After a brief stop for a chocolate glazed doughnut at Boston's finest doughnut establishment, we set out on our Saturday Fun-Day trip to the Rocky Narrows, a nature reserve near Wellesley run by the Trustees of Reservations. On the way to the Narrows we listened to "This American Life" and learned all about a horrible, vitriolic judge who runs a "Drug Court" in Georgia. It reminded both of us that there are many flaws with the law in America -- one of the two institutions along with science that we tend to deify all too often. Eventually, we made it to the Narrows.
The Narrows are comprised of two parts split by the Charles River and some old railroad tracks. We started at the south of the reservation and heard some strange noises near a bog, so we decided to investigate. After listening for awhile, we determined that the noise was coming from frogs in the bog. Allie (Mumpus) decided to be team leader and sped off into the forest towards the bog. Alas, a branch fairy tried to poke out her eye and alerted the frogs, which disappeared into the bog. Saddened but not defeated, we continued on.
We crossed over the railroad tracks--which were not quite as foreboding as JR (Grumpus) had hoped for-- and continued up the steep trail to a fantastic rocky overlook with a beautiful view of the Charles River. We also saw some face-shaped crop circles in the dirt--
We met some dogs, and continued on.
Enthused by the thought of becoming adventure writers, Grumpus became obsessed with making our trip in the woods more adventurous. Allie insisted that getting lost in the woods was a bad adventure, and so we tried to stick to the path. This was harder to do than usual since the woods have been torn apart by the blizzards this winter, and there are broken and bent trees and branch-debris everywhere.
We found a cool (but spooky) old dead tree, that reminded me of the wise old talking tree in Disney's Pocahontas (I like to imagine Indians living in these woods, even though it's been hundreds of years). We also discovered the foundations of an old stone wall, of which there are many, and lifted up some of the old stones hoping to find treasure. Sadly, there was none to be had.
The highlight of our trip was definitely the red-tailed squirrel encounter. JR, normally a squirrel-whisperer (he has had several face-to-face and heart-to-heart connections with squirrels on past walks), was unable to commune with this squirrel, who we heard before we saw. The squirrel was emanating some sort of chirping noise that we thought was a bird--- until this little guy pops up on a log and confronts us, tail pumping up and down. It was either protecting its young or performing some sort of mating call-- we couldn't tell.
After another hour of walking around we arrived at a canoe landing for the first of two lowlights. We were not alone at the landing; a group of 5 middle aged people had arrived in canoes and were making a fire to cook their lunch. Their team leader had a vest with a very fancy badge and one of the other men was wearing a stetson hat with one of those silly ear warmers under it. They were was too serious and not too friendly. Their team leader said that they were on a 8 mile trip with a tone that suggested he generally led trips through the arctic for months at a time, hence the badge. After a brief view of the landing, we returned to the trail, found a stump to sit on, and ate our lunch.
After lunch and a few more scenic trips through the woods, we left the woods and headed for home. On our way home JR spotted an ice cream parlor called White Mountain Creamery in Wellesley, so we pulled off and had two scoops. They were delicious, and Allie decided to take a picture of the flavors for this adventure blog. Then things got weird. A guy emerged from the backroom and yelled at Allie, telling her that she was not allowed to take a picture of the flavors. Like we were inside an ancient building, he demanded that we erase the picture and show him the proof. It was very surprising, and Allie decided that he was a witch because her picture was blank. I, however, think that she erased the correct photo and inadvertently took a picture of the ceiling, hence the blank picture. I don't think he was a witch, but rather a fascist socialist terrorist. You be the judge.
