Alexandersmap

    Category: Travel

    • A Quick Hike Along the Niagara River

      A Quick Hike Along the Niagara River

      Niagara Falls rightly gets most of the attention from visitors to this corner of New York.   The Niagara Falls State Park is the oldest state park in the United States and looking around I’m grateful for those who preserved this area from souvenir shops, off track betting, casinos and parking garages that would otherwise grind right up to the edge of the falls.  Americans need to be protected from themselves and state and national parks are one way to keep the wolves at bay.

      I’ve visited Niagara Falls half a dozen times in my life and appreciate the power and beauty of the falls every time I see them.  I’ve seen the whirlpool from the Canadian side but that’s akin to walking on the boardwalk at the beach.  You see similar stuff but you don’t get any sand in your shoes.  There’s an elevator on the Canadian side.  Taking an elevator is not my idea of getting outdoors.  So with that as my experience with the Whirlpool, I’d never thought much about going downstream on the American side until a friend raved about it.  I found an opportunity to do that hike yesterday afternoon after meetings in nearby Tonawanda (To the Native American tribes who lived in this area Tonawanda meant “swift waters”, today it means “land that the power lines run through”)

      Whirlpool State Park and Devil’s Hole State Park are the next links in the chain of state parks that line the Niagara River downstream from the falls.  Opened in 1928 and 1924, respectively, they each remain largely what they were at that time and thus have that old park nostalgic feel to them.  Massive old trees line the upper trail that hugs the cliff line.  Old stone staircases, recently rebuilt, are largely the same one’s from when the parks opened.  Descending the staircase at the Whirlpool State Park you can hear the white water well before you reach the bottom of the stairs.  Glimpses of fast moving green and white water greet you through the trees as you make your way down.  As I descend I’m mentally calculating how many of these steep steps I’m going to have to climb back up on my return.

      At the bottom you have the choice of left for upstream or right for downstream.  I took a left and followed the Whirlpool Trail.  This trail follows the river to the wild whitewater that flows from the falls upstream.  It reminded me a lot of the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon.  Steep cliffs with rock falls, arid climate with a powerful, fast-moving river next to you.  It was late afternoon on a weekday, so I was passing people hiking the trail but never felt like it was too crowded.  A few college kids were sunbathing and smoking pot and doing whatever college kids do to pass a summer day.

      The Niagara River just below the falls is 170 feet deep, apparently as deep as the falls are tall.  Further downstream the depth at the whirlpool is 125 feet deep.  That rise combined with the narrow gorge, some twists and turns in the river and the sheer volume of water trying to muscle its way through this tight channel creates a chaotic white water scene that’s breathtaking.  The green water boils into a frothy, bubbling eruption as it roars by.  This is first class white water and I laugh when I see the no swimming signs.  Swimming in this water would be almost as dumb as standing on the railing upriver to take a better picture of the falls.

      The trail running alongside this wild river is rocky and you need to watch your footing in this stretch.  Memories of similar hikes in Sagres, Portugal, Camelback Mountain in Phoenix and the side trails of the Grand Canyon came back to me as I worked my way through a few particularly rocky stretches.  The overhanging cliffs in the gorge felt very similar to the canyons out west, and the heat of the day reinforced that impression.  The Canadian side at the river level is heavily wooded as well, and I could easily see this landscape as largely unchanged from the days before European explorers walked these paths.  The only thing that betrayed the changes were crumbling concrete walls and paths from a century ago.

      Still, this was the Niagara Falls region and even in this pristine environment the illusion was eventually encroached upon by power boats and jet skis running the rapids, an overhead tram line, zip lines and buildings overlooking the white water on the Canadian side and further upstream on the American side.  Pristine beauty is nice and all, but it’s better when you can sprinkle a little profiteering on top.  I was thankful there wasn’t a Margaritaville food truck parked on a barge along the path.  Maybe they save that for the weekend traffic.  Anyway, rather than going to the bridge I decided to turn around before the end of the trail and backtracked to the staircase, where I then continued onwards along the Devil’s Hole trail.

      If the Whirlpool trail is notable for the rocky trails and white water, the Devil’s Hole Trail is notable for the cooling shade and relatively flat terrain the trail follows between the river and the escarpment.  The path is an old Seneca Indian portage trail, and they fought several battles along this ground trying to preserve that access for themselves.  In 1763 a wagon train was ambushed near this spot and 80 British soldiers and settlers were massacred.  That story seems to have faded into history.

      As you hike the trail you come across caves of varying sizes.  One of these caves is called both the “Devil’s Hole” and also the “Cave of the Evil Spirit” as bad luck seems to befall those who go into it.  I’m not sure whether that’s true or not, as I wasn’t inclined to do any spelunking on this particular trip.  Locals tell stories of rattlesnakes living in the caves but nobody seems to have ever really seen one.  If there are indeed rattlesnakes the chipmunks didn’t get the memo.

      I hiked up out of the gorge using the Devil’s Hole staircase that delivers you to the parking lot of that state park.  This staircase wasn’t as steep as the one at Whirlpool State Park, but got my heart rate up anyway.  The escarpment is very steep and the stairs switch back several times on the climb.  Reaching the top I followed the Niagara Gorge Rim trail back to the Whirlpool State Park.  This trail had some great views of the river and Canada and was wide and flat.  A few points along the way offered perspective on the lower trail and the power of the river.

      These state parks are a lovely buffer from the beat up poured-concrete roads, tired tourist culture and power infrastructure that make up much of Niagara Falls, New York.  The American side doesn’t have the views of the falls that you get on the Canadian side, but it’s still a breathtaking landscape worth visiting.  Hopefully some of the billions of dollars New York is putting towards Buffalo reaches the City of Niagara Falls, New York.  The city could use a face lift to make it a more attractive destination.  But the parks do their part year in and year out.  With no charge for parking or entry into the parks, it’s a great bargain for anyone looking for some exercise away from the crowded railings overlooking Niagara Falls.  For me, it was a nice way to cap off a week of travel and get some exercise before the long drive home.

    • Rust in the Water

      Rust in the Water

      In general we take the supply of water for granted in the northeast corner of North America.  There’s usually enough precipitation in rain and snow coming through this region to refill the aquifers, rivers and reservoirs that supply our drinking water.  This month we’re running a bit dry, according to the meteorologists.  After the spring we had I’m okay with a bit dry.

      Our ecosystem is designed to be resilient to a point.  But as the population grows we continue to test the limits of that resiliency.  Watering lawns, filling pools and a hundred other things we humans do increase demands on the water supply.  Desalinization is still too expensive a process, and frankly we aren’t desperate enough as other regions are, to be a viable option here yet.  Conservation is the key here.

      There was rust in the water this morning.  That usually means they’re doing maintenance on the pipes somewhere, or flushing the fire hydrants, or some other thing that turns our normally clear water into a lovely orange sheen.  It’s a good reminder that we’re all reliant on the system working.  Water, electricity, gasoline, food…  we have so much delivered to us that sometimes we forget that the supply chain could break down at any time.  Building more resiliency into our individual lives is one answer.  Just as we have a national reserve of oil to protect us from a sudden shutoff of the global supply, so we should have a reserve of food, water, batteries and fuel to ensure that we can survive for some period of time should the system break down.

      Such are my thoughts when there’s rust in the water.  Thanks for the reminder.  It’s good to have those once in a while.

    • Connecticut Capital Building

      Connecticut Capital Building

      If Hartford, Connecticut is a mix of gritty neighborhoods and gleaming insurance headquarters today, in the late 1800’s it was considered a model city.  Mansions popped up in the Nook Farm area, which rivaled Concord, Massachusetts with the number of artists and writers who clustered in that area.  Insurance companies were also popping up, and bringing massive wealth into Hartford.

      When Hartford was chosen to be the capital city for Connecticut over New Haven, the leaders wanted to build an impressive capital building to show that they had arrived as one of the great cities in North America.  Richard M. Upjohn was chosen as the architect and proposed a Victorian Gothic design to sit up in the hill adjacent to Bushnell Park.  Walking around the property, you see the grandness of their vision, even if they cut corners in a few places.  Marble, granite, stained glass and ornate fixtures show the wealth of the era.

      I’m not an architect, but I appreciate a great building when I see one.  Perhaps some architects find the building audacious (it was and still is), but its a great time stamp from a time in the 1870’s when Hartford was a wealthy city with some of the nations literary giants walking its streets.  Hartford is not that city anymore.  Poverty encroaches on many areas of the city that were once highly desirable neighborhoods for the elite.  The Nook Farm area is now the high school and apartment buildings, with a few historic buildings like Mark Twain and Harriet Beecher Stowe’s homes still telling stories from another time.  The Capital Building tells a story too.  Of wealth and privilege for sure, but also of a city that was finding it’s place in a crowded corner of the country between Boston and New York.

    • Winning the Lottery

      Winning the Lottery

      In 1933 an influenza outbreak spread across the world.  While it wasn’t considered a pandemic, it represented a significant spike in influenza-related deaths that hasn’t been equalled since.  The 1933 outbreak hits home for me; I’m told that my grandfather’s first wife, father-in-law and infant daughter Paula all died in this influenza outbreak.  So my own existence is tied directly to these events.  When Josephine Carmichael died, my grandfather Robert sought out Beatrice Morgan to help care for his three surviving children.  Robert and Beatrice eventually married and had twelve children of their own, including my father.
      The 1933 outbreak was a new variant of H1N1 influenza but wasn’t considered a pandemic even though it was a new variant and spread worldwide.  Perhaps in comparison to the one that came before it 1933 seemed pretty minor by comparison.  The worst pandemic ever recorded was the 1918 outbreak of “Spanish Flu” which killed millions of people.  It was directly related to the movement of people around the world following World War One.  Boston’s ports were one of the transportation hubs and thus the region was hit especially hard by the 1918 pandemic.  The Spanish Flu was unique in that it killed young people who might otherwise survive an outbreak that killed weaker people like the very old and very young.

      Pandemics, natural disasters, world war, the randomness of two people meeting and both paying enough attention to each other at any given moment to be attracted to one another.  Overall health and well being of people in the United States has improved significantly since 1933.  Infant mortality is at its lowest point in history and exponential improvements in medicine ensure more people make it to adulthood.  Childhood diseases that killed or crippled millions were largely eradicated in the years since Josephine died.  We’re all lottery winners just by being born, and being born here and now.  So I have a low tolerance for self-pity and complaining about relatively minor things.  There are plenty of examples of people around the world born into a worse situation than us.  There are plenty of people who aren’t born at all.

      Josephine had four children.  Paula died as her mother did of influenza.  Her older brother Robert died in a car accident when he crossed the line driving drunk in Virginia.  Her other brother died in Korea in the first year of the war in 1950.  Only her sister Marcia lived on, helping raise her siblings from her father’s second marriage until she herself was married and moved away to raise a family of her own.  I didn’t take the opportunity to ask Marcia a lot of questions about her mother, siblings or grandparents before her dementia stole that opportunity away from me.  But I’ll think of them, back in 1933, and the hardships they endured and the virus that they succumbed to.  I’ll never know all the random events throughout history that allowed me to hit the lottery, but I know about them.

    • Experience with Emerson

      Experience with Emerson

      “Life is not intellectual or critical, but sturdy.  Its chief good is for well-mixed people who can enjoy what they find, without question…  To fill the hour, – that is happiness, to fill the hour and leave no crevice for a repentance or an approval.  We live on surfaces, and the true art of life is to skate on them.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson, Experience

      Emerson was at the center of it all.  If Concord was the center of the 19th century literary world, Emerson was the great influencer; the magnet that drew in talented writers, or inspired talented artists to push their own boundaries.  Emerson and Thoreau, Emerson and Alcott, Emerson and Hawthorne, Emerson and French; always Emerson.  The father of Transcendentalism, which promoted the inherent good in people and self-reliance over institutional control, Emerson continues to inspire and lead well beyond his time on earth.  My own personal philosophy is deeply rooted in Transcendentalism.  Emerson is the wise old sage who reaches out from beyond his grave with his Experience:

      “Life is a mixture of power and form, and will not bear the least excess of either.  To finish the moment, to find the journey’s end in every step of the road, to live the greatest number of good hours, is wisdom.”

      When I was in college I took a course which dove deep into Transcendentalism.  I often wish I’d saved the notes from that class.  I’m no scholar, and certainly not an expert in the philosophy.  Emerson was a leading voice in Transcendentalism but not its only voice.  Ultimately we all develop our own operating systems.  My own is far from perfect, but firmly rooted in living in the moment and treating people with respect.  These quotes I’m pulling out are from the yellowing pages of The Portable Emerson, a book I’ve had for a long time.  I’ve never read the entire book, but dabble in it occasionally.  Perhaps thats one of my flaws; too much of a generalist, dabbling instead of spending the time to dive deep.  Conversely, I’ve done my best to live by the spirit of this philosophy even if I haven’t invested the time in fully comprehending it.  But these words I know.

      “Since our office is with moments, let us husband them.  Five minutes today are worth as much to me as five minutes in the next millennium.  Let us be poised, and wise, and our own, today.  Let us treat the men and women well; treat them as if they were real; perhaps they are.  Men live in their fancy, like drunkards whose hands are too soft and tremulous for successful labor.  It is a tempest of fancies, and the only ballast I know is a respect for the present hour.  Without any shadow of doubt,  amidst this vertigo of shows and politics, I settle myself ever the firmer in the creed that we should not postpone and refer and wish, but do broad justice where we are, by whomsoever we deal with, accepting our actual companions and circumstances, however humble or odious, as the mystic officials to whom the universe has delegated its whole pleasure for us.”

      Emerson wrote those words in the last millennium, I’m re-reading them in the next millennium.  Many of us are bridges between the two.  Born and living a portion of our lives in each millennium.  The term itself is nothing but a man-made reference to a period of time.  1000 trips around the sun.  Completely subjective, but meaningful nonetheless in the way that marking time is a gauge to indicate our progression through life.  A reference point to those who lived before us, with us or after us.  Ultimately we’re all going from here to there.  Making the most of here before we get there is all we can do.  And remember those who came before, honor those who are here with us now and leave the world a better place for those who come after us.  Live a bit more like Emerson.

    • Tory or Loyalist? (Depends on which side you’re on)

      Tory or Loyalist?  (Depends on which side you’re on)

      When you win a war you get to decide what you call the people who opposed you in the war.  The history of the United States is full of examples of this.  In the years leading up to and during the Revolutionary War those who wanted to break with the British referred themselves as Patriots and those who opposed them and wanted to remain under the crown were called Tories.  If we think that our current climate is divisive imagine living in 1775 when you had to choose whether to fall in line with your family or neighbors and take up arms against the governing authority you’ve known your entire life or stay loyal and risk being tarred and feathered, having your house burned down, or worse.

      Northern loyalists fled the colonies for Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island, and New Brunswick.  In fact, New Brunswick was once part of Nova Scotia until the population swelled with United Empire Loyalists relocating to areas still controlled by the British.  Southern loyalists fled to Florida and the Caribbean islands under British control.  Many took their slaves with them.  Many others returned to England.

      Being from Boston and having a fair amount of Scottish blood running through my veins, I feel a strong connection with Halifax.  When you’re in Halifax that bond with Boston is clear as well.  And there’s also a strong connection to Great Britain in the area.  Over 240 years since the start of the Revolutionary War, and there’s still a fascination with British royalty in all of North America.  How hard it must have been for the loyalists to choose.  Ben Franklin is one of the Founding Fathers.  His own son William was a leader in the Loyalist movement.  This of course drove a permanent wedge in their relationship.

      In contrast to the United States, Canada became independent using diplomacy instead of conflict.  They met amongst themselves to discuss it in 1864, and then met with the British to request it.  July 1, 1867 was the day that Canada was granted self-governance with the British North America Act.  I think many of the original loyalists who fled the colonies would have preferred a diplomatic solution like that had it been available to them.  Uprooting your family from a place you’ve grown a livelihood in must have been both challenging and terrifying for the loyalists.  For the Patriots it was a time to take matters into their own hands, birthing a nation through bold action.  It was complicated for both sides.  Taking up arms and fighting for independence is our American legacy.

      Growing up on the history taught in school in the 70’s, when the tories were “traitors”, the Indians were “savages” and Columbus discovered America, you never thought much about what life was like for the people on the other side.  It wasn’t until I was in college that I really started to see that you can’t believe everything you’re told about another group of people.  I wish a few more people would stop yelling long enough to learn from history.

    • Three Works of Daniel Chester French

      Three Works of Daniel Chester French

      While a lot of the attention in Concord, Massachusetts rightfully goes to the extraordinary writers who lived amongst each other in town, there were other highly-accomplished artists who lived there too.  One of the most celebrated is Daniel Chester French.  French was an American Renaissance/Beaux-arts artist most famous for his sculptures of The Minute Man at the site of the Battle of Concord and for the Lincoln Memorial.  These two works bookended his career and ensured his place amongst the giants of Concord.  In between, French had many notable works, but perhaps his most powerful, and one of his favorites, stands close to French even to this day.

      With the centennial anniversary of the battles of Lexington and Concord approaching, key people in Concord were organizing an event for April 19, 1875.  The existing obelisk marking the site had been placed on the eastern bank of the Concord River, where the British had assembled.  The western side of the bridge where the minute men had assembled to fight them was bare ground.  So a statue honoring those who fought the British was commissioned and designs were solicited for consideration.  French, who’s father was a prominent judge and the inventor of the French drain, was friendly with Concord royalty, including Ralph Waldo Emerson.  Emerson asked Daniel Chester French to submit a design, which of course was chosen.  French was 22 when he started designing the statue, and 25 when it was unveiled to the world.

      The ceremony to unveil “The Minute Man” as part of the centennial celebration of the shot heard round the world was attended by President US Grant, Vice President Henry Wilson, Poets Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and James Russell Lowell, Oliver Wendell Holmes and of course Emerson.  They were joined by an overflowing crowd of over 50,000.  Concord must have been a mad house that week in April 1875.  Ironically, the man of the hour, Daniel Chester French, was not at the centennial celebration, he was in Florence studying under another famous sculptor, Thomas Ball, who created the statue of George Washington on his horse that forever rides in the Boston Public Garden.  Much more information about French’s work on “The Minute Man” can be found in an extraordinary blog post here.

      If “The Minute Man” marked the beginning of French’s career as a renowned sculptor, “Abraham Lincoln” in the Lincoln Memorial was French at his peak.  When completed he was 70.  “Abraham Lincoln” is 170 tons of white Georgia marble.  French began the project in 1914 and did most of the work on this giant at Chesterwood, his summer home and studio in Western Massachusetts.  French spent a lot of time on the hands of Abraham Lincoln.  They’re very detailed and, it’s rumored, give a nod to Lincoln’s support for the deaf by subtly signing the initials “A” and “L”.  I’ve visited the Lincoln Memorial three times and each time I pick up something new.  I’ve never focused on Abraham Lincoln’s hands, but surely will should I have the opportunity to visit again.

      French died in 1931 and is buried at Sleepy Hollow Cemetery not far from Author’s Ridge.  I’m sure he chose this spot carefully as his final resting place.  With old family friend Emerson at the top of the ridge in front of his grave, and one of his favorite monuments right around the corner behind him; his creation “Mourning Victory”.  The Melvin Memorial features French’s monument “Mourning Victory”.  It was commissioned by James Melvin to honor the lives of his three brothers who died in the Civil War.  “Mourning Victory” looks towards the South.  “Mourning Victory” was unveiled on June 19, 1909, 45 years to the day after John was killed.  Of the three brothers who died in the war he’s the only one buried at Sleepy Hollow Cemetery.

      As we approach Memorial Day I think more about this monument and the devastation that came with victory it created for so many families like the Melvin’s.

      “In memory of three brothers born in Concord who as private soldiers gave their lives in the war to save the country this memorial is placed here by their surviving brother, himself a private soldier in the same war.
      I with uncovered head
      Salute the sacred dead
      Who went and who return not.”

      On the day that I visited Sleepy Hollow Cemetery, there was a ceremony happening nearby.  A solitary bagpiper played, filling the cemetery with music.  I viewed it as a welcome from the  permanent residents, and I tried to honor them during my time with them.  Daniel Chester French, once a young man starting his career with “The Minute Man” statue just down the street from this spot, chose this place to be his permanent home.  His own grave is simple, not displaying any of the Beaux-art charisma that you see in his work.  Perhaps he drew inspiration from the simple dignity of his neighbor’s graves.  I would contend that that quiet dignity is present in all his great works, and inspires us to this day.

    • Now Comes Good Sailing

      Now Comes Good Sailing

      I’m not sure how I’ll go peacefully into the night, but I hope it’s a long time from now.  When my time comes I hope my last words are as interesting as those of Henry David Thoreau, who, in addition to saying “Now comes good sailing“, added “Moose” and “Indian“.  I’m no expert on Thoreau, but as I understand it he had visited Maine and seen both, and said it would be a lovely place to be buried.

      Thoreau is one of the many interesting people to have come out of Concord, Massachusetts.  Born in 1817, and dying in 1862, he lived a bold life in his 44 years.  Of the greats on Author’s Ridge at Sleepy Hollow Cemetery – Thoreau, Louisa May Alcott, Nathanial Hawthorn and Ralph Waldo Emerson, Thoreau died first.  Hawthorn followed him to the ridge two year later, Emerson twenty years later and finally Alcott in 1888.  There were other legends in Concord at this time, but these four shared a connection in life and the same ground in death.

      Environmentalist, abolitionist, surveyor, handyman, pencil maker, writer, traveler – it seems he would an interesting guy to have an speak with.  I’d love to have been canoeing with Thoreau and Hawthorne to hear some of their conversations.  I’d love to have been at the table at The Old Manse when Thoreau and Emerson got together.  When Emerson traveled Thoreau lived at Emerson’s house.  He lived on Emerson’s land at Walden Pond, where he famously wrote Walden.  He wrote about other places he’d visited – Mount Katahdin in Maine, Cape Cod, his journey up the Concord and Merrimack Rivers.  He also visited Niagara Falls, Quebec, Montreal, and other points in North America.  He never traveled overseas, and he never married.

      Walden was his great work.  The book that influenced me and so many others.  I’m overdue to read it again.  Like many books on my list it waits patiently for another day.  Thoreau might have pointed out that I’ve got to decide what to eliminate to give myself that time.  He didn’t have a television or a smart phone to distract him, but life in 1854 was not without distraction.  The nation was dividing and heading towards civil war.  People lived harder lives.  Henry’s brother died from a shaving cut.  And Henry died young too, but he squeezed immortality out of his 44 years.

      Now comes good sailing.  What an interesting thing to say on your death bed.  Thoreau was clearly interested in death and what awaited him on the other side.  I’m 6 years older than Henry was when he died and I’m in no great hurry to join him.  Will it be good sailing?  Time will tell.

    • Bucket Lists and Daily Life

      Bucket Lists and Daily Life

      We’re in the mad dash now.  Kids in college, new job ramping up, house showing need for repairs, retirement saving, mileage on the cars, Bodhi needing more meds, appliances acting up, stuff accumulating, stuff we seemingly need, stuff we definitely don’t need, should we stay or should we go now?  Time ticking along.  Here we are: This American life as we’ve built it.  Domestic bliss.

      Is that a spaghetti squash on the counter?  The kids are adults now.  I’m not sure I am yet, but they’re eating new foods, trying new things, opening their eyes to the world.  Sometimes they like what they see, a lot of times they don’t.  The world is a complicated nest of too much information, fake news versus real information, everybody trying to get more clicks or views or subscribers.  The drive for influence and income – power and money – drive behavior in the media and in social media.

      I was asked why I don’t get my blog out there for more people to see.  Why nobody knows about it.  Honestly I write it for myself and invite others to see what they want to see.  At some point when there’s critical mass in content maybe I’ll shift it to an e-book.  For now it’s enough to stay in the habit of writing and contributing to something daily (or when I can).  I believe that the people screaming the most for attention have the least to say.  I’d prefer to say something, even if the volume isn’t in line with the world we live in at the moment.

      So….   this post is all over the map but that’s where I want to be myself.  Keep the home and the garden and the job in some form or another but get out and see the world.  Sometimes the world is a flight to Europe or a hike on the AT or sailing from here to there.  Sometimes the world is a walk down the street to visit an old graveyard I’ve driven past for 20 years.   That’s my bucket list now.  Just get out and experience as much as possible in the time I have.  Maybe ease off on the booze and red meat and sugar a bit during the journey.  Eat more leafy greens or dark purple berries.  There’s plenty of advice online should I need guidance.

      Bodhi is clicking his way over here now.  He’s ready to go outside.  He sniffs and snorts and groans and shakes his head.  Time for me to get outside!  Time to go!  What are you waiting for?!  Don’t just sit there!  Let’s go!!  Now, please!  Now!  I know how you feel Bodhi, I know how you feel.

    • Sleeping Giant

      Sleeping Giant

      The Metacomet Ridge runs roughly along the Connecticut River from the Vermont border through Massachusetts and into Connecticut.  In that state, close to Long Island Sound in Hamden, is Sleeping Giant State Park.  This is a part of the Metacomet Ridge and for my money the most interesting formation in the entire ridge.  If you look at the ridge from the North or the South you can see what looks like a giant person lying down…. thus the name.

      This is considered a trap rock mount, made from flowing lava and forming a step formation.  In fact, much of the Metacomet Ridge is trap rock and geologically distinct from other mountains in New England.  The ridge was previously called the Traprock Ridge, which is more descriptive but not nearly as interesting.  The name Metacomet comes from Native American chief who fought with the colonists.  He’s better known as King Philip.

      This picture shows what the “head” of the giant and the upper torso.  Other vantage points offer up the entire body of the sleeping giant.  The foreground, is “progress” in the form of a Dunkin Donuts, liquor store, etc.  I’m sure there were better places to take this photo, but this was what I had to work with today.  The head is also known as Mount Carmel.  Right at the base of Mount Carmel is Quinnipiac University.  There was a time right before Sleeping Giant became a state park when there was an active quarry at Mount Carmel.  With the establishment of the park it ceased operations, thus protecting the park for forever being known as the Headless Giant State Park.