Colorful January

That sounds like an oxymoron doesn’t it! “Colorful January.” We usually think of white snow, a scene dominated by blues and cold grays, or else we think of tan, brown, gray, and more tan. At least around here, anyway.

But Sue and I have been hiking as much as we can (post-holiday fitness attempts). And we’ve been seeing things. Maybe we’re just being mighty hopeful, looking for signs of spring wherever we might find them, and imagining we see them when we don’t.

Anyway, on Saturday, we went for a nice little hike at Spring Creek Gap Conservation Area. And we did see some color!

For one thing, there’s the beautiful coppery shine of the many clumps of Virginia broomsedge, or broomsedge bluestem (Andropogon virginicus), one of our native warm-season grasses. I have always admired this plant, recognized it as being quite different from other grasses, long before I knew its name. It’s quite common, but it really shines in winter, after its bluish-green leaves have cured to a glorious copper color.



And as we hiked a little further, we started noticing there were several fallen logs with an eye-popping orange bracket fungus on them: Cinnabar polypores! These tough polypore brackets are bright orange-red above and below.



. . . As you can see.



With fungi this bright and colorful, you almost don’t miss the flowers.

In the creek, there were delicate patches of bright green filamentous algae, flowing after rocks like mermaid hair.

And here are some pretty little mosses and lichens. The tiny goblets are the reproductive structures of the lichen. Lichens, you know, are a life form that comprises both a fungus species and an algae and/or cyanobacteria species, living in a mutually beneficial relationship.



Yeah, yeah, whatever. . . . But mostly, we love them for their cute little pale blue-green fairy goblets, which contrast so nicely with the yellowish greens of the nearby moss!



As the afternoon went on, the sun drifted behind some milky white clouds. Once the golden beams disappeared, it was as if the color had been sucked out of the landscape. The sky was dull white, and it was hard to tell how close we were to sunset.

As we hiked back on the main ridge trail, the sun repaid us for its earlier shyness by dipping down below the clouds that had offended us earlier. As the sun sank below the horizon, its beams poked the bellies of the clouds, tickling them pink and orange, revealing their ripples of relief.



We just stood and took pictures!

What a great day!

Moving Right Along

It’s 2011 now, and I’ve gotten behind in telling you about stuff. Here’s an update.

First, happy new year! As I told you last year at this time, New Year’s Eve is my favorite holiday. It is both fun and psychologically substantial. I love how crossing over that randomly determined Gregorian boundary forces me to consider myself truly in the moment, standing in neither past nor future.

We host an annual party, in the tradition of my Grandma S. Although most years, it’s a “family and friends” party, this year it was only family, a smaller group than usual, and a bit more laid back than it’s been in some previous years. Fortunately, my cousin and his wife brought their two young grandkids, and their liveliness prevented us all from sitting around like a bunch of mummies.




Well, it wasn’t that bad, but I was a little let down at the attendance. It worries me a bit about my social currency. I’m starting my third year of working at home, and I have very little social life. It makes me wonder if I’ve losing any social aptitude I might have acquired in the past. But I tell myself it’s just that some years The Party is going to be less of a “deal.” And there were few out-of-state family in Missouri for the holidays, anyway, and that didn’t help the attendance. Oh, well.

We did have a great party, and the mutzens were wonderful (in my humble opinion). We had lots of leftovers, so we have been eating them for breakfast. I’ll be glad to get back onto the oat bran muffins.

We have lots of other leftovers from the party, and it’s been just hell eating all those delicious tidbits. New Year’s Eve is when I buy the really good cheeses and cut up lots and lots of veggies. Oh, the agony of “having” to eat that delicious eleven-year-aged white cheddar from Cheese Haven. We had some tonight with our supper. Ooh-la-la.

This year we did something we’ve never done before: We collected all our party dishes and glassware and washed them at 2 a.m. January 1. Yes! Thus we woke up to a not-completely-bombed-out house. We did have powdered sugar everyplace, but that’s part of the fun.

Each January 1, Sue and I try to go on some kind of outing. This year, we drove to Spring Creek Gap Conservation Area (down by Rolla) and did a brief hike. It was very fun, and it was great to be out in the sunshine of a new year.

On our way there, we stopped at the Fire Tower near Freeburg (not the one that’s right at the Spring Creek Gap parking area—that’s the Vichy Fire Tower—this one is different).




Gotta climb those things when you can, y’know? Even when it’s cold. This fire tower appeared to be situated near some kind of dog kennel. Maybe a dog-breeding operation? Lots of barking down below.

Here’s a picture of the creek bed at Spring Creek Gap. We messed around at the creek for a while, poking at pretty rocks. The Ozarks have some gorgeous rocks!




The MDC’s been thinning out the forest in places. Here’s a view from one of the gladey areas they are apparently trying to promote.

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Okay, and then there’s the end of Christmas. You know how I like to keep the decorations up through Epiphany (January 6); therefore, this was the weekend we took it all down.

Actually, in the case of the Weihnachtspyramide, it’s technically “taking it up,” since we store it in a special closet upstairs.

I’ve talked a lot about the traditions of setting up the tree—how we sing “O Tannenbaum” as we carry it down the steps to the living room, etc.—but I haven’t said much about putting it away.

It’s a little less nostalgic. We pull the ornaments off and each year try to figure out some sort of “system” for storing them in their boxes so we can find them more easily next year. Meanwhile, we have to keep an eye on Earl (the cat), who is endlessly curious about the boxes and the paper.

Sue and I have been threatening to teach ourselves how to sing “O Tannenbaum” backwards, so we can reverse ourselves as we carry the tree upstairs.

We took some pictures as the tree was in states of disassembly. Maybe you’ll find them interesting. (Next post. Stay tuned.)




And then, naturally, once all of “Christmas” is packed up and tucked away in the closet, the living room looks big enough to do a square dance in. Does that happen to you? It makes me kinda happy I have some of that sharp cheddar left over to help fill the absence. Because it’s not the crowdedness I miss—it’s the specialness.

Yeah, we’re officially into the winter doldrums. I suppose the busy-ness of Christmas preparations helps us overcome the psychological effects of shortening days, and I’m glad for that—but even though the days are getting longer, this is the coldest time of year, and it can be the snowiest. Cooped up in the house. This is the time of year I’m most apt to ask myself why I ever moved away from the Southwest.

So today I’ve been working on freelance (please don’t ask for details), and when I’m through posting this, I’ll work on a different freelance project. Writing this is my reward for plugging away all afternoon on a weekend on an index.

The weather forecast says that, now that it’s bitter cold out there, tomorrow and the next day we’re supposed to get snow. I’ve got my boxes of tea lined up and ready, and the kitties are here to show me how to keep warm.




And that’s pretty much how we are tonight.

Vichy Fire Tower

After we finished our hike last Sunday at Spring Creek Gap Conservation Area, we decided our legs could accomplish a little more, so we crossed the road (Old Highway 63) and climbed the ca. 130 steps up to the top of the Vichy Fire Tower.




Fire spotting is no longer done by people in towers, but the groovy old towers still stand on hilltops throughout the Ozarks. They are fun places to visit.

When I was a kid, our family would often picnic at highway rest stops, often near these towers. Dad would take me and Paul up to the top of the tower. Of course we kids were rambunctious from having to sit in the car, and Mom, Grandma, and whoever else were busy digging fried chicken, potato salad, pickles, and tomatoes out of the picnic basket and preparing the table for our feast.

Revisiting these fire towers today, I am amazed that Dad took us up these. Most parents today would have fits over the potential danger of falling; they wouldn't feel safe up there themselves, much less their Nintendo-hyper kids. There's no screening to give you an illusion of safety; just the bare beams and all kinds of void around them. You would not bring a toddler up one of these.




Anyway, we didn't have any kids with us, so we could simply enjoy the sights from on high.

We could see part of Highway 63--the stretch from which you can see the tower.




It's a long way down.




And we even noticed that we could see the shadow of the tower--and the tiny figures of us--outlined on the trees of Spring Creek Gap. (Yes, we waved at ourselves!)




I'm surprised that these fire towers haven't been ripped down, fenced off with barbwire, coated with Warning Keep Off signs. Here is an actual, serious, potentially dangerous and deadly thing, on public property, with no one immediately around to rope it off during an electrical storm, hold your hand, or tell you to quit throwing things. It is pretty amazing.

So if you like to get great views of the Ozarks, stretch your legs while on a drive, or just acquire a little different perspective, you might pull off the road and clamber up one of these towers occasionally. Before the lawyers make them all come down.

Addendum, September 18, 2011: Apparently the Vichy Fire Tower is no longer accessible to the public. Read the comments below.

Spring Creek Gap Conservation Area

Today I’m going to tell you about Spring Creek Gap Conservation Area, and Spring Creek Gap Glades Natural Area, which is included within the Conservation Area. We hiked this area a week ago, Sunday, October 4, and had a great time at this gorgeous, relatively untrampled public land.

It’s administrated by the Missouri Department of Conservation (MDC) and comprises 1,816 acres in Maries County (that’s pronounced MARE-eez, for you outsiders). On a map, you’ll find Spring Creek Gap CA a little north of Rolla, and a little southeast of Vienna. The closest town is Vichy (rhymes with “fishie”). (I won’t touch the local pronunciation of “Vienna”—I hear there are different ways to pronounce it, and I’m not going to enter that fray!)

Anyway, we first visited this Conservation Area early this year (February 28, 2009) and hiked in the snow. We didn’t hike very far, but we had a great time, loved the views, and vowed to return. Hence our trip last weekend! Here are a few pictures from our February outing:






. . . So after that visit, we ended up picking perhaps the best weekend of the year for our return hike. The weather was perfect—sunny, crisp, with those intense blue skies we can get here in October. The fall color changes were still in the early stages, with early changers—such as brilliant red sumacs—showing great color against the warm palette of late-summer greens.




Additionally, the asters, goldenrods, and other friendly, late-blooming composites were casually bobbing their waist-high inflorescences, adding their earth tones to the landscape like patches of lavender, gold, and cream in a hillside by Cézanne.




The landscape changes a lot at Spring Creek Gap. Entering the area at the south parking lot—at the top of a hill, near the Vichy Fire Tower site (more on that soon, I promise) off of Old Highway 63—you are surrounded by a forest of shortleaf pines, which is pretty special for Missouri.

Shortleaf pines used to be all over the southern part of Missouri, but they were so intensively logged that few forests remain. The patch here by Spring Creek Gap is a planting, and it’s cool to see these gorgeous, soft-looking pines and to think about how this area might have looked when they were much more numerous.

As you hike the trails of the area, you pass through oak-hickory forests, along ridges, way down into creek crossings, and all topographic levels in between.




Additionally—and I think this is the reason for the Natural Area designation—there are a number of glades, some small, some covering more than ten acres.

Glades are relatively open areas where the soils are poor and usually involve rocks poking out of the ground. They’re kind of like miniature deserts, and they feature plants that are xeriphytic by Missouri standards—prairie species like yellow coneflower, liatris, and big bluestem, for instance. Glades are also good places to look for lizards—and we saw plenty of them, basking on this sunny autumn day.




In terms of the hiking experience, the glades provide a cheery contrast to the forested sections of the trail, a place where you can see vistas and get a view of where you’ve come from and where you’re going. A breath of fresh air and sunshine.

Adding even more ecological interest to the area, the MDC has created several small watering ponds to improve the terrain for wildlife. Most of these ponds are off the trail, hidden from view by small ridges, but a few are easily seen. I’ll bet these are wonderful places for photographers to visit at daybreak to capture images of animals taking their morning drinks.




The trails in this Conservation Area vary. The main trails appear to be fire roads—double-tracked, often graveled, sometimes slightly rutted. These are easy to follow. Some of the other trails are more difficult, however.

We had the area brochure and map with us, and we got off course when we missed a trail juncture that wasn’t marked accurately on the map and wasn’t marked with signage at the trail intersection. Plus, the trail we had missed was pretty grown up and hard to see, anyway.

So the topography on the map soon contradicted what we were seeing around us, and we sensed we were on a wrong course. We turned around and were ready to backtrack possibly the whole distance, when a pair of spry ladies trip-trapped up the trail and were having basically the same problem as us; together we found the missing trail turn-off and continued on.

And there were a few notable places where this section of trail was greatly overgrown with grasses (river oats and such). Part of me was pleased to be in such a wonderfully remote area, but then another part of me wondered, “Well, is this the dang trail, or not?”

Yes, there were some signs tacked to trees at (most) major trail intersections, but they were ambiguously marked (“D” was spray-painted on one; “E” and “F” were two others we saw). These signs didn’t match anything we saw on the map, so they might as well have been written in Sanskrit for all the good they did. The trails aren’t named on the map, either, and approximate mileages aren’t provided—any of these would have been nice to have.




I think that the loop trail we hiked was about three miles long—but since there’s no name for it, it doesn’t do me any good to tell you that, does it.

Another gripe about the trails: Many of them go straight up and down hillsides. My poor ol’ knees were singing, but beyond my personal comfort, I also think that switchbacks are important safeguards against erosion. Why aren’t there switchbacks on these steep (and rocky) hillside marches, or at least generally more oblique approaches up and down the terrain? One wonders. Maybe these are simply old hillbilly trails from the 1800s, and no one has changed them.




After this complaining, let me reiterate the good stuff. It’s a fairly remote area and gloriously little-traveled. We were there the best weekend of the year for hiking, and we only encountered those two ladies the whole time we were there. There’s lovely topographical relief and a diversity of landscapes, a little bit of everything—forests, creeks, glades, ponds, Ozark panoramas. Biological diversity: check! We saw lots of different plants, fungi, and animals. The hike is long enough to be substantial and satisfying, and definitely worth a few-hour drive.

. . . And then there’s also the Vichy Fire Tower, and I’ll tell you about that next.

[Photo credits: Sue, Sue, and Sue, my photographer extraordinaire. Thanks sweetie, and a happy NCOD to you! And to every one of us.]