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Birds, work, and Mt. Moriah July 12, 2009

Posted by Jenny in hiking, nature, White Mountains.
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From Mt. Surprise toward Mt. Washington

From Mt. Surprise toward Mt. Washington. This is where my trail section starts

It was time for another work trip up Mt. Moriah.  Stopped at Camp Dodge to pick up a pair of loppers—a nice sharp pair—then on to Gorham and the Carter-Moriah trail.  I feared man-eating vegetation after all the June rains.  That fear proved to be well justified.

It took me six hours to lop my way to the top, an all-time record.  (My usual work-trip time is between four and five.)  Since the first 2.0 miles of the 4.5-mile, 3300-vertical total are someone else’s trail section, and I covered that in 50 minutes, that means it took me five hours to go 2.5 miles.

The stop at Mt. Surprise makes for a nice rest and a snack before getting down to work.  This time of year, the sheep laurel is blooming on the open ledges.  I love the combination of reindeer moss, lowbush blueberry, laurel, and red and black spruce.

Even after all that lopping, the trail needs more attention.  It needs a lot of drainage work, the kind that has to be done by a crew.  I apologize to everyone for the state of the bog bridge at 3300 feet.   There is a very interesting section at the end of it that has turned into one of those lumberjack-style balancing contests where you try to stay upright on a LogRolling_Scheer'sLumberjackShowfloating log.  I tell the AMC about this on every work report, but I think they are shorthanded.  Overall, the trail is the muckiest I’ve seen it in about ten years. This is the kind of mud that makes an ominous sucking noise when your boot goes into it.  It is getting almost as bad as Adirondack mud, which I believe, after extensive research, to be the worst mud in the world.

Hermit thrush

Hermit thrush

On this particular trip, the forests of Mt. Moriah lived and breathed with songbirds.  The melodies of hermit thrushes wove a pattern among the hemlocks and maples of the lower altitudes, their songs looping from branch to branch.  The Peterson’s bird guide describes their song as “clear, ethereal, flutelike,” resorting to more poetic wording than usual.  The cousin of the hermit thrush, the veery, contributed a variation, playing notes on a similar mysterious woodland flute but in a



different pattern.  Peterson:  “Liquid, breezy, ethereal; wheeling downward.”

On the summit of Moriah, it was all white-throated sparrows singing and singing among the spruces and firs. Some people think they are saying, “Sam Peabody–Peabody–Peabody!”  Peterson thinks they have “several clear pensive whistles, easily imitated.”  The tune part of it might be imitated, but not the “clear pensive” part.  They pass through my yard in the spring on their way up to northern New England.  Peterson: “Patronizes feeders.”  (“Why, you’re just a fine little feeder, aren’t you?”)

White-throated sparrow

White-throated sparrow

The sparrows were flitting among the spruces and balsams that upholster the upper parts of the Carter-Moriah ridge.  It is a lovely world up there among the evergreens and the ledges, with views of three mountain systems fairly close (east of the Wild River valley, between Wild River and Peabody River, and west of the Peabody) and more unending mountains marching off to the horizons further away.

Black spruce on left and red spruce on right

Black spruce on left and red spruce on right

The Pencil Museum July 3, 2009

Posted by Jenny in hiking, history, memoir, travel.
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The first pencils were made with graphite from these slopes

The first pencils were made with graphite from the slopes of Grey Knotts

I described in my last post how I walked from Grasmere to Rosthwaite, climbed Scafell Pike (England’s high point), and then walked over the Cat Bells to Derwent Water, where I took the boat to Keswick.  The next day I visited the Pencil Museum.

Barbara Bennett 2I credit my appreciation of pencils to my mother, who always—and I mean always—kept a batch of freshly sharpened pencils on her desk.  She wrote all of her school notes, her grocery and “to do” lists, and her poems, in pencil.  The metal pencil sharpener bolted to her desk was faithfully emptied of its crisp aromatic shavings, and her supply of plump, clean erasers never failed.

The pencil was invented in the Cumbrian Mountains.  At the headwaters of New House Gill, on the eastern slope of Grey Knotts (2287′), just down the Borrowdale valley from Scafell Pike, wandering shepherds in the early 1500s discovered a deposit of graphite.  Legend has it (legend is so possessive) that a violent thunderstorm toppled some trees and exposed a mysterious black material that the shepherds found useful for marking their sheep.  The shepherds thought at first it might be coal, but it didn’t burn.  They did not realize that they had found an exceptionally pure and valuable form of carbon.

It actually was coal, what is sometimes called meta-anthracite, which is harder and higher in percentage of pure carbon than anthracite.  It is lacking in the volatile (gas) content that makes coal burn.  The coal food-chain goes: meta-anthracite, anthracite, bituminous, subbituminous, lignite, peat.  Anthracite can be hard to burn too, as well as low-volatile bituminous coals that sometimes cause “flame-out” in boilers.  (There—my experience writing about international coal markets is coming in handy.  Just ask me about thin-seam mid-vol metallurgical coal.)

The Cumberland graphite, also called “wad,” was found useful for lining casting molds for cannon and musket balls.  And around 1560, someone wrapped a thin cylinder of graphite in string and used it for writing.  And so

Assembling pencils in Keswick

Assembling pencils in Keswick (photo source: Cumberland Pencil Museum)

the pencil was born.    Borrowdale graphite mines continued to operate until 1890, when they closed due to high production costs and overseas competition, even though the overseas product was sadly inferior.  People had also discovered that clay could be mixed with the graphite for making pencils, or that other materials altogether could be used.

The graphite mines were dangerous and difficult for working.  Heavy lumps of it would be sent racing to the bottom of the hill on rickety tracks, with someone riding along the top of the graphite.  But it was valuable.  Cumberland graphite was said to be used in the late 1500s by the school of art that Michelangelo founded, and graphite’s use in the manufacture of ammunition caused its value to soar during the Napoleonic wars.  Thieves burrowed stealthily into the mines and extracted the material by night.  One smuggler pretended to be digging a copper mine while tunneling down into his neighbor’s wad mine.  For more information about these nefarious activities, visit the Lakestay website.

Henry David Thoreau, 1856

Henry David Thoreau, 1856

In the early 1800s, deposits of graphite were discovered in New England.  Henry David Thoreau worked for a time in his uncle’s pencil factory.  The New Hampshire graphite at Thoreau’s factory had to be mixed with large amounts of clay.

Pencil production in Keswick is now limited to high-quality artist’s color pencils under the “Derwent” name (no graphite involved).  The Pencil Museum gives a good historical introduction to this humble but important implement.  It is well worth visiting.  You can see what the museum boasts is the world’s longest pencil (26 feet).  I see from a little googling, though, that this claim is disputed by various pencil enthusiasts.

The pride of Keswick

The pride of Keswick (photo source: Cumberland Pencil Museum)

I particularly like how the museum describes Keswick as the “home” of the first pencil, suggesting the pencil’s possible need for domestic comfort.  The museum is located at Southey Works, Keswick, Cumbria CA12 5NG, tel. 44 17687 73626.

I spent several hours at the museum before it was time to catch the bus to Penrith, a larger town to the east located on the main rail line.  The next day, I took the train back to the south of England.

I looked forward to telling my mother about it.  She would enjoy hearing about the graphite mines, the historical development of the pencil, and how NASA spent enormous sums trying to develop a ballpoint pen that would write in zero-gravity conditions, while the Soviets sent their astronauts into orbit carrying pencils.

Borrowdale valley

Borrowdale valley