of the surrounding country side. Speaking of fire towers, did you know at least 1 bridge in the Catskills is made of repurposed steel from the Belleayre Fire Tower? A loop of Sugarloaf and Twin will take you thru a “keyhole” and into “Dibbles's Quarry”, abandoned years ago, but still fascinating to visit. Sitting on the “throne”, you can become “King of the Catskills” for a few minutes! A trip on some trails can transport you back in time. Ruins of hotels, mansions, and farmsteads await the explorer. But be careful, some are off limits, and are not safe to enter. We saw our first ever Fisher Cat while hiking to Quick Lake!

Eventually, the end of the Challenge was in sight. We had to drive quite a bit for some short trail sections, so we tried to combine 2 or more trails in 1 day. We finished a few months ago by hiking a section of the Rock Shelter Trail. Of course, we had to turn around and retrace our steps!

If you're looking to get away from the crowds that sometimes fill the more popular trails in the Catskills, we hiked many of the trails on this list without ever seeing another person. We did run into a few hunters, but all of the encounters were friendly and positive. These trails still involve elevation gain, but they are not like doing a Devil's Path traverse. As far as maintenance goes, some trails are well tended, (these tend to be trails shared with snowmobiles), and some are not. We struggled to find the trail a few times, when trail clearing and markers were not kept up. And not every sign is still readable, or accurate. Make sure you have a good map when setting out!

Tom Rankin is the Past President of the Catskill 3500 Club. He has hiked extensively in the North East over the past 20 years. He recently became the author of “Catskill Trails”, a guide book published by ADK. The newest edition is due out this year.

View from Giant Ledge

View from Slide Mountain

Oh, no - not those caterpillars again!

Don't worry, these caterpillar tents we are seeing all over the Catskills now are not the awful Forest Tent Caterpillars that defoliated so many trees a number of years ago. These tents are made by Fall Webworms and are said not to really harm the trees. The tents are mostly built at the ends of branches, and the leaves that are being eaten are getting close to the end of their useful life anyway. An interesting fact about the Fall Webworm caterpillars, according to Wikipedia: Larvae are known to wiggle vigorously at periodic intervals in synchrony. How they synchronize these movements especially when distributed over a wide area has not been established.