Winter In Letchworth

          Waking as early as possible after a restless night, Dominic and I made it to the closed Parade Grounds Entrance and a dead end road that met up with the train tracks above the Upper Falls.  Without hesitation we parked the car and moseyed to the viaduct until the echos of the Genesee River were within sight 240 feet below.  The mist from the falls had froze among the gorge walls and overhanging trees creating a smooth glassy view that nobody could forget.

Upper Falls Birdseye View (Atop Viaduct)

       
          As we made our way through the desolate park I took a fresh regard as I had never seen "The Grand Canyon of the East" covered in snow.  The lack of tourists made this trip all the more enjoyable as we did not have to avoid their company or their high dollar sports cars.  There was a solitary makeup of the park this day that gave off such an overwhelming gratitude for the land and water; one that makes me think of the future and how I want to live my life protecting, preserving, appreciating and recognizing the importance of nature and all that it brings to us whether it be implicit or explicit, internal or external, physical or mental.

Great Bend Overlook

Upper Falls Viaduct

Climbing The Talus

          The sound of the tent zipper woke me as I tiresomely checked my watch, 4:45 am.  Time to get out of this warm cocoon and out into the foggy mist that surrounded our campsite.  The oatmeal was a bit cold, but it didn't seem to matter to me.  Such a minor thing as I knew that attempting to summit this mountain would be much more unpleasant than a cold breakfast.  We were at Warner Lake basecamp 9,345 ft. up in the La Sal Mountains.  The anticipation was overwhelming as I stared up at the snow-capped monster, gradually getting closer and closer.  The climb took a nice start with loose talus the majority of the way up which beat up everyones quads and knees.  Once we took a food break and rehydrated, it was time to push on to the false summit through the fir-aspen and pine-oak.  Only 250 yards split the difference between the group and the top of this colossal mountain; oh yeah and a great deal of summit fever.  Once atop, I felt it to be appropriate to call the woman that I missed most, Mom.  Nothing seemed to matter to me while standing at 11,642 ft. with a great group of people.  For once I was content with life.  Satisfaction.  My first real taste of what mountaineering was, was finally here.  Little did I know the fun part was still awaiting.  For approximately a quarter mile I slid down the crusty snow and ice mixture to the talus that I dreaded.  The bloody shins were just a small reminder that I was still alive and well.  As we traipsed back through the prairie I could vaguely make out my hammock hanging between the quaking aspens that lined our campsite.  We made it.

Moss Lake Hiking Trip

       Today a few friends of mine and I went and hiked the 83-acre glacial kettle lake known as Moss Lake Bog, located in Caneadea, NY just outside of Houghton, NY.  Moss Lake is unusual from other lakes or ponds in that it doesn't receive enough water to overflow the bowl or "kettle" in which it sits. Water only leaves the lake through ground seepage or evaporation.  The lake is home to an uncountable amount of catfish.  Along with the catfish are carnivorous plant and over 75 species of birds have been spotted.  The bog is protected by the Nature Conservancy and was declared a National Natural Landmark in May 1973.  


Below are some picture that were taken along our hike. Enjoy and comment!

  Sunset, Moss Lake 

 Peat Moss atop the water, Moss Lake

     Dock to the water, Moss Lake

 Sunset in woods, Moss Lake

 The entire bog, Moss Lake

 Signs, Moss Lake

 Sunset on shore, Moss Lake

Moss path, Moss Lake