Garden 2014: Snow Edition

In spite of today's snow (and last week's, and the week before's, and before that...), our garden is already coming along. 

This is what the garden looked like for most of the winter. We covered the beds with straw in the fall. By Christmas, nearly everything was done except for the kale, which made it until the cold snap in January where we had temperatures down around zero degrees. Sunday, Michael turned three beds over, working the straw into the soil. I planted peas, potatoes, and onions.

I planted garlic last fall and it is coming up. A few of them have cold damage on the ends of their leaves, but they are otherwise thriving.

I also planted spinach last fall in one of the cold frames. Remarkably, it survived just fine. It grew too slowly to pick every day over the winter, but now that it is a bit warmer and the days are getting longer, I'm having it in my salads almost every day.

I planted a number of different cool season crops (kale, broccoli, cauliflower, brussels sprouts, etc) in the other cold frame about a month ago. Last year I found that the cool season vegetables I started outside in the cold frame were much stronger than those I started inside. This is a radish sprout.

Inside, our kitchen table is covered with paper cups and heat mats. I have started my tomatoes. These are Brandywines. I also have Cherokee Purples, Henderson Pinks, Sun Gold Cherry Tomatoes, and Austin Pears.

My leeks are a couple of weeks old.

 Lettuce just starting to come up.

In a sure sign that winter is ending, my hellebores are blooming.

Spring Riding: Prettyboy Dam and Tailwinds

Spring has been stubbornly refusing to show itself this year. We've had promises of 60 degree weather that never materialized, to say nothing of temperatures, say, in the 70s. Yesterday looked like it was going to be another day like that. When Michael, our friend, and I arrived at the Oregon Ridge parking lot, about 15 minutes north of the Baltimore Beltway, it was cloudy, windy, and cold. It even vaguely looked like it might rain. Nothing makes you want to ride like shivering in the parking lot in spandex.

Things rapidly improved, however. We got underway and the sun came out. By the tenth mile, we had to stop and peel off a layer of clothing. The wind never abated, but after lunch, our route aligned perfectly such that we had a strong tailwind for a good portion of the ride. There is nothing quite like getting blown up a hill at over 20 miles per hour. Of course, when it wasn't at our backs, it was a wicked crosswind bent on blowing us over. I have done a lot of soul-crushing rides where it seems like the wind is in your face no matter which way you turn. I have even fought the wind all the way out on a ride, only to have it change direction right when I reached the turnaround, so I got to fight it all the way back. This might be the first ride that I've done where the wind seemed like it was at our backs most of the time, no matter which way we turned. It was a good day and a beautiful ride, for a total of 73 miles.

All of the pictures were taken with my phone, so the quality is what it is.

A railroad bridge over the road near New Freedom, Pennsylvania.

 A pretty creek near the railroad bridge.

The spillway of Prettyboy Dam, which was built in 1932 on the Gunpowder. Prettyboy Reservoir is one of the water sources for the city of Baltimore.

Looking downstream below the dam towards Gunpowder Falls State Park.

Windy Day on Skyline Drive

Just a quick post and a couple of pictures from our ride on Saturday. We drove out to Skyline Drive in Shenandoah National Park to do some climbing. While it wasn't as warm out there as it was in the DC area, it was pretty nice. The wind, however, added an extra element to the ride. Descending with (what felt like) 40 mph cross winds is...exciting. Michael, a friend, and I are training for a big ride coming up in less than two months, so there are going to be more cycling posts.

Michael at the overlook at milepost 17 on the way back to Front Royal.

My bike admiring the view of Old Rag from milepost 17.

Also, thank you to anyone who contributed to my friends' Kickstarter Campaign because of my last post. They made their goal.

Almost Alpine

I don't generally promote* products or causes on here, but friends of mine are working on a movie called Almost Alpine. It is a climbing mockumentary. I've seen an early draft and it was hilarious. If you enjoy spending time in the outdoors, I'm pretty sure you would like it, too. You can read more about the project here. They have started a Kickstarter Campaign to raise the final production costs. They are almost to their goal, so I thought I would give them a shout out here to help them make it.

*I'm not receiving anything in return for this post.

Photo from the Almost Alpine Kickstarter page.

Little North Mountain in the Rain

Little North Mountain is a wonderful, often overlooked, mid-length hike in the Great North Mountain area of the George Washington National Forest. It is overshadowed by its flashier neighbors, Big Schloss and Tibbet Knob. Finding the trailhead is a little bit of a test of map-reading skills. The hike starts at a nondescript pullout on rural highway southwest of Strassburg, Virginia. The pullout is easy to miss. There are no signs, and worse yet, there is a larger pullout literally around the next corner.

Six of us (eight, if you include the dogs) set out under gray skies. At first, the Tea Hollow Trail (really, an old roadbed) is easy to follow and has the appearance of having been maintained sometime in the last fifty years. The road follows Cove Run up the valley, towards the saddle between Tea and Little North Mountains. About half a mile in, there is a dirt berm across the roadbed and beyond that, it sort of all falls apart. The road bed is easy enough to keep track of, but there are a lot of blowdowns. A lot. If anyone has carried a saw into Tea Hollow in the last twenty years, they certainly didn't use it to clear the path. This isn't anything new. It looks exactly the same as it did two years ago. Then there is the greenbriar, that tears at pantlegs and skin. All of this is before the official bushwhack starts, three miles into the hike. I actually enjoy picking my way through all of that. It sort of adds to the adventure. The person who had to weave his dog's leash through each of the blowdowns didn't enjoy that part of the hike quite as much.

The road eventually just disappears and we were left to hike up the valley. It is a simple enough bushwhack, because one basically just has to follow Cove Run. The spring has a pretty little pool surrounded by moss-covered rocks. Nearby, we picked up the path up to the ridge. I think this path exists for Tuscarora Trail hikers who need to find water.

Just as we arrived on the ridge and the Tuscarora Trail, it started to rain. The temperature dropped steadily and the wind picked up. We also started to run into remnants of snow on the trail. We knew the front was coming in, so we were prepared, but I have to say, high 30s and rain aren't my favorite hiking conditions. The hike along the top of Little North Mountain was pleasant and easy. The clouds had rolled in, so we didn't get any views, but it is a nice hike anyway.

This is the hike if you are looking for solitude. We didn't see anyone else all day. The only downside of the hike is the mile walk back to the car along the road.

Pictures (click to enlarge):

 A white fungus on a fallen branch.

 Leaves trapped under ice.

 Two members of our group following Cove Run towards the Tuscarora Trail.

 The Tuscarora Trail on top of Little North Mountain.

By the end of the hike, the clouds had settled down onto the mountain and we were hiking in the fog. This is the view to the east from the trail.

Old Rag: Deep Snow Edition

It snowed a lot here last Thursday. Even in the city, we had eight inches or so. I got a little snowshoeing in on Friday with some friends at Greenbelt Park, but with rumors of two feet out in the mountains, a little local snowshoeing wasn't going to suffice. We also had two boxes to check: 1) Michael had never snowshoed Old Rag; and 2) Until yesterday, Michael and I had hiked Old Rag every month of the year - except February. We realized that a few years ago, but there were always higher priority places to go (after all, we've been up there...oh...a lot). Two feet of snow changed the equation. We met four friends in the parking lot and promptly got our car stuck in a bit of deep snow. It really didn't look that deep and we parked next to a car with similar clearance (which might still be there). With a little push, we parked in a better spot and we were on our way up the road to the trailhead.

At the trailhead, more than a foot of crusty, heavy snow was on the ground. Enough people had hiked the Ridge Trail before us that there was a path, but it was too narrow for snowshoes. Where there was enough room, we broke a trail beside the path. As we climbed, the snow got softer and fluffier. We stopped at the first false summit for lunch before tackling the rock scramble. Just before the rock scramble, I stowed my snowshoes and put on microspikes since snowshoes aren't very maneuverable. When I snowshoed Old Rag three years ago, the first part of the scramble was the diciest: an inch of ice coating all of the rocks. This time, we were lucky as many of the crevices were filled with deep snow, the boulders were dry, and there was very little ice. The deep snow, while making the whole hike a lot more work (and more rewarding), actually made some of the areas on the rock scramble easier.

There were fewer tracks beyond that first drop. We did appreciate that someone else post-holed through drifts that came over my knees. There was easily two feet of snow on the ground and the drifts were a lot higher than that. By the time we reached another false summit, it had clouded over and we could see snow falling on mountains to the west and south. At the summit, snow fell steadily. Another first: That is the first time I've been on Old Rag when it was snowing. In spite of the weather, the ravens floated and played on the wind around the summit.

The descent down the Saddle Trail was fun. Soft, fluffy snow made for easy snowshoeing. The fire road, was another story. We were back to the beaten path that was too narrow for snowshoes and crusty snow that was exhausting to snowshoe on. We changed back to the microspikes and just walked down in the path. With better snow, we would definitely have enjoyed snowshoeing all the way down. We were also running out of daylight and we could walk in the path faster than we could punch through hard snow. We arrived back at the car at dusk. I couldn't have asked for a better day, be it crowds, weather, or conditions. We saw fewer than ten people on a mountain that can be completely overrun.

BTW, if you are headed up there in the next few weeks, traction devices are a must. As the snow that is up there now melts, it will get a lot icier.

 Old Rag from the road near Sharp Rock Vinyards. It started out as a perfect bluebird day.

 Making our way up the Ridge Trail.

The view from the first false summit, looking south. Clouds had started moving in, but it was still bright that direction.

A few minutes later, the view of Robertson to the west from the beginning of the rock scramble. We could see bands of snow falling to the west and south at this point.

 Scrambling up through deep snow.

Although there was less ice than I've seen in the past, that doesn't mean we avoided it entirely. This spot seems to ice over for most of the winter.

Climbing up through the Chute, which is usually the most challenging move in the rock scramble. When not filled with snow, this move involves hauling oneself up and over a large rock and then up into a steep crevice that appears to have no handholds (it does, but you have to look for them). Snow was packed into it, so it was a slippery walk up instead.

 A cool drift along one of the narrow ridges.

 The spot where I usually take a picture. This is the most snow I've ever seen on it.

 Looking down Weakley Hollow from the summit. Snow fell steadily at this point.

The summit from the Saddle Trail. If you click to enlarge, ravens are visible in the air just to the left of the summit.

Great Falls: Avoiding the Crowds

Sunday was beautiful, especially for the beginning of February. Since Michael and I were invited to a party for a particular football game that night, we decided to a local hike. After some deliberation, we landed on Great Falls. To be honest, we've avoided the Billy Goat Trail at Great Falls in Maryland like the plague. Michael and I hiked Loop A once, several years ago. We went on a Saturday afternoon in October during fall colors. Talk about a trail that has all of the challenges and problems of Old Rag (complete with a rock scramble), but compounded by the fact that it is ten minutes from the Beltway and half as long of a hike. I think we were out there with most of the rest of the city. The crowds were so overwhelming that we didn't even make it to Olmstead Island, but some recent posts on hiking forums about hiking there made me want to try again.

We picked up a friend and headed out early Sunday morning. To beat the crowds, we hiked Olmstead Island first, then Loop A of the Billy Goat Trail (the most popular), followed by Loops B and C, a total of about 10.5 miles. When we arrived, the fee station hadn't even opened. We saw a handful of people on the boardwalk on Olmstead Island. We probably encountered fewer than a dozen people each on Loops A, B, and C. We returned to the car via the C&O Towpath, which was fairly crowded by mid-afternoon, when we were on our way back. Given the warm weather on Sunday, we managed to avoid the crowds pretty successfully.

Great Falls of the Potomac River from Olmstead Island. The weather on Sunday couldn't have been better. By mid-afternoon, it was almost 60 degrees.

A smaller waterfall on Olmstead Island.

 Ice crystals in a boot track on the Billy Goat Trail Loop A.

A frozen pool along the trail. These little pools are important to amphibians in the area.

The Potomac River from Loop A.

Shells on Purple Horse Beach.

Rocks worn by the strong currents of the Potomac on Purple Horse Beach. I did a search to find out why the beach is so named. Unfortunately, the first page of google hits were for drownings at the beach (the current in the river is deceptively strong, even where it looks placid. The Washington Post did an excellent story last year on why the river is so dangerous around Great Falls).

 Ice and some wicked standing waves on the river.

On Loop B, we saw a lot of evidence of beaver activity. The teeth marks on this tree are pretty impressive.

 They are even more impressive when looking at the whole tree trunk.

 A Great Blue Heron on the C&O Canal.

The canal was frozen over in most places.

On our way back, a Red Shouldered Hawk (Thank you, Katrina! if anyone knows the species, please let me know) swooped low over us and landed in a Sycamore Tree across the canal. In this picture, it is watching a squirrel below it.

By afternoon, the skies were overcast, giving the frozen canal a steel blue color.

An island in the canal.