Breakfast

CT Wild Ramblings is getting ready for a post about explorations of the West Hartford Reservoir and Deer Cliff area. In the meantime, I've been thinking about "the most important meal of the day." What's the verdict on this? I've heard it said by a lot of folks, however it also seems to be the smallest meal of the day for a lot of people. And I know folks (myself included at times) who don't eat it. So what gives!?

In my line of work (which for now is stacking fruits and vegetables at a grocery store), I am accustomed to two types of shifts. One is the early shift, where I am out the door by quarter to six, but clock out by two in the afternoon. These are the days I take the dog Jay for a hike before dinner. The other shift is the late shift, where I am free all morning before working til close. These are the days I make a good breakfast.

With this exhaustive experience, I feel qualified to say that making a big breakfast is more rewarding to the mind and to the gut than making a big dinner. You wake up in the morning with a fuzzy mind. But once you've taken care of the early housekeeping, its nice to set to work and do something simple and familiar. Get the radio or a record on. Put on the water for coffee. Collect your ingredients. Prepare your tools. And set to work.

It's not just the food that does it for me. It's the clink and clank of the pots and pans. The morning sun that gleans through my back woods. The feeling that today is new. You never know what a day may hold, but a good breakfast is as good a start as any to a good day. I find it exciting. The food, by the way, is the star of the show. Let's go through the process for a simple breakfast: coffee, eggs, bacon, fruit.

I like my coffee freshly ground. I buy beans at the Hartford Baking Company on New Park Avenue in Elmwood. Dark roast, from a local roaster if possible. The first step in breakfast is boiling water in the kettle. Make a half cup of grounds, and stir it into the French press. Often the coffee is ready about ten minutes before the food is, which is perfect. One mug before breakfast, and one with.

Bacon is next. I don't think a "healthy" bacon exists, but I try to make my bacon experience as healthy as possible. Stop & Shop has North Country Smokehouse products, which sources it's meat from local farms in New Hampshire and Vermont, and is nitrate-free. It's also an excellent product. I fry two slices cut in half on low heat in the cast iron, which pulls out the most grease and renders it down to four beautifully crispy little morsels.

Save the grease! Once I pull the bacon to drip-dry on a paper towel, I like to crack my eggs right into the pan, which now has a thin layer of bacon grease. The grease is good for getting the eggs fried up just right, and also good for the cast-iron, adding flavor to the pan itself and maintaining its non-stick nature. My eggs are from a neighbor on Willard Avenue in Newington, just over the town line on the east side of the street. If you ever drive that way, look for the octagonal "EGGS $4.00" sign. Great service and great eggs. My go-to is a pinch of salt and smoked paprika on the yolks, eggs cooked over-medium.

The final step is the fruit. This depends on the season and what's available. At various times of the year, I'll do berries, peaches, apples, pears or citrus. Right now I have some hydro-ponically grown strawberries from Pell Farm in Somers. They are absolutely delicious, and only a buck more than the berries from California. By the way, it's perfectly acceptable to eat the leaves from your strawberries. Probably even a good source of fiber!

And there you go! THAT is a breakfast. Coffee, eggs, bacon, and strawberries! Good food to write about if you ask me. And local. Outside of the coffee beans (from Nicaragua, roasted in Canton), we have meat from New England, berries from Connecticut, and eggs from about 250 yards away from my house. If you are wondering why it's beneficial to eat local, I recommend reading Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan. But alas, that is a post for another day. For now, I will get back to enjoying these berries.

Talcott Mountain via Auer Farm and Reservoir #6

It is not lost on me that the title of this project is Connecticut Wild Ramblings. And I am aware that, thusfar, my posts have consisted of a welcome post, a metaphor about reading, and a failed hike in another state. 'Bout time for a true rambling in Connecticut, wouldn't you say?

Well, Saturday saw the dog Jay and I do just that. We had no other options. When you wake up on a sunny February day, put on UH Radio Bluegrass, and fry up a bacon egg and cheese, what else can you do next besides gear up for a hike?

The destination was somewhere sunny, and for a mid-morning, that meant an eastern slope. We chose Talcott Mountain, which does not have the most intuitive eastern approach. A popular option is to start at Reservoir #6 in West Hartford, but we went further than that. Auer Farm in Bloomfield is a place near to my heart, having spent a ton of time there as a youngster. Its a beautiful area and suprisingly, a wonderful gateway to the wilderness of the Metropolitan Water District and Talcott Mountain State Park.

After parking in the visitor's lot near the outbuildings, I set to work reacquainting myself with the farm, and the dog Jay got his scent smelling on. There was the predictable bushwhacking as we tried to find the old trail I knew was somewhere. At one point we even ended up the backyard of a condo complex. But finally, around the corner from the apiary and behind a grove of pine trees, we reached the gate.

Auer Farm is the gateway to Reservoir #6 and quite literally contains such a gateway!

I love this hike because it is such a seldom used trail. You need to trust that you are on an old farm road, but after a hundred yards or so, it becomes clear. The road twists as it gets closer to the MDC treatment facility, and there are some downed trees to navigate around, but eventually you come out right at the north end of Reservoir #6.

A frozen Reservoir #6 on a frigid morning.

Whether you are into peaks, lakes, or just some good old fashioned woods, I cannot recommend Reservoir #6, and really any of the MDC reservoirs, enough. There are so many trails, old carriage paths, and access roads, that it is easy to find new places with nothing but trees, rocks and wind. The dog Jay and I stuck to the basics on the way up the mountain, going from the Auer Farm path to the gravel road that circles the reservoir, to the Metacomet Trail, which reaches the top of Talcott Mountain. On the reservoir trail, we ran into the usual joggers and dog-walkers, as well as an owl. The dog Jay made a racket that unfortunately cost me a photo of the owl, but there was no denying the grace of the bird as it flew to a further and more secure perch.

From the reservoir, it is not a simple uphill to the mountain. The Metacomet Trail follows an initial incline, reaches a ridge, and then opens up to a gorgeous valley area before the final climb to the peak. This valley is where you will find your old carriage paths and fire roads, as well as a pipeline and power line, which have their own trails as well. We crossed the valley, noting where the Metacomet Trail joined and left an ancient road. The final climb had some slippery points, but as we got to the access road near the top, it was a pleasant surprise to see a light layer of snow.

The snowy eastern slope of Talcott Mountain-- only a few hundred yards from the summit.

The top of Talcott Mountain affords some of the best views of the Farmington River valley you can find. On a clear day you can even see Mount Monadnock, two states away! The state park area is a classic as well. The stone buildings are all from the early 20th century, including a 25-foot barbecue pit. You can practically see the early automobiles puttering up the access road for a Labor Day picnic. Of course, the Heublein Tower dominates that area of the ridge, built by a tobacco tycoon in 1914 before becoming a part of the state park in the 1960s.

The view from the top looking northwest towards Simsbury.

On our way back down the mountain, we veered from the Metacomet Trail to some of the old carriage paths. Eventually we found ourselves back at the Talcott Mountain Bypass Trail, which led us back to the reservoir. The final leg of our hike was very much off the beaten track. As a dear friend once told me, "there's nothing wrong with a little bushwhacking!" Truer words may have never been spoken. Coming back into the Auer Farm property was a special moment. From woods to farm to the city. A fitting transition!

The apiary at Auer Farm. A little city of bees- closed for the winter.

Overall it was a wonderful morning out with the dog Jay. We clocked in at a little under 6 miles, and about 2.5 hours. Not too shabby.

Massachusetts Misadventures

FIRST OFF: The feather from my last post is from a Downy Woodpecker. I believe it is a secondary wing feather. And now, we return to our regularly scheduled programming...

Having just moved back to Connecticut after eight years away from home, I've found myself feeling a little out of place at times. I have some core friends from high school and of course my family, but there are not too many people I know based on mutual interests and hobbies, like there are in the other places I have lived. This weekend I decided to make a go at changing that, registering for a group hike led by the Connecticut chapter of the Appalachian Mountain Club.

The CT AMC seems to be a fantastic organization. They send weekly emails with hikes they are running in the area, and just about every day has an option, (some days two or three!) With Sunday being my day off, I registered for a hike and made sure to get plenty of sleep Saturday night. The hike was tailored towards younger members- a morning traverse of the Mount Tom Range in the Pioneer Valley of Massachusetts. The Mount Tom Range includes Mount Tom, which, at just over 1,200 feet, is one of the most prominent peaks between Greylock and Wachussett. The hike would begin at the north slope of the range, work its way south over some of the lesser peaks, and end at Mount Tom itself, with glorious views of Holyoke, Springfield, and the rest of the Pioneer Valley.

Or at least, that was the plan.

The northern edge of the Mt. Tom Range, seen from US-5 south of Northampton.

With the expected icy conditions at higher elevations, the hike leaders required micro-spikes, which are nifty little gadgets you affix to your hiking boots to give you traction on ice. I don't have micro-spikes, they are too expensive for me right now, and I was not able to find a place to rent them. Luckily, one of the hike leaders told me he would bring his extra pair for me to borrow. Yes!

Fast forward to Sunday. After waking up at 6:30am, dropping off the dog Jay at my aunt and uncle's house, and completing the drive through Springfield, I arrived at the trailhead in Easthampton ready and rearing to go. I met some other hikers, including Alison the other trip leader. The group was from places as disparate as Worcester, greater Hartford, and western Connecticut. It was a good group of six for the hike. The only person missing was the other trip leader, the one who had a pair of micro-spikes for me. I talked to Alison, and she said that he had called her that morning to say he was sick and would not be coming. Likewise, I would not have micro-spikes. No!

We began southward. It was chilly and cloudy, but beautiful. Big ol' flakes were coming down slowly, and there was no wind. It was picturesque. No sooner had we entered the woods, however, when the ice started to get bad. Everyone stopped and- you guessed it!- put their micro-spikes on. Good thing they were required. I determined that I would make a go of it. We started again, and- schwoop!- my second step put me on my butt. Not only that, but I slid a solid 15 feet down the trail on the ice, even taking the turn on a switchback. The group and I deliberated, and ultimately decided that going any further would not end well for me. It was not easy to turn back after such a long drive and such a short hike, but sometimes you have to choose the smart decision over the fun one.

My unpreparedness turned this stretch of trail into a slip n slide. I turned back here.

The day was not lost! I made the most of what I had and where I was. Instead of heading straight back home, I enjoyed a half-day in Northampton. I caught the end of an Episcopal church service, and became acquainted with one of the friendliest congregations I've met. They even invited me to post-mass coffee and donuts. I bought a used book at one of the bookstores in town: Loving and Leaving the Good Life by Helen Nearing. And my misfortune on the trail allowed me to hear the second half of UConn's big overtime win against Cincinnati on the radio!

St. John's Episcopal Church in Northampton.

The dog Jay got to spend some time frolicking in Granby cornfields with my cousins, so he did pretty well too. Speaking of, that mutt is looking a little antsy. I promised him a walk down to Trout Brook to see how flooded it is with all this rain... And we're off!

Reading and Sugaring

As my legendary computer teacher Mrs. Butler (known to any graduate of Martin Kellogg Middle School) once said, "technology is a marvel of society...when it works." Or something to that extent. Tablet- check, keyboard-check, camera-check, car, my feet, the dog Jay's feet- check, check and check. I've been on some beautiful hikes this week but unfortunately the missing link is getting my pictures from the camera to the tablet. As we speak, the technological marvel known as Amazon is shipping me a micro-SD card. Once the capability arrives, who knows how many hikes will be documented on this page- with color photos to boot. But for now, we are limited to good old fashioned text and perhaps some images procured from my webcam or the Creative Commons.

I've been getting back into reading, thank goodness. Its something that comes in waves. I'll read two and a half books in January, start Chapter 7 in February, then put it down and not come back to finish it until March, when of course I end up reading two more books afterward. Who can relate? (woo!)

I compare it to sugaring maple trees, something I've always wanted to have a go at. Reading to me is a state of mind that takes concerted effort (or an exceptional book or subject) to tap into. Once you've tapped it, the words and chapters flow like sap in March. And your brain is the tin pail that collects it. The key is making use of that sap, staying in the right mindframe to receive, filter, and distill it down to usable information, perspectives, and relatable experiences (the Grade A maple syrup if you will).

Collecting sap and processing it takes a lot effort, and it is possible- even easier- to go about life without tapping your sugar maples. If you do make the proper effort, however, it is amazing what you can produce out of the trees around you- for free! I've been amazed at the maples I've found in my sugarbush. Some are major producers, some are more modest, and occasionally I come across a trickler (don't we all?)

I guess reading- and maple syrup- make life a bit sweeter.

The latest book I have been reading, The World Ending Fire, was given to me by a friend. It is a collection of essays by farmer and environmentalist Wendell Berry. The book is a producer. I continue to appreciate how a dozen or so pages a day keeps my mind engaged with the world around me as I process what I read. There will certainly be room in this blog for a post or two about specific essays.

For now, I'll end with some evidence of the 15 (!!!) mile hike I completed with the dog Jay on Wednesday. We were in some fantastic open space on Bradley Mountain near Shuttle Meadow Reservoir. Here is a feather I took from a the remains of a predator's lunch. Any ideas of the bird? They are a dime-a-dozen at my backyard feeder...

What bird am I? Comment if you know or want to take a guess!

Welcome!

Where is home for you? When I hear the word home, my first thought is my house, my family, and my friends. But I also think of "my" woods, "my" wetlands, "my" beaches, and "my" waters. Even with all of the things mentioned surrounding me, I feel I am still searching for home. There is always work to do around the house. I am always learning more and finding more love and joy in my family and friends, and of course, there are always more woods to explore.

I can't imagine that essays about relationships with my house, friends, and family would be completely appropriate for a blog, and besides, I have my personal journal for that. My woods however, now that deserves some publicity. CT Wild Ramblings is a medium for reflection, an archive of my experience, and potentially even a resource for you, the elusive blog-reader.

I refer to the places I explore as "my woods" in the same way you might describe your hometown. Places we know and love tend to foment feelings of internal ownership. Its the feeling you get when you reach a viewpoint at the top of a mountain and you can identify the little town centers below and the layers of hilltops beyond- not from a map, but from experience, having been there. When you know where you are geographically, perhaps you can begin to know where you are in a grander scheme. That's what I'm searching for and writing about here.

Whether it is a new area, a new trail, or a new perspective on an old trail, I am constantly learning more about my woods and getting a better understanding of my experience of home and self. Perhaps you'll find some perspective here, and apply it to your own experience with your own woods. And if not, you can still get outside for some fresh air, exercise, and fun!

Taken September 2017 - Connecticut River near East Windsor