I decided to check out a few brooks today, but got a late start because of an afternoon appointment which was cancelled half an hour before, meaning I had cooled my heels for nothing! Ah, well.
But now I have to get back! No way in hell am I going to get back the way I came in the gathering darkness - it was difficult enough with sunlight! So I head for the perimeter, hoping to walk along the edge of the forest. Slog through some marsh, encounter killer brambles, make it to the edge - or nearly the edge. A border of about ten feet is completely filled with thorny, whip-like branches, and finished off at the far side by a chain link fence, which, even if I could reach it, would be quite unwise to scale. At this point, I felt like crying, so, figuring no-one was around, I did. I had to turn around, retrace some of my steps, and keep walking, always deviating to the path of least resistance. I couldn't get too far away from the lights of Route 1, though, because it had become - surprise - dark. Really dark. The lights became an eerie haze when filtered through the skeletal branches of the trees.
Finally I saw an unfenced area, and some park tables, and remembered that a strip of the land was an official park. I was able to get through and walk behind the Harley Davidson and STP buildings, but was cut off by fencing again when I tried to take a shortcut to Franklin's Corner, so I had to head out to Route 1, which conveniently turned out to have sidewalks!
I reached Franklin's Corner, walked halfway down to the access to a bridge leading across Stonicker Brook to the cul-de-sac where I had parked. Walking (although at this point, thank God, along a paved pathway) through the forest alone at night truly creeped me out, but I made it to the bridge, climbed over and across, and completed the last block to my car. I was truly relieved.
At one point in the woods, I wondered if I would have to stay all night. The brambles seemed to develop a malevolent intelligence and independent movement, wrapping themselves around me at times so that I couldn't move. To me they became an almost sentient adversary, one I despised and wished to obliterate with every atom of my being. I took satisfaction in tearing a particularly nasty whippet of thorns in half after it got me twice in the same tender area of my thumb, causing really messy bleeding. "Take that!" I hissed irrationally as I broke the branch.
I have to say that if I had become really desperate, I suppose I would have doubled back to Toyota, and if they were still open, start yelling for help. But I can be quite stubborn, and besides, it would have meant admitting to a bunch of people in person that I was an idiot. I know I was an idiot to stay so long in the woods, and you know I was an idiot, too, but that's different from a bunch of strangers. Besides, deep down I always feel that if I really have to, I'll be able to manage whatever I really have to. (That's how I fell backwards down my driveway side outdoor stairs at 1am and landed on a rose bush with a drop leaf desk on top of me. But that's another story, and I did end up getting that sucker inside. I'm looking at it now, with no hard feelings.)
So, happy ending, but I'm not hiking there again any time soon. Or any sooner than next weekend, anyhow, probably. And I hope next time I remember my pruning shears. Everytime I walk there, I curse and promise myself I will bring them next time around. Anyhow, looking at my thorn punctures (which are swelling up slightly now; quite intriguing) I have to think of my mother, who used to say, when I was moved to misery by some animal's suffering: "Nature, red in tooth and claw . . .", a reminder not to romanticize nature. Preserve nature, love nature, and drink in all you can of it, but don't trivialize it, and don't underestimate its power to surprise both positively and negatively.
The second brook I checked out is the brook behind Stonicker Drive? Avenue? Something or other? in Lawrenceville. The sun was beginning its downward transit as I headed into the brambly mess, but I was nothing daunted. Wish I had been! The brambles were particularly vicious and practically impenetrable, but I kept soldiering on to my destination. Several times I nearly gave up, but idiot that I was, I kept on going. I even had to ford a small stream, but not before travelling as far up it as practical, hoping to find a significantly narrower part to get across. Lots of brambles sticks there and back. Got across the stream, finally, finally reach my destination as dusk falls, bleeding rather lustily from a couple of bramble hits that got me in juicy areas.
But now I have to get back! No way in hell am I going to get back the way I came in the gathering darkness - it was difficult enough with sunlight! So I head for the perimeter, hoping to walk along the edge of the forest. Slog through some marsh, encounter killer brambles, make it to the edge - or nearly the edge. A border of about ten feet is completely filled with thorny, whip-like branches, and finished off at the far side by a chain link fence, which, even if I could reach it, would be quite unwise to scale. At this point, I felt like crying, so, figuring no-one was around, I did. I had to turn around, retrace some of my steps, and keep walking, always deviating to the path of least resistance. I couldn't get too far away from the lights of Route 1, though, because it had become - surprise - dark. Really dark. The lights became an eerie haze when filtered through the skeletal branches of the trees.
Finally I saw an unfenced area, and some park tables, and remembered that a strip of the land was an official park. I was able to get through and walk behind the Harley Davidson and STP buildings, but was cut off by fencing again when I tried to take a shortcut to Franklin's Corner, so I had to head out to Route 1, which conveniently turned out to have sidewalks!
I reached Franklin's Corner, walked halfway down to the access to a bridge leading across Stonicker Brook to the cul-de-sac where I had parked. Walking (although at this point, thank God, along a paved pathway) through the forest alone at night truly creeped me out, but I made it to the bridge, climbed over and across, and completed the last block to my car. I was truly relieved.
At one point in the woods, I wondered if I would have to stay all night. The brambles seemed to develop a malevolent intelligence and independent movement, wrapping themselves around me at times so that I couldn't move. To me they became an almost sentient adversary, one I despised and wished to obliterate with every atom of my being. I took satisfaction in tearing a particularly nasty whippet of thorns in half after it got me twice in the same tender area of my thumb, causing really messy bleeding. "Take that!" I hissed irrationally as I broke the branch.
 |
Part of my left leg, showing thorn punctures, partially healed at this point. It looked much more dramatic when fresh! There are a bunch more on the calf, and of course, on my right leg, too, and my right hand is a mess. I was wearing a sturdy pair of jeans, for all the good it did me! |
So, happy ending, but I'm not hiking there again any time soon. Or any sooner than next weekend, anyhow, probably. And I hope next time I remember my pruning shears. Everytime I walk there, I curse and promise myself I will bring them next time around. Anyhow, looking at my thorn punctures (which are swelling up slightly now; quite intriguing) I have to think of my mother, who used to say, when I was moved to misery by some animal's suffering: "Nature, red in tooth and claw . . .", a reminder not to romanticize nature. Preserve nature, love nature, and drink in all you can of it, but don't trivialize it, and don't underestimate its power to surprise both positively and negatively.
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