Trail Hound

Geocaching: The good, the bad, and the ugly

 Few things of any interest are one dimensional; and so it is with geocaching.  It's a game; a walk in the woods with a puzzle to solve.  Geocaching has gotten people outdoors and introduced them to the world around them.  Still, it gets rants and raves from others who share the geocaching playing field.

 First, the good.  Geocachers practice an ethic called Cache In, Trash Out, or CITO.  The idea is that geocachers leave the areas where they travel cleaner than before by picking up trash along the trails.  Sadly, some of the out-of-the-way spots where caches are hidden are more typically frequented by those with discarded tires, a six-pack and fast-food wrappers (or worse) which they leave behind.

Two weeks ago, on Earth Day, geocachers young and old teamed up with the Barnstable Land Trust to clear the trash and trim the overgrowth on Land Trust property on East Bay Road, in Osterville.  The cachers spruced up the place, socialized, and a few got in some geocaching in the area.

The Land Trust kicked off its geocaching partnership two years ago with a clean-up of its property on Whip-O-Will Road.  That event was followed shortly by a CITO day at Nickerson State Park, organized by a group of Cape Cod cachers. 

 But some conservationists voice concern about the environmental impact of the growing popularity of geocaching (the bad).  A statement posted on Wilderness.net, a partnership of the Wilderness Institute at the University of Montana, the Arthur Carhart National Wilderness Training Center and Aldo Leopold Wilderness Research Institute, says:

Wilderness managers have seen an increase in geocaching activity in many areas. And, while wilderness is for the ‘use and enjoyment' of the public the practice of locating geocaches in wilderness can lead to social trail development and resource degradation that would not otherwise not occur. In addition, many managers consider geocaches as abandoned property or litter and therefore, not allowed in wilderness.

 The National Park Service generally doesn't allow geocaches on its land because of potential danger to participants or trampling of vegetation by people traveling off trails (creating social trails), although it reviews them on a case-by-case basis. A few parks, including Acadia National Park in Maine, include forms of geocaching in their educational programs.

 The Leave No Trace Center for Outdoor Ethics encourages outdoor enthusiasts, including geocachers, to practice the seven Leave No Trace principles to prevent inintended damage to the environment:

Plan ahead and prepare

Travel and camp on durable surfaces

Dispose of waste properly

Leave what you find

Minimize campfire impacts

Respect wildlife

Be considerate of other visitors

The geocaching community has responded to such concerns by encouraging geocachers to check with land managers before hiding caches and to minimize impact of wilderness use. 

Then there's the ugly - not committed by geocachers but by nongeocaching ("muggles") vandals.  Here's a log posted on geocaching.com in December 2006 for "Hawksnest Cache," located in a beautiful spot by a pond in the woods of Hawksnest State Park, in Harwich:

I found the cache, but didn't sign log. Someone put a dead fish in the cache, the cache is wasted. I'll notify the owner.....

The cache owner was notified that maintenance was needed.  Since the owner wasn't able to respond, the cache was archived last June. 

As I'm writing this on May 4, there are geocaching CITO events going on in Alberta and North Carolina.  Ten were held yesterday worldwide.  There's an after-work CITO scheduled for Tuesday in Newington, CT.  Responsible geocachers practice CITO every time they cache, not just at events.  And with more education about Leave No Trace and vigilant cache maintenance, the good should well outweigh the bad.

Photos: Above right -  2006 CITO at Nickerson State Park (photo by Koneko, from geocaching.com gallery)

Left, Hawksnest Pond, Harwich - view from cache before it was vandalized.

2 comments »

Psst! Secret beaches revealed!

Kite Flying at Low Tide - Spruce Hill Conservation Area

If your idea of going to the beach is to drive your SUV onto the sand and set up the hibachi by your tailgate, this isn’t for you.  If you like to hang at the popular beaches to prove to your friends back at work that you had a real vacation, this isn’t for you.  Or if you find a quiet beach by buying waterfront real estate and then releasing the hounds on anyone who dares tread above your low tide line, this definitely isn’t for you.

  But if you’re looking for some solitude along the shore, with no required parking permits or fees, and you don’t mind a bit of legwork to get there, read on.  Unspoiled beaches with free public access exist, usually through the good graces of local taxpayers and conservation departments. 

Cape Codders don’t like to share their secrets.  Who can blame them?  The peninsula gets crowded cheek-to-jowl in summer hot spots.  Naturalist Robert Finch wrote a book a few years ago called Special Places on Cape Cod and the Islands (Commonwealth Editions 2003), and reportedly caught some flak for telling all. 

 Let's keep it in perspective:  Most of these places require some physical effort to access; although they’ve been written about for years, I have yet to see them the least bit crowded.  They lack amenities like porta-potties and visits from the ice cream truck.  And the more people who care about a special place, the better for its long-term preservation.  (Thank you, Robert, for introducing me to many of these places.)

 My favorite secret beach is Spruce Hill Conservation Area in Brewster.  It’s about a half-mile walk down the dirt path behind the Brewster Historical Society Museum on Route 6A, just west of Nickerson Park, where you can park for free.  If the museum is open, by the way, it’s worth a visit and perhaps a small donation.  The town-owned beach at the end of the trail, beyond the beach plums and dunes, is part of the continuous bayside flats, perfect for swimming and sunning.  If it’s sailing time at the Sea Camps next door, you’ve got a Kodak moment.  There’s a letterbox, a low-tech geocache that uses signature stamps and doesn’t require GPS, hidden along the trail:  Spruce Hill Letterbox.

 I discovered Crocker Neck on Popponessett Bay, in Cotuit, through a geocache: Crocker Neck Cache.  The Barnstable Conservation Commission has a trail map online:  Crocker Neck Conservation Area.  There are several trails which take you by salt marsh, sparkling Pinquickset Cove and wooded uplands.  You can follow the trails to the southern point, stopping for tidal pool and bay overlooks, or park in the third designated parking area down “The Lane” to access a wading beach.  Just don’t forget the bug spray. 

 Pleasant Bay in Orleans has some impressive property, but you can walk down to a free and quiet stretch of sand on Little Pleasant Bay through Pah Wah Point Conservation Area on Namequoit Road.  As far as I know, there isn’t a geocache or letterbox hidden here; sometimes a walk is just a walk.  The trail has overlooks of the bay and Pah Wah Pond.  The beach is a mellow place to stroll

Bookmark this page for the next time you want to get away from the crowds or to pass the secrets along to very special guests.  Share your favorite secret beach.  Then carefully cover your tracks.

Right:  Fuller Marsh at Crocker Neck Conservation Area

Left:  Pah Wah Point Conservation Area

9 comments »

Rx: Nearby nature

I was over the bridge this weekend - actually, over several bridges - attending one of those things white people like, a writers' conference, in New York City. 

What struck me during my brief foray into Gotham was how small pockets of nature, even the little park stuck in the middle of Herald Square or the terraced Penn Station plaza, with forsythias and daffodils in bloom, made the horribly crowded landscape livable.  These thumbnail urban oases provide a necessary pause to the city's relentless pace.

By now almost everyone's heard of Richard Louv's book, Last Child in the Woods, which explores research linking the absence of nature in children's lives to rising rates of obesity, depression, attention deficits and other disorders.  In an interview with Adam Voiland in U.S. News and World Report (April 14), "Why Kids Need a Big Dose of Nature," Louv says that even city kids can enjoy the benefits of nature by exploring where birds nest, where bugs crawl in alleys, or by growing a windowsill garden.

Louv says, "When I talk about nature, I am not just talking about wilderness. The people who study this actually use the term ‘nearby nature.' Nearby nature can be the clump of trees at the end of the cul-de-sac or the ravine behind the house. Through a biologist's eyes, those places can seem insignificant, but through a child's eyes that ravine can be a whole universe."

Back on the Cape, we're lucky to have so much nature nearby that even our most populated areas still have town commons where kids can run in the grass and follow an ant.  Most towns have conservation trails a stone's throw from commercial areas.

But there's something refreshing about a pocket park tucked among the built environment.  Sometimes it's just a cool place to sit on a hot day.  Or a bright splash of color against the drab asphalt.  Or a reminder that someone cared enough about a place to set aside a natural site.  There's always a discovery to be made.

And there's often a geocache to discover in a pocket park.  Here's one worth exploring:

Tupper House, Sandwich - Visit the location of the famous Tupper House (above).

The Tupper Family Memorial Public Park is on Tupper Road in Sandwich. The park is on the original property granted to Thomas and Anne Tupper by the Plymouth Colony and was the site of their home, which stood for almost 300 years until destroyed by fire on April 9, 1921.

P.S.  Thanks to Packanack for pointing out the U.S.News article.

Happy trails.

5 comments »

Wheelin’ in the years

 It's April, dammit.  Easter was over two weeks ago.  The Boston Marathon, with memories of sunburn and hyperthermia, is less than two weeks away.  So in spite of the cold gray skies and raw temperatures, I take heart from the few defiant daffodils daring to burst forth on south-facing slopes and plunge headlong into spring.

This past Sunday arrived with threatening clouds and temperatures in the low 40's.  Still, it was spring, so it was time to bring out the spring things, like bikes.  The bikes stay in the shed all winter, losing air in their tires and gathering cobwebs and mouse droppings in their gear.  There will be time for a professional tune-up later.  For now, it would be good enough to wipe off the detritus and pump up the tires.

 I suggested to my 11-year-old son that we take a spin up and down our quiet road.  Mirabile dictu, he pulled himself away from the latest "Call of Duty" video game and countered with a suggestion to go to the Rail Trail.

 The Cape Cod Rail Trail is THE classic bike ride, made even better by the make-over done two years ago.  Even a casual jaunt of a few miles takes you by cranberry bogs, ponds, woodlands, marsh and views of the bay.  Strategically placed ice cream purveyors make it a summertime hit with kids, too.

 We packed the bikes into the minivan and headed to Nickerson Park to start our tour - my son loves going through the tunnel under Route 6A.  A piercing northeast wind began spitting icy mist in our faces, and by the time we reached the Orleans line, a little over a mile away, my son had had enough.  Ah well. 

 There will be time for more rides.  There will be time to peddle the bike path along the Canal, watching cargo ships and sailboats cruise beneath majestic bridges.  There will be time to tackle the outback trail through the sand dunes of the Province Lands, and time for a pleasant seaside cycle along Falmouth's Shining Sea Bikeway.  And someday, maybe this summer or the next, there will be time to cover the entire Dennis to Wellfleet CCRT.  I keep planning on it.

Geocaching tip for a raw spring day:  Two micro-caches hidden along Route 6A in Dennis are quick finds, but bring you to interesting places. 

 The first is the "Nobscusset Burial Ground," along Scargo Lake.  The site is hidden behind a long arbor walkway, and provides a contemplative memorial to earlier inhabitants of this land.

 The second is "Not to be Confused with Draught Beer," a fun introduction to the spiffed-up pocket park and garden at the junction between Dennis Public Market and the beach roads.  Send the kids over to the playground across the street while you and a companion enjoy a game of checkers or chess.  A bit of Harvard Square or Greenwich Village near the bay.

Photos: Top - Bike at Herring River, Harwich

Bottom - Nobscusset Burial Ground offering, Dennis

7 comments »

In praise of the Punkhorn

I owe a debt of gratitude to the voters of Brewster who, in the 1980s, purchased 880 acres of conservation land known as the Punkhorn Parklands.  It was less desirable real estate then, tucked inland a few miles, but it's a resource worth preserving. 

The Punkhorn is bounded by kettle ponds such as Upper Mill, Walkers, Elbow, and Seymour, and encompasses a number of smaller ponds and cranberry bogs.  The ponds are consistently rated the cleanest on the Cape, and are popular for kayaking, sailing, fishing and swimming.

 You can pass directly enough through the Punkhorn on the mile or two of dirt roads, a pleasant diversion away from traffic, or you can lose yourself in the former Indian trails and deer paths.  Both options are worthwhile.

My favorite Sunday morning run takes me into the Punkhorn from the west, via Cranview Road and Black Duck Cartway, and proceeds north on Westgate Road to the main entrance at Run Hill Road.  The only challenge on this otherwise peaceful stretch is the humongous German Shepherd-Norwegian Elkhound-and-whatnot that often waits to greet me with a friendly, 130-pound slobber to my face, quite a surprise the first time it happened. 

One morning I decided to add a new twist to my route and split off from Westgate onto Punkhorn Road and Deep Punkhorn Path, an ancient track.  Deep Punkhorn Path is, as its name implies, deep in the wilderness - at least a mile from the nearest paved road.  It's narrow, it's uneven, it's everything a trail might be.  It had apparently held some appeal to the driver of a shiny red late-model Jeep, who must have watched one too many SUV commercials.  I found the Jeep abandoned in the middle of the trail, stuck up to its wheel wells in mud.  A plank was wedged uselessly beneath one tire.  I never found out what happened to that Jeep, or how long it would take AAA to get a tow truck in there.   

The Punkhorn is a geocacher's delight.  "Eagle Point" is the easiest and kid-friendly, a single-stage traditional cache with a dazzling view overlooking Upper Mill Pond.  For kayakers or Amazon-trekkers, I've hidden "Can't Walk the Walk" on Captain Daniel's Neck, between Walkers and Upper Mill ponds. 

Then there are "Calf Field Pond/Punkhorn Multi-North" and "Punkhorn Multi-South," three-stage geocaches that take you into the heart of the forest.  These geocaches bring you into territory where the importance of using bug spray and wearing long pants and sleeves becomes crystal clear.  I realized that I was an interloper on these remote trails.  A curious fawn crept up the hill to watch me while I searched for the second stage of Multi-North.  I was even more startled by the doe that appeared not far behind it. 

There are places on the Cape where the landscape is disorienting, awesomely beautiful and mysterious, inhabited by life that persists in defiance of human encroachment.  The Punkhorn, thankfully, is one of those places.

Maps of the Punkhorn are available at Brewster town hall, or download trail maps online:  Punkhorn trail maps.

Top photo:  Overlooking Upper Mill Pond from Eagle Point

Bottom photo:  Fawn in the Punkhorn ('wish I had the zoom lens on!)

5 comments »