Dec122023December 12, 2023December 12, 2023by Glitterchicken

Secrets of The Appalachian Trail

Posted in History, Nature, Sports & Recreation
Benton MacKaye, originator of the Appalachian Trail

The Appalachian Trail is iconic. You’ve probably heard of it—the 2,190+ foot long hiking trail nicknamed the “AT” that stretches all the way from Georgia to Maine? And if you’ve ever lived anywhere near the East Coast of the U.S., chances are you either know someone or know someone who knows someone who hiked the entire trail.[1]  This massive undertaking, known as “thru-hiking” is a pop culture trend —there are hundreds of books detailing people’s experiences thru-hiking the AT, the most famous being Grandma Gatewood’s Walk (the inspiring story of the first woman who thru-hiked the AT alone at age 67 and who used her celebrity to save the trail from extinction),[2] Hollywood movies about thru-hikes that went wrong — both comedically (A Walk in the Woods) and horrifically (Beacon Point)[3], and at least one college offering students credit for accomplishing thru-hikes![4] And then there are those folks who love a challenge and make it their life’s goal to break an AT thru-hiking record, such as the fastest time to complete the trail (Karel Sabbe: 41 days, 7 hours, and 39 minutes), most hikes completed (Warren Doyle: 9 thru-hikes and 9 section hikes) and oldest person to thru-hike the AT (M.J. “Nimblewill Nomad” Eberhart: 83 years old).[5]

Pinnacles Picnic Area, Shenandoah National Park, VA

But the Appalachian Trail isn’t just about thru-hiking. In fact, Benton MacKaye, the man who first proposed the concept of the AT wasn’t thinking about thru-hiking at all. He was grieving the loss of his wife, Jessie Hardy “Betty” Stubbs MacKaye, who suffered bouts of severe anxiety and committed suicide by drowning herself in the East River at the age of 45. In 1921, MacKaye, a forester, conservationist, and community planner, devastated by his wife’s tragic death, left their home in New York City to stay at his friend Harris Whitaker’s farm in western New Jersey that was “high in the mountains…and not a soul in sight.”[6] Here, MacKaye turned to the task of finding solutions to what he called “the problem of living”— the increased stresses upon the population caused by rapid urbanization and growing economic disparities between the cities and rural areas in the aftermath of WWI. MacKaye envisioned a footpath along the ridges of the Appalachian mountains accessible to the residents of metropolitan areas along the Eastern seaboard that would not just promote economic well-being for small towns in the foothills, but also provide a form of wilderness therapy for city dwellers battling mental health issues.[7]  

Jessie "Betty" Hardy Stubbs MacKaye

In October 1921, long before science confirmed the detrimentaleffects of stress upon mental health, in his groundbreaking essay proposing “An Appalachian Trail” that was edited by Whitaker and published in The Journal of the American Institute of Architects, MacKaye wrote: ”Most sanitariums now established are perfectly useless to those afflicted with mental disease—the most terrible, usually, of any disease. Many of these sufferers could be cured. But not merely by ‘treatment.’ They need acres not medicine. Thousands of acres of this mountain land should be devoted to them with whole communities planned and equipped for their cure.”[8]

Benton MacKaye’s words cut right to the core when you know howpersonally affected he was by his wife’s suicide—a tragic consequence of untreated mental illness. It’s highly likely that Benton was thinking about Betty when he conceived of a multi-state hiking trail because long-distance walking and hiking were among Betty’s favorite pastimes, along with championing progressive causes. A few years before she married Benton, Betty organized and led a walk from New York City to the state capital of Albany—a distance of 148 miles—to advocate for a woman’s suffrage bill! This feat attracted considerable media attention and undoubtedly attracted the attention of MacKaye too as it’s no secret that the MacKaye’s marriage was a partnership of political activism as well as mutual affection.[9]

But why has the origin story of the Appalachian Trail remained asecret when the AT is the most famous footpath in the world attracting 3million visitors each year? I’ve been hiking the AT for decades now, as a“day-hiker,”[10] (someone who hikes the trail all day and goes back to a warm bed at night, or maybe a local brew pub first, a hot tub second, and a warm bed third). I’ve hiked in about half of thestates the AT runs through—VT, NY, PA, MD, VA, WV, and TN. So why did I just learn the story of the MacKayes this year? On my birthday, I decided to visit the Appalachian Trail Conservancy (“ATC”) headquarters, located at the “psychological midpoint” of the AT in Harpers Ferry, WV.[11] I was pleased to meet Dave, concierge of all things AT-related, who bears a striking resemblance to Santa Claus (except skinnier). When I asked Dave about the distinction between the ATC and the Appalachian Mountain Club (“AMC”)[12]of which I’m a member, Dave gave me a detailed explanation of the AT’s origins and directed me to an exhibit containing photographs of Benton MacKaye and excerpts from his illuminating essay, including his idea to utilize the AT’s “acres” as a “cure” for mental illness. I was so touched by MacKaye’s words that tears sprang to my eyes. But I knew I had just scratched the surface; I wanted to learn everything I could about the fascinating couple underlying the myth of the Appalachian Trail.

Dave & Me at ATC HQ, Harpers Ferry, WV

The more I read about the lives of Benton & Betty MacKaye, the more realized why their story might have gotten left out of the AT legend. The MacKayes were socialists who lived during the “First Red Scare” of 1919-1920, which was a time when Americans feared a communist or anarchist revolution in America much like the Bolshevik revolution that had just occurred in Russia in 1917.[13] Although the folks in the MacKayes’ social circle may not have demonized them for their socialist political affiliation, people outside of that circle thought their ideas and tactics were too radical.  For example, when the MacKayes were living in Wisconsin, Benton lost his job at The Milwaukee Leader in the wake of Betty’s controversial proposal for a “bride strike,” where women would withhold sex from their husbands to force them to stop engaging in violence and wars. Brilliant idea but not well received at the time. Sadly, it was after the MacKayes relocated to New York City that Betty’s mental state began rapidly deteriorating. Further evidence suggests that Benton’s theoretical differences with other Appalachian Trail Conference leaders underpinned the reason why he was not chosen to be part of the Executive Committee, despite the fact he delivered the keynote speech at the conference and drafted the constitution.[14]

In the following decades, MacKaye became increasingly disillusioned with the progress of the Appalachian Trail project because he envisioned the AT as a wilderness trail that would serve as a catalyst for social transformation, not necessarily a continuous trail that would serve as a recreational resource as envisioned by other leaders who represented the interests of the hiking community. While the AT may not be the pristine wilderness that MacKaye imagined (for example, Skyline Drive in Shenandoah National Park that MacKaye fought against unsuccessfully is traversed by 1.2 million visitors each year!), that doesn’t mean MacKaye’s transformative vision has gone unfulfilled.

"Nikko" on Skyline Drive, Shenandoah National Park, VA

I have always thought of the Appalachian Trail as a haven—a place of refuge where you can escape noise, pollution, work and family stresses, the toxic political climate, you name it. When you’re out on the AT, everything else disappears. There’s only the white-blazed trail, and the serenity and challenge it offers. The AT is notoriously rocky, so you’ve got to wear boots with good ankle support. To prevent injury, every step you take needs to be a mindful one. You’ll want to choose the pace that works for you—fast enough to maintain your momentum so that you can get to your destination and back before nightfall—but not so fast that you can’t stop to take in the beautiful scenery, eat a snack, take a few pix, and chat with other hikers. There’s an instant feeling of community out on the trail because you know hundreds of feet have trodden where yours have just landed. But you don’t think about how old those hikers were or how in-shape they were or what race they were or what gender they were. You’re immune from the “cancer of comparison” because none of those speculatory statistics will help you achieve your goal, so that self-defeating cycle of negative thoughts (known as rumination) will drift out of your mind if it ever entered in the first place. All that’s left is a sublime sense of peace.[15]

Toadstool, AT trailhead, Great Smoky Mountains National Park, TN

For me, what’s most valuable about hiking the AT is that it gives everyone the chance to engage in a single-minded physical activity surrounded by nature and free from distraction, a rare opportunity in today’s world of frantic multi-tasking in the face of an endless stream of competing demands. Some people call it a Zen-like spiritual practice, some call it "getting in the zone," but no matter what you call it, science supports Benton MacKaye’s hypothesis that walking in nature provides measurable mental health benefits, including the reduction of anxiety and depression.[16] Some of this has to do with endorphins, the “feel-good” hormones our body produces when we exercise, but it’s our reconnection with nature that’s the key to the mental clarity and freedom from rumination that distinguishes hiking from working out at the gym.[17]  If he were alive today, I believe Benton MacKaye would be pleased to know there’s a non-profit all-volunteer organization called HIKE for Mental Health that’s dedicated to organizing hikes to promote the mental health benefits of hiking and raising funds for mental health research and trail conservation.[18]

Ascent to Mary's Rock, Shenandoah National Park, VA

During the COVID pandemic, when wewere all coping with unprecedented stressors without our usual social outlets, I started hiking portions of the Appalachian Trail in Shenandoah National Park between Thanksgiving and Christmas, and by now, it’s become a tradition. The looming approach of these two holidays arriving in rapid succession at the end of the year never fails to fill me with a sense of dread, and I’m not the only one. “Holiday Dread” is a very real thing. Google it and hundreds of articles will pop up. According to a 2019 survey, 61% of Americans dreaded the holidays; a 2021 survey put the number at 48%.[19]  An obvious cause is the fear of overspending in light of the exaggerated focus on obligatory gift-giving, which has intensified due to inflation. But there are also the emotional pangs from missing loved ones who have died or family members estranged by feuds or divorce. And what about just feeling worn-out and exhausted at the end of a long year, like a runner at the end of a marathon, craving rest and relaxation rather than overeating and incessant conversation? But I think it’s the unrealistic expectation of a month-long state of cheerfulness that’s the worst part of all, like when people tell you to smile and you just want to punch them in the face.

This year, on the weekend after Thanksgiving, I hiked the 7.1 miles of the AT from the Pinnacles Picnic Area to Mary’s Rock and back. Although it had been a year ago when I last completed this hike, it felt as if I had just hiked it yesterday. When I reached the summit, which is a special place to me that I envision in my prayers, I was thrilled to find it looked exactly as I had pictured it in my mind! On the way back down, I was suddenly struck by the idea to write this piece about the MacKayes, the origins of the AT, and the mental health benefits of hiking (there’s that cool mental clarity thing again). With Christmas just around the corner, it hasn’t been easy to carve out the time to get these thoughts out of my head and into the computer. But I felt it was absolutely necessary that I did write this now, if only to convince you that it’s precisely at times like these, where you feel the agonizing constraints of time and money and social pressure tightening like a Victorian lady’s corset that you really need to get out in the fresh air and take a hike! Not to diminish your importance here, but the world won’t fall apart if you take a day off from your daily routine. Ask a friend or neighbor to walk your dog. Leave some money for your kids to order takeout. Tell your boss you’re taking time off to fulfill some personal obligations. Give yourself the gift of hiking this Christmas because you’re worth it! Your body, mind, and soul will be eternally grateful.

Mary's Rock Summit, Shenandoah National Park, VA

[1]This probability is an example of the “Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon” principle.See https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Six_Degrees_of_Kevin_Bacon#:~:text=Six%20Degrees%20of%20Kevin%20Bacon%20or%20Bacon's%20Law%20is%20a,ultimately%20leads%20to%20prolific%20American

[2] Veryfew people knew about the AT before Emma Gatewood appeared on TV and SportsIllustrated to shed light on the unsafe stretches of trail and issue a call toaction to maintain and preserve the trail for posterity. For more about“Grandma Gatewood” and her biography written by Ben Montgomery, see https://www.goodreads.com/en/book/show/18527222

[3]This article reviewing the best AT movies (including documentaries where youget a sense of reality) is featured on a blog written by thru-hikers forthru-hikers that also contains a lot of good resources and practical tips foranyone interested in hiking the AT. https://appalachiantrail.com/20140806/10-best-appalachian-trail-movies/

[4]For more info, please see this article about the Emory & Henry College“Semester-A-Trail” program at https://www.backpacker.com/news-and-events/news/emory-and-henry-college-credit-hiking-appalachian-trail/

[5] “NimblewillNomad” is Eberhart’s trail name. Thru-hikers are like an unofficial club thathas established its own trail culture, jargon, and etiquette. A well-known featureof trail culture is the use of “trail names,” which are nicknames thru-hikersuse to refer to each other on the trail. You’re not supposed to make up yourown trail name, your “trail family” are supposed to give it to you, and dependingon how sick and twisted they are, it can be based on something very stupid or embarrassingyou’ve done that will literally follow you wherever you go. For some of  worst trail names ever, see https://www.reddit.com/r/AppalachianTrail/comments/wg90do/worst_trail_names_2022_edition/

[6] FromHarris Whitaker’s letter to Benton MacKaye in 1921, excerpted from TheTragic Origins of the Appalachian Trail (thedailybeast.com)

[7]For more about the life and career of Benton MacKaye, see AppalachianTrail Histories | Benton MacKaye · Builders (appalachiantrailhistory.org)

[8] Ifyou’re a hiker or a nature lover, I strongly encourage you to read MacKaye’sentire proposal. It’s beautifully written from the heart, but also incredibly visionaryand forward-thinking even by today’s standards. AnAppalachian Trail: A Project in Regional Planning | Appalachian TrailConservancy

[9]For more about the life and work of Betty MacKaye, see Biographical Sketchof Jessie Belle Hardy Stubbs MacKaye | Alexander Street Documents

[10] Fora great beginner’s guide to day hiking the AT, see https://appalachiantrail.org/explore/hike-the-a-t/day-hiking/

[11] Establishedin 1925, the Appalachian Trail Conservancy  (“ATC”) is the leading organization tasked by Congressto oversee the maintenance, management, and conservation of the AT andsurrounding lands. https://appalachiantrail.org/explore/faqs/.The precise geographical midpoint of the AT is inaccessible to the generalpublic, so Harpers Ferry is considered the psychological midpoint because it’s closeto the midpoint and accessible to the general public because it’s adjacent to aNational Park.

[12]The Appalachian Mountain Club (“AMC”) is comprised of many local chaptersstretching from the Northeast through the Mid-Atlantic that provide volunteeropportunities for education, conservation, and recreation along the AT. The AMCchapters up in New Hampshire and Maine are particularly robust, offering lovelyvisitor accommodations in lodges and cabins, as well as a variety of courses fromwilderness first aid to landscape and wildlife painting. Home | Appalachian Mountain Club (AMC)(outdoors.org)

[13]For more about the First Red Scare, see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/First_Red_ScareAppalachian

[14]See “Success and Failure” in this wonderful article published on the ATCwebsite. AppalachianTrail Histories | Benton MacKaye · Builders (appalachiantrailhistory.org)

[15]By extolling the mental health benefits of hiking, I am by no means suggestingthat going out for a day hike will eradicate all forms of mental illness andsuicidal tendencies, only that there is scientific evidence indicating that it mayimprove symptoms and possibly prevent suicide. Certainly, if you or someone youknow has been having thoughts of suicide or is severely depressed, contact theAmerican Foundation for Suicide Prevention at https://afsp.org/

[16] Agreat example is this 2105 Stanford study https://news.stanford.edu/2015/06/30/hiking-mental-health-063015/

[17] Thiswarm-hearted blog post written by a thru-hiker discusses 4 ways that hikingimproves your mental health https://thetrek.co/4-ways-hiking-improves-your-mental-health/and it contains a link to a scientific study showing that increasing ourexposure to nature reduces rumination and promotes mental well-being.  https://www.pnas.org/doi/pdf/10.1073/pnas.1510459112

[18]For more information about HIKE for Mental Health, or to donate or volunteer,see https://www.hikeformentalhealth.org/

[19]See https://www.fox5dc.com/news/61-percent-of-americans-dread-the-holidays-because-of-spending-survey-suggests and https://www.lendingtree.com/credit-cards/study/holiday-shopping-sentiments-survey/


Nov302022November 30, 2022June 16, 2023by Glitterchicken

AFRICAN SAFARI

Posted in Nature, Travel

IT SUCKS TO BE A CHEETAH

You may have known that the cheetah is the fastest land animal, capable of going from zero to sixty miles per hour in three seconds. But did you know that the cheetah is considered “vulnerable,” meaning that the cheetah population has declined to the point where it’s on the verge of being added to the endangered species list? [1] Why? Despite their lightning speed, cheetahs are not the strongest animals; they’re preyed upon by lions, leopards, and hyenas. Unlike leopards, cheetahs do not have retractable claws so they can’t climb trees to escape their predators’ attacks; their defenseless cubs are especially likely to be devoured. And if that’s not trouble enough, after cheetahs make a kill, they’ve got to gulp down their dinner as quickly as possible before other animals—even vultures—show up and try to steal their meal. Because cheetahs have relatively small jaws compared with other big cats, it’s not uncommon for cheetahs to abandon their food in the face of aggressive bullies, forcing them to expend the energy to hunt again without adequate nutritional refueling. No wonder why cheetahs are finding it so hard to survive.

Sucks to be a cheetah, right? I had no idea until Kristina Tao told me the facts I just imparted to you. I had always thought it would be sexy to be a cheetah, whizzing around like a bitchin’ Camaro, sinking my claws into flesh, luxuriating in my fabulous coat, the envy of the savanna. But as it turns out, there’s no glamour in being a cheetah; the only thing cheetahs have in common with supermodels is the eternal hunger part! It was Kristina who enlightened me and totally changed my perspective, and not just about cheetahs, but about the entire African safari experience. Hopefully, Kristina’s story will not only open your eyes and your heart and give you a fresh new perspective too.

CHOOSEYOUR OWN ADVENTURE

Kristina Tao’s fascination with cheetahs and leopards started the way it does for most people—from watching spectacular BBC nature programs. But while most people are content to commune with nature without leaving the comfort of their couches, Kristina had the desire to immerse herself in the Animal Kingdom, “where the animals were in charge, not the humans.” A recently retired anesthesiologist and empty-nester, Kristina seized the opportunity to cross the African safari experience off her bucket list in 2019. Her husband, Brian, was totally on board, and he hadn’t even watched any of the BBC shows!

A financial engineer by profession, Brian adopted the role of “travel agent,” researching flight and lodging information and communicating with tour companies. The Taos eventually selected a tour operator based out of Nairobi, Kenya, called Asili Adventure Safaris, that flexibly accommodated the Taos’ atypical requests.[2] Whilethe standard safari is 7 days long, the Taos extended their trip to 10 days in order to increase their chances of animal sightings. Instead of just traveling to one country like most safari-goers, the Taos opted to visit two countries; specifically, Maasai Mara National Reserve in Kenya and Serengeti National Park in Tanzania[3]because different types of animals live in these distinct habitats, thereby boosting the probability of viewing a greater variety of animals. Following similar logic, the Taos deliberately chose to go on safari in August when it is “the peak of Spring, the greenest time, when the grass isn’t too high yet, so you can see the animals better.”

SCOUT’S MOTTO – “BE PREPARED”

Kristina emphasized important health and safety precautions you should take before going on safari, including a mandatory yellow fever shot, and a physician-recommended regimen of antimalarial antibiotics starting 2 days before departure and ending one week after return. Essential travel items in their suitcase were sunblock, brimmed hats, and plenty of mosquito repellent. But there’s one item no one advised them to bring that Kristina highly recommends—a face mask to prevent inhalation of tiny particles while driving along dusty roads![4]

Airfare wasn’t included in Asili’s package, requiring the Taos to arrange their flight well in advance of their tour dates. Brian booked a flight with a Zurich layover because there were no direct flights from the U.S. He also reserved an Airbnb that offered transportation to and from the Nairobi airport. This way, they got a good night’s sleep before their driver picked them up the next morning to begin their great adventure!

GLAMPING SAFARI STYLE

Safari tourists typically behave like gypsies, moving from one tent village to another in pursuit of animals, and the Taos were no exception. Kristina and Brian usually only stayed one night at each tent village, but occasionally, they stayed for 2 or 3 nights in order to increase their chances of spotting certain creatures that were known to frequent a particular area. “But you don’t have to pick up your tent and move it with you.” Kristina said. “The tents are permanent structures and although they have canvas walls, you would never know it.” Canvas is an ideal material for blocking the sun and providing air flow; the zip-up entrance keeps out the mosquitos and pesky monkeys who wouldn’t hesitate to “trash your belongings in search of food!”

Their swanky living accommodations defied Kristina’s expectations. Roughly the size of a 2-car garage, each tent was equipped with modern amenities, including a king-sized bed, double sinks, and a tile shower! “Mosquito nets over the bed were VERY important,” she emphasized.  Sanitary conditions were much better than Kristina had expected too. Everything was clean and they were provided with fresh towels and linens upon request. The Taos made sure to leave a few dollars for their housekeepers each time they checked out of a tent village as they would do in a hotel.

Initially concerned about what the food would be like, Kristina and Brian were pleasantly surprised to find nutritious, flavorful meals made with fresh organic local ingredients. First, you were served a tasty pumpkin or vegetable soup, which was Kristina’s favorite part of the meal. Next, you could go to the buffet, where you could choose free-range poultry or grass-fed meat (occasionally, there was fish or lamb), a staple such as rice, potatoes, or bread, and root vegetables. Brian was particularly fond of the “wonderful honey on fresh bread.” Their diet was so well balanced that Kristina never had to open the beef jerky from Costco she had packed just in case they didn’t get enough protein. The food on Safari “was the ideal healthy diet people strive to achieve.” Plus, they never sufferedfrom any food poisoning or digestive troubles!

Kristina admitted that at first she was scared to go to sleep at night surrounded by noisy wild animals! “You can hear hyenas howling in the distance and feel the heavy vibration of a male lion’s roar. What happens if they crash into your tent?” she wondered. But after a while, she got used to the creature chorus, acknowledging that the animals were not intruders. “It was we humans who were intruding upon their territory.” Eventually, Kristina and Brian got used to living with their animalneighbors so much that they actually enjoyed it. One morning, “we woke up to find 3 gazelles grazing right beside our tent,” and another time, while walking to the dining hall for breakfast, “we were ambushed by a monkey gang looking for food, which we found amusing.”

BABY, WON’T YOU DRIVE MY JEEP?

Jeep drivers for safari tour companies hold high social status in Kenya and Tanzania, not only because they cater to tourists who support the local economy, but also because they’ve got to be good at wearing many hats. Besides being able to handle tank-like vehicles in difficult driving conditions, they’ve got to be resourceful mechanics, tour guides who can communicate with guests from all over the world, experts in animal behavior, and medics in emergency situations.

In Kristina’s opinion, the success of your Safari experience is largely dependent on the competency of your driver. [5]  But it is also important that you clearly state your priorities, hopes, and fears from the outset so that your driver will be better able to customize your adventure according to your individual preferences. Asili provided the Taos with one driver for the Kenyan portion of their tripand a different driver for the Tanzanian portion. Kristina wasn’t shy about informing both drivers that their number one priority was to see the greatest variety of animals they possibly could, and that they were especially hoping to see cheetahs and leopards. Her Kenyan driver knew she was dead serious when Kristina offered to get up as early as 3:00 am and skip the dining room entirely to get a jump start on spotting nocturnal hunters (especially leopards) and migrators who preferred coming out of hiding in the silent hours before the swarming jeep traffic. Her driver told Kristina that it was too dangerous to drive into the park that early in the morning because the roads aren’t lit and they’re terribly bumpy. But he offered to give them the earliest possible departure time each morning, which necessitated talking to the kitchen staff to make take-out breakfast and lunch arrangements.

So while most travelers were still snoozing, Kristina and Brian jumped into their jeep barely before sunrise at 6:00 am, with 2 small paper bags each (one for breakfast and one for lunch) and a thermos filled with coffee or tea. Kristina usually opted for tea, but one morning she chose coffee, which went through her system faster; when she anxiously told her driver she needed him to stop, he was sensitive to her situation, saying: “We must all answer nature’s call!” and found a parking spot that offered Kristina some privacy, or so she thought, until she realized an ostrich was standing a few yards behind her! “If there had been a group of ostriches there, that would have been dangerous,” says Kristina, “but only one ostrich, that was fine,” she laughed. So the moral of the story is: choose tea!

THE PAYOFF IS WORTH THE PRICE

Kristina’s driver wasn’t joking when he said that the condition of the roads leading in and out of the national parks and the road system within the parks present challenges for drivers and passengers alike. Whirlwinds of dust make for poor visibility and can create respiratory difficulties if you inhale too much dust when your windows are rolled down; hence, Kristina’s recommendation to wear a face mask!  Huge ruts in the road created by hundreds of intersecting jeep tire tracks get filled in by tiny stones, requiring jeep drivers to cut their wheels at an angle to traverse the rough surface, producing a jarring “bump, bump, bump” effect on the passengers, especially at faster speeds. Admittedly, it’s the polar opposite of a smooth ride, but it’s well worth it, Kristina says. Jeep drivers talk to each other on the radio all day, communicating intelligence on animals’ exact locations. “Sometimes you have to drive fast in order to get up close to them before they move on,” says Kristina. “And you’re grateful your driver got you there in time.” Witnessing the great migration[6], Kristina poked her head out of the roof of her jeep so that she could get a 360 degree view, and was shocked to see thousands of animals surrounding their jeep! Awestruck, she realized: “We’re like ants to them, barely even noticeable. Because this is THEIR KINGDOM. They have their own lifestyle and social order and we humans have no control over it. We don’t matter here.”

THE HUMAN CONDITION

The Maasai are a semi-nomadic pastoral tribe inhabiting the African Great Lakes region whose lives revolve around their cattle herds, which they believe are a gift from God.[7]Watching Maasai herdsmen by the roadside grazing their cattle in volcanic ash-enriched soils piqued Kristina and Brian’s curiosity, and they decided to visit a Maasai village. Their driver told them that lions were the greatest enemy of the Maasai because lions killed their cattle, and traditionally, a Maasai boy had to prove his manhood by killing a lion and wearing its teeth around his neck; only then could he marry as many wives as he could afford to keep. Now, Maasai elders discourage this coming-of-age ritual due to laws prohibiting lion hunting, but polygamy is still alive and well in Maasai country because a man’s success is not only based on how many head of cattle he has, but also how many children he fathers. Multiple wives guarantee the likelihood of more children and greater social status. Ironically, the Maasai hierarchy resembles that of their nemesis, the lion, where each male rules over a pride of females and cubs.

After making a donation to the chief, whom Kristina suspected of “swallowing their money,” the Taos were allowed to enter a typical Maasai house. At first, it was so dark inside that at first Kristina could not see a thing! After her eyes adjusted, Kristina suddenly she realized there was a mother nursing a baby right next to her! “It was such a tiny room,” Kristina recalled, “maybe 5 by 6 feet across, with no windows or ventilation except for a mug-sized open hole in the roof.” There was no furniture, just an open fire with an aluminum pot, and 2 pieces of clothon the ground that served as a bed. Kristina felt “very sad” to witness such austere living conditions. Kristina explained that when a Maasai woman is ready to marry, she must build her own home by digging a ditch, setting up a circle of sticks in the ground, adding mud to the walls, and lashing it all together. Then, she’s got to wait around hoping for a man to show up! I’m thinking I’d rather be a cheetah.

WHY DON’T WE DO IT IN THE ROAD?

On the Tanzanian portion of their tour, Brian and Kristina opted for take-out breakfast and lunch too. One morning, their driver parked so that they could enjoy a bounce-free breakfast, and while Kristina was peacefully drinking her tea, she suddenly noticed a male lion standing right next to their rear window! A lioness was standing behind their jeep like a lookout! Kristina explained that only lionesses hunt as a team; the male’s job is to ward off potential threats to the safety of the pride; that’s why grazing prey animals like gazelles and wildebeest don’t run scared from roving male lions.

As it turns out, most safari tourists see lots of lions because they’reeverywhere, “like deer,” says Kristina. They really do “act like kings” and they have no problem having sex like no one is looking!  Near the Ngorongoro Crater, Kristina and Brian saw a pair of lions “make love” 7 times by the roadside, after which they took their sweet old time crossing the road, completely stopping traffic. Apparently, the average lion copulates 30-40 times a day during mating season.[8] “Lions rest a lot to conserve energy,” Kristina told me. No wonder they would need to rest if they’re that busy getting busy!

SHE PERSISTED

Another day in Tanzania, while driving along a low section of road that had been flooded due to heavy rains the previous evening, their jeep got stuck in the mud! Kristina worried that they would have to get out of the vehicle, giving the animals an opportunity to attack. Discouraged, Kristina wouldn’t have minded returning to camp if their driver would have suggested it. But what seemed like a big deal to her was only a minor setback to their experienced driver, who convinced Kristina to keep on going, “luckily for us!” Soon after another jeep arrived and helped them out of the ditch, they spotted 2 beautiful cheetahs! And these were not the first cheetahs she saw, Kristina reminded me. First, there was the “feeding cheetah” she saw in Kenya. From 15 feet away, Kristina could hear the sound of bonescrunching as the cheetah chowed down. I guess the lesson here is that you’ve got to be persistent like the cheetah to enjoy the payoff.

YOU DON’T WANT TO MEET A HIPPO IN A DARK ALLEY

Driving past Zebras grazing on a wide flat plain at the foot of Mt. Kilimanjaro, with its snow-capped peak, they came to a riverbed lush with palm trees overhanging the banks. Here, white birds that looked like “kind of like pelicans, and kind of like cranes[9]” were fishing while hippopotami were bathing nearby. Kristina explained that the reason why hippos are always in the water during the day is that they can get sunburned, and they use mud as their sunscreen! Hippopotami hang out in a group called a “bloat” consisting of one male, several females, and their babies. Although this scene was placid enough from a distance, Kristina and Brian didn’t get too close because they had already been warned that hippos can get aggressive towards humans who invade their territory. “Once, we camped by a lake where hippos grazed in the common area between the tents. In every tent, there was a phone so that guests could call security to escort them through the common area at night,” which Kristina found very reassuring, because getting attacked by a hippo is no bueno.[10]

DEAF LEOPARD

On one memorable occasion, while waiting for a herd of gazelles to show up and cross the river, their driver heard some radio intel that prompted him to suddenly turn around and drive so fast that Kristina and Brian had to stand up hold onto their seatbelts. ”Brace for impact!” Kristina warned Brian,” but then they abruptly slowed down. “Look!” said their driver, pointing to a tree about 30 feet away where a leopard was sleeping like a baby on a branch. Their jeep pulled up even closer until they were only 10 feet away! Kristina worried that the sound of the engine would startle the leopard, but their driver reassured her that leopards are so accustomed to jeeps that he won’t feel threatened. Spellbound, Kristina and Brian watched the leopard for 15 minutes, and sure enough, he didn’t seem to notice that they were there. He barely moved, except for a little leg twitch. He didn’t even open his eyes. But Kristina’s eyes were full of “tears of joy thatwent streaming down her cheeks.” Leopards are THE most difficult animals tospot in the savanna. Because they hunt nocturnally, you rarely see them by day and when you do, their spotted coats blend into the grasses so that you can barely get a glimpse of them. Kristina was struck with the realization that she was witnessing something incredibly rare. Her greatest wish for her safari adventure had been fulfilled and she felt fortunate indeed!

HURRY BOY, SHE’S WAITING THERE FOR YOU

If you think you’ll never get to go on safari because it’s prohibitively expensive, think again! Remember that both Kenya and Tanzania are trying hard to attract tourists and the cash they pump into the regional economy, so bargain hunters can definitely find good deals. Kristina notes that the cost of a safari tour package can vary widely, depending on the travelers’ priorities and the level of luxury they desire. For example, the cost of Kristina and Brian’s package was $3,720 per person, which included food and lodging, as well as daily jeep tours. Kristina’s friend paid $20,000 more for her posh package, where “they set up a table with white linens and chilled wine,” Kristina said, “but she didn’t see any leopards or cheetahs.”

Kristina passionately believes that “everyone who loves nature” should go on an African safari adventure at least once in their lives. “I highly recommend it. There’s no place else on earth where the animals are in charge and you are just an observer,” she says. “It’s a life-changing experience that humbles you. It’s unique. There’s nothing comparable.” Kristina made me promise that I would go someday. Now, all I’ve got to do is find a way to turn that promise into a reality. Easier said than done, but so much easier than being a cheetah!

[1] For facts about cheetahs and the survival challenges they face, see https://education.nationalgeographic.org/resource/cheetahs-brink-extinction-again/

[2] For more information about Asili Adventure Safaris, see https://www.asiliadventuresafaris.com/

[3] To learn more about Maasai Mara and Serengeti, see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maasai_Mara and https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Serengeti_National_Park

[4] Remember, Kristina &Brian went on safari in pre-COVID days, before face masks for travelers becameubiquitous.

[5] Itis customary for safari tourists to offer a minimum gratuity of $100 to theirdrivers at the conclusion of their tour. The Taos were so pleased with theirdrivers that they gave each of them $200.

[6]Thousands of wildebeests, eland, zebras, and gazelles migrate from the Serengetiinto Maasai Mara from July through October, which, are the most popular monthsfor the tourists herds too. https://www.masaimara.com/great-migration-kenya.php

[7]For detailed information about the Maasai people, see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maasai_people.

[8] Thiswebpage from the San Diego Zoo contains fascinating scientific data about lions,including their reproductive and child-rearing behavior. https://ielc.libguides.com/sdzg/factsheets/lions/reproduction

[9] Justspeculating, but I think these birds were yellow-billed storks. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yellow-billed_stork

[10]Ok, so maybe its sensationalized, but you won’t be able to stop reading thisarticle about a canoe safari guide who was unlucky enough to get attacked by ahippo. https://nypost.com/2022/03/14/a-hippo-ripped-off-my-arm-and-threw-me-around-like-a-rag-doll/


Sep212020September 21, 2020June 17, 2023by Glitterchicken

CRITTERS

Posted in Nature
Psyche by Alexandre Cabanel (1881)

It was a summer like no other in our memory. No ball games with the “CRACK!” of the bat hitting the ball and the raucous cheers of the fans. No blockbusters and salty popcorn at the empty theater. No festivals, carnivals, amusement parks, pow-wows or fairs. No drum. No bass. No melody. No dancing under the brightly colored lights. No cotton candy or cracker jack. No striking up a conversation about the weather while standing in line to buy beer: “Hot enough for you?” No brushing past one another while strolling down the boardwalk, dodging the tram car with its loud robotic voice repeating: “Watch the tram car, PLEASE watch the tram car!” No smelling suntan oil in a hug and tasting salt water in a kiss.

Here on the East Coast of the U.S., it was as if all the familiar sights, sounds, smells, and tastes of summer had suddenly abandoned us. Only the humidity remained, like a lazy dog lying all stretched out and sleepy-heavy on top of us, breathing in our faces. “Get up, you big old dog!” we said to the air, “You’re smothering us. We can’t breathe.” But the dog wouldn’t budge. Wearing masks kept us safe but exacerbated our respiratory problems. “Oh well,” we said, “we’re just going to have to learn to live without breathing.”

And then, into our oppressively humid sensory deprivation tankof a life, came the critters.

First came the giant frog we named Kermit.[1] We were gardening at night to avoid getting scorched by the sun, and he came leaping out of the darkness from 4 feet away, right into the hole we had just dug. “Hey, you gotta get out of there, dude” we said, “that’s for a tomato plant, not a frog.” He got out of that hole but then he jumped into another hole we dug on the other side of the yard. “Hey, you better be careful or you’ll get buried!” Then it dawned on us that maybe Kermit wanted to get buried; animals repeat certain behaviors for biological reasons, unlike people who are creatures of habit. Curious, we did some research and learned that, to survive winter, most frog and toad species burrow down into the soil beneath the frost line and the high glucose concentration in their vital organs acts like antifreeze while they hibernate.[2] We also noticed Kermit sitting right up next to our lantern, staring trance-like into the light, so mesmerized that we were able to get this close up.

We discovered that frogs and toads are attracted to light because light attracts yummy insects.[3] A few nights later, our lantern enticed a frog we thought was Kermit until we realized he was smaller and not nearly as fun. He just pooped on our patio and hopped away. Total bummer. The Cope’s Gray Treefrog (Hyla chrysoscelis) clinging to our sliding glass door made up for it, though. Knowing that the light coming from indoors will deliver “fast food,” it was amusing to watch this hungry guy snarf up bugs like a teenage boy devouring a pizza.

One day, while walking to the mailbox, we saw a gorgeous Tiger Swallowtail (Papilio glaucus) fluttering around in our neighbor’s butterfly bush. If you want to bring these beauties into your yard, and you don’t have enough space for a butterfly bush, try planting black-eyed Susans, purple coneflowers (Echinachea purpurea), sweet pepperbush, or phlox, all of which are “attractive nectar sources” for Tiger Swallowtails and other pollinators.[4]

In many cultures, a butterfly landing on you is a good omen. This Common Sootywing (Pholisora catullus) might have confused the floral print on this bathing suit with actual flowers but instead of flying away disappointed when there wasn’t any nectar, she floated around the pool on our raft, just chillaxing. According to dream interpretation, close contact with a butterfly means liberation and new beginnings. According to Christian symbolism, it means resurrection and immortality. And in ancient Greek mythology, it represents Psyche, the Goddess with butterfly wings who personifies the human soul. But scientists say the butterfly just wants the salt in our sweat. Like us, they can’t live on nectar alone.[5]

Another insect that enjoys engaging with humans is the katydid.  As kids, we called them leaf bugs because their camouflage mimics the bright green color and shape of leaves and the way they move mimics the rustling of leaves. Apparently, they got their name from the mating call that the males make by rubbing their wings together that supposedly sounds like “KA-TY-DID!, “ but I think it sounds more like a cross between buzzing and rattling. Because katydids are nocturnal, you’ll know if you’ve got katydid neighbors because this sound gets louder as the night wears on just like bros get louder the more drinks they consume. Every night, by 2:00 am, the katydid frat party would make an infernal racket in the woods behind our house, but we knew the cops would have been powerless to stop them, so we didn’t bother calling.

One evening after coming inside from the back yard, we noticed this guy gingerly stepping along our shirtsleeves! You can’t tell from the picture, but he was a big boy, 3 to 4 inches long. Without making a fuss, we persuaded him to walk onto this fan made from palm fronds, seeming cooperative enough. But when we tried to get him to leave the house, oh no, he wasn’t having any of that!! He jumped off the fan, and then leapt up onto the kitchen wall. Somehow we managed to get him to go back on the fan and stuck the fan out the sliding glass door. Then, he rubbed his wings together and let out a great big “KA-TY-DID!” as if he were yelling at us for kicking him out so rudely: ”But I just got here! I didn’t even get to sample the buffet!”

We later learned that there are over 200 species of katydidsand that our house guest is known as the Greater Angle-Winged Katydid or Broad-Winged Katydid (Microcentrum rhombifolium).[6] We’re thinking that katydids must be able to sense there’s food in our houses because it’s not uncommon for katydids to attempt to endear themselves to humans. And yes, people have been known to feed katydids and keep them as pets![7]

Unlike extroverted katydids, leaf-footed bugs are the wallflowersat the party. We had to get up super close and personal to take a picture of this prehistoric looking Leaf-footed bug (Family Coreidae) creeping around on our fern. Fortunately we didn’t scare him, because like skunks, these bugs can “emit a strong odor when threatened or handled.”[8]

On sunny days, we would find these adorable lizards scurrying about on the patio chasing bugs. They’re called 5-lined Skinks due to the 5 white or yellow vertical lines running from nose to tail like the lines painted on the road. Only juveniles have blue tails like this little girl who blends right into our colorful rug made of recycled plastic threads. Apparently, the male clamps his mouth around his partner’s neck before mating. Kinky skinks! [9]

The only frequent visitors who managed to escape the camera entirely were the dragonflies. The ones we saw must have been females; they didn’t have the male’s chunky white tails but they had the checkered wings denoting a Common Whitetail (Plathemis lydia). All summer long, they landed on the rocks and plants in our garden, on our sidewalk, on our flip-flops, and on various body parts. But we could never produce the camera in time. Or getting out the camera made them fly away. But that’s life, isn’t it? Our closest encounters are often the most fleeting. Although we can’t produce any proof that they happened at all, we know that they did because they open our frightened hearts, allowing hope to crawl inside and burrow down deeply enough to find the warmth to breathe and stay alive.

[1] Now we’re thinking now that, due to his bumpy skin and his love of getting into holes in the ground, Kermit may have actually been an Eastern American toad (Anaxyrus americanus). https://thefroglady.wordpress.com/2019/03/07/frogs-of-maryland/

[2] For more on how frogs and toads survive winter, see https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/how-do-frogs-survive-wint/

[3] If you want to attract frogs and toads to your garden, see https://dengarden.com/gardening/Attracting-Frogs-and-Toads-To-Your-Garden

[4] Ifyou want to attract Tiger Swallowtails, see https://butterflywebsite.com/articles/tiger-swallowtails.cfm

[5] Formusings on the meaning of when a butterfly lands on you, see https://www.thelist.com/166664/what-does-it-mean-when-a-butterfly-lands-on-you/#:~:text=%22A%20butterfly%20landing%20on%20you,be%20trusted%20with%20delicate%20things.%22

[6] Here’s a fascinating video about Katydids. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MdMMUoKRBSk.

[7] This family tells about the katydid they named Bartholomew, whom they found living in their house and decided to feed and keep as a pet because they were so enthralled with him. https://www.csmonitor.com/2000/0927/p22s1.html. WikiHow tells you how to keep a katydid as a pet. https://www.wikihow.com/Take-Care-of-a-Katydid-Insect

[8] For more details about these bashful insects, see https://www.thoughtco.com/leaf-footed-bugs-family-coreidae-1968621

[9] Formore info on the kinky skink, see https://www.chesapeakebay.net/discover/field-guide/entry/five_lined_skink


Jan262020January 26, 2020June 19, 2023by Glitterchicken

THE BRUCE

Posted in Food & Drink, Nature, Sports & Recreation, Travel

Like most kids, I loved games of make-believe. One of my favorites was playing spy. Whether it was lying prostrate in the back of my parents’ station wagon imagining myself being chased by Russians (seatbelts were optional then), jotting down quirky observations ofpeople in a little green notebook, hiding at the top of the stairs to eavesdrop on the grown-ups, or donning my mom’s dresses and heels to form a disguise, I was always pretending. Commonplace events took a sinister turn. No one was who they seemed, and every thing was a mystery I was determined to solve. In other words, I wanted to be Nancy Drew!

For those of you who their cut their teeth on those books, you’ll remember the girl detective was adept at managing watercraft and many of the stories took place near lakes or involved water sports. Nancy Drew would have been right at home in a place I visited last June - the Bruce Peninsula.[1]

In every good mystery story the setting, whether it be exotic or mundane, is as important as the protagonists. So let’s start with the basics of the Bruce Peninsula - location. “The Bruce,” as it’s known in local vernacular, juts out like an index finger into the crystal cool waters of Lake Huron, approximately 250 km northwest of Toronto. It’s part of Bruce County, Ontario and hosts two national parks; Bruce Peninsula NP and Fathom Five National Marine Park. Some of what makes the area geologically unique is that is contains part of the Niagara Escarpment[2] on the east side along the Georgian Bay. This contributes to an unusual phenomenon botanists find interesting in that the hardiness zones on the peninsula change from east to west rather than north to south as in most places, with the cooler side being on the east as elevations rise. (More about plants later).

The Bruce is an important part of the migratory bird flyway and a unique natural area, being home to the largest remaining untouched forest in Southern Ontario, otherwise known as a “mega-woodland” where you can find some of the oldest trees in North America and many other plant and animal species like black bear and Eastern Massasauga rattlesnake. While there may be plenty of wild creatures, there isn’t much on the Bruce in terms of creature comforts. That’s part of its allure, but it also means you need to go prepared. (Nancy was always infinitely prepared, you’ll recall.)

As you head north from Toronto, you’ll find quaint little towns like Orangeville and Owen Sound where the activity is centered along main streets flanked by funky shops and restaurants. Eventually this gives way to the more sparsely populated Highway 6, an evergreen-lined, two-lane road which transects The Bruce vertically from northto south. Along it, you’ll find a few hardware stores, the ubiquitous Tim Horton’s, a grocery store, and a few mom-and-pop fish ‘n chips stands, where you can gear up and have a snack.

The Bruce is a goldmine of outdoor activities. In fact, if you’re not partial to fishing, hiking, camping, kayaking, or boating, there’s little else to attract you – unless you consider pure, unadulterated nature insignificant. I wasn’t there to do any of those things, though. I was part of a convocation known as the Native Orchid Conference,[3] and the Bruce Peninsula (specifically, the town of Tobermory) was the locale for the organization’s annual symposium. In case you were wondering … the Native Orchid Conference or NOC is a non-profit group focused on the study and conservation of native, mainly terrestrial orchids of North America. Consisting of members from around the globe, the organization’s primary activity is hosting a yearly conference, where participants listen to scientific lectures before heading off into the bush to find and photograph flowers.

Tobermory is a like a shining pot of gold waiting for you at the end of Route 6. It sits at the northernmost point of the peninsula where two harbors, Big Tub and Little Tub, carve themselves into the landscape. Most of the activity centers on Little Tub Harbor and its marina. There you’ll find The Tobermory Princess, a modest, family-run hotel with restaurant. You’ll also find eclectic boutiques focused on all things nautical and outdoorsy, quaint coffee shops, and restaurants like the Tobermory Brewing Company and Grill, which serves up hefty burgers, a healthy pumpkin and sunflower seed hummus and some tasty brews. But you can’t leave the Bruce without having at least one fish n’ chips meal complete with vinegar in a spray bottle! Lee’s was touted as the place to get it, but unfortunately our limited schedule precluded us from having the full Tobermory experience. A good excuse to go back!

At the heart of Tobermory is narrow Little Tub Harbor. Here is where you can park your boat or charter one for a snorkel tour or a dive. Tobermory happens to be the “freshwater scuba diving capital” of the world with 24 shipwrecks and a unique underwater topography that divers find appealing. From Little Tub Harbor one can also get on board the MS Chi-Cheemaun (Ojibwe for “Big Canoe”), a ferry providing daily passenger/vehicle service between Tobermory and the town of South Baymouth on Manatoulin Island, the world’s largest freshwater island.  But our group of conference members were on a special mission, so we opted for the jet boat via Blue Heron Cruises[4] to take us to Flowerpot Island. Some housekeeping here: Joining the cruise takes a bit of maneuvering. The ticket office is in one location, car parking in another. A short but steep walk through town takes you to where your tickets are validated before gathering at the embarkation point.

This is where the plot, and pardon the pun, the fog thickens. Although the Great Lakes have an overall moderating effect on climate, if you’ve spent any time there, you know how mercurial the weather can be, particularly in summer. The morning we set out for Flowerpot Island was rainy and cool. As we boarded, our skipper passed out blue plastic ponchos – more to keep our bums from getting damp than to mitigate the rain and mist. We settled into our seats and off we went on the Flowerpot Express!

The unique rock formations that lend the island its name are formally known as sea stacks.[5] These formed thousands of years ago when the last glaciers retreated. Flower Pot Island is composed of dolomite, which was strong enough to survive the grinding of the glaciers. After the last ice age, when the glaciers retreated, surface water filtered through cracks in the earth and eroded “softer” rock behind the formations. Wind, rain, and wave action did the rest, resulting in the towers of rock we see today.

Remember, the objective of our visit was to observe the plethora of orchid species which occur naturally and in abundance on The Bruce. Yellow Lady’s Slippers, elusive Coral Roots, and ethereal Listera cordata with their millimeter-sized blossoms were our targets. But the gems of the Bruce are Calypso bulbosa or the Fairy Slipper orchid. Calypso are diminutive, rare, and quite beautiful, which puts them at the top of most orchid hunters’ checklists.

As in any good novel, there are plot twists to follow and problems to overcome. It was cool and wet like everywhere else in the eastern half of North America last year. Want to see a grown man cry? Tell him the bloom time of the orchids is a week or two behind schedule because of below normal temperatures. But don’t fear – orchid hunters are perennial optimists. So what if the plants aren’t in bloom? We can still look at leaves and inflorescences in spike. So what if it’s raining and the ground is saturated? We can still writhe on our bellies to find just the right angle to point our macro lenses. However, Calypso are an entirely different animal. They’re the Holy Grail, and some people will stop at nothing to find them.

With wooded trails, hidden coves, mist, and place names like Devil’s Monument, Old Woman’s River, Singing Sands, Cave Point, and Spirit Rock, The Bruce is an ideal place for nature lovers who like a little intrigue mixed in with their botanizing. And yes, orchid hunters are not immune to some minor subterfuge in order to have the plants all to themselves. Sleuths refer to them as “red herrings,” but in the orchid world it’s known as the vague direction, the slip, or failure to divulge. Some of this has merit. Unscrupulous people with heavy feet can cause damage – or even worse, dig up plants. When a few people in our group got wind of the exact location of a few Calypso, they sent the majority of us off on a wildgoose chase culminating in a dead-end trail. Said scofflaws surreptitiously went off trail, found the plants, and returned gleefully boasting to the rest of us about their “good luck.” Criminal!

Orchid hunting is a lot like spy work. There are clues given by fellow explorers. There are hazards – black flies, mosquitoes, bogs of uncertain depth, ticks, chiggers – all must be overcome to reach your goal. You sometimes have to “trespass.” You frequently rely on cryptic messages to get to the final prize. You get help on where to look fromclues like companion plants – in this case, false Solomon’s seal, trillium, and Indian cucumber root. But in the end, just as Nancy always solves the case and the bad guys get exposed and all is well with the world, the same was true for us. We found the orchids, took our photos, and reveled in nature’s mysteries and the beauty of the Bruce Peninsula. Although I’m pretty sure Nancy Drew would have gotten those fish n’ chips!

Travel Notes:

Bruce Peninsula essentials: (1) Apassport (if you’re not Canadian); (2) Rain gear; (3) Insect repellent; (4) Hiking shoes; (5) Dress in layers; (6) Camera

Other Notes:

*If you’re really adventurous you can volunteer to man oneof the Flowerpot Island Lighthouse. It’s a 3 week gig. Caretaker duties include performing light maintenance and greeting visitors. 

*Parking: The biggest mystery on The Bruce is the obsessionwith parking. In Tobermory and surrounds you’ll find parking kiosks throughout the park, even along wooded roads.

[1] The Bruce Peninsula wasnamed for James Bruce, 8th Earl of Elgin and Governor General of Canada from 1847-1854. One of his less savory claims to fame is the burning of the Old Summer Palace in Beijing during the Second Opium War while holding the position of High Commissioner and Plenipotentiary of China and the Far East.

[2] The Niagara Escarpment is essentially a steep slope running in an east/west direction from New York and Ontario through Michigan and Wisconsin into Illinois. The area holds a UNESCO World Biosphere Reserve designation as it has some of the oldest forest ecosystem in North America. As its name implies, the escarpment is best known as the cliff over which Niagara Falls descends.

[3]Native Orchid Conference: https://www.nativeorchidconference.info/

[4] Blue Heron Cruises: https://www.cruisetobermory.com/

[5] Point of clarification. SeaStacks can be found on the Bruce, not Sleestaks, which are only known to exist on The Land of the Lost. See https://landofthelost.fandom.com/wiki/Sleestak


Apr302019April 30, 2019June 19, 2023by Glitterchicken

Longwood Gardens

Posted in Architecture, Nature

My great-grandfather wore a fedora and a pinstripe suit. My great-grandmother wore a floral print dress, a fur stole, and a black hat decorated with white loops of ribbon that looked like macaroni. They stood in front of a circular fountain bordered by fields of tulips. Behind them were brick walls, more fountains, and a row of trees. “Our relatives back in Italy probably thought this is where we lived,” my Aunt Mary chuckled as she handed me the photo, which was obviously not taken in my great- grandparents’ tiny backyard. “What is this place?” I asked. “Longwood Gardens,” she told me, “down near Delaware. It was owned by the DuPonts, a really rich family from Wilmington. It’s open to the public now. Mom & Pop used to take us there every Easter.” I scrutinized the photo, absorbing every detail before announcing: “I’m gonna go there someday.”

My fascination with Longwood Gardens started with that old family photo when I was just a little girl and it hasn’t ended yet. I’ve visited Longwood Gardens countless times with family and friends or alone with sketchpad in hand. And not unlike a love affair, every time I enter that familiar terrain, I exit with a new discovery.

Turns out good old Aunt Mary was right. Longwood Gardens started out as the weekend residence of the DuPont family from 1906 until 1954. Pierre S. DuPont originally bought what used to the be the Peirce family homestead in order to save the adjacent old-growth forest (known as Peirce’s Park) from being chopped down by lumberjacks. But it didn’t take long for P.S. DuPont to recognize the property’s potential, and it became his lifelong labor of love. By 1914, he had laid out the 600-foot-long Flower Garden Walk, begun hosting his famous June garden parties, and installed the Italian-inspired Open Air Theatre, thereby starting Longwood’s tradition of live music and dance performance that continue to this day. P.S. DuPont fed his passion for horticulture by first expanding the courtyard of his home (the Peirce-DuPont House), into a conservatory[1], and eventually building the elegant Conservatory that opened in 1921 and still functions as the crown jewel of the estate. Apparently, it was P.S. DuPont’s childhood dream to build a greenhouse that is open to the public.[2]  Not only has his dream been realized on a grand scale, but the Longwood Gardens of today is so much more than a big greenhouse filled with exotic plants. Renowned for its excellence in horticultural research and development, Longwood hybrids such as the Victoria water-platter[3] are sought after by collectors worldwide.  Longwood Gardens is also an ecosystem consisting of a vast arboretum, two lakes, a waterfall, and a meadow, all of which provides valuable habitat for many native species and serves as a stage for wildlife conservation and land stewardship efforts, often in conjunction with local universities. The bluebird houses in the meadow are a prime example.[4] Furthermore, Longwood Gardens is an educational institution in its own right, offering courses for professional horticulturalists, programs for K-12 students or college interns, and continuing education classes for professionals and hobbyists in a wide variety of fields, such as floral design, horticulture & gardening, landscape design, and creative arts.[5]

But most visitors are totally unaware of everything going on behind the scenes at Longwood Gardens. They’re coming to see the show. And what a phenomenal show it is!

It’s easy to understand why my great-grandparents ritually took the family to Longwood Gardens at Easter time because this is when the verdant landscape of Southeastern Pennsylvania really springs to life. If you visit Longwood during the Spring Bloomsseason that lasts from the last week of March through the first week of May, it’s like a Hollywood red carpet parade of over 245,000 bulbs! Early in the season, you’ll be greeted by glory-of-the-snow, winter-aconite, and crocus. . . the golden narcissus is next to arrive. . . and finally (trumpet fanfare) . . . the tulips . . . row after row of candy-colored tulips cover the Idea Garden grounds, in adjacent squares evocative of a Mondrian painting. Their glorious cups bobble slightly when their stems wave in the wind, creating a breathtaking ripple effect. When standing amidst their splendor, you can totally get whytulip mania wreaked so much havoc on the Dutch economy in the mid-1600s.[6]

The abundance of graceful flowering trees such as Japanese Cherry (early in the season) and Dogwood (in the middle of the season) is another reason why so many visitors flock to Longwood Gardens for Spring Blooms, but I wouldn't want you to think Spring is the only time to go! Like Vivaldi’s famous concerti, all four seasons at Longwood Gardens offer something spectacular.

The Summer months at Longwood are known as the Festival of Fountains. Inspired by his trips to Italy, Mr. DuPont had several elaborate fountain gardens constructed on the grounds, all of which have been lovingly maintained in accordance with his vision. The star attraction is the recently renovated Main Fountain Garden.[7] Every day, at multiple scheduled times, 175-foot tall plumes and 1,719 swirling jets of water dance to the rhythm of the music. In the evening (Thursday through Saturday), you’ll be treated to a gorgeous multi-colored illuminated performance. As if that weren’t enough, staggered throughout the season, there are 6 shows combining the dancing musical fountain display with fireworks![8]

Now, I’ll clue you in to the less obvious but no less beautiful fountains you should check out if you visit during the Festival of Fountains. The Italian Water Garden, built in 1927, with its terraced slopes and sparkling water reminiscent of diamonds, is one of the most romantic spots on the property.[9] The bench under the shade of the tree is the perfect spot for kissing. (Or meditating upon the meaning of life. Or applying mosquito repellent. Whatever strikes your fancy). If you’re happily hiking through Peirce’s Park, head Eastward down the path to the Sylvan Fountain, an idyllic woodland oasis tucked away in a grove of bottlebrush buckeye (Aesculus parviflora). If you’re puttering around in the Conservatory, take a moment to play in the Children’s Garden fountains, where even grown-ups are allowed to splash around and get wet.  Go ahead and stick your head under the rain curtain; it's so refreshing!

The highlight of Autumn’s Colorsat Longwood Gardens is the Chrysanthemum Festival, the largest display of exhibition chrysanthemums in the U.S. In the Conservatory, you’ll be amazed at the sight of over 17,000 chrysanthemums that Longwood’s expert horticulturists have painstakingly nurtured and trained into all kinds of crazy shapes such as spirals, shields, columns, orbs, and pagodas. Taking center stage is thejaw-dropping “Thousand Bloom Chrysanthemum,” a horticultural marvel measuring nearly 12 feet wide and taking 2 years to grow, created by cultivating a singlechrysanthemum plant to produce 1,000 or more uniform evenly spaced blooms according to an ancient Japanese method known as Ozukuri.

There are precious few growers in the world skilled at the technique of training a Thousand Bloom mum, whereby a team of trainers must meticulously pinch and tie the chrysanthemum plant to a wire frame designed by an architect that can be adjusted as the plant grows. Then, they must arrange the blooms into a dome shape and train the plant to achieve as many blooms as humanly possible. Longwood’s team is led by Yoko Arakawa, who travels frequently to Japan to train with master chrysanthemum growers.[10]

In homage to Japanese culture and aesthetics, every Autumn, the entranceways and hallways of the Conservatory are festooned with brightly-colored paper lanterns and this year in the Ballroom (on October 26th& 27th) there will be special displays and demonstrations of Ikebana and Bonsai, which are not just ancient Japanese art forms but also Zen Buddhist spiritual practices.[11]

While the Chrysanthemum Festival is nothing short of a miracle that looks like something only the Oompa-Loompas could have created, you cannot fully appreciate Autumn’s Colors without putting on your down vest and stepping outside to view nature’s great masterpieces: the reflections of the towering trees in the 2 spring-fed lakes that once served as jumping-off points for Pierre S. DuPont’s boating parties and the wide expanse of the grassy meadow ringed in fiery red, orange, and goldforest, the perfect spot for plein airpainting or sketching.

Unless you’re a local who’s grown accustomed to maddening traffic congestion due to the throngs of visitors coming to and from “A Longwood Christmas,” you might be surprised to learn that Winter is by far the most popular season to visit Longwood Gardens. After strolling the grounds, where over 500,000 twinkling lights magically transform the grounds into a Winter Wonderland, you can warm up with a cup of hot cocoa at the terrace café while listening to the joyful sounds of carolers at the entrance. You’ll find the Conservatory packed from floor to ceiling with evergreen trees and wreaths creatively decorated in accordance with a single theme, such as birds, ice, or France, just to name a few. After playing the guess-the-theme game, you can sing along to the sounds of the season at a Longwood Organ holiday concert.[12]

While it’s easy to see how A Longwood Christmas has become a beloved tradition for many regional families and a “must do” on the bucket lists of visitors from around the globe, the Orchid Extravaganza in late Winter (Jan. through March) attracts serious horticulturalists, photographers,and plant lovers alike. Admittedly, we have made it our tradition to visit Longwood every year during the Orchid Extravaganza when outdoor temperatures are still too cold for trees to bud and bulbs to emerge from the earth, but the heated 4-acre Conservatory is teeming with life and bursting with color. It looks like the Oompa-Loompas were hard at work again!

Nearly 5,000 blooming orchids of many varieties (including Phalaenopsis, Cymbidium, Cattleya, Dendrobium, and Paphiopedilum) are amassed into giant hanging orbs, massive panels, and cascading curtains. Orchids drip down from ceilings, cover walls, encircle benches, and spring forth from containers, creating that feeling that you are enveloped by them. Longwood’s talented team of growers intersperses other stunning flowering plant species into the display to add richness and depth; enormous lilies and vibrant anemones are staff favorites (and ours). If you visit in early March, don’t miss the rare Himalayan blue poppies (Meconopsis ‘Lingholm’) that Longwood’s gardeners force to bloom using an artful technique. But beware these flowers are so alluring that they act as a magnet for humans! Don’t be surprised if you find yourself fixated to the point where you have trouble pulling yourself away. You won’t be the first person whose phone runs out of juice because you can’t stop taking pictures of the blue poppies, trust me; it happened to me and my friend.

Now, for some visiting tips geared to specific audiences. First, for children of all ages and the kids in all of us, don’t miss the Children’s Garden in the Conservatory; it’s whimsical animal sculptures and delightful water features provide an oasis of enchantment that’s open year-round. You’ll also want to check out the Garden Railway (open during Autumn’s Colors and A Longwood Christmas). Another fun game to play is to ask for a Gardens Map when you get your ticket for admission, and then once you’re inside, see if you can find the 3 treehouses on the grounds (1 of them is easy to find, but the other 2 are hidden in the woods). The topiary garden is fun too; the bushes are trimmed into cool animal shapes, like Alice in Wonderland.

And now, for the adults. You can’t find a more picturesque and tranquil setting to soak up a live music or dance performance. While some concerts (such as the Longwood organ) can take place during the Fall and Winter months, most of the action happens during the Summer Performance Series, where rising stars or established artists take the stage in the Open Air Theatre. This year’s lineup features Leslie Odom, Jr. of Hamilton fame, Roseanne Cash, and BalletX.  The annualWine & Jazz Festival, a 2-day event that occurs the 1st weekend in June, is also immensely popular. Tickets for these summertime events sell out super quick, so be sure to make your reservations well in advance.

For all the craft beer aficionados, Longwood boasts a beer garden that will make you wriggle in your lederhosen. If you’re feeling traditional, you can sip on a signature draft brew designed especially for Longwood by local favorite Victory Brewing Co. while munching on a Bavarian soft pretzel, but if you’re in need of something meatier, you can choose from a selection of pizzas, burgers, sandwiches, and bratwurst (of course). All the while, you can stargaze while listening to excellent live music ranging from roots rock to gypsy jazz to progressive bluegrass to Caribbean steel drums. And if you’re not into the whole beer thing, you can buy French wine for $9 a glass. What’s not to like? Note that the beer garden is only open, weather permitting, on Thursday through Saturday nights from 5:00 to 9:00 pm (May 9th – Aug. 31st) and from 4:00 pm to 8:00 pm (Sept. 5th – Oct. 26th).

Last but definitely not least, for those explorers among you (like me) who enjoy wandering far from the madding crowds, ask for a Gardens Map when you purchase your admissions ticket, and go to the Chimes Tower, the Grotto, and the “big loop” trail bordering the outer edges of the Meadow Garden. In these serene, seemingly private spaces, you can pause for a moment of gratitude or prayer, or just simply reflect on the boundless beauty of nature.

[1] All you history buffs, be sure to visit the Peirce-DuPont house, which has been converted into a charming museum featuring a film and walk-through exhibits on the life of Pierre S. DuPont and the creation of Longwood Gardens. The original courtyard conservatory, which is home to some fabulous old plants and fat lazy cats, has been lovingly preserved and maintained.  https://longwoodgardens.org/gardens/peirce-du-pont-house

[2]For more information on the grand Conservatory, see https://longwoodgardens.org/history/1916-1926

[3]For a behind-the-scenes look, including videos, of the debut of the Victoria ‘Longwood hybrid’ water-platter at the Philadelphia Flower Show in 2010, see https://longwoodgardens.org/blog/2010/02/03/longwood-water-platter-ready-for-flower-show-debut

[4]For more about Longwood’s bluebird program, seehttps://plantexplorer.longwoodgardens.org/weboi/oecgi2.exe/INET_ECM_DispTour?TOURCODE=BLUEBIRD

[5]For more on the plethora of Longwood’s educational offerings https://longwoodgardens.org/education

[6]The Dutch Tulip Market Bubble, aka “tulip mania,” during the Dutch Golden Age, was one of the most famous market booms and busts of all time. At the height of the craze, the rarest tulip bulbs traded for as much as 6 times the average person’s annual salary. For more details,see https://www.investopedia.com/terms/d/dutch_tulip_bulb_market_bubble.asp

[7] Tolearn more about the $90 million Main Fountain Garden renovation project, visit the Historic Pump Room & Gallery at Longwood Gardens or see https://www.pennlive.com/gardening/2017/03/fire_on_water_longwood_gardens.html

[8] Bearin mind that the daytime and evening fountain displays are included in the cost of Garden Admission, but the Fireworks & Fountains shows require an extraticket. Due to their popularity, advanced reservations are highly recommended. Don’t forget to bring your own chairs and/or blankets and start packing up your stuff before the finale or it could be Christmas by the time you leave theparking lot. If crowds and kids aren’t your thing, just forget about it and watch the video; you can thank us later.

[9] The layout of the Italian Water Garden is remarkably similar to the one the DuPonts saw at the Villa Gamberaia near Florence. Pierre S. DuPont planned every detail of its design from the sculptures to the hydraulic calculations.

[10]For more about the Chrysanthemum Festival, including a time-lapse video of the creation of the Thousand Bloom mum, seehttps://longwoodgardens.org/events-and-performances/events/chrysanthemum-festival.

[11]For the NYT perspective on The Rise of Modern Ikebana, see  https://www.nytimes.com/2017/11/06/t-magazine/ikebana-japanese-flower-art.htmland for an interesting take on why people treat their Bonsai trees like children, see https://qz.com/quartzy/1550988/theres-a-good-reason-bonsai-growers-think-of-trees-as-their-children/

[12] Composed of 10,010 pipes divided into 146 ranks, The Longwood Organ is the largest Aeolian organ ever constructed in a residential setting. Pierre S. du Pont had it custom-designed in 1930, and it remains in Longwood’s Conservatory, where each year the best and brightest young organists compete for prizes before a panel of esteemed judges in an International Organ Competition. The top prizewinner takes home the Pierre S. duPont First Prize of $40,000, the biggest cash prize of any organ competition in the world. For information about the 2019 competitors, see https://longwoodgardens.org/international-organ-competition/2019-competition/competitors


Oct302018October 30, 2018November 15, 2018by Glitterchicken

Vermont’s Best Kept Secret

Posted in Art & Literature, History, Nature

We knew that Robert Frost had lived somewhere in these hills, but where? As we drove westward along Vermont Route 125, my mother and my brother simultaneously commented on how perfectly situated the Bread Loaf Campus of Middlebury College was, with its sturdy green-roofed yellow wooden buildings nestled at the foot of Bread Loaf Mountain. “We have to be getting close now,” I said as we drove deeper into the Green Mountain National Forest toward the hamlet[1] of Ripton. I knew that Robert Frost had been closely affiliated with the Bread Loaf School of English, where he had taught almost every summer and autumn since the 1920s and had been one of the co-founders of the Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference.[2]

About a mile down the road on our right, we pulled over at the Robert Frost Wayside. I jumped out of the car like a detective searching for clues and walked over to a sign with a large glass case enclosing laminated pages upon which thousands of words were printed. There were no touch screens in sight. Passers-by glanced up at the sign but quickly lowered their eyes and departed intimidated, but not I. Oh no, I got out my reading glasses, determined to figure out where Robert Frost had lived once and for all!

When I noticed my mother standing next to me, I excitedly shared with her all I had learned from the imposing sign. Back in the prehistoric days, Vermont had been covered with ice and the mountain range was created by glaciers. Turns out Mom had been wearing her reading glasses too; she started telling me about guys like Nathaniel Chipman and Joseph Battell who were credited with establishing the State of Vermont, Middlebury College, and nearby towns.[3] Great, so we were both tied for the coveted title of “Little Miss Smarty-Pants,” but what did any of this stuff have to do with Robert Frost?

Then I noticed something on the sign saying that the grove of pine trees we were standing under had been planted as a tribute to Robert Frost so that families could enjoy picnicking in the shade just minutes away from the rustic cabin where the great poet had once lived. “So the cabin must be somewhere behind this grove of pines,” I said, “but where?” The sign did not tell you how to get there.

Vermont is famous for its law prohibiting billboards since 1968[4], but not as well documented is the near absence of signs and markers pointing out historical sites or places of interest to visitors. I was wondering if this absence was purposeful. Could it be that Vermonters don’t tell you about things unless you really care to know them?

I pondered this question while wandering back towards the car to get my camera and join my brother who was communing with nature across the road. As I popped open the trunk, a couple of old-timers in a car bearing a Vermont license plate pulled up alongside me. I decided to try an experiment with mental telepathy.  I looked them in the eye, flashed them my best toothy grin and gave them a good old “Hey, how’s it going?” all the while thinking of ideas from the Constitution like life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness in the hopes that they would know what I was looking for.[5]

What happened next gave me goosebumps. The man told me (in an incredible New England accent) that if we wanted to see the log cabin where Robert Frost lived and composed most of his poetry for the last 25 years of his life, just drive out of the parking lot and head eastward (the same direction from whence we came) but don’t go too far;  just a few yards away, we’ll come to an unmarked road where we’re supposed to turn left, then drive a ½ mile up the hill and we’ll come to the Homer Noble farmhouse. His wife told me (in the same incredible accent, of course) that’s where we should park the car and walk about 100 yards farther uphill to the cabin, where we could take pictures of the exterior but we weren’t allowed inside for historic property preservation reasons.[6]

After following our local tour guides’ step-by-step directions, we arrived at the white wooden structure identified by a small blue plaque as the Homer Noble Farm, which is now owned and maintained by Middlebury College as a memorial to Robert Frost[7], who used the property as his “summer home” from 1939 to 1963. Remarkably, the plaque didn’t say a word about the modest log cabin up the hill where Frost really lived.

New York Times writer Robert D. Kaplan, described the approach to the cabin with perfectionistic accuracy: ”To see the cabin itself, walk about a hundred yards beyond the farmhouse up a wide, grassy lane bordered by birch and fir trees until you see an opening on your left that leads into a mountain dell where the cabin is situated.”[8] While Kaplan’s article beautifully captures the subtle splendor of Ripton’s physical geography known as “Robert Frost Country,” what’s missing from his narrative is any attempt to describe  Frost’s internal landscape. Maybe this was a purposeful omission - not unlike Vermont’s historical markers - that forces you to solve the riddle of the poet’s soul yourself?

What on God’s green earth would have prompted Frost to quit his full-time position as a Professor of English at Amherst College in 1938, purchase this 150-acre parcel of farmland, and return to this teeny tiny log cabin every year?  Sure, it was close to the Bread Loaf Campus and it had a lovely view of Mount Moosamaloo[9] but there had to be more to the story. . . something profoundly emotional.

The key to this mystery lies in the unfortunate truth that great changes in a person’s life are often prompted by great tragedy. In March 1938, Frost’s wife Elinor died after suffering a heart attack while recovering from breast cancer surgery. Subsequently, the poet’s life began to disintegrate. Middlebury students and faculty whispered about Frost “suffering a nervous breakdown” and witnessed him exhibiting uncharacteristically erratic behavior – such as the notorious incident where Frost interrupted Archibald McLeish’s poetry reading.[10]

It’s not surprising that Frost would have come unglued when you consider the circumstances. Back in the day, it was customary for wives to take on the role of secretary to their husbands, and if the husband was a big shot, the wife’s job was bigger too, not unlike the role of the executive assistant in today’s corporations. Although Frost deliberately maintained the lifestyle of the humble New England farmer, there’s no denying that he was quite the big shot. With 3 Pulitzer prizes under his belt as well as a plethora of other awards and honorary degrees[11], Frost received a never-ending stream of offers to teach at colleges and universities, invitations to publicly recite his poetry, and buckets of fan mail. Who was going to take care of all these mundane tasks now that Elinor was gone?

Besides the ruination of the practical aspects of his life, Elinor’s loss devastated Robert Frost on a deeply personal level. She started out as his high school sweetheart with an intellectual capacity arguably equivalent to his own; they were co-valedictorians when they graduated from Lawrence High School in 1892. After they were married in 1895, Elinor became more than just a spouse; she was Robert Frost’s best friend and served as the inspiration for most of his poetry. As a couple, they had 5 children together and shared a lot of memories, including an unsuccessful stint at farming in New Hampshire and living in England for several years before the outbreak of WWI, where they were introduced to contemporary British poets who greatly influenced Frost’s work.[12]

Knowing this back story, it’s understandable that keeping up a full-time job may have become unbearable for Frost while he was mourning Elinor’s death, and he might have made the prudent decision to resign from Amherst rather than risk embarrassing himself. But without a wife and a job to give him a reason to get up in the morning, why didn’t Robert Frost’s life continue to deteriorate in 1938? Instead of dying in the depths of despair, he ascended to further greatness by winning yet another (his 4th) Pulitzer Prize for poetry in 1943 and still kicking 20 years later, Frost was invited to recite a poem at President John F. Kennedy’s inauguration in 1963.[13] Was Frost superhuman? Quite the contrary, he was all too human. It took a woman to stitch the pieces of his life back together and give him the impetus to keep on writing prize-winning poems.

Kay Morrison was the wife of Ted Morrison, a poet and Harvard professor who had been the Director of the Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference since 1932. Having first met Robert Frost back in 1918 when she was a student at Bryn Mawr College, Kay decided to pay a personal visit to Frost in July of 1938 when she heard that he was having a tough time coping with the loss of his wife. Kay’s goal was to persuade Frost to continue his participation in the writers’ conference, thinking that the intellectual stimulation might set him back on track. Kay’s powers of persuasion must not have been too shabby because Frost ended up smitten with her and proposed marriage, which she refused because she was already married and didn’t want to leave her husband.  Kay did accept Frost’s offer to serve as his personal assistant, however, and served as the poet’s “manager, mistress, and muse” for the next 25 years of his life according to Frost’s biographer Jeffrey Meyers.[14]

Whether or not Frost and Morrison were lovers is still a matter of considerable debate, but they undoubtedly had a tight bond. Frost decided to purchase the Homer Noble Farm rented the farmhouse out to the Morrisons so that he could keep Kay close by. Although Frost slept in the log cabin and did all of his writing there, Kay ensured that he did not live a reclusive life. Not only did Frost take all of his meals with the Morrisons so that he would never have to dine alone, but Kay encouraged students from the Bread Loaf School of English to visit him. Peter Stanlis wrote nostalgically about the first time he and his classmates visited Frost at his cabin in the summer of 1939. They walked all the way to Ripton “loaded down with a half dozen bottles of ginger ale, a large bag of ice, and packages of ginger snaps.” Frost greeted the students warmly and invited them into the cabin where they sat in a semi-circle around the poet and discussed the distinction between “intellectual” and “rationalist” and other philosophical questions.[15] Kay must have had the wisdom to understand that personal interactions like these worked as an antidote to the isolation Frost was feeling, thereby staving off the depression he may have experienced had he been left to his own devices. And Frost must have appreciated Kay’s efforts because he dedicated A Witness Tree to her.

As I surveyed the landscape surrounding Frost’s cabin, I could see how this would be an ideal place to work through the stages of grief and eventually tap into the power within to create fresh new poetry like a bear emerging from its den after a long winter.

There was just enough peace and tranquility to provide solace and just enough activity going on in the natural world to provide subject matter for contemplation. It was hard not to feel a dreamy sense of lightness. While walking downhill towards the farmhouse, I watched my brother compose a photograph with a leaf that had fallen from a nearby maple tree and a baby pumpkin that someone had kindly left on a tree stump to serve as artistic inspiration, no doubt. I watched my mother wave a milkweed plant she had found growing in the meadow; she laughed like a little girl as the silky white seed strands burst out of the pods and drifted away in the wind. Suddenly my brother was Man Ray and my mother was Laura Ingalls Wilder. How did that transformation happen? I felt overwhelmingly grateful that those old-timers had read my mind and told us how to get to this magical place.

As we were getting into the car, a couple who looked like they had just stepped out of a Norman Rockwell painting informed us that if we were to walk about 100 feet up the hill behind the farmhouse, we would find the log cabin where Robert Frost had lived and wrote poetry. “It’s not on any of the signs,” they said, “because we only want people who are really interested to know about it.[16]” We looked at each other and smiled, feeling privileged to have been let in on Vermont’s best kept secret.

[1] In local terminology, Ripton is considered a “hamlet,” not a village. This article about neighbors concerned about people shooting guns in the National Forest is a case in point. https://www.sevendaysvt.com/vermont/neighbors-are-fired-up-about-target-shooting-on-national-forest-land/Content?oid=8501904. I’m not even going to try to explain the difference between a hamlet and a village. Ask me about the fine distinction between a shopping center, a shopping mall, and a strip mall though, and I could give you a Bryn Mawr dissertation.

[2] Established in 1926, the Middlebury Bread Loaf Writer’s Conference is considered “the oldest and most prestigious writers’ conference in the country” according to The New Yorker. For more information about what happens there, see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bread_Loaf_Writers%27_Conference and http://www.middlebury.edu/bread-loaf-conferences/bl_writers

[3] See https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nathaniel_Chipman and https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joseph_Battell

[4] For more on the VT anti-billboard law, see Nathaniel Gibson’s  article in the Rutland Herald at http://www.nathanielrgibson.com/yes-we-have-no-billboards-rutland-herald-article/2012/03/13/

[5] I’ll bet you’re wondering why I didn’t just come out and ask them where the hell the Robert Frost cabin was like a normal person instead of trying out this wacky experiment. I’ve asked myself this question many times and I still can’t come up with a legitimate answer. All I know is that the wacky experiment worked and I ended up with a much more interesting story to share with you just by being my decidedly abnormal self.

[6] An alternative to driving that may be preferable is to walk from the Wayside parking lot up to the cabin and back. I suspect the reason why this local couple suggested that we drive has to do with their expertise at mental telepathy. My mother is a senior citizen who has trouble walking any kind of distance, especially uphill, a fact that would have been obvious to them.

[7] In 2008, Middlebury College established a Robert Frost Cabin Farm Preservation Fund and a Writer-in-Residence position, which involves a faculty member actually living in the farmhouse. For more details, see http://www.middlebury.edu/newsroom/archive/2008/node/111607

[8] From Robert Frost’s Vermont by Robert D. Kaplan, The New York Times (Sept. 1, 1991) at https://www.nytimes.com/1991/09/01/travel/robert-frost-s-vermont.html

[9] For more about Frost’s connection to Ripton, see Allison Flint’s charming article at http://www.onenewengland.com/article.php?id=396

[10] Stanlis, Peter J., Conversations with Robert Frost: The Bread Loaf Period (2009).

[11] Frost won the Pulitzer in 1924 for New Hampshire, in 1931 for Collected Poems, and in 1937 for A Further Range. He went on to win the Pulitzer a 4th time in 1943 for A Witness Tree. Throughout his lifetime, Frost received more than 40 honorary degrees. https://www.biography.com/people/robert-frost-20796091

[12] For more about Robert and Elinor’s life together and the British poets that influenced Frost’s work, see    https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poet/robert-frost

[13] JFK had this to say about Frost: “He has bequeathed his nation a body of imperishable verse from which Americans will forever gain joy and understanding.” https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poet/robert-frost

[14] Meyers, Jeffrey. Robert Frost: A Biography. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1996.

[15] Stanlis, Peter J., Conversations with Robert Frost: The Bread Loaf Period (2009). This insightful volume summarizes discussions between Stanlis and Frost that took place between 6 consecutive summers (1939-1944) when Stanlis was a student at Bread Loaf Graduate School of English, plus additional exchanges at Bread Loaf in 1961-1962.

[16] Robert Kaplan attests to the validity of our observation that Vermonters are intentionally secretive about the cabin’s location. When he asked the manager of the Bread Loaf Inn why the cabin and the road leading there were unmarked, this is the response he got: "We only want those people who want to see the cabin badly enough that they'll stop somewhere and ask directions."  https://www.nytimes.com/1991/09/01/travel/robert-frost-s-vermont.html


Mar312018March 31, 2018July 9, 2023by Glitterchicken

National Zoo

Posted in Nature

At the National Zoo in Washington, DC, conservation is key. And they’re not just monkeying around. They’re seriously committed to their mission of trying to rescue species teetering on the brink of extinction. Sure, they have all the cutesy attractions visitors would expect to find, like a carousel and a choo-choo train and a petting zoo called “Kid’s Farm,” but it’s so much more than a toddler’s playground.

Evidence of the National Zoo’s stated commitment to “Save Species” is everywhere.[1] Many of the animal exhibits teach you about where and how they live in the wild and the shrinkage of their habitats, particularly if they are vulnerable or endangered. Some exhibits even provide information about what you can do to help save species, such as stop buying cookies made with palm oil because rapid deforestation caused by palm oil plantations is destroying the habitat of several critically endangered species, including the orangutan, Borneo elephant, and Sumatran rhinoceros. (Homemade cookies taste better anyway). Consistent with its message, the zoo carefully chooses what it sells to the public. For example, it only sells Bird Friendly Coffee, which means the coffee beans come from farms using a combination of foliage cover, tree height and biodiversity to provide quality habitat for birds and other wildlife.[2]

What’s more, all of the money you spend at the zoo - whether it’s for a map, slice of pizza, or stuffed panda bear to clip on your backpack - goes toward funding the zoo’s conservation efforts.  So if things seem a tad bit more expensive, there’s a legitimate justification, especially when you factor in that zoo admission is FREE for EVERYONE. That’s right. No one ever has to pay to get inside.[3] Astounded, we wondered how can an organization so devoted to saving species possibly manage to stay open 364 days a year if it doesn’t charge an admission fee?[4] Then we learned from the nice brochure accompanying the map we bought that the National Zoo is part of the Smithsonian Institution, which operates numerous museums and the botanical gardens in Washington, DC, most of them at the National Mall. Because admission to all other Smithsonian buildings and gardens is free, its only logical that admission to the zoological gardens would be free too.[5]

When we dug a little deeper into the brochure, we learned that the National Zoo was created by an Act of Congress in 1889[6] for “the advancement of science and the instruction and recreation of the people,” after successful lobbying efforts led by scientist William Temple Hornaday, who witnessed the wild buffalo herds roaming the Great Plains get hunted to the brink of extinction.[7] Suddenly it all made sense; the Smithsonian’s National Zoo was tasked with the mission of conservation at its inception and it’s been following through ever since. That’s why they created the affiliated Conservation Biology Institute (SCBI) that initiates research projects aimed at saving species and offers educational opportunities and training for future conservationists.[8]

So now that we’ve given you the lowdown on why the Smithsonian National Zoo exists and what it’s all about, you might want to hear our recommendations on what to see when you visit. Honestly, that’s going to depend upon your area of interest. Is any animal worth more than another? Not to us. The name Glitterchicken was derived from Victor Van Gogh's concept that there’s no creature in the barnyard too lowly to sparkle and shine. But of course, no trip to the National Zoo is complete without viewing its most famous inhabitants, the Giant Pandas,[9] but we were thrilled to see the golden lion tamarins (tiny endangered Brazilian monkeys) leaping from branch to branch, the Bettongs (nocturnal Australian marsupials) bouncing on each other, and the King Cobra swaying his mesmerizing deadly dance.

The National Zoo is comprised of three parts – the Upper Zoo, the Valley, and the Lower Zoo, which are all connected by the Olmsted Walkway.[10] Starting at the Main Entrance at 3000 Connecticut Avenue NW, we took the Asia Trail down through the Upper Zoo, stopping to see the sloth bears and the giant pandas, and then stopped at the Elephant Community Center and the Przewalski’s horse enclosure in the Valley, and then spent the remainder of our visit in the Lower Zoo visiting the Small Mammal House, the Reptile Discovery Center, and the Great Ape House.  Some of our decision-making was based on the fact that it felt good to be indoors at times because the calendar said it was Spring, but the thermometer said it was still Winter. Most of our decisions were based on our desire to learn about animals we had never even heard of or rarely, if ever, get to see up close, like screaming hairy armadillos and naked mole rats.[11]

Be sure to check the Daily Animal Programs calendar (either online or print version) for a listing of events that will greatly enhance your family’s experience such as animal feeding and enrichment sessions and opportunities to chat with zookeepers. We enjoyed watching the giant pandas chow down on popsicles at their enrichment session and learned a lot from talking with an elephant keeper at the Elephant Community Center.

And last but not least, stop and pay a visit to our closest critically endangered closest living relatives – the orangutans. The National Zoo has installed something called an “O-line,” which resembles two tightropes strung close together for the orangutans to climb on, but when we visited, the orangutans weren’t interested in the O-line. They were interested in us. Three different orangutans pressed up right against the glass to ogle the crowds taking videos with their tablets and propping their dazed little kids up to the glass for photo ops. One kid was wearing a sock monkey hat. No wonder people-watching is the orangutans’ favorite pastime. The human zoo is entertaining, like reality TV. The scary part is the human zoo doesn’t have keepers; it’s wild and dangerous with the intellectual capacity to rationalize horrific behavior. Fortunately for the orangutans at the National Zoo, they’re safe behind the protective glass wall. If only the orangutans in Borneo and Sumatra were so lucky.

[1] All over the place there are posted signs and volunteers wearing buttons saying “We Save Species.”

[2] The Smithsonian’s National Zoo and its affiliated Conservation Biology Institute’s Migratory Bird Center invented the Smithsonian Bird Friendly designation, which they call the “only scientifically-backed shade grown coffee certification.” Products bearing this certification are recognizable by a gold emblematic seal symbolizing the gold standard in habitat conservation. For more information about Bird Friendly Coffee and where to buy it, see https://nationalzoo.si.edu/migratory-birds/where-buy-bird-friendly-coffee

[3] There is a donation box at the front gate, however, and other donation boxes scattered around the zoo that do provide an opportunity to give financial support. Our favorite is the box in the Elephant Community Center that trumpets like an elephant when you put your money in.

[4] The National Zoo is only closed on December 25th, Christmas Day. This gives the animals time to open their presents from Santa Claus, unless they were naughty and then they only get coal.

[5] Approximately 30 million people visit the Smithsonian every year free of charge. Two-thirds of the annual budget of 1.2 billion comes from federal appropriations and the remainder comes from the corporate contributions, membership dues, the Institution’s endowment, subscriptions to publications, and earned retail, concessions, and licensing revenue. For more facts about the Smithsonian Institution, see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Smithsonian_Institution

[6] In 1887, before the creation of the National Zoo, the Smithsonian exhibited the animals at the National Mall, where you can imagine, they were a big hit with visitors from all over the world.

[7] With wildlife so plentiful in the early days of the colonies and the United States, it must have been traumatic to see first-hand that extinction of a species was not only possible but could occur rapidly if immediate animal protection safeguards were not put in place.

[8] The SCBI facility in Front Royal, Virginia, is open to the public one a year for Conservation Discovery Day. The event features career panel discussions with conservation biologists, field ecologists, research scientists, veterinarians and animal keepers. This would be an excellent opportunity for anyone interested in a career in conservation. To learn more, see https://nationalzoo.si.edu/events/conservation-discovery-day

[9] Just like the story of Goldilocks and the 3 Bears, the National Zoo has a Mommy Bear (Mei Xiang), a Daddy Bear (Tian Tian), and a Baby Bear (Bei Bei).

[10] The Smithsonian’s National Zoo was designed by famous landscape architect Frederick Law Olmsted. Thus, the historic promenade running through it was named in his honor. Olmsted Walk was re-designed in 2017 by the firm Oehme, van Sweden (OvS) that re-interprets the National Zoo as a “biopark,” wherein traditional zoo exhibits have been expanded into “total environments” that call to mind the animals’ original habitats. For more about the renovation, see http://www.ovsla.com/portfolio-items/olmsted-walk-national-zoo-dc/

[11] Instead of curling up into a ball, screaming hairy armadillos scream when they’re in danger. Naked mole rats look  like mice without fur but with 2 long curved teeth they use to dig underground pathways.