Full Court Press

Just back in, from a long shift in the coal mines...



(Actually, just after a quasi-successful attempt at making those little hand/foot print things...)



After about three angelic weeks of adorably happy gurgly infant bliss, the little one has done gone colicky on us. The newborn has been delivering day-long, incomprehensible, incorrigible assaults on our parenting skills, patience and ear drums...It's supposed to be a temporary phase, and we'll get through it...I just hope the ringing in my ears will be temporary, too...



I know there's a happy baby in there, somewhere...

This new development as well as my own pre-existing coal mines that need tending to have kept me pressed for time, and the blogging keyboard growing cold from neglect. However, the camera has remained within reach as always and the shutter button continues to click on whenever time and/or opportunity presents itself...











While things seem nothing like the old get up and go pre honey munchkin days, Kell and I are still squeezing in outdoor time whenever possible. However, some of our favorite recreations like bicycling will have to be put on hold until mid to late summer at the earliest. More selfishly, my trusty open-topped Jeep will also be seeing less mileage this summer...(except for any quick escapes I can manage...)

...(ditto on the motorcycle...)

......(um....and the kayak...)

...........(and the fishing pole...)

But we do have the battle-stroller for paved excursions, and the ultra handy baby pouch for off road exploration. Even more luckily, even in the depths of the baby's most stringent colic episodes, the little girl always seems to be a relatively eager hiking and travel partner, and will stop crying whenever we're on the move...

It's when we stop moving that she gets fidgety.



So, we can't stop moving...

In The Absence Of Light

Monday night being the summer-like treat that it was, I skipped out for a little night drive. With the moon just a sliver in the sky, it was really dark on the poorly lit farm roads in South Hadley down by the river.



I parked on what I thought would be a deserted road and took out the tripod setup. If you have the camera shutter open long enough, you can turn this...



...into this...



I think it's the dream-like, almost eerie cast that low light pictures take on that I like. And the peacefulness of being out at night...For a short while it was just me, the vehicle, the sliver moon and the stars in the dark sky...



Every few minutes a car would come down the main road, and invariably turn right down the narrow street I was on. They would all turn on the high beams on for a second as they whipped by, briefly illuminating the strange sight of someone taking pictures in the pitch blackness...



Only one person actually stopped, and apparently thinking I was broken down, asked if I needed help. I told him thanks, just taking pictures. I couldn't see his face but I could see him nod, and he rolled off without saying anything else...

A few more pictures, and I was ready to pack up and go...



I don't know if it was that last guy, but one of those passerbyes apparently took a keen interest in what I was doing, and before I was a quarter mile away, I saw a cruiser whip by, quickly u-turn behind me, and sure enough...blue light special. Again.



They said they had a report of someone taking pictures in the dark, and while the police didn't run my name or plates or anything, they did think it was a suspicious enough call to pull me over and ask what I was doing. I explained my hobby/near-obsession, and even volunteered to show him the pics. The officer thought they were cool, and let me go about my business without further ado. I almost mentioned that this makes the third or fourth time the police have taken an interest in what I was doing, but thought better of it. It's probably best to keep police encounters short and sweet...

Please Come To Boston For The Springtime

While not a big fan of the song, I do appreciate the sentiment. We shuttled out to the state capital Saturday to meet my sister and company for some springtime in the city...











Kickball, (or soccer baseball as we called it in our neighborhood), why is this not a more popular sport..?



Beech trees are famous for their smooth bark, ideal for carving names and loves. This one has seen many.



In the corner of the common by the statehouse, the sunbathers were transplanted by protesters and rallyers with various causes, from Tibetan freedom to help for children of war-ravaged areas of Africa.





What looked like a martial arts exhibit was actually a Brazilian art form called Chuvisco, which combines dancing with martial arts moves. It looks like fighting, but no contact is made.



On towards Quincy Market and the waterfront, we stopped for a look at a street dancing troop that was wowing the crowds...



Then a quick walk among giants of the past...



...to the famed Quincy Market/Fanueil Hall area.



The smells of delicious foods of every kind permeate the air inside and outside the venerable old building.





Outside, everywhere, people dining...



...people spectating....



...people playing music...



...people performing.



We crossed the long park where the 15 Billion dollar Big Dig project replaced the elevated highway that used to cut straight through the middle of the city...



And headed to the relatively more peaceful waterfront, where we managed to catch the last rays of sun being chased by the shadows into the harbor.



It was a long day and with the sunset, Bloggerette began to sound the alarm; time to begin making our way back...



Boston is great for it's preservation of historic 18th century buildings and history, most now immersed in a forest of 20th century skyscrapers.



In 1770, right in front of the old statehouse, occurred the slaying of 5 rioting Bostonians by surrounded and panicky British soldiers; an event publicized as the 'Boston Massacre' by rabble rouser Sam Adams and the Sons of Liberty, to stoke anti-British sentiment...

Just over six years later, the Declaration of Independence was jubilantly proclaimed from that very balcony...



Back on the common, the rallyers were still rallying into the evening.



There's nothing like an occasional visit to a huge city, they're man-made wonders.



...and I always come back with a fresh perspective on life in our relatively simpler, peaceful valley...



Boston is beautiful, especially in the Springtime.

The Downhill Run

My buddy Rich and his brood joined us for an outing last weekend, and I suggested we combine the exercise with some exploration of the Mt. Tom/ Mountain Park area. I was curious to see what remains of the old Mt. Tom ski slope/water park/alpine slide complex that was there and so popular years ago. We parked by the now renovating Mountain Park entrance, and headed up the old road leading to the fabled ski area.



Back in the early 90's some friends from work had convinced me that skiing was a blast, and I should give it a try. Being a decent skateboarder but a horrendous ice/roller skater, I wasn't sure if I possessed the skill set needed to master the snowy slopes, but was talked into finding out. So I dutifully pored over some classifieds, found some old used ski equipment from the previous decade, and joined them for an evening, mid-week trip to the famous Mt. Tom Ski area. It was indeed a blast. So what if the little kids on the bunny slope were skiing circles around me. It was a beautifully crisp winter night, and the light-flooded slopes were crowded with people laughing and talking and swooshing here and there, or being lifted off to the tops of the trickier mountain slopes. It was great. It was close by, it was tons of fun, it was a mid-week break from reality...

And now it's gone.

Mostly.

Actually, I was surprised there is anything left of the old ski area at all. I was prepared to see a plowed over field with low brush growing out of it. But as me, Rich, our significant others and offspring climbed the old road that loops and rounds the hill called Little Tom, those early ski memories were suddenly re-triggered with the sight of the old ski lodge emerging around the corner. Still standing.



Even more, the old water park structures are also still there.



The crumbling remains of the starting platforms for the slides are still somewhat standing. They lead to the tall cement pylons that used to support the slides, and run paths through the growing brush down to the cracking terminal pools.







Down near the lodge is a big wave pool, which is still in good condition.



We looked but couldn't find the remains of the Alpine slide section. I believe it was set right into the ground, so it's probably hidden by shrubs and thickets already...

It was cool to see the ruins of such a big project, such a big, fun, local attraction. Like nearby Mountain Park, all gone to waste.



Such a shame.

Music aficionado Leonard of the blog Mt. Tom Billy Goat has posted some wonderful brochures he found of Mt. Tom Ski's hey day, back in the late sixties and seventies. I took a couple pictures from some of the brochures for a little comparison of the then and now...















Ah yes. Those were the days...

The slopes are now frequented only by hikers, explorers, kids and other outdoor enthusiasts (or trespassers as the case may be) who regularly 'explore' the site.





The main lodge looks to be pretty well closed up and appears to be going through the beginnings of some kind of renovation, though they have a long way to go. We also noticed that the lodge is armed with an active security alarm system. However, many of the other surrounding structures appear to be regularly compromised.







The whole complex is hopefully better monitored now, since one of the structures had been burned down by vandals last month. (also reported on by the Billy Goat)...



We had one more thing to check out before we headed back: the nearby quarry. The quarry was big news about 10 years ago when the owners were seeking to expand the 7 acre operation significantly. That sparked massive opposition in Holyoke and a public "I Don't Dig It" campaign that eventually prevailed, keeping the quarry to it's present size. Not that it's present size is anything to scoff at...



It's massive, and deep as a canyon.



It was scary to be near the edge. But maybe I'm just getting old...



We'd seen enough to absorb for one day. With plans to check it out again in the near future before it is all wiped out like Mountain Park, it was time for Rich and I to round up the women-folk and chilren', and make our ways back home....