B is for... Baby Steps, Bearfort Ridge, Bear Safety

B is for... Baby steps 

7.5 weeks ago, I broke my ankle and ended up with bilateral pulmonary embolisms (blood clots in my lungs) that almost took my life. More information on that HERE. I finally was given a walking boot last week, but the fit was wrong. After poring over Amazon listings for hours, we settled on an air cast - with a pumper that reminded me of 90s sneakers. On Monday night, I walked - my first steps in over 7 weeks - to the car and back. On Tuesday, I walked from the bottom of the stairs to the family room and then into the kitchen and back. I was on a roll, but the best was yet to come.

Yesterday (Wednesday), I took things to the next level. Okay, even beyond the next level. I had been dreaming about hiking - even on a boardwalk or pavement - for weeks. I ached for it. Funny how I was such a purist about hiking only on dirt or rocks  - or it didn't count - for so long and now I was willing to accept boardwalks and pavement as long as I was in the woods. Pushing myself or being pushed in the wheelchair through the woods are not enough. I wanted to hike on my own two feet and add those miles to my hiking mileage log. I wanted that sense of accomplishment again that only hiking could give me. I wanted to feel the ground under my feet - or boardwalk, pavement, whatever - and be surrounded by trees bowing to the wind. I was going to do it. I was ready.

I downloaded a pedometer app onto my phone; it uses the sensor to "feel" each step and tracks steps, distance, time, and speed. I tested it out by walking from the front steps to the car and it seemed about accurate. We drove over to the Great Swamp, a swampy area with boardwalks. We took my wheelchair since I knew I wouldn't make it very far and wanted to complete the loop even after I had tired of walking. "I'll just do a couple hundred feet. Even a hundred will be enough," I told Jon. That was my goal. 100 feet.

At the start of the boardwalk, I stood up and left the wheelchair behind. I broke free of my confines and stood up on my own two feet, surrounded by woods. My first steps were shaky. The boardwalk undulates a bit, the wooden planks warped by weather and time. My boot is rounded at the bottom so I had to get used to rolling forward on it and using the other foot to balance myself. Finally I got into a rhythm. The inside of my ankle twinged in pain at first -  not the part that I broke, but I suspect I tore a ligament in my inner ankle. But with each step, the pain subsided. At first I clutched the railing like a toddler learning to walk. But as I found my balance, I needed it less and less. I swung my arms wildly in the air, completely unashamed and not at all self-conscious.

After about 10 and a half minutes, I was panting for breath and was done with my adventure. Only 10 minutes! "How many steps have I gone?" I asked myself aloud. I took out my phone. 1,100 steps, 0.46 miles, and I had been walking 2.5 miles per hour! I sunk into the wheelchair, amazed at my progress and completely in awe of myself - as prideful as that sounds! I had meant to hike 100 steps, shuffling along at a snail's pace, But look at me! I finished the circuit in my wheelchair. I had earned this rest.

After we picked Liam up from the bus stop, we went over to the playground and I walked to the bench, sat down, and walked back to the car later. And then - be still, my heart - we went to the Morristown Diner and I walked from the car into the diner, we sat in a BOOTH (first time since breaking my ankle), and I walked back to the car. Then I walked inside the house, I walked up the stairs - instead of going up on my butt - and I flung myself into my bed with a satisfied smile spreading across my face.

And then, as quickly as I could, I wrote down my accomplishments for the day in my log, sat back, and admired my hard work. My shuffling baby steps had added up. And I am now sure that I will be back on the trail - on the more difficult trails - sooner than I imagined. Maybe not immediately, but sooner than I had expected. With tall, hard braces on and all the gear I need to stay safe - but mark my words, I will be back on that trail. And I will be fiercer than ever.



B is for... Bearfort Ridge 

CLICK HERE to read about our experience at Bearfort Ridge earlier this year!




B is for... Bear Safety

Stock photo of a black bear 

The following is from the National Park Service:

"Avoiding an Encounter

Following viewing etiquette is the first step to avoiding an encounter with a bear that could escalate into an attack. Keeping your distance and not surprising bears are some of the most important things you can do. Most bears will avoid humans if they hear them coming. Pay attention to your surroundings and make a special effort to be noticeable if you are in an area with known bear activity or a good food source, such as berry bushes.

Bear Encounters

Once a bear has noticed you and is paying attention to you, additional strategies can help prevent the situation from escalating.

• Identify yourself by talking calmly so the bear knows you are a human and not a prey animal. Remain still; stand your ground but slowly wave your arms. Help the bear recognize you as a human. It may come closer or stand on its hind legs to get a better look or smell. A standing bear is usually curious, not threatening.
• Stay calm and remember that most bears do not want to attack you; they usually just want to be left alone. Bears may bluff their way out of an encounter by charging and then turning away at the last second. Bears may also react defensively by woofing, yawning, salivating, growling, snapping their jaws, and laying their ears back. Continue to talk to the bear in low tones; this will help you stay calmer, and it won't be threatening to the bear. A scream or sudden movement may trigger an attack. Never imitate bear sounds or make a high-pitched squeal.
• Pick up small children immediately.
• Hike and travel in groups. Groups of people are usually noisier and smellier than a single person. Therefore, bears often become aware of groups of people at greater distances, and because of their cumulative size, groups are also intimidating to bears.
• Make yourselves look as large as possible (for example, move to higher ground).
• Do NOT allow the bear access to your food. Getting your food will only encourage the bear and make the problem worse for others.
• Do NOT drop your pack as it can provide protection for your back and prevent a bear from accessing your food.
• If the bear is stationary, move away slowly and sideways; this allows you to keep an eye on the bear and avoid tripping. Moving sideways is also non-threatening to bears. Do NOT run, but if the bear follows, stop and hold your ground. Bears can run as fast as a racehorse both uphill and down. Like dogs, they will chase fleeing animals. Do NOT climb a tree. Both grizzlies and black bears can climb trees.
• Leave the area or take a detour. If this is impossible, wait until the bear moves away. Always leave the bear an escape route.
• Be especially cautious if you see a female with cubs; never place yourself between a mother and her cub, and never attempt to approach them. The chances of an attack escalate greatly if she perceives you as a danger to her cubs.

Bear Attacks

Bear attacks are rare; most bears are only interested in protecting food, cubs, or their space. However, being mentally prepared can help you have the most effective reaction. Every situation is different, but below are guidelines on how brown bear attacks can differ from black bear attacks. Help protect others by reporting all bear incidents to a park ranger immediately. Above all, keep your distance from bears!

• Brown/Grizzly Bears: If you are attacked by a brown/grizzly bear, leave your pack on and PLAY DEAD. Lay flat on your stomach with your hands clasped behind your neck. Spread your legs to make it harder for the bear to turn you over. Remain still until the bear leaves the area. Fighting back usually increases the intensity of such attacks. However, if the attack persists, fight back vigorously. Use whatever you have at hand to hit the bear in the face.
• Black Bears: If you are attacked by a black bear, DO NOT PLAY DEAD. Try to escape to a secure place such as a car or building. If escape is not possible, try to fight back using any object available. Concentrate your kicks and blows on the bear's face and muzzle.

If any bear attacks you in your tent, or stalks you and then attacks, do NOT play dead—fight back! This kind of attack is very rare, but can be serious because it often means the bear is looking for food and sees you as prey.

Bear-Deterrent Spray

Bear-deterrent spray can be an important tool to carry in backcountry settings in case you encounter an aggressive, charging, or attacking grizzly bear. However, it is generally not recommended in developed areas with large concentrations of people, and the scent left after discharging the spray may actually attract bears. Check with your national park before visiting to see if bear-deterrent spray is recommended or allowed for the activities you plan to engage in. Practice and training with bear-deterrent spray prior to an encounter are advised. Learn more about selecting and using bear-deterrent spray:"

CLICK HERE to read about our encounter with a bear!

A is for... Aspergers, Appalachian Trail

A is for: Aspergers

It's now called "high functioning autism", they've removed  the term Aspergers from the DSM, but most people know it as Aspergers. The following conversation has happened more than handful of times: 

Me: He has autism.
Person: No! He doesn't LOOK like he has autism! 
Me: He has Aspergers.
Person: Oh yeah, I could see that. 

Aspergers is a form of autism! Not all autistic people are on the low-functioning end of the spectrum. It's called a spectrum for a reason.

What does "autistic" look like anyway?

According to WebMD, Aspergers symptoms include:

• Not pick up on social cues and may lack inborn social skills, such as being able to read others' body language, start or maintain a conversation, and take turns talking.
• Dislike any changes in routines.
• Appear to lack empathy. --- My note: I will tell you that they may APPEAR to lack empathy, but they often have it in spades. Other peoples' pain can be overwhelming for people on the spectrum.
• Be unable to recognize subtle differences in speech tone, pitch, and accent that alter the meaning of others' speech. So your child may not understand a joke or may take a sarcastic comment literally. And his or her speech may be flat and hard to understand because it lacks tone, pitch, and accent.
• Have a formal style of speaking that is advanced for his or her age. For example, the child may use the word "beckon" instead of "call" or the word "return" instead of "come back."
• Talk a lot, usually about a favorite subject. One-sided conversations are common. Internal thoughts are often verbalized.
• Avoid eye contact or stare at others.
• Have unusual facial expressions or postures.
• Be preoccupied with only one or few interests, which he or she may be very knowledgeable about. Many children with Asperger's syndrome are overly interested in parts of a whole or in unusual activities, such as designing houses, drawing highly detailed scenes, or studying astronomy. They may show an unusual interest in certain topics such as snakes, names of stars, or dinosaurs.
• Have delayed motor development. Your child may be late in learning to use a fork or spoon, ride a bike, or catch a ball. He or she may have an awkward walk. Handwriting is often poor.
• Have heightened sensitivity and become overstimulated by loud noises, lights, or strong tastes or textures. For more information about these symptoms, see sensory processing disorder.

Liam has many of these symptoms. His current obsession is Ancient Egypt and he says "canopic jar" and "sarcophagus" without skipping a beat. Eye contact is difficult. He often plays physically with his best friends - who are also very active children - because he knows the physical play rules. They're simple: Don't hit, don't push, don't trip, etc. Playing on a more social-emotional level is hard for him. 

I love him just as he is.

There is a lot more that I could say about Aspergers, but I wanted to keep this on the short side. So here's another "A" theme.

A is for: Appalachian Trail (AT) 

An AT sign in a NJ/NY section

The Appalachian Trail is a long-distance path - over 2,100 miles - that spans from Georgia up to Maine. The completion of the trail usually takes about 6 months - give or take. The white-blazed footpath travels through 14 different states:

1. Georgia
2. North Carolina
3. Tennessee
4. Virginia
5. West Virginia
6. Maryland
7. Pennsylvania
8. New Jersey
9. New York
10. Connecticut
11. Massachusetts
12. Vermont
13. New Hampshire

14. Maine

According to Applachian Trails, the elevation gain/loss of the Applachian Trail (throughout the entire path) is equivalent to hiking Mount Everest 16 times! That's one heck of an ascent in total!

There are two types of approaches when it comes to hiking the AT. You can either hike it in pieces (section hikers) or do it all in one shot (thru-hikers). As far I can tell, you must camp out at designated shelters along the way. People get "trail names" as they hike - usually bestowed upon you by fellow ATers. 

There are two approaches to backpacking as well: Regular backpacking and "ultra light". Ultra light is exactly as it sounds - packing as light as humanly possible. There is a lot of (sometimes expensive) gear on the market aimed for ultra light backpackers. We plan to backpack somewhere in between.

                                        Image from David Burville's AT Page  

Our dream is to hike the AT as a thru-hike. Yes, we are that crazy! It may be in 20 years - when Liam is grown up and when we have the financial means to leave our regular lives for 6 months - but it is our goal! Every hike, every mile brings us closer to being fit enough to do it one day. It may take two decades, but we will do it. John Muir's quote rings through my ears at least once a day: 

"The mountains are calling and I must go." 

A New Day

I could rail against the fact that I can't hike right now. I could caps lock SCREAM. I could leave this blog dormant until my ankle heals, until my feet are roaming the dirt again. And pretend it doesn't exist until I have new adventures to talk about. Or I could continue to use blog as a creative and informative outlet. 

I choose the latter. 

So here's my idea. Alphabetizing themes. Each day will be a new letter and themes that start with that letter. Each theme has to do with hiking information, our hiking experiences, our hobbies, special needs information that relate to us, and more. For example:

A is for: Anticipation, Autism, AT 

B is for: Bear safety... etc.

That day I will write short essays on those themes. I've already plotted out themes for each letter - including Q and X! - so I am ready and I am game. 

A Warrior's Truth

From our camping trip 8/15/15

(I just like this photo)

Last night, I cried. In fact I've been crying on and off (mostly on) since 3.5 weeks ago when I went into the hospital for bilateral pulmonary embolisms which almost took my life. The night before, my symptoms started... and I waited until the morning. And I might not have woken up. That has haunted me. I am still battling the physical and emotional scars that go along with it. Every time I have chest pain, I wonder "Am I throwing another clot? Should I go to the ER?" It is exhausting, it is anxiety producing, it is isolating. Not everyone understands. There is trauma that accompanies life-threatening illness. It is messy. And it is not easily swept away. 

I've been waiting for my "AHA!" moment where life suddenly seems beautiful and precious and instead I was met with crippling depression. Today I woke up at 4 am, it's 7 am now... and suddenly I feel like a warrior. I read the word "warrior" on Facebook and immediately, out of nowhere, I knew that word describes me. It's not that "AHA! I know my purpose in life" moment I thought I'd get. But I feel fierce, I feel like fire. I am fire. 

I have been a special needs mom to Liam for 5 years and I've felt like a mama bear, but never a warrior in my own right. I've always considered Liam to be the warrior and us to be his support system, his advocates, his loving grizzly family. Right now I feel like my own warrior. The hero of my own story. I hope this feeling continues so I continue to really FIGHT for my health instead of feel passive, incapable, and vulnerable. I hope this is my turning point. I may not be totally void of tears, I may not know what my purpose in life is in the grand scheme of things, but I think - I really truly think - that this is my moment.

I am a warrior. I am fire. This is my truth. 

Graves and Caves - Just Another Day at Wildcat

Looking back at old hikes, this one dates back to Sunday, September 6, 2015. 

Wildcat Reserve in Upper Hibernia, New Jersey

That day we tried Farny first, with wild, unrealistic hopes that it might be less packed. The lot - again - was completely full. We skipped right over to Wildcat for our Plan B. Wildcat is always a good bet because it has so many trails and span over 3,700 acres. There is always something new to explore. I had read a blog post about a graveyard in the middle of the woods at Wildcat. Which is surely not something you see every day! Today, armed with a map, we intended to find it. Our plans were to find the graveyard and return. My feet - remember, this was two before my broken ankle - were sore from planar fasciitis and they longed for an easy, level path. The hiker in me wanted to rebel, but my feet have the final say. 

Wildcat has several parking lots to choose from, but we started at our regular lot. The orange trail leads up to Hawk Watch and, if you take it to the right from the parking lot, it goes past a gate onto a level gravel trail. We passed the gate and began our hike. The scenery here was vastly different than the way up to Hawk Watch, which feels like deep woods. On this side of the orange trail there were tall grasses, telephone poles scattered here and there, and a wide gravel path. Liam was uncomfortable with the tall grasses. He is one inch shy of four feet tall and the grasses were almost as tall as he was! Whenever we reached a spot where the plants invaded the trail, Jon would push them away from Liam with his pole. But once the grass was up to Liam's shoulders, Jon would lift him up over his shoulder and carry him through. 

The trail was not well marked, but I suppose they figured you couldn't miss your way. But in fact you could as there were unmarked turn-offs that an inattentive hiker could wander down for hours. At every intersection, we would stop and Jon would go ahead to try to locate an orange blaze on a tree or rock. My feet couldn't handle too much unnecessary walking. We passed a few old boundary walls which, I thought, may have dated to the early Dutch settlers. You can find many Dutch walls in northern New Jersey. At this point, we consulted the map and took an unmarked trail that promised to lead to the graveyard. We weren't sure if it would be obvious once we got there.

Sure enough, it was obvious. There before us stood a large wooden sign with unmarked crosses leaning behind it. The graveyard dated back to 1866.

Graves peeked out behind the grass. I looked to Liam to see if he was nervous. Not one bit. He wanted to explore. Our only rules were: Do not step too close to the graves as it is disrespectful and do not touch the graves. It was hard to find where we could pick our way through; there was no clear path. And the headstones were scattered haphazardly. We started reading the names and dates on the graves and found that many on this side of the graveyard were Irish names with deaths dating to the beginning of the graveyard (according to the sign). 

We picked our way through and entered the other side of the graveyard which was less overgrown. There, resting on a headstone, was something I didn't expect to see in a Christian graveyard dating from the 19th and early 20th century. It was a little Native American dreamcatcher along with a shell. To this day I wonder who put it there. Was the deceased of Native American descent? Who was continuing to put little offerings on the gravestones? The dreamcatcher looked relatively new, definitely not dating back to the person's death. The name, an anglo name, held no clues. 

Dreamcatcher

A rosary on top of a headstone - who is leaving these offerings to this day?

I stopped and looked down. A shiver passed through me when I came upon two discs painted with pictures of menacing-looking clowns. I had found one on the top of Torne Mountain, by the stone living room. I hadn't picked that one up. I had to find out what the mystery of the clowns was and so I picked these two up. One was a record in terrible shape. Both had writing on their backs. Reading that the person who had left them had a facebook page and that it was a sort of game involving New Jersey's creepier places (like a graveyard in the middle of the woods) lessened the shivers. I put them back where I find them. 

Liam was hungry, so we took care to find a tree root and rock away from the graves where we could eat. It didn't feel scary in the graveyard, only peaceful. I felt like I could sit there forever. I could hear small animals - chipmunks maybe - rustling around, but other than that... stillness. Solitude. Even Liam was quiet - which is quite unusual for him. It was a lovely, still moment. 

After we ate a couple of Pop Tarts, we continued around this side of the graveyard. We noticed that the names here were Eastern European - in fact I looked them up later and found that several of them were Czech. I found it fascinating that a flimsy bramble border separated the Irish section from the Czech section. More questions. Why were they separated? This was a mining area around the time of these graves. Where had the homes of these miners been? The gravel road - did it date back further than I had thought? Were the boundary walls not, in fact, Dutch? Did they date to the 19th century, built by Czechs and Irishmen? So many questions.

Now, after having our fill of solitude, we had a decision to make. Would we walk back to the orange trail and take it back in a usual out-and-back fashion? Or make our trip a little longer, continue on the unmarked path, take it to the white - creating a loop - and take it back to the orange? This is called a lollipop or balloon hike. We decided on the latter. My curiosity won out over my aching foot. On our way over to the white, a mountain biker whizzed by. Before he could get much further past us, I called out.

"Is this the way to the white?" I called.

He stopped. He told us that yes, it was. He'd been biking here for many years. I asked if he had seen the graveyard and he gave us a knowing smile. Yes, he had, he visits it often. He told us about the miners who worked here, that if we looked around more, we'd see mining exploration pits. I had seen a few on the Beaver Loop Trail. We began talking in depth about Wildcat (he hadn't known it was even called Wildcat, he just knew the area by heart). Oh, we MUST see the bat caves, he told us. We asked if we could get to them from here.

"No, you have to park on the other side of the park." He began giving us instructions that we promptly forgot. Jon and I are hopeless when it comes to verbal directions. We do much better with a map. So after he left us, we checked the map. After our lollipop hike, we'd get in the car and drive to the other side of the park. From there, it was a very short hike to the bat caves. Bat caves? I couldn't envision what they would look like. 

We turned off to the white trail and immediately the terrain became a quite a bit rougher. I wondered how the mountain biker was able to ride this section. We walked on a narrow ridge with a trench beside it. As we were about to rejoin the orange, we saw a small group of people walking the opposite way. I was about to ask them if they had ever been to the graveyard before, but thought better of it. I felt it was probably better not to alert strangers to the graveyard in case they found it a good spot to drink and litter. I felt proprietary about the graveyard. I wanted to keep the deceased people's final resting place safe.

After finishing the hike, we came back to the gate, hopped into our car, and drove to the other parking lot.

When we got there, we noticed that there were two places to park. We took a look at the map and decided to follow the blue. The map made the bat caves look as if they were almost directly on top of the parking lot. As we walked down the blue, we came across several large ruins to our right. Of course we have to climb on ruins, it's our family's unspoken rule. We clambered to the top. I couldn't place the age of the structure. It appeared to be concrete, but some areas exposed roughly shaped stones underneath. I wondered if it was at all related to the mining community. 

We were getting more and more confused about where the bat caves could possibly be. We walked over to the brook and stood on another set of ruins. It was a lovely picturesque scene - as long as you didn't mind the cars whizzing by over the bridge. We consulted the map again, but in fact, contrary to what the map said, the bat caves were NOT close to the parking lot. We continued on and came to the intersection between the orange and white. We chose the white intuitively and, as it turned out, we chose well! We came across a sign that read: BAT HIBERNACULUM TRAIL

We turned off onto this trail and came across a group of teenagers, congregated on a wooden platform, smoking cigarettes. I asked them where the bat caves were and they were extremely friendly, pointing us in the right direction and informing us that it was like stepping into air conditioning. It was a hot day so this I looked forward to.

And they were right. As we walked towards the metal grate, surrounded on both sides by gigantic rock walls, we were met with an arctic blast. The temperature dropped from the 80s to possibly the 50s or below. It was like walking into a refrigerator. The sweat on my brow turned positively frigid. It was a welcome relief from the heat. The walls bore down on us, making us feel very small. I wanted to get closer to the grate, but Liam refused. At the cemetery, he was not nervous at all. Here he felt intimidated by the teenagers, he felt dread when he thought about a dark cave. This was too much for him. He stood back with Jon. I took a look at a sign beyond the metal grate that said that the bats need a stable temperature and environment and those who trespass into the cave will be prosecuted. The sign was stuck to a concrete wall behind the metal bars with small openings just big enough for a bat to pass through. I couldn't see how someone could get in to disturb the bats, but I kept my distance all the same. 

On our way out, Liam had an ataxic episode. It made him drag his feet, wobbly and not quite himself mentally. We tried to walk by the brook, he insisted he would be okay to continue walking, but after the amount of hiking we had done and Liam's ataxia that slowed him down and made him cranky, we decided to call it a day. We didn't feel we missed anything as the brook parallels a group of houses. We retraced our steps and headed back for the car. 

On the way home, I asked Jon if he had been creeped out at the cemetery.

"No, not until the very end." I asked why at the very end.

"Well, I saw a headstone and was reading the dates on it. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something on the ground and pulled Liam back away from it. Just behind the headstone, where the body would have been, was a big depression - a kind of pit - in the ground. I was scared because Liam and I almost fell in. Into a big hole. Or on top of a coffin. We just missed it. We could have broken our legs and been stuck in a grave out in the middle of the woods..."