TCC for 8/14/10:
Last night's sunset (first three photos) and this morning's sunrise (last two photos):
Nothing too exciting happened yesterday, and not too much has been happening lately so perhaps the Caretaker should share a recent story from the past, how about the second to last time the Caretaker went for a run and encountered some white guys playing "Indians". It was the morning of his birthday some two weeks or so ago, well, going on three weeks now, anyway, the Caretaker was giving himself two birthday presents one was to go for a run on the East shore over at Shelving Rock, the other was to see the first performance of MacBeth by the Adirondack Shakespeare company up in Schroon Lake Village. The MacBeth experience is a story in itself (he was bought to tears twice and nearly peed his pants but that tale will have to wait for another time).
So, the birthday morning run, the Caretaker used to run every other day but due to injury he has to limit his running to once a week or once every two weeks, having not run for a while the Caretaker decided to ignore his injury and just run as long as he pleased. When he goes for a run over at Shelving Rock he takes the tin boat and pulls it up on to the mainland shore in Log Bay on the West side of Log Bay Island. Usually he just runs the carriage trail that follows the shore, it is a very beautiful run affording wonderful views of the Lake all along the way, however, sometimes he will take the Carriage trail up the mountain to Shelving Falls, just past the falls on both sides are two very pleasant bits of trail to travel down. For his birthday the Caretaker ran up the falls, carried on past the falls for a while then turned around and came back to the falls where he than scrambled across to the other side, continued on down to the dirt road, made a right and went up to the trail head for climbing Shelving Rock. Usually he just continues on down the road past the trail head but this time he decided to run for a bit on the trail so he made a left to do so. Coming around the corner he sees two white guys, as white as white guys can be, dressed as Indians wearing leather loin cloths, one guy was on the ground either rolling up or rolling out a leather tent of sorts, he had a mohawk. The other guy was standing around, his head was shaved except for a small section at the back of his head that was of some length, the hair pulled back in a pony tail. One of the white guys playing Indian looked to be about 18 years old, maybe early 20's, the other guy looked to be in his early 30's.
So the Caretaker comes around the corner, and takes all this in as he's running by.
One of the "Indians" said a typical modern day white man greeting, the Caretaker responded in kind without stopping, he didn't quicken his pace but he certainly didn't slacken it either. The Caretaker continued on with his run, at the next trail intersection the Caretaker made a right towards Dacy Clearing instead of a left to go up Shelving Rock, it had been quite a while since he'd been up this stretch of trail and felt like taking it in for a while before turning around to come back. He didn't really know what to make of the two white guys playing "Indians". Were they part of a Revolutionary War reenactment that was perhaps going on at either Fort William Henry or Fort Ticonderoga and they decided to go "native" and camp out? Or, were they a couple of whack-jobs who suffered from some sort of nostalgia of the past that they knew of only from what they read? On the third hand, were they just whack-jobs who were up to no goo? For example, where they had camped or intended to camp was not a place where camping was allowed which would hopefully be the least of their mean intents. Or perhaps they had planned to run around in the woods striking fear in the woodland tourists? The Caretaker's route plan was to run up to the creek that crosses the trail then turn around and come back, he thought about changing his plans and going on up to the first trail that cuts over to the road but then decided that it was further than he wanted to run and secondly, running past these two "Indians" really shouldn't be a problem.
Coming down the trail to where the "Indians" are the Caretaker saw that they both had hatchets, one of them had just thrown it at a large pine tree, apparently they were practicing their hatchet throwing skills. The pine tree was living and the Caretaker considered telling them that they really should not throw hatchets at a living pine tree, they should find a dead tree instead. However, considering that they had hatchets and the Caretaker did not he decided he would keep quiet on the subject, even though when the "Indian" threw his hatchet it merely bounced off the tree. They were obviously not very good at hatchet throwing. Anyway, the Caretaker keeps on keep'n on and maintains his pace but makes a point to give the hatchet throwing "Indians" plenty of space, he didn't need a hatchet in his head and a poorly thrown one at that. Pass the "Indians", then the target tree, the young "Indian" calls out to the Caretaker:
Uh oh, here we go. Defense? Offense? Fight or flight?"
"... Do you know how far it is to the lake."
How far is it to the lake? You guys are idiots. You don't know where the lake is from here? Total, idiots.
Granted, if anyone else had asked the Caretaker where the lake was from this location he wouldn't think anything of it and share the location without any judgment, but when looking at two white guys in loin cloths pretending to be Indians, throwing hatchets at live trees, who don't know their surroundings--they're idiots, through and through.
The Caretaker stops and turns around in place, "make a right on to the road and follow it down to the end and you will reach the lake."
"So, what, about two miles?"
"Probably not that far, a little ways down, it doesn't take long to get there via the road."
The older indian, "see, I told you."
"The other way you can go is to make a left at the orange trail barrier, follow the trail to Shelving Falls, go across the falls and then take the trail down to the Lake."
"No problem." With that the Caretaker turned and started off on his run again, he didn't hesitate to put the first tree there was between himself and the hatchet wielding idiots. The Caretaker still wasn't sure what to make of these two, he thought that perhaps he should report them to the park service. When the Caretaker thinks you and what you are doing is odd, you've really got problems, serious problems. In the end he let the whole thing rest and continued on with his run--enjoying it very much.
Before there was the blog the Caretaker sent out posts via e-mail, the following is from the Caretaker's second winter on the Island:
No report for today's Island Ice Report for 4/14/07, just these photos:
P.S. Special thanks to G.G. for providing ready access to the internet until the phone service is returned to the Island.
Introducing Blake : The feral cat
3 years ago