In less than five hours of work, we built nearly a mile of new trail. The volunteers that turned out today were certainly the hardest working crew we've seen in quite some time. Of course the cool temperatures and overcast skies kept folks working.
It will be a few more weeks before hybrid tulips are blooming in these parts. While hybrids are elegant and beautiful, the early and unique blooms of species tulips are attractive to me. The tulips in the picture even beat the daffodils to the punch.
I'll try again on the spinach by direct seeding some into the garden tomorrow night if it doesn't rain.
To promote community gardening in Grand Rapids, I have joined with a few other gardeners to form the Grand Rapids Community Gardens blog.
Admittedly, some of the blogs will be a little reminiscent of what's found here.
A number of people have expressed interest in blogging, so you should see a few more names in the coming weeks. But right now it's just me an Travis Childs. Check out his most recent entry.
The dozens of crocuses blooming on the east side of the garage tell me that spring is certainly here. Tonight they stayed open into the warm evening hours.
The weather is also affirming the change in seasons. Today we got our first thunderstorm of the year on the very first day of spring. I couldn't think of a better way to celebrate the start of this season of renewal and growth.
The thunderstorm rolled in just after dark, so Abbey and I turned off all the lights in the house, opened up the back door, and watched, smelled and listened. We stood witness to nature's annual trick of fixing a little nitrogen in the soil and talked about our eagerness for the new season to green things up.
The curiosity of a nearly three year old seems insatiable at times. "Why does it do that Daddy?" Try explaining spring warm fronts, rain, lightening, thunder and the re-emergence of the garden to a child of her age. Doing so made me, as an adult, wonder just how and why the magic of a spring thunderstorm is actually possible.
I'm thankful for the way in which little eyes can help older ones see things in new ways.
The soil temp in the cold frame is now consistently about 60 degrees during daylight hours, and holds enough heat to keep the plants from freezing at night, even when temperatures have been dropping down to the upper teens.
While we were at Perkins, we cleaned out all forty plots from leftover items from years past. Chicken wire, tomato cages, wooden and metal stakes, lost hand tools, hoses, trash, water bottles and more.
Next time we can get a few folks out there, we'll shore up the fence around the spring planting plot. And we'll continue to chip away at the rototilling as more of the garden becomes sufficiently dry.
To begin with, the first of the spring sprouts are up in the cold frame! The broccoli raab has sprouted first. Now I just hope it gets through the next couple of cold nights that are forecasted.
We're simple folk, and easy to please.
The daily new developments have me looking forward to joining Abbey for a garden walk when I get home from work to see what new things have sprouted.
Take these tulips, or the daffodils below.
Around here in past years, it has taken more than a day or two after the snow melts for these plants to sprout. I'm chalking up this year's quick start to a mild December and January that allowed the bulbs to store up extra energy.
Gardeners aren't the only ones who anticipate spring. We just get to enjoy it a little more deeply.
Never mind that winter doesn't end for another eleven days, it's time to get gardening! While the snow drifts on the north side of the house are still as deep as the porch is high (about three feet), the earthworms in the soil beneath the cold frame are wriggling about, breaking up the soil, and getting things ready to grow.
A little later, I met Tom Cary out at the Perkins Community Garden and we trudged around in the boot-deep snow, measuring the fencing and deciding how we would lay out this year's plots. Inside Tom's cold frame, which was covered with snow, he still had some hearty spinach growing!
Temps are in the 40's this weekend, with near 60 predicted for Tuesday. Even with the cold front that is predicted to roll through the end of this week, daytime temperatures are forecasted to break freezing, and night time temps should only dip into the 20's. I'll have to think a bit about whether I'll want to add supplemental heat at night in the form of a 60-watt drop light.
In the winter, checking out the falls is a lot easier if you watch the internet for deals on hotels with a view of the falls. I did plenty of that this past winter and ended up snagging a really good deal for a "fallsview" room on the 31st floor of the Sheraton in Niagara.
Looks like the folks at the Appalachian Mountain Club's facility in Pinkham Notch, New Hampshire have their priorities set straight. According to this sign, it's hike, eat, sleep, then ask questions.
The morning was windy and very snowy, but by the time Abbey laid down for her afternoon nap, the wind had calmed and the snow had slowed down to a reasonable intensity for walking. I bundled up and strapped on my snowshoes with the intent of taking a short quarter-mile walk to Crystal Cascade.
As I started walking up the Tuckerman Ravine Trail, I realized that the path was nicely packed out below the foot of new powder and that the going was easy. The easy going quickly had me contemplating a longer walk.
When I got to Crystal Cascade, all ninety vertical feet of it were under snow and ice. It basically looked like a snowy hill. With that disappointment, my mind was made up that I would trudge on up the east slope of Mount Washington for another ninety minutes to see how far I would get.
By 3:30pm, I was standing at the foot of the lower headwall of Tuckerman Ravine and 1,850 feet higher than my starting point. While you can't see the dramatic headwall due to all the falling snow in the picture, this is the area on Mount Washington that is famous for springtime backcountry ski runs. Since the avalanche danger with the new snow was very high, no one was skiing the ravine. Instead, skiers and snowboarders headed down the John Sherburne Ski Trail.
Wearing snowshoes, I had to return back down the Tuckerman Ravine Trail. Heading downhill in a foot of powder definately goes much more quickly than going up. In fact, I arrived at the bottom within minutes of the snow boarders who left the ravine minutes after I did. They were surprised to see me at the bottom so quickly.
In all, it was a quiet 4.8 mile hike during which I saw only five other hikers and two on skis along the trail.
Yeah, the name is a bit sexist and I know plenty of lady's that can hike further and higher than most men. Nonetheless, we enjoyed the short walk in the woods among the birch, spruce and fir and worked up an appetite for dinner.
The climb was fairly easy, as the trail was well packed out. Crampons stayed in the backpack, even on the exposed summit, and snowshoes were not donned until the deep snows in the col between Hight and Carter Dome.
But the bright, warm sun and the incredible alpine scene took my mind off of the hard work.
From there, I descended the steep trail into Carter Notch, explored the frozen lakes, and checked in at the hut. The hut was filled with a dozen high schoolers. I wondered about why they ate lunch in the cold, dark hut while there was such a bright, beautiful, dramatic landscape outside. I guess years of eating lunch inside at the table had prompted them to be creatures of habit rather than patrons of the outdoor aesthetic.
From the hut, I climbed a steep pitch, then descended down the Nineteen Mile Brook Trail back to my car. It felt good to be walking downhill for a change.
