Poodling around Pohick Bay

 It was lovely to meet Emily and Margie down at Pohick Bay on Sunday morning for a kayaking trip. The sun was bright but thankfully a cool breeze kept the air moving and once we were on the water, it felt like heaven. We slowly followed the water's edge to the quiet zone where no motorized boats are allowed and we left the rest of the world behind us. Above, the sky was azure punctuated with fluffy white clouds that occasionally covered the sun and allowed us a few minutes of shade and lower temperatures.
We passed a few other paddlers but soon lost sight of them as they pulled ahead and we fell back, our paddles moving slower and slower.

There was an abundance of fluttering insects among the cardinal, pickerel and mallow plants, an industrious pollinating activity which was very hypnotic to watch. Butterflies crowded the blooms and dragonflies constantly swept by, sometimes landing on our boats, seemingly totally oblivious of our human presence.

The kudzu vines had totally taken over a few areas, monstrous blankets of dense green leaves draped over trees and bushes, creating an alien landscape.
Before long, Margie suggested we stop for slushies. Despite it not even being 11:00am Emily and I readily agreed and we slowed to a stop in some weeds. The slushies were perfect, cold crushed ice loaded with service berries or pineapple, or a mix of both, and a good shot of vodka. I had been thinking we would have only one each but Margie had brought us three each. They would all go eventually down the hatch without any complaint, but for now we made do with just one each. I recall how wonderfully relaxing this day was, and particularly how enjoyable, because for the first time ever, there was not a single mosquito. I couldn't believe it, every previous trip having been invaded by these horrendous pests. But today there was no biting or irritating buzzing midget bugs around our heads, only the butterflies, bees and dragonflies. It was pure bliss to lay back without constantly flapping my arms about or having to continuously reapply bug spray.

 I think we managed to paddle about another 50ft or so before we stopped again, Margie insisting that another slushie would be perfect right about now. Once again Emily and I concurred quite readily and before we knew it, another one followed immediately, because after all, in this heat, they would melt quickly and we wouldn't want that. So soon all were consumed.

We were stuck in weeds quite close to the bank, which anchored us nicely, and we savored the lovely cool breeze. Only a few people paddled by as we relaxed under the sun, watching the wildlife go about their business. Margie noted that we hadn't paddled since 11:00am. We'd started about 10:30, made it to the quiet waters away from the motor boats but had only traveled about 100 yards in total, yet since we were so comfortable where we were, it seemed like a good idea to have lunch, accompanied of course, with a few beers. We munched on Margie's egg and mint concoction, Emily's pasta with sides of chips and grapes. Emily had had a heavy evening the night before and commented, "I was hungover, and now I'm drunk,"  which made me giggle. Margie and I were very empathic. Everyone was feeling a little sleepy and to be honest, I don't really recall what happened next, but suddenly my boat tipped over and I was 'woman overboard', finding myself upside down and dunked into the water. It was actually quite refreshing but as well as me falling out, so had my camera, my phone, my reading glasses and all of our car keys, as well as my pasta.

Margie climbed out of her boat to help in the retrieval while Emily supervised. Everything was recovered but I was missing my glasses the next morning, oh well. I was rather upset about my pasta, but when I looked down into the water it seemed that some baby fishes were tucking in quite enthusiastically, so I couldn't be too miffed.
We spent a few hours just laying in our boats and chatting, with me drying off, and the day passed way too quickly but it had been wonderful to just relax and enjoy our natural peaceful surroundings. But the time came when we had to head to shore, and so we did, slowly.

We hauled our boats onto the beach and loaded them on our cars. my legs felt like heavy lead after having been so relaxed all day. The light was fading, tangerine hues stretching across the bay's horizon and reflected in the water. We sat on a bench and watched the last of the light disappear and then reluctantly decided we needed our beds. Despite having had such a lazy day I was exhausted. Back at home I amazed myself by managing to get Big Red off Stanley's and under my back porch, but not without hitting the roof of the carport with the boat,  a very loud dinner gong sound breaking the silence of our sleeping neighborhood, making me cringe. I had considered leaving it on the car and driving to work with it the next day, but realized that was foolish and I would still have to unload it the next evening anyway. I barely remember going to bed, I think I was asleep before my head even hit the pillow.

Scouting a School on a Sweltering Day

On Saturday, I met with Emily and Liz for a long overdue urbexing trip. A few of our friends had recently discovered an abandoned school in DC that had been closed about 6 years ago to save the District money so we decided to check it out before it became public knowledge, which usually results in total desecration by vandals and taggers.
It was a blistering hot and steamy day, my camera bag was already sticking to my back before we'd entered the property, which we managed by climbing in through a window. This proved to be a little easier for me than my two shorter pals but we achieved access without too much bother.

The first room we entered was a science lab. People had been here already, smashing equipment and daubing paint on the walls but there was still plenty of reasonable photographic opportunities and we quietly slunk about with our cameras, the silence punctuated with the cracking of glass underfoot, sounding like we were walking on bubble wrap.The familiar smell of mold and must filled my nose as I crunched my way around the lab, eager to start photographing the remains of the school.

We peered in through every doorway along the dingy dark hallways and I spotted a few clocks on the walls, each one had stopped at noon, which was strange, but kind of Twilight Zone cool. The lighting was great, bright sunlight casting distorted rectangles of white onto dusty floors, deep shadows contrasting close by. I didn't need a tripod, which was great because I'd been too lazy to bring one. Many of the rooms had been teaching different vocations, the shoe making room was interesting. I had flashbacks of Forest Haven, seeing these different skills being taught, and like the old asylum, there was so much paperwork strewn on the floors, some damp and clogged together, but also much was perfectly legible, names of tutors and teachers on exercise books and sheets of paper.

There were four floors to explore and we spent hours tramping the hallways and investigating all the rooms, many empty, filled with trash or with graffiti daubed on the walls, none of which was photo worthy. The huge gymnasium with its basketball court and bleachers had banners proudly declaring wins from 50 years ago. I haven't posted photos of these as they would disclose the school's location, but this school left a sports legacy that was unmatched by any other DC public school, and it was a little sad to see so many abandoned trophies and medallions broken or simply left behind in the rooms. Even band uniforms had been discarded, some still hanging in lockers.

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We found more science labs and radio labs, equipment and books piled up on dusty shelves in closets and storage rooms. Although some kids had been in here smashing things, there was still plenty that was still intact. Glass beakers, microscopes, glass slides, test tubes, books still in cellophane wrapping, so many supplies were left forgotten on the wooden shelves or in dark metal lockers. We were amazed that this hadn't been repurposed, this was a waste of District resources that could have been avoided with some planning.

Down in the basement was a hair salon and a huge weight room, which must have been ahead of its game in the day, but now the equipment stood rusted and silent, steeped in gloomy shadows with puddles of murky water on the floor, dust and moldy particles building up on the seats from the fallen ceiling tiles, curling inspirational posters clinging to damp walls. An empty cafeteria, its bright orange and yellow decor failed to make an impression against the rotting gloom of decay in this damp basement. The moldy odors bothered all of us and we were eager to climb the stairs back to fresher air. 
We finished with some photos of the greenhouse area. I would have loved to see this space in its heyday but now only weeds forced their way through broken panes and seemed to want to tug the glass roof down. Yet it had been a fabulous explore, a wonderful expedition with friends to capture a forgotten world, and a joy to discover a building that hadn't been totally desecrated by vandals, for now.

Flowers and Flutterers while Afoot

I was looking forward to a weekend of glorious weather, humidity would be high but the temperature would be upper 80's, so although 30 mile bike rides might be too taxing, some local exploring was certainly in order. I'd found a local flower garden online and decided this would be a blooming good start to my weekend.

I had to stop and take a photo of this concrete pug atop the pillar of a home who was celebrating a birthday. There was a pug atop a pillar on each side of the driveway but this one made me laugh, its rolling eyes implying it had already had a head start on the festivities.
Wollam Gardens is only about half an hour from me, tucked away down rustic lanes deep in countryside. I'd never heard of it before and was thrilled to discover this gem. I'd previously loved Burnside Farm with their fields of flowers but it had grown tremendously and was now a commercialized tourist trap teaming with visitors, too busy for me. Wollam Gardens is only 11 acres snuggled deep in the countryside with no signs on the main highways declaring its presence. So I was delighted to discover that as Stanley crunched into their gravel driveway I appeared to be the only visitor. I looked about to see if there were any 'closed' signs and not seeing any I picked up my camera and stepped out of the car. The first thing I noticed was the stillness. The air, the young flower stalks, the tall grasses and the leaves on the trees were motionless, it was as if I'd stepped into a pretty garden postcard.

And then I caught a movement in the corner of my eye a butterfly lazily skimming over the garden, and then as I looked round I was aware of a multitude of wings, dark blue and lemon yellow, swallowtails everywhere. They were flitting across zinnias inside plastic greenhouse tunnels and fluttering above the blooms outside, barely resting for more than a couple of seconds before hunting further for fresh pollen.

Even though the garden was serenely peaceful, I hadn't seen the vivid palette of colors I'd been expecting. Not necessarily large fields of burgeoning flowers but I'd hoped to see more than I saw today. There were a few dahlias, zinnias, everlasting flowers and a sunshiney yellow bloom that I couldn't identify. I knew the farm sold to farmers markets across the region and in DC so I assumed they'd picked most of the flowers to sell today. Nevertheless, despite my expectations the farm was pretty, small paths inviting visitors to follow them through a green leafy tunnel or round a corner, which is what I did, accompanied by my fluttering friends.

 I quietly sauntered along the trails, past a picnic seating area and then around a corner found myself looking at the most inviting hammock I'd ever seen. I've had some bad experiences trying to get into hammocks so I approached it tentatively and slowly lowered myself onto the ropes. A well placed pillow needed no adjustment and as I lay back I realized that one of the two oak trees that was holding me aloft had wooden ladders ascending its broad trunk with a little wooden platform at the top. I was way too comfortable to attempt the climb but I did assess whether it was worth the effort and after noting that the platform was actually only about 20 feet up I didn't feel that I was missing out on an experience by not climbing up there. I slowly rocked for about 20 minutes savoring the fragrant breeze that wafted across me and watching the butterflies. I actually looked up 'butterfly vision' when I got home because while walking about the gardens many butterflies flew directly in front of my face or came very close alongside me, leading me to question their visual prowess. But they apparently have excellent eyesight, so I can only assume that they also have very bad manners.

I strolled back towards the car and stopped to look in the plastic greenhouses at the zinnias. As I poked my head in the doorway a sparrow bombed past like a bullet, within inches of my head, his wings bunched in so he looked like a little torpedo. It made me step back but I quickly looked inside again to see him speeding towards and out of the far doorway back into the sunshine. It was clearly apparent by his actions that he'd really enjoyed that experience as he soared upwards into the sky, and I wondered if giving me a scare was part of his intention. I then met one of the staff who had just returned from a farmers market in Arlington and she led me into a deliciously cool walk-in freezer where tubs of freshly cut flowers were standing. I selected a few and had a very aromatic drive home, the sweet scents of herbs and blooms filling the car.
On Sunday I was up early so decided to go for a hike. I chose Mary's Rock as reviewers had loved the fabulous views on this trail, so soon after 7am I was in the car driving down the Skyline Drive.

I had to stop to allow this photographer, who was holding what looked like a 3ft lens on his camera, to take photos of a black bear crossing the road. This was actually my second bear sighting this morning but I'd been too slow to take a photo at that time. But now I had a chance and waited patiently as the guy took his shots. The bear seemed well used to the attention and took his time crossing the road, even stopping and changing the angle of his head. What a poser. He them ambled into the undergrowth with the photographer following so I drove past. There were also a few early morning salt-licking squirrels on the roads, although I'm amazed that they were still finding road salt after the numerous downpours we've had.

Mary's Rock is a very popular hike and I had been expecting to see some other hikers but once again I was on my own as I set off on the path. It really is wonderful to live out here where I can get a huge head start on the hikes. The townies and tourists have to get up so much earlier to start a morning hike and I love that I can be ahead of them. We locals have our domain to ourselves for the best part of the day, but sadly I couldn't rouse myself in time for a dawn hike. The trail began climbing immediately, mountain laurel bushes on each side. A previous hiker had commented that the huge rocks that sat along the trail looked like gravestones of giants and I kept thinking of this as I passed them.

The first panorama is The Pinnacles, which is the highest point in Rappahannock county. I noticed was how cool the breeze was here, almost chilly. It was delightful, although as I sat on the rocks to enjoy the scenery I was soon joined by huge buzzing flies. So I didn't stay long.

I spotted something tiny moving on the path ahead of me and carefully approached to find a dear little frog bouncing among the blades of grass. He was so well camouflaged that if he stopped moving I could barely see him. I waited to check he'd crossed the path safely before trekking on. I stopped at the camping shelter to read the journal and have a drink of water. These shelters are used daily by backpackers and thru-hikers and I'm always impressed by how clean they're left, and often with a fresh pile of firewood too. The journals are fun to read, jokes are often made, messages left for those behind on the trail and even the struggles of some who are having a hard time. I have nothing but respect for those that attempt this lengthy journey.

I stopped at another viewpoint to take advantage of the cooling winds but those pesky flies still plagued me so I could only endure a few minutes before continuing. I heard a bird trilling and once again saw something move on the trail. I approached quietly and saw a dear little baby bird peering up at me. It shouldn't have been out of the nest since it definitely couldn't fly, but I heard the mother close by, so once more waited until it had disappeared into the safety of the undergrowth before I continued on my way.

I arrived at Mary's Rock after having passed only one hiking couple and was amazed to find this popular spot empty. Once again, I had a front row seat. I perched on the edge, the breeze here feeling very cool and resigned to those damn flies which must have following me along the trail. The view here is of the Shenandoah valley with the Luray entrance to the Skyline Drive. The only distraction was the constant sound of motorbike engines, their annoying growling sounding very loud even from my position. Anyone following them wouldn't be treated to any bear sightings, I'm sure.

I began to make my way back, this was an in and out 6 mile hike. As it got closer to noon a few more folks appeared on the trail but no where near the numbers I'd been expecting. But I had plenty of company from the insect world. The bugs were really biting me today despite the copious amounts of bug spray I'd used, so much that I had the stink permanently up my nose as I walked. But it didn't deter the butterflies. Like yesterday there were multitudes of them here. I noticed a lot flitting and gliding across the Skyline Drive as I'd driven here, and even up on the trail they were prolific, mainly yellow swallowtails and spicebush swallowtails. I'd even been amazed when, standing at the viewpoints and looking for soaring eagles, instead I'd seen little swallowtails swooping in front of me, clearly enjoying the therms, the same as the big birds do. I'd even laughed as I stood on a rock, one languidly passed over my head, its little wings stretched out as it sailed in towards the trees from the big open sky. They covered the milkweed down the path but I was saddened to not see one single monarch throughout my hike, their numbers are definitely declining. Yet the flowers were abundant at this time of year. As well as the milkweed, I saw columbines, coreopsis, asters, Joe pye weed, goldenrod, ragwort and others I couldn't identify. The road verges and meadows were a riot of color, it was beautiful, their blooms with a constant motion above them of butterflies and bees, busy with their pollinating work. The Skyline Drive was pretty hectic now with constant traffic so I was quite content to leave the mad hordes behind and escape to my quiet little home.