Recreation Reporter

Galapagos Journal - Day 7: Santiago

2010-01-26T02:28:00.000-08:00

Puerto Egas - We traveled overnight to Santiago and set our anchor down in James Bay. At last we were at a location that Darwin had been!

Our early morning landing on the beach for a walk was welcomed by a heavily laden poison apple tree, its yellow fruit littering the sand. Though this sounds ominous it was an amazing sight. Soon we were walking in the footsteps of Darwin on a hard sand trail along the ocean carved lava coastline. Here the attraction was grottos, all manner of holes with views into underwater life, and the fur seals that found shelter and food here.

A few seals were lounging on the lava rock, comfortable on the hard and rough ledges with their thick fur coats. They are smaller than sea lions. Fur seals have larger back flippers proportionate to their bodies and more visible ears and are especially cute in appearance. They didn't have to do much to amuse us, merely lift a flipper to scratch an ear. We lingered there and with the smatterings of shorebirds and iguanas that dotted the coastline on our return to the beach.

After our typical breakfast on ship, we snorkled in the bay, 9 women drifting around a rocky point in very deep water, drinking in new visuals and remarkable encounters yet again. Alex snorkled with us, and dove at times which nudged wildlife into view. I saw an enormous sea turtle in this fashion - the closest encounter yet. Thanks Alex!

The lava formations included towers and I found it mesmerizing to float at the top of them. They were full of life and reminded me of an apartment building, though so much better. I stayed in place over one for ten minutes at least, watching colorful fish swimming in and out of crevices. Black sea urchins with dangerously long spines piled together in some of the spaces. The lighting was phenomenal and the parrotfish visiting these rock shelves were exquisite to behold at such close range.

Floating in the deep sections of clear water, we were all stunned by the layers of fish below us. Schools of various types of fish were positioned and moving at different depths. Even at the surface of the water, if one remembered to look there, countless little needle-nosed fish abounded. A few sharks passed by below, at comfortably lower depths.

Approaching the beach, still traveling along the rocky underwater cliff, we ran into other snorklers and especially playful sea lions. Here Meb had a deeply touching interaction with a sea lion who mimicked her movements, lifting its head simultaneously with hers out of the water to breathe, as she wasn't wearing a snorkle, just a mask. I had similar beginnings of a connection with another one of these exuberant yearlings, only to discover by sound that I was the last one left in the water. It was hard to leave and adhere to the requirements of our schedule.

Biking Into the New Year - the initiation of another winter bike commuter

2010-01-18T15:20:00.000-08:00

It all started on Christmas eve. I was taking a little stroll near home and a bicyclist passed me by, wearing the same flourescent jacket I have for riding in inclement weather. The sun was shining, the roads were dry, the wind was minimal, and I was totally inspired by this intrepid nameless rider in the cold.

The next day, I took my first ever Christmas bike ride, bundled up in the same jacket. I spun around Northfield on a 7 mile loop amidst fields of snow and loved it. I've been so inspired watching those serious bike commuters through the winter months. Truly, I'd rather bike than drive. I had just broken through my own belief that I couldn't ride in winter. Really, it is just a matter of wearing the right attire and cleaning your bike afterwards. Because you are pedaling, your body stays warm! At least this was the case at 28 degrees. Not sure how much colder I'd want to go. The only thing missing was a pair of goggles - that would have made a huge difference on downhills.

I decided I'd continue to break through old beliefs and try to ride at least once each month before spring. During a little warm spell over the weekend I got best window on January, being most inclined toward fair weather riding. I actually commuted on my bike (bonus points!) and rode to Greenfield. It was overcast, above freezing, windless, with a storm forecast later in the afternoon. How satisfying it was to ride all the way, along empty back roads, following the new Franklin County Bikeway signs, 17 miles to Greenfield, so I could help out at the co-op. Afterwards, Meb and I went to the Y for a sauna, strapped the bike on the car in the rainy start of an all-night snowstorm and drove home.

Galapagos Journal - Day 6: Fernandina

2009-12-26T05:32:00.000-08:00

Punta Espinosa - We landed in the mangroves, alongside a concrete dock of a few long steps. Immediately the sight and smell marine iguanas confounded the senses. They are a remarkable sight, alone or in piles, perfectly the gray asphalt color of the lava rock, with mottled skin where it is flaking off and a white crown of salt serving as camouflage amidst the bird droppings. Occasionally one will sneeze out salt water and take a little stroll or swim, but mostly they were piled together soaking up warmth from the sun.

The wildlife highlights here stretched to infinity. In the distance, blue-footed boobies were diving straight into the water in small group formations. Two pairs of flightless cormorants were nesting near each other on the rock at our feet, their sea green eyes set like gems in an articulated array of gray feathers. A small sea turtle from Palau napped on the rough gravel sand of narrow beach. A dozen young sea lions were body surfing in a small cove, their golden brown bodies streaking through the sun lit waves until they arrived right at the jagged shoreline, then turned back towards the sea to repeat this performance again and again. Shorebirds of various species including ruddy turnstones and wandering tattlers posed on scattered outcroppings. Two bull sea lions got into an argument on the beach over a sensuous female posing for photographers, disrupting the photo shoot. Iguanas were draped everywhere and it took mindful footfalls to avoid stepping on them. We stood amidst this pristine beauty in the glow of the afternoon sunlight and lingered as long as we could soaking up Eden.

Galapagos Journal - Day 6: Isabella

2009-12-21T03:21:00.000-08:00

Urbina Bay - For our early morning walk today Alex took us to Urbina Bay, a place that did not exist until 1954, when a section of sea floor rapidly uplifted on the edge of the island. A mangrove forest was killed, you can see the remains of the larger tree trunks. The beach is made of a composite of volcanic sand and broken down shells. This former sea floor stretches back a quarter mile or so on the level and we followed the trail laced with iguana tracks all the way back to the original beach where larger rounded stones and pebbles delineated a clear change of terrain.

The area is a shrubby tangle now that most goats have been eradicated. Cats and dogs are also a problem on this island, preying upon young land iguanas. Because of the soft soil, iguanas have established themselves at this lower elevation. We saw many burrows along the trail, where they sleep at night. We also found solitary iguanas here and there, maybe six or seven in total, including one big male sprawled in the path.

They are distinctly ochre on this island. I found a piece of iguana skin and with closer examination could see it was the whole top of a foot. Nothing can be taken from the islands here, so I carefully put it back. Skulls too, and bones abound: goat, cat, sea lion, tortoise. We saw two basketball-sized tortoises along our walk - Alex said they are about twenty years old.

Yesterday as we sailed past Vulcan Alcedo, I could make out narrow paths high up - tortoise trails! The shape of the tortoise shell on this island is particularly appealing to me. While still young, the plates of the shell show articulated rings that mark approximate age.

We also heard the Dark-billed Cuckoo, whose voice brings the rains. Yellow warblers and small tree finches and one Galapagos dove were present.....the temperature was milder, making our walk easier today.

After breakfast, snorkling in the bay was well worth it. Our group of morning snorklers has dwindled to eight women. We saw a wildy diverse array of marine life as usual. My thrills were swimming with millions of small silvery salema fish, following a ray, and catching a glimpse of a small octopus hauling itself along the sea floor and stuffing itself into a hole in a rock. The sea floor is covered with roundish chunks of lava, often broken or with holes that life clings to and moves into. We all found different things there. Lynn saw a lobster. Meb saw a moray eel. Judith saw a flightless cormorant swimming under water. Everyone noticed the sea urchins with rocks collected and stick them on their spines making a wildly bizarre garden.

Galapagos Journal - Day 5: Isabella

2009-12-14T18:57:00.000-08:00

Punta Moreno - This morning we went for a walk on the black lava, 500 years old. Red mangroves line the edge at the sea, believed to be first plant to take hold on the rough landscape. We are surrounded by seven volcanoes here, including one on Fernandina which is visible. There is a lava cactus and a type of grass (or possibly a sedge) and Darwin's Daisy also found in a few spots.

A vast flat land of barren lava spans the distance to Volcano Cerro Azul and Sierra Negra. It is a wild field of broken and ropey lava, some of which clinks where loose and stepped upon. We visited several lagoons, filled by the sea at high tide, where even a few sharks, snappers, and other fish can be found isolated from the ocean temporarily. Another type of fish known as mullet lives more permanently in these oasis ponds surround by mangroves in the hot and dark lava expanse. They are transported as eggs via bird droppings, at least originally, a form of distribution I had not imagined. We also found a few white-cheeked pintail ducks and some gallinules. Meb with her quick eyes spotted two pie-billed grebes, a more unusual find according to Alex, though we know them well in coastal New England. Four gloriously colored flamingos were the treasure at the heart of the walk, preening and backlit in the early morning sun. And finally, a really huge marine iguana - the size I have expected them to be - was basking in the sun.

The Cromwell ocean current approaching from the west upwells here from submarine levels, making for a rich feeding ground for marine life. The water is murky with nutrients. After breakfast we snorkled with sea turtles! If you float they do not startle and if you paddle gently you can even swim with them for a bit. It is the Pacific Green Sea Turtle we see here in great numbers. Some are quite huge and Meb even saw a couple of fast moving small ones. I only found the big ones and their movements are slow, deliberate, graceful. In two instances I observed one turtle reaching downward to eat algae off the rocks. The water here is colder than our previous snorkling locations, but not as frigid as Alex had predicted. I was able to stay in the whole time, and towards the end, a few of us spotted three or four penguins in the water. I was able to spot them above water first, then get a quick but clear view of them speeding by underwater. I feel quite fortunate about this. Swimming with sea turtles and penguins and tropical fish has to be one of the most unique experiences I'll ever have.

Galapagos Journal - Day 4: Floreana

2009-11-19T18:46:00.000-08:00

This day started well before dawn. I couldn't sleep and stole up to the deck. The ship was lit up in its own lights, anchored in Punta Cormoran. Circumnavigating our ship, I almost stumbled over the bird I've most wanted to see here, resting on the deck, face against the white wall. The red-billed tropicbird - with its long tail stretching across the walkway. I dropped here, maybe 8 feet away to sit with this visitor...resting or injured I wasn't sure.

About ten minutes later, Lynn emerged onto the deck, noticed the tropicbird, then leaned over the railing in delight. I stood up and looked out. Sea lions! Rolling and poofing alongside the Mary Anne. We enjoyed viewing them for awhile in the illuminated water, then I saw the hundreds of small silver fish scatter before the sea lions and realized all this activity was stimulated by the lights shining into the dark ocean. Perhaps this had drawn in the tropicbird as well.

Alex appeared in the doorway and we showed him our avian guest. He disappeared and reappeared quickly with a towel and scooped up the bird, setting off a volley of protesting shrieks. He felt it for injuries, then walked to the bow of the boat and let it fly. Unexpectedly a door opened nearby and a crew member emerged from the front hold with a small white bird in his hands. Alex identified this as a red-necked phalarope. After a quick examination, this tiny bird with a very sharp black beak was soon too flying off towards shore. So it was that my first two birds of the day were birds in the hand.

I might have had an omen in these two disoriented visitors, for much of the day for me was out of sorts. Though we had a lovely walk on Floreana to a turtle nesting beach and witnessed a female returning to the sea after laying her eggs -and also experienced incredible tropical fish and sharks while snorkeling at Devil's Crown - I spent the rest of the day with a walloping headache.

Snorkeling in our own human school, floating over thousands of one type of fish with another dozen species of fish in view - this was the most amazing snorkeling experience yet. White-tipped sharks - mostly 3-4 feet long - appeared here and there, looking sinister despite their small size. A sea lion graced my vision in one twist of its body ahead of me. For awhile I floated with an enormous puffer fish, then a swaying school of colorful king angelfish as they traveled together locating good feeding spots, clustering at one rock, then filtering off to another.

Later, when we were traveling westward to Isabella, we spent a good 20 minutes or so in the company of hundreds of common dolphins. They kept their distance, leaping and splashing steadily...

...and later yet, after dinner, in the dark of night, when my headache was on the wane, once again the lights of the ship attracted feeding visitors. A clicking call off deck as we traveled onward inspired one of our passengers to investigate. White birds flying alongside the Mary Anne turned out to be swallow-tailed gulls! We actually got to witness the world's only nocturnal gull night feeding!

Galapagos Journal - Day 3: Espanola

2009-11-18T03:55:00.000-08:00

After breakfast we took a panga ride to a beautiful white sand beach and walked among sea lions of all ages. I am amazed at how easy it is to accept the closeness of wild animals. They are acclimated to humans after years of national park regulations. Still it is an emotional experience to step onto the sand and have them not respond, not be nervous, not perceive us as a threat. They are completely relaxed. A few roll and grunt, event sit up and look around, strike a pose, then flop over again.

They must be exhausted after some period of play or hunting. Alex says the mothers leave the pups on the beach with the rest of the colony while they swim off to feed for a few hours, sometimes even a few days. The pup and mother find each other by voice, calling back and forth. We saw one pup traveling the length of our beach walk, searching for its mother, then later, a mother and pup swimming side by side.

Swimming in this water was divine, a perfect temperature and high salinity, totally clear, reflecting turquoise. Few sea lions were swimming, in fact, we had seen none in the water, when I looked out from the beach and saw one streaking toward me underwater. It lifted its head out 2 or 3 times as it swam in a direct course toward me. As I stood there in the water I really began to wonder if it was going to crash right into me. Just before it reached my legs, I moved and it veered by me, heading to shore. Wow!

We four human friends frolicked in the water for some time offshore from a long sleeping pile of sea lions and eventually a few of the older pups began to slide into the ocean, presumably to cool off. It was only 7am but already hot. Lynn was floating in the small breaking waves and a curious yearling spent a few minutes in her presence, rolling near her. We are allowed to approach wildlife to about six feet, but not to touch anything. I was beginning to wonder now, what if the wildlife touched us?

Galapagos Journal - Day 2: Santa Cruz

2009-11-15T15:57:00.000-08:00

We visited the Van Stralen Visitor Center for a video (here of all places!), then a lesson on tortoises and the eradication programs for invasive species in the Galapagos. Never have I been in such a strictly regulated place where conservation is taken so seriously. Our guide Alex had his faith in human kind shaken by the greed of turistas, alas. He is strong about his views and so far we are respectful.

He took us to see "his babies", recently hatched tortoises kept in captivity until 4 years of age, when they are large enough to be released into the wild and survive the predations of feral dogs and cats. There they were in their small sturdy shells, munching pieces of lettuce in a compound secure from the thieving predations of tourists. We also visited the famous Lonesome George, who moved ever so slightly while we watched, and Diego, a tortoise returned to the Galapagos from the San Diego Zoo to assist with breeding efforts.

I had my first chance to sit and sketch in the place where people can view the tortoises without barriers. Three or four of these huge animals rested motionless in the shade. I especially enjoyed a few minutes of calm after most of our group had moved on. Meb lingered to take photos of Galapagos finches and doves. We lingered quietly and the big ones began to poke their heads out and move a bit, even clinking their shells together as they gently repositioned themselves.

Every little movement of a tortoise is a magnified experience. They are so huge and old and grounded and slow. They invite a slowing down in us, a soulful rest, a contemplative inaction.....what wisdom do they hold? According to Alex, we cannot determine their age when alive or dead. That is a satisfying mystery to me.

Galapagos Journal - Day 1: North Seymour

2009-11-06T03:39:00.000-08:00

After an endless wait in the Quito airport, a flight over layered clouds, emerald landscapes and the braided Guayaquil river, we landed in the city of Guayaquil, then took off over the Pacific Ocean.....and eventually saw the island of San Crisotobal from our window. Soon thereafter, with a grand turn of our Tame Airlines plane, we landed smoothly on Baltra Island. In a whirl we were walking past military planes, through a crowded customs line under an open air structure and gathered to meet our guide Alex, a deeply tanned Ecuadorian looking like a pirate with a bandana tied around his head. Once the luggage was claimed, we were herded past sea lions (!) and iguanas (!) lounging on the dock, boarded an inflated motorboat and zipped through a small harbor to the most amazing looking ship, our home for the next week. "Welcome to the Mary Anne," grinned Alex, "also known as the Black Pearl!"

We were given a brief orientation to the ship, tossed our baggage in our rooms, changed clothes and were back in the "panga" boat to North Seymour island for an afternoon walk before the next tour came. Excursions are scheduled in group sequence from each anchored ship we learned, so we only had a limited amount of time at each location, a sense of pressure that we adjusted to during the week. As the trip unfolded, even an hour on one beach or in a snorkling location felt like 2 or 3 hours. The powerful sense of wonder continuously experienced luckily overrode the normal sense of frustration I would have felt with such a controlled and limited amount of time to experience a place.

As we stepped up out of the panga onto rocky steps, we were experiencing our second close encounter with wildlife draped everywhere. A sea lion pup was crying for its mother, who was laying nearby completely relaxed, the strong odor of fish emanating from her sun warmed skin. A swallow tailed gull - a bird I had eagerly anticipated seeing -was resting without fear on the rocks along the first steps of the path. We weren't even on the island yet, and our line was backing up in a daze. "Keep going!" yelled Alex, and we stumbled forward, trying avoid iguanas in the trail.

Our hour long walk took us through the nesting area of blue-footed boobies and frigatebirds. Countless scrapes of nests circled by the white streaks of projected guano surrounded us on our narrowly defined path through the delicate ground. The boobies were everywhere, calling and wheezing, raised their wings and heads to the sky in courtship everytime another booby flew over. Pairs on the ground seemed unaware of us, lost in the choreography of sharing their blue feet with each other. Cameras clicked like crazy. We made our way through the colony which comprised the entire brushy flat top area of the island as far as I could tell, to the beach on the other side, some of us squeezing in bits if introductory conversation as well. It was a surreal experience the likes of which we would soon be accustomed.

The afternoon sun cast a glorious light on the incoming waves. Rows of small black marine iguana heads were sillhouetted among the dark rocks overlooking the ocean. A thick zig zag line in the sand captivated my imagination. What kind of animal passage did it reveal? A sea lion pup appeared exhausted, calling pitiously for its mother who was hauled up on the beach just out of its reach. Again cameras clicked. "Soon you'll be deleting most of these pictures in favor of others to come," commented Alex with a knowing smile. I tried taking a few pictures the first day, then let go of this in favor of simply experiencing the islands in the precious moments we had there and let others capture images. When time allowed I used a journal to record the week's adventures.

Galapagos Journal - Introduction

2009-11-02T14:42:00.000-08:00

I'm still thinking about a trip to the Galapagos Islands I had the privilege of taking last March. My partner Meb and I were treated by friends to a remarkable journey through that remote and famous archipelago 600 miles off the coast of Ecuador. Here is where Charles Darwin traveled on the Beagle in 1835, observed the remarkable differentiation of species among the isolated islands and found the inspiration for the theory of evolution.

The Galapagos are the second largest marine reserve in the world, where humans first arrived only as recently as the 16th century. This is late by comparison to any other tropical island or archipelago in the Pacific, where vast extinctions followed after Polynesian settlement. Since this didn't happen in the Galapagos, we have a chance to witness a relatively pristine environment with some unbelievably tame wildlife. Though only three percent of the islands are populated, thanks in large part to a lack of fresh water as well as national park protections, human encroachment has still wreaked havoc both historically and in the present day. The Galapagos Islands are under constant pressure and it is a continuous challenge to perserve, restore and uphold the delicate balance of life there.

I wrestled with visiting as a tourist and thought about not going for all the right ecological reasons. In the end I accepted the gift of the trip. It was too magnificent an opportunity to miss, and I decided I would seek deeper understanding of the issues, help educate others, and probably not visit extremely delicate places afterwards. This opportunity to experience one of the earth's renowned ecotourist destinations has made all of them much more real to me. No need to put every place I'd like to visit - such as Alaska National Wildlife Refuge or the Amazon Rainforest - on my travel list. Instead, I'll enjoy more sensitive places through the sharings of others and reduce impact on them by simply not going. Our trip to the Galapagos, and in particular the attitude of our native national park guide, convinced me to embrace a new ethic about travel choices.

We traveled aboard the Mary Anne, a barquentine rigged sailing vessel, with 12 other tourists, a national park guide, and eight crew members. The wildlife was every bit as stunning as shown in countless wildlife films. The geology was astounding - islands made by volcanos and uplifted from the sea, perfectly portraying sequential stages of aging as they pass ever so slowly over a geologic hotspot. From the most newly formed island Fernandina in the west, with its active volcano and mostly lava landscape, to Santa Cruz in the center with its forested highlands, to Espanola in the southeast, worn down to a nub of what it once was and the next one slated to disappear back into the sea, the Galapagos demonstrate the evolution of islands themselves.

Located on and just south of the Equator, these islands are situated at a junction of major ocean currents that bring both warm and cold waters into the area seasonally. Named in Spanish for the saddle appearance of the shell of the giant tortoise on one particular island, the Galapagos are comprised of a dozen larger islands and numerous smaller ones and outcroppings. The magnitude of wildlife on the islands is supported by an even vaster array of marine life around them. Although I had a tiny taste of snorkling in the Bahamas previously, it was in the Galapagos where I truly experienced abundant life in the ocean at a scale beyond imagining. Sea lions, sea turtles, penguins, whales, dophins, rays, sharks and tropical fish in large numbers were commonplace. We snorkled daily on our trip and each experience revealed a different topography and staggering array of life forms.

Whenver I need a little reprieve from daily life, I open the journal I kept during that week of wonders and revisit the words and images collected there. It is a trip I will savor for a long time to come. Subsequent posts will share selections from each day.

Day 1: North Seymour
Day 2: Santa Cruz
Day 3: Espanola
Day 4: Floreana
Day 5: Isabella
Day 6: Isabella and Fernandina
Day 7: Santiago and Pinnacle Rock
Day 8: Santa Cruz

The Best Little Eco-Vacation

2009-11-02T14:11:00.000-08:00

This summer, I fulfilled a promise to myself and traveled twenty-five miles from my house to Temenos on two wheels. It was an exalted pilgrimage that lightened my heart as well as my impact on the planet for a few inspirational days.

With front and rear panniers loaded on my bike, plus an insulated food bag atop my rear rack, I started my ride with an eye to the clouds. It was a lovely late August day with a few storms in the forecast. Sure enough, as I pedaled along the Connecticut River I was treated to a purifying rain shower for a few miles, making me thankful for the fenders I had added to my bike. Entering Montague, the sun re-emerged and the world sparkled.

As the miles gradually rolled by under my wheels, I found myself feeling relaxed, strong and happy, pleased to be using my bike to transport myself - what an honest way to go! Already I was shedding the layers of society's entrapments and reveling in nature's beauty before I even arrived at my favorite getaway, Knoll cabin. I could travel fairly lightly given the season and the well-supplied shelter waiting for me on Mt. Mineral. I wheeled along marveling at the small sights and large views along the way, the slow but sure turning of summer into autumn, the smells of sun-browned grass and wild grapes.

I couldn't resist the spontaneity of gathering fresh local food for my retreat from a roadside stand. I was already toting two very small watermelons but managed to squeeze more fruits of the season into my bags - peaches, plums and a quart of blueberries. To this I soon added a bowl of raspberries, picked while having lunch with a friend around the corner. Her ten month old baby boy charmed me with his innocent antics while we visited. It was positively liberating to take my time and enjoy all the possibilities of the ride.

Then up the hill I went for the second half of the ride, pedaling at slow speed through North Leverett, the real test of my journey. I stopped at the picnic pavilion in Moores Corner to stretch and enjoy this thoughtful space, perfectly positioned for a rest from my climb. The afternoon was heating up as I continued on, plowing by the Village Co-op and fantasizing about a dip in Lake Wyola. Once there, I discovered that pouring ice cold water over my head from the drinking fountain was all I needed, my vision re-focused on a victory plunge in the pond at Temenos. I was almost there! Entering dirt roads felt like the threshold to my destination. Reaching Mt. Mineral Road I had arrived, yet the steepest climb of all was before me. Here, as I had expected, I discovered the limitations of my commuter bike and pushed it the last quarter mile up.

My summit was no less triumphant for walking the final part. The dark lily-ringed pond was the ultimate cool down. What a revelation to be at Temenos without my car! I felt the distance traveled in my strength and fatigue, a truer measure than an odometer. Before me now were four nights and three full days of bliss in which I rested, explored, tasted and contemplated the fruits of summer. I relished my time at Temenos all the more for having so earned it, savoring every experience deeply, and though sad to depart, was joyful for my means home.

Delaying the much anticipated downhill ride through Leverett, I started my trip home with a short uphill jaunt to have lunch with another friend. Visiting people along the way makes so much sense on a bicycle and echoes a lost way of life to me that is a pleasure to reclaim. By giving myself the whole day to travel on back roads, an un-planned sequence of micro-adventures unfolded before me. Indeed, my descent towards Montague was three times faster that my ascent, leaving me with plenty of time to visit again with my friend there and browse at the Book Mill. Miles later I collected wild elderberries and made numerous bird-watching stops as I approached home. I arrived with clouds rolling over the sky, ahead of a new weather front. My promise and journey were complete. I was inspired to travel more by bike and reminded in a whole new way that the joys of simpler living are always worth choosing.

This article is featured in the Fall 2009 issue of Forest Notes, the newsletter of Temenos produced two times a year. I've been writing a feature article in each issue since 2005. Enjoy other features of mine from Forest Notes at http://www.forestnotesfeatures.blogspot.com/

Settle Into the Wild Side at Temenos

2009-11-02T12:50:00.000-08:00

Tucked into the hills of western Massachusetts, Temenos is a unique sanctuary where you can embrace rustic living and escape for awhile from the fast pace and stresses of society. Whether you are seeking relief from the world or are ready for a new adventure, here is a place that will surely help you rediscover your wild side and deeper being. Reconnect with nature and simplicity on your own terms at Temenos.

Temenos is a Greek word meaning "the sacred space surrounding a temple or altar". It is a bit like putting yourself on an altar to go there, and, as a modest brochure about this mountaintop retreat says, it is a place "where the spirit unfolds." The name was chosen by Quaker founders Joe and Teresina Havens in 1973 when they set out in their later years to create a sanctuary in the town of Shutesbury. Though the Havens are long gone, Temenos remains a testament to their vision - a place where people can come to restore themselves. As the location was once a celebrated respite offering mineral springs, fresh air and mountain views to city-weary Bostonians in the nineteenth century, there is a gentle energy about the place that welcomes those in need of calm and quiet. The Havens with their Quaker and Buddhist values reawakened a spiritual wellspring there and fortified it with a new vision that lives on for those who need it.

Today, Temenos is approximately 65 acres of forested mountain, with a lodge and four rustic cabins available for rent. It is a "chop wood, carry water" situation - the wood is already chopped for you and you supply your own fresh water from a centrally located hand pump. Restrooms are ultra rustic whimsical wooden outbuilding where human waste is naturally composted. The cabins are furnished with pots and pans, utensils, wood stoves, bed and blankets, candles, a gas burner, tables and chairs, and a cabin journal for those who care to share a few words about their stay. Each cabin is unique with its own simple moniker: Pine, Thrush, Mu and Knoll. My personal favorite is Knoll, the smallest and most isolated, with Japanese-paned windows and a tree left as a natural column in the center of its one room. The other three cabins are small enough to enjoy solo, but big enough to house 2 to 4 people comfortably. Well-loved and imbued with the gentle energy of retreatants over the years, they are each a remarkable alternative to owning and maintaining your own private cabin in the woods.

Retreats have become a well-established and vital part of my life since I first discovered Temenos fifteen years ago. I take them on a quarterly basis to counterbalance the rigors of my daily life and nourish my soul. I usually go for two to four nights. As unpack my car and hike along the trail with my gear in a backpack or pulled in a conveniently provided cart, thoughts and tensions drop away. I begin to awaken to the sights and sounds of the forest and feel remnants of energy begin to stir. By the time I reach my cabin I am warmed up even on the coldest day. The cabin is freshly swept and stocked for the next retreatant, left so by the previous one. As I unpack my gear and start a fire in the woodstove, the flames become a metaphor for my own inner fire rekindling. Soon I am free to nap, explore, write, meditate, whatever I need in the moment.

Without obligations and distractions, I can tune in and be with the rhythms of nature. The moon sailing across the sky. The sunrise. Sunset. The calls and songs of birds. The tracks of animals across the snow. The life around a tiny pond. The wind moving through the treetops. The view of distant mountains from a ledge. Tree toads. Barred owls. Deer passing by. Ravens calling. Buds opening. Leaves drifting down to earth. If this sounds appealing to you, it may be time to schedule a retreat at Temenos!

People come to Temenos individually, as couples, in families and groups. The Lodge is open from April to November and offers simple luxuries - a kitchen, gas refrigerator, running water, large screened in porch, and a modest collection of books and musical instruments. It is spacious enough to hold workshops and weddings. At the same time others may be retreating in the cabins, sometimes in silent zen style, sometimes in boisterous family style but usually in a peaceful state. Dayhikers sometimes pass through and occasionally there is a work project taking place on the land. The mountain holds it all, with trails to explore in all directions.

Location: 65 Mt. Mineral Road, Shutesbury, Massachusetts
Phone: 413-367-9779
Online: http://www.massretreats.com/
Transportation: by private vehicle

Accessibility: Limited. Arrangements can be made to drive to the Lodge and some of the cabins. No accessible restroom facilities. A commode is available. Assistance on site is likely to be needed and should be provided by a companion. Service animal allowed in one cabin. The Lodge and other cabins are kept animal free for allergy-free reasons.

Fees: Cabins $35-40 per night for first person, additional people add $15 each. Lodge rental $35 per person, $175 minimum for a weekend. Fees subject to change.

Publication: Forest Notes, produced twice yearly, is a newsletter for retreatants and anyone who wants to be on the Temenos mailing list. For several years now I have written and illustrated a feature in every issue. You can read a selection of these contributions at http://www.forestnotesfeatures.blogspot.com/