Monument Mountain - Part 4

I'd finally reached Squaw Peak, my destination point on Monument Mountain, and much of the rocky surface was covered with ice. So I kept the dogs on leashes and sat down carefully on a boulder to snap some photos of the beautiful valley below:

The young couple who shared the peak with me was very friendly and seemed a bit concerned that such an old codger and four dogs should be traversing these icy heights. I met several other hikers that day who, though never actually saying so, seemed concerned about such a decrepit oldster. But we were having a wonderful day. I asked the young couple to use my camera to get a photo of me with the dogs atop Squaw Peak and they were happy to do so:

Far below us the valley floor looked peaceful, calm and inviting. Squaw Peak was named for a Native American woman who, according to legend, leaped to her death from here. Perhaps this awesome sight inspired her to think she could fly:

But the time had come to start trekking back down the mountainside. When we'd reached a point which seemed safe, I again let the dogs off their leashes. This was a great relief for both them and for me:

Down we went, traversing the trail which was lined with Mountain Laurels and mossy rocks:

The Berkshire Mountains were visible through the trees in many places as we hiked onward toward the trail head:

I endeavored to keep the dogs closer to me than I usually do, calling them back to me whenever they got farther ahead than I'd like. They'd run back to see what I wanted and get patted and praised:

There were still sharp drop-offs in places, but the truly dangerous cliffs were behind us at that point:

There were still some dangerously icy spots, however, and I saw one woman take a terrible fall. She got right back up and continued on, though. Apparently her dignity was hurt more than her backside:

I lifted Fergus up onto this tree trunk for a photo op and you can see he's not thrilled with the idea. I'd have lifted him back down but he jumped before I got there, landing on the slick ice, his legs splaying out. But he wasn't hurt and wasn't worried about his dignity either. Fergus was having a grand time:

We continued down through beautiful forests on our way back to the trail head:

I put the dogs on their leashes again when we were almost back to our car. I advised a man on his way up the mountain about which trails were dangerously icy and Seamus said a doggy hello to a Border Collie who was just starting up with her owner. But for us, the hike was over and it was time to drive home where both Wally and Winky were waiting patiently and needing a bathroom break:

Monument Mountain - Part 2

It was a beautiful Sunday and I'd taken the dogs to Monument Mountain in the Berkshires of Massachusetts. The beginning of the trail was very icy and I'd kept the dogs on leashes. But when the trail became less icy and I'd seen no other hikers, I let the dogs run and play. Even Seamus did a bit of romping - kind of like a brontosaurus at play, but romping nonetheless:

The trail was brightened and ornamented with emerald mosses, rufous pine needles, cherry-red Partridgeberries and white quartzite:

And Mountain Laurels were everywhere. This trail would be spectacular when they bloom in the spring:

But the "Silly Sisters" missed all that natural beauty, preferring instead to run and wrestle:

The trail took a sharp turn upward, climbing steeply to what appeared to be an overlook. I considered putting the dogs back on leashes right then but figured I'd need my hands free to get up there:

All four dogs are in this photo. Can you find them?:

Daphne played mountain goat:

I was beginning to see some steep cliffs and getting nervous about the dogs' playing. But I let them continue for the time being:

You can see in this photo that we were getting close to some sharp drop-offs:

I called the dogs to my side and attached their leashes:

And there it was, our first scenic overlook across some Berkshire Mountains:

And down below us was the Great Barrington high school. But this wasn't the top of the mountain. We had more climbing to do. I'll post more tomorrow:

Lots Of Mushrooms On The Trail To Jug End Ridge

The dogs and I were hiking up to Jug End Ridge and I had marveled at the great variety of beautiful mushrooms all along the trail. But when I saw several bright PURPLE mushrooms, I knew I'd seen the best of them all:

And right near by were these fluorescent, DayGlo orange beauties. The young ones look like typical toadstools, but the older ones were upturned like Marilyn Monroe's skirt as she stood over a subway grate:

And just so you won't think that all mushrooms are pretty, I photographed this ugly monster which looked to me as if an Ogre had pooped alongside the trail:

There were Mountain Laurels aplenty on both sides of the trail, though none of them grew to much height. At this point in the hike, Seamus still had lots of energy:

And the two "Silly Sisters" never run out of energy. Every waking moment is an opportunity for them to run, wrestle, play and get into trouble:

Small Sassafras trees grew all along the trail but there were no full size trees. In fact, I saw no Sassafras taller than about two feet. I finally decided that they must be able to flower and bear seed at a young age and in this harsh environment, only live a few years:

A very large white fringed mushroom with an orange center:

And an abundance of Coral Fungi, intricate little clumps of white loveliness:

I was becoming tired by this time and my toes were beginning to hurt. I might have turned back right then and there except that I could see blue sky off to our right and I could smell the sun's warmth heating the pine needles on the rocky ridge. I knew we were getting close:

And we passed by these orange mushrooms with sprinkles. We were getting close to our goal, so I kept hiking. I'll post more tomorrow:

Beginning The Hike Up Jug End Ridge

Tropical Storm Irene presented me with not much of anything except a lot of rain, nothing I hadn't seen before. In fact, by the afternoon it was almost over and I went to the gym and the grocery store, complete unaware of the devastation that other places all around me had suffered.

The next morning, still not realizing that there'd been a lot of damage, I drove to Mount Everett Reservation in northwestern Massachusetts to hike Jug End Ridge. I found some washed out roads on my way there and heard news reports of the destruction some places had suffered. When I arrived at the Mount Everett Reservation, I found the gate locked. I figured either someone hadn't gotten out of bed early enough or Irene had washed out the mountain road. It was perhaps two miles to the trail head, so I parked my car and began to walk up the road:

I quickly discovered that the reason for the locked gate was the devastated road which would have been completely impassible for my car. But my feet still worked and the dogs were happy to be out, so we kept heading upwards:

It was about two miles to the parking area and to lovely Guilder Pond:

And on the way, Fergus posed in front of a very large Mountain Laurel bush, possibly the same bush I photographed in full bloom earlier in the year:

And just past the parking and picnic area, I joined the Appalachian trail which passes by, going right up over the peak of Mount Everett, down to the parking area and then up to Jug End Ridge, which is where we were heading:

The trail entered the woods looking pleasant, level and easy. The sun was shining and I quickly forgot about Tropical Storm Irene. Most of the brush alongside the trail was Mountain Laurel:

But then I began to encounter lots of wet trails. In this spot, someone had built a kind of log bridge. I used it but the dogs seemed to think it was silly:

Fascinating mushrooms of many varieties had sprung up in the mosses all around (and in) the trail:

And the trail got wetter. The dogs walked right through the water but I endeavored to rock hop or find alternate routes:

And then the trail became a veritable stream. I was able, however, to walk along the sides, out of the water:

And I continued to be amazed by all the mushrooms. This family of apple red fungi was so stunning that I decided to take photos of all the different kinds I could find along the way:

The dogs uttered a startling "W OOF!" and I looked up to discover another hiker with a large yellow Pit Bull/Lab mix:

The dog was named Everett (after the mountain) and was exceeding well behaved and playful, a wonderful combination. He and Seamus played and then Everett chased the Papillons for a bit. I discussed hiking with dogs with Everett's dad and then they moved on ahead of us. We were well on our way. I'll post more tomorrow:

Part 5, Mountain Laurel Heaven

The dogs and I had hiked to the top of Mount Everett and back down. But before beginning the trip back home, we stopped at beautiful Guilder Pond to enjoy the views and get refreshed:

Seamus was sorely tempted to wade right in as he usually does, but for some reason did not. I was happy that he did not cover himself with mud. But all the dogs were fascinated by the shoreline and investigated it carefully:

My little red car waited for us beneath a canopy of cedar and hemlock:

At this lower altitude, the Mountain Laurel was still mostly in the bud stage, though still lovely. Nevertheless, I knew that we'd pass through a forest of full blooms on our way down the access road. I was looking forward to it:

After one last parting shot of beautiful Guilder Pond, the dogs and I piled back into the car and began our journey down the access road:

As we descended the mountain, the Mountain Laurels became taller and more numerous. Still mostly in the bud stage, I kept alert for the spots I'd seen on the way in where it was in full bloom

And then we were at a low enough altitude for the Mountain Laurel to be mostly fully open. I was not disappointed:

This surely is one of nature's most beautiful plants, and a woodland filled with them is a breathtaking sight:

Mountain Laurels are not tiny bushes. Just look at this one towering above my parked car:

When our hike was over and we were on our way home, I stopped for a cold diet sports drink (well, I actually had 3 of them because I was dehydrated). And then we drove along the small highways through Copake Falls and Hillsdale, New York on our way to the Taconic Parkway. But I couldn't resist stopping for one last photo of this totally unique little shop along the way. I suppose I should have stopped in to see what they had for sale, but in truth I was tired. So I snapped a photo and continued on my way toward home: