The Erie was a'Risin'

 

Sorry, no Gin.

I was 8 when we moved to the Mohawk Valley. Theretofore unknown to me, it became a talisman.

 From the old limestone abutment at the bottom of the driveway where we first discovered Painted Turtles to Molly's Hannibal, a beloved book about a canal mule, I have loved the canal most of my life.

We learned the canal songs in school. Rome Haul could be found on the shelves of the folks' bookstore. (I have only ever read part of it...guess I should try again.) Mom took us to swim under the Schoharie Crossing aqueduct back when that was possible. (You couldn't pay me now.,)

Nowadays, I bird the banks of the Schoharie, the area around the aqueduct, the surrounding fields and the edges of the Mohawk almost daily. I've submitted 880 checklists from there so far.

We stopped there today on the way home from one of Ralph's doctor consultations (IYKYK). It was late enough in the day that birding was not exactly scintillating, but it sure was an interesting visit.

I was peering through the binoculars at the cattails under the aqueduct, looking for herons or migrating shorebirds (I need several common species of the latter). To my considerable amazement, there on the little beach they made last year, sticking up through the foliage, was what appeared to be a horse's head.

Not a live horse, but a beautifully crafted fabric creature.

Color me intrigued.

Indigo Bunting photographed at the crossing
We'll just color him blue.

I slow-footed over, not wanting to intrude on anyone, to find a man taking photos of the coolest canoe you could imagine. I waited until he paused and asked if I could photograph it...I knew you would want to see it... 

He pointed to a pair of young women who were approaching, and said, "It's their canoe, you can talk to them."

And talk I did, for a heckin' long time. They actually interviewed me, a first in my sheltered life so far. 

I am normally about as introverted as a particularly shy bivalve, but they asked me about birds. You cannot shut me up about them once I get started.

Anyhow, they are doing a canoe trip up the Erie to Buffalo, interviewing people and visiting canal-related sites along the way. The horse is in fact a mule; the trip is called the Mule's Passage. From Waterford NY's Facebook page "The Mule’s Passage launches from Waterford, where artists Z Behl and Kim Moloney (Baloney Steel) will begin an extraordinary four-week, 350-mile canoe journey upstream to Buffalo. Along the way, they’ll meet people, collect stories, and create community-centered performances exploring the Erie Canal’s history, ecology, labor, and culture. "

They gave me a little bottle of bug repellent, which I promise I will try, as I am a well-known mosquito magnet, and a newspaper, describing their goals and philosophies. As an old Boomer, I do see the world a bit differently than they might. However, I loved reading of their experiences during some major events, such as 9-11 that touched them a lot closer than it did up here in the more northern bits of the state.

If you would like to see their extraordinary craft or perhaps get a chance to meet them, they will be stopping in Canajoharie tonight, and traveling to St. Johnsville tomorrow. You can find the rest of their itinerary on the Waterford NY Facebook page.  

I was glad we stopped at the boat launch today even though there were no herons.

Had a lovely chat with this nice
gentleman as well
but we talked fishing and my favorite lake

The Popsicles were right There

Come along with me for a quick bit of time travel back to the early nineteen-sixties. We Montgomery kids spent the summers and most of our weekends hanging out around the folks' two stores, Montgomery's Antiques and the Tryon County Book Store. We were downright feral in those days and went pretty much wherever we wanted to.

BITD kids had to get creative to acquire cash even in tiny amounts. We had been known to check out the alley behind the row of shops where ours were located for stray dimes and nickels lost from the pockets of the patrons of certain now long closed establishments. Sometimes there were even quarters.

We also sat in the bookstore while Mom and Dad worked in the antique store, and either sold books ourselves or called them to help when things got interesting. 10% commission folks, plus all the ancient books you could read. Tarzan, Hardy Boys, Roy Chapman Andrews anyone?

Despite these excellent sources of income, when the Newberry's Five and Dime up the street got in a little box of horses like the one above, I had a rough time finding enough cash to buy him. It took weeks.

After all, saving was hard for a kid. In those days Collins' Market was just two doors east (the dime store was around six stores west). 

Popsicles were right there! 

And only a nickel. Grape was my favorite.

That oh-so-desirable red horse was priced at 29 cents, a veritable fortune's worth of Nehi, or Royal Palm or Double Bubble (two for a penny.) Six Three Musketeers at a nickel each!

The store also had cheaper horses, mere dimes and nickels in price. I could have had several for the price of old red. 

Somehow though I turned my back on sugar and cheaper temptations and bought him, plus a black one and a white one that were posed a bit differently. The bay markings, blaze and stockings are courtesy of a paint by number set I cannibalized (he was born a chestnut) and there is the tiniest trace of modeling clay stuck to one leg. I used to make bridles and saddles of same for my many toy horses.

Today this little horse is the only one left. The rest of a cardboard boxful, which I carted wherever I went, was lost somewhere along the way. However, he still lives in the China closet in the dining room, along with antique fishing lures, rocks, minerals and actual China and stuff. 

I don't play with him any more, but I wouldn't trade him for a dozen grape popsicles or a case of Orange Crush either.

***we searched Google and eBay for similar toys and didn't find a single one. Wonder where they all went.

Summer 26

Weird summer here for sure. Long dry spells interrupted by sometimes days of torrential rainfall. It's been cooler than normal for the most part and I'll take it. 70s beat 90s, mercury down.

Birding has been fair to middling...mostly middling. Our usual haunts offer the usual birds to the point that I have to drag myself out to chase them. Lots of babies though. The Rose-breasted Grosbeaks that summer here have brought, I think, 3 kids in to feed at the feeders. They chirp all day and sound EXACTLY like Eastern Bluebirds to the point that they even fool Merlin. They drive me nuts (!) as I cannot for the life of me stop looking for bluebirds. 

We got a new dog in May, from Ayres Shelter, an Aussie I named Marieta, Rita for short. She is a fascinating puzzle...where did she come from? She was found running down the road in Auriesville. What name or names did she have before? She answered to Rita right from day one. What weird or unfortunate things happened to her before? I am sure we will never know the answers to these questions, but we fell in love with her right promptly and put up with the nonsense as part of the deal of having her.

We were able to rent our favorite cabin at Peck's Lake this year and had only 1 1/2 days of less than great weather, although that week it was pretty hot. On my very last cast of the year I caught the biggest fish I have ever hooked in my life. It jumped over a low-hanging fir branch, tangling the line there, and I had a heckin' time getting it landed. What a thrill!

On the downside I took a terrible fall in the camp driveway while walking "my 10". Large, crushed stone makes a lousy landing pad. My face smashed into the ground; why my glasses didn't break I will never know, as they impacted hard and sharp right on a rock, and I hurt stuff. Ribs, wrists, face, soft tissue here and there. Stubborn old fool that I am I elected to tough it out. 20 days later it's mostly down to dull aches and lingering pains. Guess what doesn't kill us makes us stronger. Still walking my 10 so...

Not yet, my fine feathered friend
Not yet

The garden has done pretty well. Lots of lettuce, some nice garlic, plenty of herbs to dry. I fear for my tomatoes though. There maybe some blight taking hold out there, or it may be just the uneven watering due to the weird weather. A few of them are getting a little curly on the edges.

Anyhow, it feels more like September than July here and that is fine with me. Hope you are doing well and enjoying the outdoors....

Watch your step!

Happy Father's Day

To these fine dads

and all the rest of you good men out there.

Have a great one! 

Storm

 

Not today!

That was some storm last night.

Nobody got enough sleep to mention....huge rains, hour upon hour, thunder, lightning that made the indoors bright as day.

Pure misery. It lasted all night. The weather radar showed green, accented with orange red and yellow over the entire state and beyond. I read that Pennsylvania had a flurry of tornado activity!

This morning the leftover cloud banks over the Adirondacks looked like an extra set of mountain ranges perched over the real deal and ready to rumble.

Today a brisk cool wind is racing over the ground, shuddering the trees and whipping the grasses. Still more clouds are scudding across the sun, fast and furious, and in a hurry to get somewhere though even they don't know where.

I am over that storm, just plumb over it!