Wetlands Hike

On a whim, we met up with our 11-year-old neighbor on Sunday afternoon at the center green. A scattering of girl scouts wandered around with compasses to finish up their badge day activities, but otherwise, camp was quiet. Blustery fall in the Adirondacks. It was a year ago this month that George Painter brought Toby and me out to interview, and wooed us with the rusty golden tapestry draped over the hills surrounding camp.

After a few turns on the bike, Eliot grew bored and Fenway needed to run. So, with Eliot's big buddy in the lead, we ducked into the woods. A trail between the staff row and the horse's paddock leads into a damp, muddy wedtland made up of the beaver-dammed waters of Butternut Brook. Soon after the trail begins, it narrows and becomes navigable only by a track of boards built up above the swamp. Through the cattails and marsh grasses we clomped.

Behind me and ahead of Toby, Eliot hopped easily up on the thin boards and began to hike, his walking stick tapping along beside him. Never mind the slippery footprints, the angles and occasional yawning gaps between 2x6's. He refused a hand and walked with nearly as much confidence as any of us, barring the four-footed Fenway. On one particularly nerve-wracking bridge over a leg of the creek, Eliot shooed away my offer to help. There, suspended on a few open boards several feet above murky water, my son simply grabbed hold of a drooping rope handrail and sauntered right across. He never even hesitated. Never, like his mama, looked down at that water too far below and felt his knees go wobbly.

Past the thick, wet brush which probably houses any number of mallards, turtles, frogs, and insects, our little hiking party tromped. We made our way to a plywood platform jutting out into the center of a small pond. On all sides, beavers have built up thin ridges of mud and sticks to contain the water. Eliot scooted down on his tummy and lay with his stick swishing in the water, the ripples catching and reflecting flashes of bright autumn sunlight. A lone dragonfly hovered near for a moment before dipping and rising again, off into the tall grass.