Silent Sports

I dislike noisy motorboats, 4 Wheelers, noisy motorcycles, snowmobiles, and other noisy sports.
Perhaps that is because my Grandmother influenced me so much as a kid. She had an old leaky wooden row boat we'd fish with and she'd grimace any time a motorboat went by.
The waves would rock us. She told me they scared away the fish.

We do have a 4 Wheeler as do most of the neighbors. It is a nice way to get extra tools to different areas to fix fence, or if you can't hike...to inspect fencelines and carry things like a chainsaw.
I have no use for motorboats unless of course I was on the Mississippi River. I like canoeing on the Kickapoo. I hope to try out a kayak this year...but there I go, off track.

I guess I really don't mind snow mobiles that much, they do stay on trail and rarely do damage to the surrounding area.

I just found out that the 4 Wheelers that abruptly make a horrible racket on my 'absent' neighbor's land don't have permission from 'him' to be there. I suspect that the drunken brother who is allowed to live out on the old cabin is allowing it. This the same brother who said his dog 'shot' him. That is a whole story in itself!

Their machines are not quiet, they are loud. They seem to delight in finding wet spots and shooting rooster tails of mud high into the air while their tires dig big holes. First they just showed up on Saturdays. Then it was all weekend, and now they are coming out after a large rainfall and 'muddin'.

I've always kept an eye out on the neighbor's land since his brother died and it became Paul's land...or his land in trust. The year they let guys 'hike' out there was the year the I walked into large plots of pot growing. That was a bad time.
Well, apparently NO ONE is supposed to be running around out there at all.
I am allowed to walk, hike, snowshoe, and explore as I have done for over 20 years.

During deer hunting season the Peterson Clan takes over and the place is mobbed by orange clad hunters.

I digress.
I went to get the mail with Charlie in the rain yesterday and we hadn't used our north hill route in a while. It used to be a mere deer path. And after the 4 Wheelers started showing up...it was just a trail of bent down foliage.

I was shocked yesterday.

I don't think I'd mind it so much except that the soil here is very fragile. When it rains, it washes away the rich black topsoil. In some spots on this trail, the tree roots were showing. But since it wasn't my land and I had a MIL and husband to contend with [think health issues and LOTS of doctor appointments] I tried my best to ignore the comings and goings.

In some places the trail bites down nearly 12 inches. I guess I wouldn't mind having the trails if they weren't destroying the soil. I actually was a bit grateful at first to not have to 'brush bust' to walk through.

However. After heavy rains again, the 4 Wheelers showed up again last evening and I could hear them roaring. This trail pictured is annoyingly close to our house.

Since the owner lives across the state, I took photos of the vehicles plates and where they were parked with my cell phone and sent them to the owner this morning. I sort of feel rotten doing that, but perhaps the owner should know since he rarely comes to this gigantic section of land.
He does visit his family farm which is about a mile from here on most weekends.

Anyway.
I enjoy the silent sports. Hiking, x-country skiing, snowshoeing, riding mules, and fishing quietly along the banks of the Great River.

I'd much rather see the land preserved and not mangled.

But I guess I have been spoiled by having access to the neighbor's land for so many years.

I will ride the trails made by these 4 Wheelers and check it out. At least I know I am allowed on the land and my mule's hooves do not cause that kind of damage.

Scratching the Itch

Mr. Morris was tucked under my arm as I scooted out the back door.  Hubby was taking his afternoon nap.  A pork roast was slow cooking and the afternoon looked sunny and bright.

We hurried quietly picking our way around the icy driveway and up between the buildings towards the woods.
Morris jumped out of my arms and began to race ahead of me.

He was happy.  He raced ahead of me so that he can have time to sniff all things important and watch me as I am coming.

In no time flat we made it to the creek bed.  I marched along the rocky strewn bottom picking my way over icy areas and areas of water.

I stopped to look at turkey and raccoon tracks.  
Morris tended to dog business.

We covered ground swiftly and headed east into the wind and through the valley.  I was looking for something different today, not the usual fair of water, rocks, and ice.
We found tracks of a person who had hiked on the snowmobile trail.  I considered taking the logging road to the back valley but it was solid ice.

I walked mostly in the creek bed.  Even with the rain and the snow melt, the creek hadn't come up to its previous level.

I cut up towards the huge dry run that ran north.  The boulders were covered in snow and ice and I could here water trickling faintly in spots.

 I decided to see how far up the ravine I could climb before getting out.

 I followed the ice flows.  Or...should I say where the runoff water had cut through the ice in between the boulders.

 

It was impressive to see what running water can do.  I'd like to be near this spot when the next big melt occurs.

I literally had to climb the wall of this ravine to get out.  It was not as difficult as it would be in the summer.  I was able to stomp my boot toes into the side of the snow and create footholds.

Thoroughly tired from the climb, I decide to walk across the cropland and stay on the ridge to head home. 

The walking on the ice crusted snow was difficult but the views I got were worth it.

 

 And Mr. Morris and I headed towards home.

 He is sleeping soundly in 'his' easy chair.

I scratched my itch.  I wanted to hike and we went for a very long tough one.

A few times I wished I'd had a mule, but it is still too icy.