The mercury bounced off of 31°F shortly before 7am this morning. Light frost was evident on the cabin roof, though none formed on vegetation. I didn’t dress for the chill when I took the dogs out and did a couple of other chores, and that was intentional — I meant to shiver.
Two reasons — first, it’s refreshing to walk out the door in the morning and not slam into a wall of hot (or even warm) air. I want to take full advantage of that, even if it means being a little cold.
And second, this is a time for acclimating to change. Folks who live and work outdoors know that. They understand that bundling up at the first sign of falling temperatures is a mistake — it exacts a price that’ll be paid when truly cold weather arrives. There’s no getting around it.
People who live in Minnesota and Maine, Alaska and Da UP and other less temperate climes show us how it’s done. Waking up to 30°F is considered a damned heat wave, because they’re accustomed to much colder weather, much of the year.
Not only are they acclimated physically (which we can’t completely replicate in Ozarkansas), but they’ve adjusted to it mentally. Ditto their months of snow and ice.
The right attitude is warmer than any sweater.
With three fall-into-winters now under my belt here, I have a pretty good idea of what’s ahead. There’s no point in overcompensating in mid-October.
Donning an insulated vest was my only concession to the nip in the morning air when I ventured into the woods. Like slipping a .357 and a fixed-blade knife onto my belt, like carrying water and a way to make fire, it was common sense.
It seemed to me that it was time to put out deer corn. We don’t bait, per se, but we do mean to attract — drawing local whitetails in front of Mountain Two gives us a look at ’em before gun season.
It’s our sense that there are more deer here than in previous years, and that they’re healthier overall than they were just two autumns ago. The population appears to be moving in the right direction.
I hadn’t run the Ranger up the cut toward the summit in a bit, and my corn-scattering mission gave me a chance to check on the trail and surrounding woods. I found a surprising amount of windfall — not entire mature trees, but some damned substantial branches.
Just downslope from Dancing Tree, for example, a large widowmaker had crashed to the ground from high in an oak. A few yards beyond that, a massive hickory had shed part of its crown, leaving two big limbs hung up ten feet off the forest floor.
It’s next winter’s firewood, provided I can find time to bring it in before spring. The hickory will present something of a challenge, but from what I saw today, I believe I can do it safely.
This was a good morning to be up there. Fall colors were evident, if not totally dominant. The forest canopy was translucent, like a roof of stained glass. Simply magnificent.
I could say more about what I did today, but spending time in the woods was all that really mattered.
Deb’s windshield view from the crest of our road as she left The Mountain this morning.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB