Being as itâs the beginning of the season and I am still struggling to lose my quarantine weight we decided to find something fun but on the easier side to do. This was an old haunt of my travel companion, but he hadnât been in years so his memory of which paths and whatnot to take was⌠more or less like a corrupted file in his brain.
It was an easy little place to find and used to be free but now it has a suggested donation box. If I remember right, it was $7 per adult, $3 per child, to be collected in an honor box as we went in. Nothing too bad. There were a few buildings here, a barn and what I think was an information center, but he was determined to hit the trails so we went off behind the barn and past the little picnic table where a group of young women who work there were chatting merrily. They welcomed us as we made our way to a path that wasnât quite visible from there.
And then we started to walk. It was a sweet little place with what seemed a lot of flat hiking trails, some with wooden trellises, and plenty of trees. Despite it looking quite populous from the onset there werenât any people here. I joked I better see some cool birds being a bird sanctuary and all. Thatâs when a blue jay flew down and my companion pointed, âThereâs a bird!â
A blue jay? Thatâs not going to be what I write home about. Theyâre everywhere and theyâre assholes to boot, frequently showing up at neighborhood bird feeders to terrorize all the other birds. I even had one stealing cat food at one point. From the cat. I guess theyâre pretty if youâve never seen one⌠and until you hear the godawful noise that comes from their little beaks. I snapped a photo for giggles but in typical blue jay fashion the whole thing just looked like a big old blur.
We saw a finch of some sort not long after â again my camera decided to focus on the branches instead of the bird beyond â and then we came to a little pond where we met what had to be the friendliest teenage Canadian goose Iâve ever met. He swam up to us with those big baby eyes but looking otherwise like an adult. Probably looking for treats. Sorry bub, no treats here, but you sure are a cutie and what gorgeous pics you take!
We ambled on, into the mugginess and heat, and began to take trail after trail like a deeply confused and highly caffeinated squirrel. I just went along, knowing my companion was looking for something but having no idea what that something was. Useless little facts like these often get lost on these adventures and who am I to say that isnât part of the fun.
I was doing pretty well but since gaining an extra 30 pounds I overheat like a tiny European car trying to make it up a mountain. Sadly for me I didnât have a gallon of cold water to combat human vapor lock. I did however have a far better prepared hiking partner who did have water and was now looking back at me huffing and puffing a bit concerned. So embarrassing. With several breaks I was able to make it with what I could have done in half an hour and without breaking a sweat a couple years ago. SIGH. Meanwhile the commotion was scaring off a number of deer at different points, and one birder. I love birders and that look their eyes all scream, âWHY ARE YOU SCARING AWAY MY BIRDS?â Theyâre perfect introverts, thatâs what they are. We continued on, politely, and somewhat quietly.
I had no idea that what my travel companion was looking for was a trail that scrambles straight up a bunch of rocks. So, when I was absolutely tuckered out we finally found it and I pushed my sorry ass to get up there. I havenât scrambled in a long time. I used to love it, but the rocks were out in the open and away from the shade of the trees and I was dying under the burning sun like a vampire. We took a moment to stare at âThe Islandâs largest property â that used to be owned by Nicholas Cage!â which was situated below. It was an old looking mansion with a big lawn that looked oddly reminiscent of a cemetery complete with the statue of a weeping woman. Weird. Did see a bird from there â a bird of prey of some sort â probably a hawk. I didnât have my long-distance lens because I didnât know I would be doing bird portraits today. Also, that lens weighs like thirty pounds and works best with a tripod which would have added clunky to the heavy.
We continued to scrabble and the view got increasingly pretty and increasingly terrifying as we were now traipsing like goats on a cliffâs edge that looked straight down. One little slip and weâd probably end up dead in the field below. That kept me moving. Carefully. In bellbottoms. Because thatâs what all the mountain climbers are wearing these days. During this process he kept looking back at me, assuring me it was close, and asking if I was alright. Weâre almost there, just keep on goingâŚ
Finally, we got to the lookout, the end of the trail. I think it was called Hanging Rock Point. Or something Hanging Rock anyway. I asked where the hanging rock was and he said we were standing on it. OKaaaaay⌠It was a gorgeous view. To one side was a big, beautiful wheat field, below were a few Gothic looking trees, and beyond a road wound around us. Beyond that was the ocean. Not bad! I took a shoe selfie and we chilled a bit before trying to back track and find the car â only afterwards having realized there was a map at the entrance. After this we were off to get burritos which were lovely six hours later after my heat stroke settled and the nausea dissipated enough to eat them. Got to love having a half-functional body!
I should also remark that on our way to said burrito place we passed the Hanging Rock so I pulled over into the beach parking lot to take a look and yes, yes it does indeed hang over the road. Also by the end of our little jaunt our bird sighting were thus: One blue jay, several finches, several robins, one very friendly Canada goose, one hawk, one heron, and one woodpecker.
