Christmas at the Creek

Ok, I know each time I've been up at the creek in the last few months, I've said it would likely be my last trip of the season. Nevertheless, I found myself rationalizing why I needed to make the trip this last week. As the snows had just come to the camp the road in was still drivable. Actually the road is actually off-road, but I won't get caught up in semantics. The point is, I've been playing around with a number of ideas for decorating. Twig picture frames, a magazine holder made of raw birch, some pine cones.. you get the idea. Something to keep me occupied over the winter. For that, I need materials.

I suppose I could have gathered more than enough branches, twigs and other stuff at Bear Mountain or maybe even on Long Island, but where's the fun in that? I was also going to meet John and get an updated bill for the clearing of the building lot. Anyway, with a day off, there's no place I'd rather be going. As usual, dinner and Applebys and a night at Johnstown Microtel. Morning saw an overcast daybreak but over the hours the sun burned through the haze. I set out for the Creek.

Rolling up to the mill, I didn't see John's car. I did see his worker operating a payloader. Although he couldn't possibly hear me, he seemed to know by my expression what it was I wanted. I pointed to the office. He shook his head and pointed instead towards the forest. John was in the forest. Indeed, the dirt road was frozen over and covered with a 3 inch coat of snow. Easy for Tru-Blu, my trusty jeep. About a mile in I found John operating a chain saw and doing some last minute timber cutting. He was very surprised to see me.

When we reached the edge of my camp, I noticed someone's footprints coming out of the woods. The prints went on down my path a quarter mile, eventually passing through my woods southwards on a logging road John had cut. Only one set. Whoever enjoyed their walk had not returned the same way. Curious. Anyway, we pulled the jeep into my cabin site and began cutting some small trees and harvesting the wood and twigs. I grabbed a few videos. The cold air stung my face. Thank God for the wool socks and all-season hiking boots I wear. My feet were toasty. With the Jeep carrying as much as I cared to take, we set out.

Up at the convenience store we sat down. I noticed how many of the locals, in their hats and worn workpants would come in. They said little but each gave a slight nod. That's the way up here. No handshakes or loud hellos. Just a look, then a slight nod of acknowledgement afterwhich the banter begins. These guys have known each other a lifetime I'm sure.

We spent a short while at the mill, looking at various projects, wood samples, and having taken care of the bill, we said goodbye. Not much time at the Creek this time, but worth every mile. As nice as it is up here in the summer, winter has a beauty all its own. Now, as it is the last week of December, I think it's finally safe to say I won't be up again this year. At least there's always January...