Indian Summer

Summit of Silver Lake Mountain

...The killing frost for our short growing season arrived overnight on September 18. Thus began the vigil for Indian Summer. The origin of the phrase is lost to antiquity. It may be a prejudicial slur describing a deceptive or false summer. Perhaps it was inspired by ships that frequented New England harbors centuries ago. Some ships had hulls marked with "I.S.", denoting a higher than normal waterline (and heavier cargo) that was safe to carry for Indian Ocean summertime travel.

High pressure region rolls down from Canada and stalls Down East.

Its origin may be unfathomable but the definition of Indian Summer is clear. A killing frost wipes out the less-hardy plants and annihilates many noisome bugs. Then wood stoves are fired up, woodpiles are warily eyed as eternally inadequate, and - this is the important part - summer clothes are put up for the season. 

That's the signal for The Universe to conjure up a high pressure region that dips down from Canada and stalls off the east coast. This brings unseasonably warm and dry weather...and those shorts and t-shirts we just put up. And it resurrects some bugs, too. 

  

 

Woodman's Lee gets a mailbox.

Little is wasted here, so we exploited the glorious weather for outdoor work and recreation. I bought a big rural mailbox, but, after studying mailbox posts in the area, I designed and built my own post. The entire setup, including paint, mailbox, post and concrete, cost slightly more than just the prefabricated 'Mc- mailbox' style post at Lowe's.

 

One of the windows will be converted to a door.

Our next job, one that isn't complete, was installing an exterior door. We only had one egress door, which isn't safe, so we decided to convert a window to a doorway, adding more glazing in the process. This was a big job. After some demolition I was able to determine the rough opening and I placed the door order on Primary Day. Two weeks later it was ready for pickup and I began the tedious (at least, for me) framing work.

After window removal.

Once the rough framing was built, the door was temporarily installed. I needed to see that before figuring out how to construct the steps. After calculating the rise and run, I could place the location for a landing. Then I built a frame, placed it on the ground, marked the outline, dug out a space for the frame and used it for the concrete.  

A sturdy concrete pad with native stones.

Our local granite works offered all the scrap I wanted for free, so I gathered up some small (but heavy) slabs to embed in the concrete pad. A plain pad isinappropriate for  Woodman's Lee. Suzy nixed the granite idea, suggesting we simply harvest and embed some of the innumerable rocks on the property. That was a much better approach. We laid the stones into a relatively flat pattern then embedded them in concrete. The result looks fittingly rustic.

Door, steps and landing installed. Exterior and interior trim remains.

Framing a door involves seemingly endless iterations of squaring and plumbing. A six-foot level is essential for this job. Once everything was exactly level, square and co-planar I added reinforcing framing to strengthen it beyond what was necessary. Doors get a lot of abuse and I wanted this one to be able to take it. What a luxury to be able to work unhurried and uninterrupted by the need to stop, clean up, and commute to a job every day. 

I went to a local sawmill to get some true 2x4s, and that was an experience. The place was incredible, dozens of logs and a big saw in an open shed, lumber stacked neatly everywhere. I could spend an entire morning exploring the grounds. After we loaded up the lumber in the truck, I realized this must be a cash-only business - and I was short nine dollars. "No problem, just bring it by next time you're down here." Such is the level of trust in rural America.

Only real woodswomen split logs by hand.

Suzy is getting proficient with the splitting axe. She splits wood daily, adding to our growing stacks of cut and split firewood.

Forestry instructor Tom Bartiss teaches us how to safely fell a tree.

But it's not all work around here. Paul Smith's College is at the northern end of the park, they have many programs suited to this area - such as forestry. They had a fall homesteading festival, including a demonstration on how to safely cut down a tree. I was certain that, with all my tree-cutting experience, I wouldn't learn anything new. Actually, I knew all about how to do it...improperly and unsafely. This guy was an expert - he planted a flag as a target and the tree came down right next to it. It was a fine day on the campus, the weather couldn't have been nicer. 

The state of the wood-felling art is to make a 90 degree shallow notch at the hinge point and two plunging cuts in the middle of the tree, leaving a small section to saw through when you're ready to fell the tree. Felling wedges in the saw kerf provide just enough guidance to drop the tree on target. 

35,000 lbs of fire apparatus here.

We also attended a garlic planting seminar at Ward Lumber, as Suzy is planning to plant a big garlic (and shallot) bed. From there I went up to the firehouse for our weekly meeting, gaining more seat time by driving the LaFrance truck around Upper Jay. We went up Trumbull's Corners Road, a hilly and twisty road, where the fully loaded truck had to be floored to maintain 25 mph. I switched on the emergency lights when we passed the barn where we keep the horses just to get Donna and Wayne's attention. Alex, in the right seat, suggested we blast the air horn, too (I didn't).

View on the Catamount trail

We hiked Harrison Hill nearby, it's privately owned but the owner and the caretaker encouraged us to hike it. We've lived here awhile but I'm still surprised by the graciousness of our neighbors. There wasn't a view from up there, but after the leaves fall we ought to have a panoramic view of the Sentinel Range. We hiked Catamount Mountain, getting within a few tenths of a mile of the summit...then losing the unmarked trail. Going up would be no problem, as the summit is an obvious landmark. Returning would  be the challenge, as we'd somehow have to intercept the trail. This would have been a obvious place for a GPS waypoint, and if we were carrying a backup I may have done just that. But relying on only one GPS unit for critical navigation is irresponsibly dangerous.

Learning how to identify trees from naturalist Mike Wojtech 

We also attended a two-day seminar on tree identification at The Grange in Whallonsburgh. We started with a classroom session where a conservation biologist instructed us on tree bark structure and ecology. The next day a group of us hit one of the many Champlain Area Trails and began identifying trees. We did that for about 4 hours. Suzy understands the process better than I, she seems to have an instinct for identifying plants and animals. But even I can now distinguish an aspen from a birch (sounds easy, it isn't).

A bumpy ride for starting an IV, but three tries are permitted.

I'm beginning the EMT training this week and I went on a couple of ambulance calls to get somewhat up to speed. Our district is vast, so I only respond to the Jay or Upper Jay calls. My first EMS call was a fatality, and one of the guys remarked that it was hell of a way to start. Well, my first fire call involved two fatalities, so the trend is improving. 

My most recent call was around midnight Saturday. I did my best to assist two EMTs attempting to stabilize a semi-conscious patient having seizures while we transported him to a hospital in Plattsburgh. We got him there alive and he appeared to be stable when our four-person team was released an hour later. It was 3 am when I drove home on an empty highway and up our moonlit driveway. Suzy had a cozy fire going in the wood stove and the invisible beagle heaved a sigh amongst the depths of the couch. Our silent and peaceful cabin in the woods felt infinitely distant from the stress and chaos of a Priority 1 EMS call.