Daffodiliness

 

The Daffodil Festival is in full-tilt mode. Parking was at a premium. The smart hiker gets in early.

Visit #1364, Saturday 23 April 22, 6:55-9:45AM, 5.7 miles, 7.6lbs. of litter.

Temps in the mid-50's, sunny.

With the Daffodil Festival going on in Hubbard Park, if I had any hope of finding a parking spot Saturday morning, I had better get there early. And I did. Other than vendors, the park was mostly empty and I found plenty of room at the northwest corner of Mirror Lake.

I had received a report of one of my detractors memorializing me on a trail. I went on a Search and Destroy mission to find it.

No matter who it disparages, it's ugly and has to go.

This was done on another birch tree. I removed it as well.

Walking across the I-691 walkbridge, I found some new graffiti. I was able to remove it quite easily.

I found Season of the Missing Glove 2021/22, Entry #16, Mitten Edition.

As part of the Daffodil Festival activities, there was to be a 5k road race on Sunday. When I reached Merimere Reservoir, I turned my attention to the road and walked north on the route of the road race, cleaning up the road in advance of the event. At least I THINK it ran up the road as it usually does!

I reached  roughly the turnaround point for the race and retraced my steps back toward the park.

Enroute I found a pair of jeans. I'd love to hear how someone managed to forget their pants...

Returning to the park and following the trail back to my vehicle, I found this newly fallen tree. With the festival in effect, I'm not going to be using a chainsaw so close to the park. I'll wait until the festival closes to remove it.

There will be no parking allowed within Hubbard Park next weekend so if you want to enjoy the quietude of the trails, find an alternative parking spot outside the park, or take one of the shuttles to the park and after your hike, refill your tank with any of the food for sale.

How It All Got Started

 In 1984, mountain biking was in its infancy. I was already a road cyclist, and pal Elmer was bugging me to get a mountain bike and try this new twist on the sport of cycling.

We cut our teeth on the trails in Hubbard Park, riding laps and laps on the trails. We slowly expanded our reach, but always came back to Hubbard Park.

Things were fine for fourteen years, until one day in late summer 1998 while riding alone in Hubbard Park I come across this:

And this:

And this:

Every fifty feet or so ALL the trails were littered with these trail blocks. I thought it was the result of some people doing trail cleanup, and they were going to come back in a truck, pick up the logs and branches, and haul them away. Nevertheless, I tossed everything aside figuring it would still be easy to find.

The very next day I again went for a mountain bike ride in Hubbard Park and everything I had cast aside was BACK ACROSS THE TRAIL. There were dozens of these obstacles; every one I removed would be back in place within a day or two.

Meriden, we have a problem...

I smelled something nefarious was up, and it wasn't going to be a one time thing. I started a diary, documenting every visit to the park by date, time, and location.

With my diary and frequent rides through the trails, I would record what cars were parked where, at what time, and who I saw on the trails.

I went public, writing a letter to the editor of the Record Journal gambling if the right people read this, I would get info on who was doing this damage.

It took a couple months until I figured out and met who it was.

When I met Len on the trail that day, he was carrying a hatchet on his belt. Now who would have need for a hatchet in Hubbard Park? As I asked him about what was going on with the trails, he became very hostile and evasive. While my evidence wouldn't get me a court conviction, I instinctively knew he was causing all this trail destruction. But how do I stop him? Len was much bigger than I and intimidating too. I was going to have to take a different approach.

I would have to relocate all the wood across the trails to places so far away that no rational person would bother to bring it back. Eventually, the supply would dry up. But that "eventually" would probably be years.

And while I wanted to keep the trails clear for mountain biking, I knew my work would benefit hikers as well.

It became an almost daily thing; two or three times a week I would ride through the trails, see where new piles were added, and once or twice a week I would return on foot to remove what I could in a two or three hour period. I could barely keep up.

And not only was Len dragging branches and logs across the trail, he would chop down dead trees with that hatchet, dropping them across the trails.

I went to the police as a cursory act, knowing this was not a pressing issue for them, and would be too difficult for them to do anything about. I was right.

And Len began leaving me "love notes" under the logs or branches, and sometimes written on the wood itself. He'd even put the notes in ziplock bags so they wouldn't get wet.

(Notice the reference to my then, recently deceased father. That's how I knew Len read the local newspaper.)

He even buried large nails in logs that would foul my chainsaw.

Perhaps now you can understand why I tried to avoid running in to him on the trails.

So it was going to be just me against him. He would vandalize the trails and I would clear them.

Our conflict reminded me of this Warner Bros. cartoon:

In order to counter his work, I had to educate and supply myself for our little war.

I taught myself to tie knots, so I could bundle branches together for efficient carrying. Below, I used a bowline, along with a half hitch and a bight. The bight makes it easy to untie; just pull on the loose end.

Some logs I was able to carry away, far away.

I bought a comealong for those logs too heavy to move. Leaving them intact but moving them far would make it difficult for Len to replace them in the paths.

Sometimes I would find trees Len was in the process of chopping down across the trails. I would preempt him with my comealong by pulling the tree in the opposite direction.

And after borrowing my friend's chainsaw too many times, I bought my own.

In 2001 there was a logging project in Hubbard Park. My selfish side was concerned with all the "fuel" that would be left for Len to play with. So I joined some more altruistic, environmentally and aesthetically concerned Meriden residents in getting the project halted.

Around 2007 I believe, some local volunteers were restoring the Halfway House. Len had no compassion for them, either. He stacked wood across the trail like railroad ties on the trail leading to the Halfway House so they couldn't get a vehicle there for work. Below is volunteer and former mayor's ombudsman Ed Seibert mistakenly thinking by just casting the wood aside, he'd be done. Len put it all back. I spent two weekends giving it all a proper send-off.

Our little conflict continued from 1998 -2008. In the spring of that year, the Meriden Conservation Commission was trying to revive a dormant Adopt A Park program. Sounded simple; you picked up litter at whatever park you adopted and filled out a paper report.

I had to be out of my mind-in addition to trying to keep ahead of Len, I was going to pick up trash in Meriden's largest park, just to get the ear of city officials as to what was going on? As if picking up after Len wasn't consuming enough of my time.

I also knew that once I added trash pickup to my repertoire, I could not stop, even if I succeeded in stopping Len. To me, that would be selfish. I was going to have to own it once I started. But nothing ventured, nothing gained, they say.

I also don't think the Conservation Commission had any clue as to what I was going to give them.

A paper report-that's for amateurs! What you see in my blog is what I was sending out to the Conservation Commission; photos and a narrative in an e-mail. The photo of my trash bag every week was my currency. It gave me credibility. If I was fulfilling my end of the deal, hopefully the city would reciprocate by stopping Len.

Things slowly began to work. The mayor got involved, as did some city councilors and the police department. The police department visited Len and tried to convince him to stop, even though there was not enough evidence to charge him with a crime.

It worked, albeit briefly, then he was back to his old behaviors.

Another five years went by.

In December 2011 I got this idea; what if I bought a game camera and posted it in the park to catch Len in the act? Then maybe I'd have enough evidence to get Len arrested.

I found an ideal location and didn't have to bait him; we had already been going back and forth for a few weeks with this one particular log. I bought TWO cameras; one to watch the trail and another to watch the first camera in case it was discovered. Yeah; I can be sneaky!

It only took 48 hours after my first attempt, that I caught him on video.

When I put it in my report I received a reply; the shot was too far away to positively identify him. So I moved the cameras closer and caught him again, this time a mere 24 hours later.

Some time passed before I was told the police department was now satisfied I might have enough evidence to charge Len. I was asked to meet with them.

So I took time off from work early one morning and drove down to the police department and met with Sgt. Murphy. Parking is somewhat confusing on West Main Street with all the restrictions but I was careful to park in a legal spot. Apparently I wasn't careful enough; when I returned to my van I had received a ticket for parking in a handicapped spot. That was another +$100 "invested" in this project!

Quite a long period of time passed and one day there was a knock on my door. A police officer handed me a subpoena to testify; Len was being charged with Creating A Public Disturbance. I'm assuming he chose to plead not guilty rather than pay the fine which is why there was a court date.

I took another day off from work to attend the court session, in 2012 or 2013.

In court, Len, Sgt. Murphy, and I appeared. After the prosecutor read the police report, and presumably with Len seeing me there ready and waiting to present my evidence, he plead guilty.

After that, I went from direct e-mail reports to the blog you're reading.

You would think that would be the end of it. Not quite.

While greatly diminished, Len would occasionally toss a log or branch across the trail. Not enough to be a nuisance but enough to be a reminder he was still there.

This went on for a few more years then trailed off to nothing.

I used to joke with a friend of mine; when I was old, feeble, and in a nursing home, I'd wind up with Len as my roommate.

It was not to be.

Leonard Sobieski passed away on April 10th, 2022.

Rest in peace.

Another Weekend Trifecta

Chilly winds whipped up Merimere Reservoir on Easter Sunday. Good Friday and Saturday were not as chilly, but all three days were fine for hiking, or trail maintenance.

Visit #1361, Good Friday, 15 April 22, 7:15-10:45AM, 5.0 miles, 9.2lbs. of litter.

Temps in the mid-50's to 60's, sunny and pleasant.

Visit #1362, Saturday 16 April 22, 6:00-8:25AM, 4.6 miles, 4.5lbs. of litter.

Temps in the 50's, mostly cloudy with rain starting in the early evening.

Visit 1363, Easter Sunday, 17 April 22, 11:50AM-2:40PM, 4.4 miles, 4.6lbs. of litter.

Temps in the 50's with a brisk, chilly breeze.

On Good Friday I took advantage of the day off from work to continue trimming overhanging branches on the road up to East/West Peak. I made good progress again, reaching the north end of Merimere Reservoir before I stopped and switched to regular trail duties.

I took a peak over the spillway at the north end of Merimere Reservoir- how many turtles working on their tan do you count? (Click on the photo for a closer look.)

Walking along the road on Friday, I spotted a number of trees with Caution tape wrapped around them. The trees didn't look particularly dead, leaning, or whatever. When I saw the first tree, I thought the tape was mere foolery, so I removed it. Same with the second tree. When I saw the THIRD tree, I began to think this was something legit and maybe the trees are scheduled for removal for a reason I can't figure out. So I stopped removing the tape. Ooops!

A couple mountain bikers took advantage of the holiday and head up the road, no doubt to those illegally built mountain bike trails that have become enormously popular in Hubbard Park.

At Castle Craig, I policed the parking lot of litter, and noticed some new graffiti on the electrical transformer. I used the tools with me to remove it.

Goof Off removed most of it.

I finished it off with sandpaper.

The next piece was more problematic.

The Goof Off did a respectable, albeit incomplete job and I had nothing to properly wipe off the dissolved ink. What to do?

I returned on Saturday and wiped down the area with acetone which partially cleaned up the mess, and dries quickly, too. I completed the job with gray spray paint.

Speaking of spray paint, one thoughtful reader of this blog generously sent me some money to pay for trail work supplies. I used the funds to buy more spray paint.

The remainder of Good Friday I spent picking up litter.

On Saturday, I returned to the park to cover over some illegal trail markings. They were extemely poorly executed, too.

While the gray paint should fade well over time, I'm not completely satisfied with the results. I may have to revisit this trail and up my game.

While hiking the above unnamed trail on Saturday, I noticed a number of fallen trees and branches across the trail. So, on Easter Sunday I returned with my chainsaw to clear this trail and one other trail of fallen wood.

While I won't bore you with all the Before and After photos, I'll show you a couple Before/After and the rest will be Before photos to illustrate the sheer number of items I removed from the trails.

And while clearing all that dead, fallen wood from the trails, I snuck up on a mob of deer. How many are there? Hint: Same as the number of turtles, above!