This past weekend I visited my best friend at his farm in Jefferson NY, a small town in the northern foothills of the Catskills. It is a beautiful piece of property (~100 acres) of open pasture land and forest. While I did not grow up on a farm, we did have chickens, which has since made me a bit of an egg-snob. As a kid and then at the University of New Hampshire I had the opportunity to work on two vegetable farms, which were great experiences.

It was interesting and exciting to visit my friend’s young farm. In a way he is bringing a very old farm back to life, the land has not been in agriculture for a few decades. Farming is certainly more than a job, it’s a way of life, and it seems to suit him perfectly.

The northeast is dotted with small farms, and their historical remnants. My grandparents grew up on farmland in New Hampshire which are now housing developments, but much of the historical agricultural land in New England converted back to forest when farmers headed to factory jobs in the city, or to better soil conditions in the Midwest. The property I grew up in Springfield NH was an old homestead. Besides the standard stonewalls found throughout the Northeast,  the stone foundation from the house, a stone slab where the barn was, and the old stone-lined well is all that remains. While wandering in the woods, my twin brother and I would occasionally find remnants of the old farm: such as gnarly old apple trees, metal wheel rims, and rusted-out steel buckets. [The photos below were taken by my wife.]

They have sheep, goats, chickens, and bees.

“Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front”
from The Country of Marriage, copyright © 1973 by Wendell Berry

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.

So, friends, every day do something
that won’t compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.

Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millennium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.

Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion – put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?

Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn’t go. Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.

For the long weekend, I took Friday off and headed (with Kermit) to the Green Mountain Nation Forest, in Vermont. I have done very little hiking or exploring in the Green Mountains, so I was excited to check it out. Because of a minor injury in my foot, I did not want to do any strenuous backpacking or hiking, but I did not want to just car camp in a packed National Forest or state camp ground. Grout Pond Recreation Area seemed like the perfect fit for what I was looking for. A five-mile long trail circles Grout Pond, and within the first two miles there are several primitive camp sites along or near the pond. Additionally, there are several more miles of trails in the area around the pond. There is a small public access area to the pond, however, there is no boat launch, and motorized watercraft are not permitted.

The forest in this area is characterized by mixed hardwood and coniferous trees. To me, it seems like a semi-boreal forest, with some areas dense with fir, spruce, yellow birch, and the occasional mountain maple. Needless to say, it is very thick, and difficult to bushwhack through. However, we spent a significant amount of time exploring and bushwhacking off-trail.

Jewel weed (Impatiens capensis) is abundant along near shore and in the wet areas of the forest

Normally when I backpack I sleep under a tarp, but since it was not too far of a walk in, I chose to bring a tent, along with plenty of other items that I would not typically drag out on a real backpacking trip.

Kermit was happy to rest after spending hours walking through the dense forest.

Some leaves are beginning to change

I used a spruce twig bundle to start the fire. The first night it took me 2 matches (out of practice?), but only 1 the next day.

The first night and morning were pleasantly chilly (a low in the high 40s)

Kermit waited patiently as I explored the pond during sunrise

A view of the trail around Grout Pond, along a wet portion.

On the second day, I walked the loop trail around the pond and explored along the shoreline. The trail cuts through several wetland patches, which is where I found this beautiful flower. I was taking photos to ID it, when this energetic bee stopped by!

Fantastic weather

A beautiful fungus

Gold thread (Coptis groenlandica)

Some of the hobblebush, or moosewood, (Viburnum lantanoides) is beginning to change colors to an incredible deep-purple.

Indian cucumber root (Medeola virginiana) is one of the plants I never encountered while was in Illinois. Unlike many edible plants, indian cucumber root has a decent-tasting root.

Indian pipe! Such a cool little plant

Great-looking shelf fungus on a dead beech tree

I found this beautiful spider while I was out collecting firewood. As you can sort of tell in the photo, I accidentally damaged its intricate web before I noticed it, when I was dragging a dead sapling I cut down.

Early yesterday I went back to Sleeping Giant with Kermit. We went up the Blue Trail again, this time I found it to much quicker and easier for Kermit (and myself!), since we both have had some time to get back into hiking shape. I brought my little point-and-shoot field camera, however, the battery was low and died just after I took this one photo. It was a beautiful morning, with a clear sky and empty trails.