Variable Speed for a Spicy Life

 Most people in these parts move through this world sealed inside a car cabin of metal, glass, and plastic propelled by burning the remnants of dead dinosaurs and plankton. In addition to being confined by the box, they are moving far too quickly to truly be in their environment. Maybe that's why they can ignore their contribution to altering it in a not beneficial way. Bikes are a great way to see your world, genuinely existing in it, while moving at a rate that allows for rating what you experience, to really see it. People have often commented on the wide range of areas I've not just been, but know, including hidden-at-automotive-speeds shortcuts and other gems or precious stones. On a bike, I don't merely pass; I am involved.

Bike speed is great, but it still isn't a natural human speed. Try falling off a bicycle at speed if you need convincing that we aren't evolved for that velocity. Ouch! See? And "see", that's part of what's traded for the bruises received from hitting the ground too fast. Humans are constructed for a fast run as a top speed. When, a few years ago, I started running in the woods at an even slower speed than that, part of my joy came from discovering places I'd lived near for decades but never seen. I could cover more ground than hiking, but I didn't avoid near 100% slopes, and even a lack of trail wasn't a deterrent. I was moving and experiencing at a human speed.

Go back another decade, when I completed my student teaching internship, I rented a room a ten minute walk from Greenfield High School. That was the start and end of my every teaching day, and it was also a blissful time for contemplation of my good moves and gaffs, but in addition to time for thoughts, I set the goal of noticing something new along that mile amble on every trip. That something could be the id number of a utility pole, the finish detail of a house, or just a particularly interesting stick, leaf, or pile of dirt. Do I remember them? No, but I was never bored on that walk.

Yesterday was cold, even by my standards. The high temperature was in the upper teens of the Fahrenheit scale. Have I ridden in colder? Sure, but I didn't need to cover that distance yesterday, so I walked, and had to curl my thumb into the warmth of the main pocket of my mitten only a, well, handful of times. Walking is warmer than riding, but also a bit less dependent on established pathways, so I explored a loop of both sides of Batchelor Brook between School and Lyman Streets, and a perk of Granby, MA is that I could do that 90% in the woods.

Neat woods! After a peruse of Open Street Map, I learned the state owned pine barrens are accessible at a dead end off route 202. I'd first been aware of this area a few years ago, but had always thought it was landlocked by private property, and I'll admit I tend to avoid roads like 202, so I'd never even noticed the side road on my few trips that way. Again, walking finds me the close to home bits I'd always omitted.

Sand plains are neat geology, especially if you're into trees and knowing about them. Pines like well drained soil, and sand drains really well, so pines like sand. Ok, "like" may not be exactly correct, but they certainly tolerate drainage better than other species, and trees like not having to compete for sunlight, so sand is a pine's niche. While I saw only white pine yesterday, I think this spot may be home to pitch pine, which evolved for an even more unique niche, with bark that resists fire well and pine cones that won't open to release seeds unless exposed to high temperature, like a fire! 

These days, humans tend to extinguish forest fires, even the ones we didn't start, so pitch pine forest is, to particular (peculiar?) people like me, pretty special. Yes, more exploration will come another day, maybe with speeding my trip to the sand plains entry with a bike, but yesterday, I revelled at walking speed. May this post be more than a forestry lesson to you.