Starting The New Year Out Right

It’s a chilly one this first morning of 2009 – two below – but, as is often the case when it’s this cold, the sky is clear and sunshine is calling me outside.

After a power breakfast of four eggs, a bowl of raisin bran with extra raisins, a banana and two cups of tea, I am off to my favorite, close-to-home escape – the Zoar Valley gorge. There isn’t much snow, most of the three feet that was on the ground here just last week melted away during a warm spell, so I won’t need snowshoes, just warm clothes and my trusty hiking boots. (My hiking boots feel like a natural extension of my feet; I rely on them completely. Whenever I am climbing a cliff, descending into a steep ravine or hopping from rock to rock to cross a creek, all with thirty pounds of camera equipment on my back, I know I can count on them to provide excellent traction and ankle-saving stability. That’s why it is so worth it to me to spend big bucks on a high quality, proper fitting pair, not to mention that, despite all the hiker miles I log, they last a long, long time - my boots truly become my good friends.)

Today I will hike the north rim trail to enjoy the numerous views, visit my Favorite Frozen Waterfalls and end up at The Throne (more about The Throne later). There are no other human footprints here, just those of the four legged variety – deer, coyote, rabbits and fox are among the ones I notice. My own private wilderness. The muddy water is roaring deep down in the canyon but otherwise it’s very quiet, not a breath of wind. One by one, I pass all my favorite landmarks: first, the Family Clump, a group of about ten large trees all seemingly sprouted from the same roots, yet with separate trunks but very close together.

Next comes the Knife Edge Ridge, an anomaly really, a lone spine of earth descending all the way down to the water below with sheer cliffs surrounding it. Why it hasn’t eroded away like everything else around it, I don’t know. The view from the top of the ridge is awesome – the serpentine gorge winds away from you in both directions and the massive fluted cliffs across the way are decorated with icicles and a dusting of snow highlighting the fluted textures.

As far as I can tell this area along the rim where the trail is has never been logged - there are some monster trees here - mostly oaks, beeches, hemlocks and a tree with deeply furrowed bark that no one that I’ve brought here has been able to definitively identify. There is one red oak that I always visit in particular; it’s so impressive - at least six or seven feet wide at its base. Somehow I can feel its vigor, its alive-ness. It has been here a long, long time - based on articles I have read, I would estimate at least three to four hundred years, six to eight times longer than I myself have been here on earth.

The footing is slippery up and down the frequent ravines, about six inches of fluffy snow hides a layer of loose leaves below and it’s easy to start sliding. At times, I find it necessary to walk sideways, using the full length of the boot sole to dig in for traction. A few times I must plunge my bare hands into the cold snow to arrest a fall.

But nothing compares to the slipperiness I will soon encounter. At the bottom of the steepest ravine is a creek featuring my Favorite Frozen Waterfalls. They’re my favorite not because they’re big - they aren’t, just a few feet tall, nor because there’s anything really unusual about them, they are certainly pretty in a diminutive sort of way, but because in winter, beautiful ice formations form on and around them, especially after a thaw then a quick re-freeze like happened in the last couple of days.

It’s treacherously slippery down here and I’ve forgotten to bring my new Kahtoola Microspikes (think ice chains for the feet, you slip them on over your boots when you need them.) And besides the slickness, the ice isn’t very thick, just a skin really, and I break through each time I try to cross it, coming dangerously close to getting a hot foot – or a very cold foot in this case - definitely not recommended when it’s this frigid out.

Despite the dangers, I manage to move around enough to shoot a roll of film, then cross the stream and move on to my last stop for the day – The Throne. The Throne is my name for a large, flat rock that juts out of the side of a cliff - the best seat in the house. Perfectly sized for a couple of rear ends and backpacks, the 270 degree view of the river and cliffs is breathtaking. In the summer, it’s safe to reach and there is no better place in my estimation than here for a little back-of-the-beyond picnic. Today however, the throne is covered with snow and I don’t want to get too close to the edge when it’s this slippery, so I take in the view standing about ten feet back.

By now the sun is getting low in the sky (short days this time of year!) and it’s time to begin the hike back. I amble slowly, not really wanting to leave this paradise. I take in all the same views and admire all the same landmarks that I did coming in - I never tire of them. When I pop my head out of the woods at the beginning of the trail, I see the sky is aglow with a beautiful sunset - a most fitting end to this little adventure – I feel I’ve started out this New Year right!