Wooster in the Fall -- Beautiful!!

Fall is perhaps my favorite season. And not because of pumpkin-spiced lattes (although I have never tried one), and not even because of Halloween (I never fully understood the hype about it). Autumn is my favorite season because of its sheer beauty. When I lived in Colorado, I would take several photos a day, of the golden trees, the flower gardens, and such. Here in Wooster, it is no different. Because I am closer to the east coast and because Wooster has so many old deciduous trees, the fall foliage is truly stunning. I'll let the pictures speak for themselves:

The morning light shines on Beall Avenue.

Through the Kauke Arch.

The last one is the view from the top of the tree: the roof of McGaw chapel is visible. I love climbing trees.

A field trip!

On Tuesday, I went on a field trip to Brown's Bog, for my First Year Seminar Class. Normally you wouldn't expect a bog to be exciting, but this trip was pretty interesting, once we actually went into the bog.

I say it this way because after we arrived there, my class stood for roughly an hour, listening to our professor blabber about the history of the bog, and having a half-hearted discussion about a chapter in a book that is not remotely related to the location. I feel like this time could have been better spent exploring the bog, taking photos, and talking to friends in the natural setting.

Don't get me wrong, the bog was unexpectedly beautiful. Fields of red poison sumac, which is dangerous to touch, vines of poison ivy scaling the trees, and little cottonballs that are soft to the touch. There were even carnivorous plants: the pitcher plants that were small yet intriguing. This was the first time I saw carnivorous plants in the wild.

The pitcher plants can be seen a little above the center of the image. They are filled with a sweet enzyme-rich fluid that breaks down nutrients from flies and bugs.

During our trip to Brown's Bog, I made several interesting discoveries. First of all, the bog was not so swampy as I had anticipated: there was more vegetation and less desolation than what I had come to expect from the swamp detailed in the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

Second of all, there was an interesting acoustic effect at the center of the bog: an echo. Normally, I wouldn't expect an echo in a marshy environment, because I would anticipate the water, soft moss, and bushes to absorb most sound reflections. However, there was a distinct (albeit short) echo, most likely caused by the bowl shape of the area (sound reflected off the elevated ground to all sides of us).

Third of all, among the violent red sumac plants, there were tiny cotton ball plants! I took at least three, rubbing my thumb on them while the professor was enthusing about the bog. They were soft -- very soft. So soft they felt like fur, until a hard seed is torn from the core of the flower and touched my finger. Nonetheless, I felt like Lenny from Of Mice and Men, because I literally could not stop taking these white cotton balls and playing with them.

Journal of Place 5 -- a hike!

Hello all,

Sorry for not posting in a few days: I have been preoccupied with an exciting hike on Saturday, and moving back to Wooster on Sunday.

Now, about this hike: it is a 5.6 mile (round-trip) excursion to Lake Twenty Two. Yes, it has a number for a name! This was part of the allure of this specific hike; after enough hikes, generic names like "Eagle Lake" and "Lake Serenity" become less exciting. The name "Twenty Two," on the other hand, is both surprising and mysterious. Nobody knows exactly how this lake came to be called thus, but the prevailing theory was that it was numbered 22 in some very old atlas, and somehow the number stuck.

We arrived at around 9:30 in the morning, and commenced our expedition. The trail starts through a dense, tropical forest, with moss, old growth, and vines dominating the treescape. Throughout the trail, there was a lot of water running downhill everywhere,a problem that we fixed by hopping around the tiny streams from rock to rock. To be honest, a lot of work has been invested by volunteers to maintain the trail: large portions are lined with logs, and in some places, logs are even used to form shallow stairs going uphill. Nonetheless, evasive maneuvers were necessary to avoid getting our feet wet.

After about 1 mile of trekking through the dark, green forest, we stumbled into a clearing packed with switchbacks. Because this spot was so steep, there were excellent views above the trees of the mountains surrounding us. At times, even the river far below was visible.

After the climb, the trail went back into the wet forest. After about 1 mile of avoiding streams and admiring craggy stumps, we arrived at our destination: Lake Twenty Two. The lake itself is not too remarkable: it is shallow, dirty, and filled with logs. However, the cliff at the bottom of which the lake sits is impressive, as well as the forest surrounding the lake. We ate here, using a boulder as a table, walked around the lake, and started heading back.

An interesting thing to note is that there were lots and lots of mushrooms, many of which are edible. October seems like a late time for mushrooms, but I guess where the weather is more temperate, the mushrooms wait for colder temperatures. We collected quite a few mushrooms (I do not know how they are called in English), and when we came back, we had enough for two meals. The abundancy of these mushrooms reminded me of Thoreau's call to simplicity: why bother with expensive, complicated food, when Nature's Bounty is so plentiful and delicious? I for one do not know.

              In Russian, these are called рыжики (ryuzhiki).

The urban environment -- Journal of Place 4

On Friday, we wanted a change. Instead of exploring parks and local recreation, we traveled to Seattle -- the burgeoning metropolis where my father works. Seattle is a pleasant city on the shore of Puget sound (in fact, many companies have taken advantage of Seattle's location by naming themselves "Sound Insurance" or "Sound Banking" etc.) The urban population is around three million, but the city doesn't feel crowded. The only place where I do feel claustrophobic sometimes is the Pike market, where local fishermen, artists, farmers, and musicians congregate to sell their wares. In fact, the first Starbucks is in the Pike's Market, and I have yet to drink coffee there (the lines are always ridiculously long).

I have been in Seattle before, so the experience was not entirely new. My family and I have explored the affluent and cultural area of Queen Anne hill and the Space Needle (Seattle's most famous landmark), and the coastal area and Pike Market. On Friday, we decided to walk around Downtown -- where all the shopping and working occurs. We encountered all sorts of people: the stereotypical valley girls going shopping, the well dressed businessmen and businesswomen, the homeless people sleeping on benches and ground, and more. It was interesting to just walk around and observe -- with no specific location or goal in mind.

At around one, we went to a seafood place to have lunch with my dad. It was tasty. The only remarkable thing I have to relate about this restaurant is that it has a dish called "Mussels in Purgatory," which intrigued me enough to order it.

After lunch, my dad went back to his office, and my mother and I walked alongside the shore and the piers. It was a clear day, and all the islands and peninsulas of Puget Sound were visible. After a good long walk, we went back to our car and drove home.

The space needle visible in the distance.

Journal of Place 3 -- the smaller park

On Thursday, my mother and I decided to explore another park that is within walking distance of our house -- Lynndale Park. The walk there was a little bit longer, and less scenic. It took about 50 minutes to get there with our dogs. Within the park, there are a few playgrounds, some baseball fields, and even a small amphitheater. There are also lots and lots of trails that weave through the park: some of which are asphalted, most of which are graveled. However, the overall area of the park is so small that we walked on every single trail within the span of an hour. It is a pretty park, especially now that the leaves are turning golden, but not interesting enough to merit a second visit anytime soon (at least by walking there. We might drive there with my brother and father one time just to show them what it is all about.) The structures built are interesting, and indubitably useful for kids and events, and even for my mom and I (we swung on the swings for a few minutes).  Ultimately, this walk was much more enjoyable than sitting at home would have been.

Here are a few pictures I took from our walk at Lynndale Park.

Journal of Place 2

On Monday, my mother, brother and I walked to the beach from our house, instead of driving. The route made a square around our house: We never walked the same sidewalk during the entire excursion. The hike was the same, although there were not so many people. On the pull-up bars, I managed to do five muscle-ups instead of four. I know, it's not exactly humble to be posting it, but honestly I got so tired of people calling me skinny and "malnourished" in college, that I wanted to post something to show them that I can do hard movements. Too bad the file is too big to post here.

Reading Thoreau, I've decided to replicate his experiment. During the summer, I will go to the cabin next to Eagle Lake and live there for ten days. Unlike Thoreau, I will bring my dog and hiking equipment (his experiment was all about economy, but unfortunately, I do not know how to make bread from just water and flour). I think it will be fun. I can spend the time reading, sleeping, swimming, exploring, exercising, and making food.

Today, I will go to a different park within Lynnwood with my mother, and we will explore the walking trails within. It should be interesting.

Journal of Place 1

Briefly, I am back in Washington. I am welcomed by the damp asphalt and chilly air. This is Fall Break: for one week I return home. The climate is not much different from Ohio: in both places it is getting colder already, and in both places it is raining more and more frequently. Here, however, I have the chance to hike in the rain. On Sunday, my family went on a short hike in a park here in Lynnwood. A 1.5 mile trail through Lund's Gulch, ending with a flooded tunnel that leads to a sandy beach. There is mud everywhere. It is a downhill hike, and because of its location in the middle of suburbia, it is crowded.

In the mountains, on a day-long hike, I would have minded the people. I like to appreciate nature in all of its glory: not tainted by human sound. However, this trail serves merely to stretch one's legs and offer a moment's respite from the stifling indoors. Halfway down, there are a few pull-up bars for anyone wishing to exercise their upper body as well as their legs.

The foliage is half green, half gold. Because this is a coastal area, the winters rarely bring snow and negative temperatures, so some trees do not even bother to hibernate. This contrast between the summer and fall colors is especially beautiful. The creek that the trail runs alongside of gurgles quietly, while the mud surrounding the trail waits in anticipation of an unwary sneaker.

As I said, at the bottom is a flooded tunnel under the railroad tracks. Unwilling to get our feet wet, we did a bit of trespassing and went over the tracks (first climbing through a hole in the fence), and then around the second fence on the far side of the railroad. The beach is pleasant: there are views of the Olympic Mountain range and Victoria Island. Although the water is salty, this is only Puget Sound: the Pacific Ocean lies on the other side of the wide peninsula that holds the Olympic National Forest.

I'll admit it: we did have an unfortunate encounter with a deranged lady.  As Thoreau wrote: "the mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation." Well, this woman was not so quiet in her madness. I won't go into too many details to preserve the mood of the reader, but the short version of the story is that she did not want people going north of her (first she claimed because her dog is agrressive, then switched to saying its her private property, then threatening to call her mother because she was watching us and said we were being rude, and finally, requesting our names so that the cops she was going to call knew who to arrest and deport, because we are obviously not Americans (she caught my parents' accent), even though we are citizens. Naturally). It ended with us just turning around to not ruin our moods, and laughing about it as we walked.

On the way back, we went through the tunnel for variety's sake, taking off our shoes and socks. We also stopped by the pull-up bars to see if any of us could still do a muscle-up, a movement that is the combination of a pull-up, and then pushing above the bar. I was surprised that I could do four in a row, despite not practicing for over half a year.

When we came back to the car, thee were no cops awaiting us (unfortunate, I know), and we returned home. It turned out that the park is within a forty-minute walk of our home, so my mom, brother and I walked there from our house the next day. But more on that tomorrow.