Found this fossil at our improvised camp on Holly Brook. I have to have it, but couldn't conceive of carrying it the 40 remaining miles to the end of our hike. Cara and I will return to retrieve it as soon as possible.

I cannot speak for the Buddha, but I'd say it is the "hard road" that makes you ever more appreciate the comforts of home. I had the experience of a lifetime in the backcountry, perfect in every regard except for the deep and bottomless way in which I missed my sweet Chilly P.

He leaves his home, seeking
Happiness on the hard road.
-- Buddha

Don't know why I'm such a gardening idiot--my mother obviously has the gift of the green thumb. This is what she's accomplished so far; it will really be something when her plantings take hold. We'll see how tough her actual offspring is when I leave for my 6-day hike tomorrow. Obviously my next posting won't happen for a week; until then, be healthy and be happy.

Remember that hit song from the 80's: "We are family, I got all my ducklings and me." Ahh, the memories. By the way, my mother sat me down and gave me the real scoop and skinny on Harvey. Turns out she didn't buy Harvey at a pet shop as a birthday gift for Max. She says that she just "picked him up someplace." That he was already a wanderer when he came to us, an escaped convict, if you will. And she doesn't believe that Harvey was stolen (don't know where I got that idea), but that he just "took off."
But there's more. You see, while in our care, Harvey laid an egg. My mother says she then renamed Harvey, henceforth calling him Harriet. But I don't remember that, and Max and Alice made no mention of it in their recollections. Did we repress the knowledge that we had the world's first transgender turtle?

Bachelor this week since Cara and Jessie went to NYC with Easy. So off to the Bold Coast I went to break in my boots and enjoy the ocean breeze. It was 67 degrees in Cutler; 81 degrees in Machias. Manhattan has to be what, 147 degrees? Now really, who goes to the concrete canyon in the summer when they own a lakeside cottage in Maine? Don't people usually try to get out of the city in summer? Easy tells me there'll be a lot of tourists in NY; that's for darn sure: nothing but tourists.

The lobsterman plies his trade.

Take a walk on the wild side...



Speaking of wild, I startled a moose, which stomped down the path ahead of me. I fumbled with my camera, but, too slow. If I was smart I'd take my cue from those NY tourists and wear my camera around my neck.

Long time no see, I know. But, the thing was, Jessie had her camera and words on a blog without a photo seem so empty, somehow. Well, good news: I bought my own camera! Yes, I am an adult now. Yeah, right. Anyway, I'm leaving for a six day hike next Thursday and I promise to take a lot of pics. What's that, do I hear groaning? Because, it's true, showing other people your vacation pictures is a sure-fire way to bore them to death.

Speaking of being an adult, the toys on top of the ice chest were given to me this past Christmas by my mother. Of course, I inherited my affection for rusty old toys from her, so it's really a very mature tradition. The ice chest itself was rehabbed by the Gilkster and is now really more of a toy chest since I'm using it to store my budding collection of backpacking gear.

Rosa Rugosa we planted last year. Even idiot gardeners can't stop this stuff from growing.

So my sister Alice runs across this sign after my Harvey the turtle post. What are the chances? And notice that the bereft turtle owner says her turtle "ran away." Man, that turtle and the hare story--the whole thing was backwards.

This is the year I swore to be a better gardener--or any kind of gardener; but once again I have failed. Fortunately I'm so wealthy I was able to hire out the fabulous Queen of Rhubarb (which I have heard pronounced locally as ru-bub). This fine lady, also known as my mother-in-law, loves to get her hands dirty. So as Cara and I sit around drinking coffee and messing with this blog, she's out there sweating in the bug net. By the way, she's also spent a fair amount of time digging holes at 10 Free Street under the supervision of Grandma Edith, so she's a pro and a mensch. Needless to say, here at Birch Wisdom we're big fans of the Big Easy.

This turtle came to visit, hanging out at the edge of the "lawn"--otherwise known as the world's greatest assortment of weeds. Reminds me of a strange episode from my Staten Island childhood. My brother Max--the nature lover!--was given a gift of a turtle he named Harvey. Well, it wasn't long before Harvey disappeared and I was led to believe that he "ran away." I pondered this for years: how exactly does a turtle run away? Aren't they slow as molasses? Harvey might have even been slow for a turtle. It wasn't until I was deemed mature enough to handle the truth that my mother confessed that Harvey had been stolen. So of course I was now left to ponder something I would never figure out: who the heck steals a turtle?

This photo is from the first day of our hike. Usually I don't post such old stuff but I am without a camera so I had to go to the files. What kind of blogger doesn't have a camera?--the kind who mooches off his teenage daughter, I guess. I was checking out somebody else's blog today and he said that nature shots are always better when there's a person in them; I remember my friend Lorena (an actual artist) saying pretty much the same thing; so maybe I'm not a people person, because I'm just as happy looking at photos completely devoid of the human mug.

Tomorrow is the last student day of school. Yippee!!! and all that. Tonight I split wood with a maul, then went for a walk (hike?) with my pack carrying a 25 lb. bag of flour. Pretty odd workout regimen, I suppose, but it was tough enough that I only felt mildly guilty about having three hot dogs and a root beer.

Hope somebody out there is eating salad greens and drinking lots of water.

Love...

love...

and more love. I am blessed, you better believe.

You may have noticed that here at Birch Wisdom the focus is typically on solitary pursuits, but we all, as 'ol Mick used to sing, need someone to lean on. Jessie, my little girl, graduates high school tomorrow. We had a party for her tonight--and I think I can say a good time was had by all!--and her friend Alex actually asked her if he could see some photos of her from her younger days. Wow, photo-sharing without Facebook. Makes a dinosaur such as yours truly happy, happy, happy...

Cozy. (On Sale at North Face: $75)

Sweaty. (Washed away with a 7 quarter shower at the Pinkham Notch visitor center)

Wild (Painted Trillium: free and priceless, courtesy of Mama Nature)

At the time I didn't have the energy to appreciate it, but looking at this photo and realizing we traversed each of these peaks--pretty nifty!

As I followed Ernie up and down the mountain (pictured here on Mt. Moriah), I'd think, "look at him, not even sweating." I guess I was too tired to see clearly-- at least he's sweating a little bit. Nevertheless, he's a fit fellow. I'm fortunate to have linked up with somebody so experienced in the ways of the back country. His patience is especially appreciated because I do have a tendency to lag. Well, perseverance, not speed, is the important thing. Hopefully we'll be back on the trail in late June. No doubt, after a few trips under my belt I'll be like an old mountain goat.

The Kingdom of God--White Mountain division.

They say God works in mysterious ways. Really? Isn't it common sense, the way the snow melts on the mountain, is filtered by rocks in rivers and streams. It's people, you ask me, who are the mysterious ones. Dumping our toxic waste into the water--which is there to sustain us; now that's mysterious. We drank from the stream pictured above. Pure, cold and wonderful.

Down in the valley it's lush with the wild growth of Spring. Kids at work ask me my favorite color. This is about what I picture when I tell them it's green.