Late Winter at Round Valley

I spotted this petrified polar bear drifting in the shallow chilly waters of Round Valley reservoir yesterday afternoon. How it got there I do not know. But I do know this is one fine place to stroll with numerous woodland paths and watery vistas. All at once I felt I was in the Highlands of Scotland and the backcountry of Yosemite.

A Fine Winter's Walk Along the Black River

Frost

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village though;

He will not see me stopping here

To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer

To stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lake

The coldest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound's the sweep

Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep.

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

     Robert Frost

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Walk On!

time to start ambling about once again. and in the event you haven't read it of late, The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood

and sorry I could not travel both

and be one traveller, long I stood

and looked down one as far as I could

to where it bent in the undergrowth.

Then took the other, as just as fair

and having perhaps the better claim

because it was grassy and wanted wear;

though as for that the passing there

had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay

in leaves no step had trodden black.

oh, I kept the first for another day!

yet knowing how way leads on to way

I doubted I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

somewhere ages and ages hence:

two roads diverged in a wood, and I--

I took the one less travelled by,

and that has made all the difference.

Ah Frost, he had a lover's quarrel with the world.

Lost!

No, it wasn't members of GHBW who were lost yesterday at Buttermilk Falls in bucolic Mendham, NJ. Seven adults and nine kiddies took in the pastoral sights and sites whilst handling the local fauna and inhaling the dandy spring flora. 

No, twas not us who vanished into the bear-infested woods, but rather the majority of the digital images of our earthly spirits, which mostly came out jumbled and distorted on my canon's compact flash card. me knows not why. could be because buttermilk falls is an old iroquois burial ground and the great spirit put the whammy on my pocket digicam. or could be further prove that technology ain't without its flaws.

Fortunately, a few minor gems were preserved so that our presence amongst those dead indians, who we slaughtered unmercifully all those eons ago, can be documented. 

Sunday May 4

Hark! Another stroll out on the horizon!

Yes, after a long lazy layoff wherein I fell out of this tree, broke my tibia, and put on 20 lbs., it's time again to stroll.

Weather looks a little iffy for Sunday but we'll give it a try.

Time: 1pm. Place: Buttermilk Falls in Mendham.

Directions:  Center of Mendham (Black Horse Inn. ) Take Mountain Ave. north. It will turn into Calais Rd. beyond Mountainside Rd. Continue straight up Calais for a couple miles. Right before the dead end turn left onto Parkwood Lane. Drive down Parkwood to the parking lot on the left.

good walking!

Vipers, Mastodons, Willy's D

An Impromptu Walk on Sunday along the Zambezi River in British Honduras spilled forth a plethora of riches. First Adam S. and sidekick Matthew L. uncovered mastodon bones, which, according to resident animal authority Dr. Jamie M., date back some seven billion years.

Next the intrepid explorers stumbled upon a river rattler, a very venomous viper, that chased our young ones, bit two of them (Molly J. and Elizabeth S.), but fortunately resident venomous viper authority Patrick L. was able to suck the venom from the youngsters' legs so we could continue our trek through the wilds.

Next we stumbled upon an ancient stainless steel deloren, which resident windbag Willy S. promptly declared his own.

And finally we gathered to break bread, and wind, before setting off for home and settling in for 12 consecutive hrs. of masters coverage.

Hacklebarney Park

As the economy bursts and budget cuts in the garden state bloom (including the closing of several state parks) one small gem remains constant: pristine Hacklebarney Park in Chester, NJ. My mom took me to Hacklebarney when I was just a tot, and now here comes Elizabeth along with chums Matthew, Gracyn, and Sophia.

Also on hand were Mrs. S., H. Santoro, G & B Byrnes, and Mr. & Mrs James Rudolph Vanderpoel of Hastings on the Hudson, NY.

Twas a fine hike on an early spring day. No one was hurt. No one fought. Life was good.

Through the Looking Glass

alice (above) the mad hatter (my bride) and i will be walking this sunday at high noon from hacklebarney park in chester. the park offers excellent trails, pleasant scenery, a river where the kiddies can throw rocks and get their knickers wet, and a nice dose of tranquility. 

so come on out for a wee stroll on a fine spring afternoon.

if you need directions call me at 234-9383 or email at tbillsimpson@mac.com