The most bizarre sunrise of my life, complete with sunspot (look in the upper part of the haze band, right of center).
My 75th birthday has come and gone. 2023 has been an eventful year. As I've posted, I published my long-delayed AT memoir in April, and then my long-standing mega-novel in August. Between those two projects I traveled to New England, where I spent a month and a half hiking, including touching base with the New England National Scenic Trail and extending my personal continuous footpath to the state of Rhode Island (connecting my 27th of the 50 US continental 'states' [counting DC]).
I also had the distinct privilege of helping the Dartmouth Outing Club maintainers repaint the summit sign on top of Mount Moosilauke.
I even got a stripe of orange paint on my hiking stick as a 'souvenir'. Here's the video I posted at the time:
Since July, I've mostly been sticking close to home enjoying the sunrises and fall color. The bizarre sunrise shown in the headline photo ought to be made into a video. I took a couple dozen photos as it evolved. It happened on November 8th, and not only provided an amazing distortion, caused by multiple stable layers in the atmosphere, but it was also the first time I've 'seen' a sunspot (with the aid of my 40x Canon Power Shot point and shoot camera). Here's a look at a later image, with the sunspot very apparent, having moved above the haze layer:
The sunspot was a big one, at least twice the size of our whole planet Earth. When I noticed the spot on the images, I went to the internet to check. Real time sunspot data comes from NASA's SOHO (Solar and Heliospheric Observatory) satellite. At that site, you can customize a video of this huge sunspot moving left to right - at least until the Nov 8-9, 2023 data are taken off the site and archived. Here's the procedure:
Click on 'Dates' and a drop-down calendar appears. Click first on November 8, 2023, then click again on November 9, 2023. That fills the form with the start and end dates.
Click 'Generate' and the first of the images in the sequence appears.
Beneath the image click the 'Play' button and the animation scrolls repeatedly. Customize as you wish.
The 'authorities' give each sunspot a number. This one was number 3477, and here's SpaceWeatherLive.com's image with each sunspot annotated with its number. I've rotated the image to appear as the sun appeared in my photos taken at about 40 degrees north latitude (i.e., with the north pole at the 10:20 o'clock position.)
The venue where I witnessed this exotic sunrise is the same one where, on the exact date of my birthday, I was treated to this spectacular display--one of the most outstanding sunrises of my life:
It truly was a special day. Here are the two videos I took this day, no editing, just raw:
And as reported in the second video, I had just learned a few days earlier that I was going to be a grandpa for the first time (assuming I live until June 2024.)
At my age, I make no such assumptions. Just look at this:
Falling (tripping, stumbling, losing my balance, etc.) has become an increasing part of my 'repertoire'. This recent fall with face-plant on the ground gave me the honor of the first full black eye I've ever had. It looks a lot worse than it feels. But I've always said, with the miles of hiking I do on rugged rocky trails, and especially this time of year with the new-fallen leaves obscuring treacherous 'holes' and obstacles, that the way I will eventually die is by falling and cracking my head open on a rock.
The new Social Security Actuarial Life Tables tell the story. We 75-year-old men are a dying breed. And it is getting worse. Covid has accelerated the process. I thought I'd compose a little 'doomsday' message to myself, compiled from the stats on that site, just for fun:
But on a happier note, speaking of the new-fallen leaves. The display here on the Blue Ridge of Virginia did not disappoint, as can be seen in the videos. Color is all but gone now, as of the date of this post (which is the first day of firearms deer-hunting season). Yesterday I went out and cherry-picked some of the last of the best:
Still life with purple wood aster and acorn shell on red maple leaf
And finally, I did do one walk that didn't feature autumn leaves or rocky trail. It was a walk on water; and I've done it once before.
Love that Chesapeake Bay Bridge 10K run. It's the one day of the year when the American Discovery Trail can be walked between Annapolis, MD and Maryland's Eastern Shore. In my new 75-79 age group, I finished 20th. And there were 15,503 finishers (in all age groups combined). It was a chilly day, and the hassle of waiting in line for transportation to the start and from the finish diminishes the experience. But I will probably come back next year and try to beat my time. Or maybe I'll be walking it with my new grandchild. Never too soon to start the hiking life!
Iowa is all about corn. It's everywhere. Bumper crop, so to speak.
Colorado or Bust, days 65 through 69:
Among the last trails that I'll hike in Iowa are the Raccoon River Valley Trail, about a dozen miles worth, and three miles of Riverside Trail and Whiterock Conservancy trail in Coon Rapids The rest of this report is about what I saw along the roads between and beyond.
Here's the Raccoon River itself, as seen from said trail:
The Riverside Trail actually follows said river much more closely:
But otherwise I was on my own, entertaining myself with paint cracks and puff balls, country churches, rutted 'class B' (limited maintenance) roads, and just plain old litter:
Sometimes Iowa vistas can be boring. But not always. Grass can be fascinating, as can corn (as shown up top), and soybeans and sunflowers:
Beyond Coon Rapids I've chosen to diverge from the American Discovery Trail and the Great American Rail Trail, both of which make a big sweeping, arc SW to Omaha and Lincoln and then back north. I'm choosing the more direct route. I'm not much of a fan of cities.
Here are the GPS Tracks for the five days covered in this report:
Colorado or Bust, Day 64:
I had been anticipating this for days. I had a perfect day. My first view of the High Trestle Bridge came from the highway as I headed for the Madrid Trailhead.
The bridge has no real name. That seems odd. Many famous bridges are named to honor somebody; others are named for the location, the town or body of water they cross. This one is just named for its structure. Interesting.
The bridge is not only a day hike destination, but one for night hiking as well. Every evening you can walk the bridge in the eerie blue light of its iconic art work:
So now, without further yapping on my part, let me present a photo tour:
I just learned from Butch Niebuhr, American Discovery Trail's Iowa Coordinator, Board member, (Former Perry City manager and Viet Nam Vet), that the High Trestle Trail is officially an alternate route for the ADT. There's even a sign at the Woodward Trailhead:
Everybody's in. And that's as it should be. A hike across Iowa would just not be complete without including this crown jewel of the Rails-to-Trails movement.
Here's the GPS track of today's hike. Not one I'll soon forget.
Colorado or Bust, Days 60 through 63:
Hoy Bridge, near Rhodes, Iowa, was built in 1912.
It is one of the highlights of my Iowa rail trail hiking. There's a side trail to an observation deck. Here's that view.
The bike trail conversion was done in 2003. Doesn't look like the same bridge, does it?
Rail trail highlights are few and far between, but the five mile section of the Heart of Iowa Trail from Rhodes over the Hoy Bridge is one of my favorites. The reason: It's surface is grassy. My feet loved it, and it feels like a continuous linear park.
Bikers, of course, prefer the hard surface. And Iowa does a fantastic job building paved rail trail. It's not cheap asphalt slapped over a little gravel, it's good solid thick concrete slabs. For hiker feet that makes little difference. Paved rail trail is just road walking without the traffic noise. The benefits come with the narrowness of the corridor and the width of the right-of-way, such that a wooded buffer has grown up to shade the walk in many places.
This report actually includes the hike on the "330 Trail", which is a rail trail that parallels busy highway 330 and has little wooded corridor.
It does pass a couple of nice wetland preserves. Just ignore the roaring eighteen-wheelers and enjoy the nature.
That's not always easy to do. This poor Right-of-Way sign has turned rather despondent being planted there, unmoving, year after year, facing the traffic, and with its back to the nice pastoral scenery.
There is a five mile gap of road walking between the 330 Trail and the Heart of Iowa trail.
I had fun with signs in this area. I imagine that this one lists all the generous patrons who contributed to the construction of the spacious Maxwell City Park.
Along the road into Rhodes, it appears that some local has rather gone off the deep end:
After the Heart of Iowa Trail, there's a seamless connection in the town of Slater to the next trail on my westward route: The High Trestle Trail. That one provides an even better highlight, but for that, you'll have to wait for the next report.
Here are the GPS Tracks for this four-day collection of hikes:
High Trestle Bridge: Most popular trail destination in all of Iowa. Worth a visit. Stay tuned.
