Monday, April 30, 2007

Tadpoles

Took a long walk along Alberton Road Saturday morning. I expected a crowd, and was shocked to find the parking lot empty. The river was very high, perhaps keeping the fishermen at home. But the road was dry, and we walked a long way. The rock spots were covered with water, unfortunately, so throwing rocks was not possible. Instead we ate snacks upon snacks, and we did some stomping through the woods and we played with tiny, tiny tadpoles in the puddles. I am still kicking myself for not bringing the camera...

Something about tadpoles brings kids right to their knees. My boys stared at a wriggling puddle for 15 minutes, getting thoroughly dirty and enjoying themselves immensely.

Sunday, April 15, 2007

Geocachers

You can spot them a mile away. Mostly two or thee in a group. They will be walking head-down, staring at a global positioning receiver (GPS). Stop, look at GPS, walk. Stop, look at GPS, walk, stop, push a button on GPS, stare at it for a while. Refer to a map. It’s the latest craze. I don’t get it.


I tried. There are several geocaches along the river. One is on the cliff not far from the Dogwood Rd. parking area.



I got the coordinates on-line, hiked to the spot with my trusty GPS, and easily found the canister under a rock. I took out the single sheet of white notebook paper, signed “PatapscoMike” with the date below the previous name. Then I walked back to my car, unfulfilled. I could have been fishing or wandering aimlessly. The last thing I want to do when I have free time is have to go look for something someone else has tried to hide from me. The whole idea of Geocaching seems to be that you give the GPS coordinates to a spot, but then you try to make the actual cache hard to locate within the 20 feet or so accuracy of a GPS receiver. WTF is that? I spend enough time looking for things in my house- why make it a hobby too?


Maybe it's just me, but geocaching reminds me of Mark Twain’s famous quote about golf- "a good walk, spoiled."


Maybe one day I’ll get into it, but I doubt it. If you think it’s for you, go to www.geocaching.com and read all about it. Maybe one day I'll see you down at the river. You won't see me though, you'll be staring at your GPS...

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

The Dam

To the boys, there are several rivers. There is "Train River" where the big trains rumble past. "Swimming River" is self-explanatory. The trail that hikes up the Howard County side of Daniels Dam impoundment is "Bridge River, Goose River, or Trail River," depending. When I ask where we should go, Drew names one of those rivers. All of them are of course the Patapsco, and all of those spots are within a mile of each other. But I'm not sure he realizes that it's the same river.

Then there is "The Dam." Daniels Dam, where the river runs over the dam with such force that both boys stare at it every time they hit the water and look up. When Drew stopped wearing diapers, we noticed that this sight and sound was enough to make him immediately pee his pants every time. The boys love the dam. It's loud, wet, always has a few fishermen, herons, geese, or something going on to look at. And there is an unlimited supply of small rocks. It's perfect.

We walked down to the dam yesterday. Nick was still scared from a recent tumble into a pond, so he hung back and sat with me on a log. Drew threw rocks for the better part of an hour, only stopping to get a piece of Easter candy now and then. Two fishermen were steadily catching trout as we watched. It was windy and raw, and the water was cold. Neither boy complained when I said it was time to walk back up the hill to the warmth of our fireplace. Of course, they knew we were going to roast marshmallows...

Tuesday, April 3, 2007

Down the Hill

Diapers, check. Wipes, check. Snacks, check.

OK boys, into the stroller!

Down the hill we went. Left onto the gravel road, and out spilled the boys to scramble for rocks. Four rocks in four hands, eager eyes looked for targets. That log. Big tree. Rock. Water!

Walk. Stop. Throw rocks. Repeat. Endless supplies of rocks and energy.

Perfect weather. We made it as far as the old bridge abutments, where we stopped for mineral water, dehydrated bananas and apples. Nick wasn't interested in the food, instead throwing sticks to an odd couple of one Canada and one domestic goose. They tested each stick in case one might be bread. Poor luck for them.

Paddlers were out today, and dog walkers. I met a neighbor and his 7 month old. We poked into the Camel's Den, looking for "big owl."

The boys just dropped off to sleep, exhausted. Dreaming no doubt of the flowing water and splash of rocks.