"O, sacrament of summer days...." Emily Dickenson wrote that and it describes my yesterday's adventures perfectly. I decided, more or less at the last minute, to go on the Pine Barrens hike. Met at Elaine's restaurant at 9:00 to find Faye and Jay, two stalwarts of the Outdoor Club. Nobody else showed up, so we drove in Jay's car to the starting point.
As it was, that was deep into the woods and, hoo boy, we went a fer piece after. Trekked eight miles under a peerless blue sky with plenty of sun. A bit too much warmth came along with it, of course, but gentle breezes flowed around us often enough.
We walked about eight miles at a good clip, I with my backpack on. Stopped for a snack at a beautiful place Jay knew about: A lake about two miles in, absolutely deserted, which used to be the site of a large summer house. Property was sold to the Nature Conservatory, which tore down the house (state said it was a hazard), so nothing's left but Nature's secrets.
Lots of frogs and toads crossed our path, plus an attractive snake and some little chipmunks. We saw just the glimpse of what Jay thought was a fox streaking across an area ahead and, of course, there were plenty of damned deer flies and other creatures. J. and F. had an extra hat netting, though (I'm going to buy one)and I wore that over my head. We must have looked like berserk bee keepers--if anybody had been around to see us, but the place was pretty well deserted.
These hikes are always wonderfully enjoyable, especially when they're over. The terrain here was very strenuous: sand roads much of the time, some up and down repeated hills, plus a bunch of places where we were above-ankle deep in water, then the same in thick red mud. It was much more challenging than last week's nine-miler in Princeton, but great exercise.
As we drove out of the woods, my cell rang. It was grandson J., saying he and the gang were planning to go crabbin' down by me--did I want to go? Darn right! Got home, jumped in the shower (hey, talk about sacraments--that would qualify), dressed, gobbled a salad, and awaited their arrival.
This time, it was just J. and T., as the other two boys were with N.'s folks. They came, we all piled in the van, and we went crabbin'. (Don't gimme that prissy "crabbing." You have to say "crabbin'," otherwise you won't catch anything.)
And they did catch! They let the cages down and N. caught two "legal" crabs, little J. one! Enormous excitement ensued and we all marveled at the mystery of the sea giving up its bounty for us to eat. The bay was wild--full of waves and whitecaps smashing against the bulkhead and we all got soaked, but so what? Big J. put a fishing pole out in another area; didn't catch anything, but was philosophical about it as fisherpeople have to be. Little T. had a ball running back and forth, climbing on things, and expressing delight in using his sturdy little body.
We stayed until after 7:00, then Joel called to order pizza and wings from Brother's. We picked that up, zipped it home, and gobbled it down happily. J., N., J., and T. left soon after, and I contentedly drank my evening wine, then went to bed, knowing it had been a wonderful, magical sacrament of a day.