The High Rollers of Kings County

Thump thump thump, my heart pounds in my throat as I take three leaps up the scree slope and brace into a tree. Wiping sweat from my eyes I look for cliffs through the lush jungle. After I left the car this morning, the sun came out to cook the week's rain turning the valley into a muggy greenhouse. The climbing is slow but at least the elevation provides a benchmark for my progress. I'm drawn up this hill to a silent cliff that flanks the ridge.

I spied the cliff last winter while driving back to Sussex after hiking with my dad near St. Martin's. Driving home through the Hammond River Valley my face was glued to the window staring up at the big swollen mountains covered in snow and hardwoods. These are the remains of old Appalachian Mountains. Smoothed over millions of years into high whale-like ridges and giant building waves ready to crash into the valleys below. In this High Roller Country, the names of the communities speak the narrative of the land; Hillsdale, Upham, Upperton, and Mount Prospect.

I jog up the last of the scree slope and reach the base of the brown cliff. Whoa. What I saw from the road was just the forehead of the cliff face. Below the canopy the cliff runs along for a couple hundred meters. In most places it rises over 50 feet to break through the canopy. I explore the base, skirting around fern covered boulders, and admiring the rock formations. I startle a turkey vulture which explodes over my head and breaks into flight over the valley, joining its partner in arching turns.

I scramble around to reach the top, finding a perch overlooking the valley. In front of me the Hammond River snakes below a wide green mountain. To the East I can just see the back of Saddleback Mountain, and to the Southwest I can see the wedge of Mt. Prospect steeply rising above Upperton. Pristine White clouds pile up into the blue sky and sun is catching mist rising out of the forest. I sit there imagining hiking and skiing trails coursing through these hills. Hardwood forests, steep climbs, ridge and gaps. The raw ingredients are here among the High Rollers of Kings County.

Growing up in New Brunswick, I didn't imagine places like this existing around here. I thought they were only found in far away exotic destinations. This little cliff may be no comparison to soaring cliffs of the Rockies but remember that this is not the Rockies. This is here. We are here. You might just find that the surprise in your backyard holds more significance than a tourist destination half a world away. Since coming back to New Brunswick I have been finding more and more wild areas just like this. The unexpected discoveries suddenly fill spaces in my mind the size of Mountains. And I've realized that I can have my life here and adventure too!

Unfortunately I forgot my camera that day :(
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DIY:
I encourage you to explore the High Rollers of Kings County. If you spend a bit of time driving (or biking) around the hills south of Hampton ( Titusville-Upham-Upperton-Hillsdale) you'll soon find a ridge or mountain that catches your eye. Pack some food and safety gear (compass, whistle, map, etc.) and go exploring. Remember that this area is almost entirely private land, so be respectful of that. I'll also warn you that bushwhacking is hard work, progress may be slow. It's also easy to get disorientated and loose your bearings. You're blind exploring now could someday help the development of trails in this area. The country roads in this area would also make for an excellent day of cycling.

Approximate Spring

Approximate Spring
Learning to Add and Subtract
Cold Rain and Warm Snow

I live in a house.
Drink coffee and flush toilets.
I drive cars and use stoves.

Living in dry warmth
Keeps Nature's Indecision
At bay, behind glass

Separation is
Clearly freedom to decide
In this transition

We can play outside
While Spring tries to makes its mind
Or just pout inside.

This month, I spent a Weekend in Halifax soaking up ideas; and another in Rumney, Hew Hampshire rock climbing above hardwood forests. The constant thought of climbing clings to my head like hair. Back in Saint John today, we went cliff exploring near Upham where the little appalachians were blanketed in sticky snow. A friendly man wheelbarrowing gravel in his yard showed us the way. "Follow the creek up the hill through the forest. Watch out for loose rock." As the creek ended we found ourself in a cathedral of ancient hardwoods. Walking on the hillside shoulder we imagined skiing the bowls and biking the rolls. Above us a stood a tantalizing 60 foot cliff on the mountain top.

More climbs? More potential? There are gifts for the energetic.

The Not so Hidden Valley.

In to the Hidden Valley twice more this week. I love showing it off to new people. Each time I get to relive my surprise when I first saw that mountainous rock and ice.

Saturday, December 20th.

With enough snow for traction the Connelly's and I were able to get deeper into the 3rd Side valley. Micheal found an iced up waterfall on the left branch above the cascades that I had never seen before. The waterfall was alive underneath its white icy skin. We stopped there to munch on our Christmas cookie ration and soak in that big old forest.

A trip to the Hidden Valley wouldn't be complete without a scramble up the 1st side valley. We walked up the drive stream bed and Bill lead us up some terrifying steep ice through the gully. The ice on the stream was just thin enough to kick foot holds into which was good, but then water started shooting out. The Hanging Pillar was there. But Bill was the only one wiry enough to scramble up to it's base.

Tuesday, December 24th.

By the time I returned with Joanna, Andrew, and my brother Peter, the snow was deep enough to ski in. Despite being Early in the morning on a holiday, spirits were high on the long uphill into the valley. We gave our attention to the 1st Side Valley (behind the Cabin) and worked our way up the somewhat dry river bed. At times up to our thighs in snow, we continued up the increasingly narrow stream valley. As we approached the cliffs we found a giant conical pile of snow that must have been funnelled down a rock chute. Like a miny avalanche! I swam my way through it unable to touch the stream bed below.

We continued up the streep rock passage listening to the water trickle below the ice. Up to our left hung the 15 foot ice Pillar. It must have been as big around as a barrell. We continued up on the iced stream bed until we found ourself in a narrow rock canyon. On one side 30 feet of thick white ice tumbled down into deep piled snow.

In here all sounds Stopped! All that remained was the electric hum of rushing blood and falling snow. It was a surprising juxtaposition to find myself between rock and ice. The permanence of rock, the transience of ice, and me in the middle. Yet we all grow and break down.
We slid back down the gullies on the frozen brook, laughing after leaps of faith that left us intact. Our early start was perfect. As we skied back to the car the snow began sticking like burdocks.

I'm glad the Hidden Valley is a little less hidden after this week. So much land like this to explore near Sussex. I've got some ideas about where to find the next hidden valley.