The photo was taken by R. Reid on Road 550 near Buffalo Creek. Seems to be 'greening up' more than usual.

The mountain bike season is off with a crackle here. A crackle and a crunch -- the sweet sound of mountain bike tires rolling over Pikes Peak granite.

Canoeing a dry river is no fun!

The last year that Florida had a drought spring season we decided to go canoeing without checking the water level of the Withlacoochee River before heading out. Dumb, very dumb!

We packed for a long weekend where we would camp along the river. We loaded the canoe with plenty of varies fluides, some food, and camping gear. No problem when the Withlacoochee River is at its normal water level, but very bad when the river is low.

In the mornings my husband was very pissy because we dragged the canoe more than we paddled the canoe. In the afternoons, being the gentleman he is, he let me take the pissy role about dragging the canoe, and in the evenings we consoled ourselves from our supplies of varies fluides.

We started writing Scavenger Hike Adventures Rocky Mountain National Park about two years ago.  We spent a couple of weeks at Rocky in 2005 and met with rangers and experts and looked around.  What a wonderful hiking park.  Kat and I fell in love with Rocky.  We read every book available and last year Kat rented a house in Estes Park overlooking Twin Sisters pinnacles and hiked everyday with rangers, historians and experts and locals.   I was really quite jealous.  I used every piece of my available time and joined her.

 It gave us stomach aches when we left Estes Park and returned to the Smokies.  Now two years later from our first research visit and over a thousand  hours of research and hiking and the book will be released in just a few weeks!!!  Whew.  Kat is out of town up north and I am thinking I'll take my dog down to some isolated campsite and sleep and read some books on Shenandoah National Park; our next book project.  We have been researching Shenandoah and will head out there in a couple of weeks to begin the wonderful job of exploring and creating Scavenger Hike Adventures.  We will give provide a journal update on that new adventure right here.

SNOWFLAKES ON THE SNAKE

by Cliff Jacobson

As winter sets in, Cliff’s “over 50” crew paddles 280 miles on the Snake River in Canada’s Yukon Territories.

Around midnight I awake to an icy breeze. Susie loves fresh air, and as is her habit, she has left her vestibule wide open. Chilling air pours in and I snug deep into my down sleeping bag. Minutes later, I hear the determined patter of rain. Oh no, not again! It is the fifth day of our canoe trip and it has rained every day. This time it is particularly nasty—icy and persistent, the kind that chills you to the bone. I shine my light on the large dial thermometer that hangs off our vestibule. Thirty-four degrees. Nothing new; it has been below freezing every night and in the forties during the day.

Dear Reader:

I discovered the joys of camping at the age of 12 in a rustic Scout camp set deep in the Michigan woods. It was 1952, just before the dawn of nylon tents and synthetic clothes. Aluminum canoes were hot off the Grumman forms, though I’d never seen one. Deep down, I believed they’d never replace the glorious wood-ribbed Old Towns and Thompsons.

Like most kids my age, I had little money for outdoor gear. What I earned by picking pop bottles off the roadway went for a secondhand bike or a Randolph Scott movie. My camping outfit was carefully assembled from a ragtag assortment of military surplus and Salvation Army store items. I knew only one kid who had equipment that was new.

Paddling into a Norman Rockwell reality. There is nothing more enjoyable for me than being quiet with nature.

One such experience was canoeing down the Historic Suwannee River which starts in Georgia's Okefenokee Swamp, and flows into the Gulf of Mexico.   

We were paddling south when we passed a group of young boys using a rope swing to swing into the Suwannee River. The sun was warm, (but not hot) the trees were full of singing birds, and the only human noise was the laughter of the children relishing in their summer fun. That is one experience that keeps me going back to Florida's streams.