Unbased first published on 09/09/2025
One Saturday morning near 2014 summer’s beginning, I walked my woods. Land was timbered a year before and I had intended to replant trees that spring until blood clots in my legs and lungs curtailed strenuous physical activity. Walking those woods, climbing through timber tops, over logging machinery ruts and stumps was about the most strenuous thing I’d done for a while.
I’d started the day with brush spraying equipment in the tractor’s utility box headed for the ridge where I planned to do battle with Multiflora Rose, Japanese Barberry and Tree of Heaven. The tractor made rough going through timbered land and I nearly buried it in major ruts where simple woods road passage had sufficed for many years. Thoughts of new woods in the making lead to thoughts of a new woods road for access to it.
I set out to mark possible routes with a roll of bright pink plastic flagging left over from my land surveying days. I’d brought it along to mark the Tree of Heaven too tall to spray. Trees too tall to reach foliage with my backpack sprayer would need “hack and squirt” applications of concentrated herbicide later. I’d need to access my spraying work area reliably in future, so flagging a road took priority.
Lots of low lying wet areas in those woods. Trick was going to be finding the highest driest route with fewest bumpy surface rocks. I’d have to construct crossings for at least two streams and best locations for those needed marks too.
An hour, maybe an hour and a half later, hanging pink streamers had woods looking Christmas decorated with no pattern, rhyme nor reason. Avoiding low wet places had meant twice as much construction distance and damage to nature. Finding myself near Doghouse, I crossed Moore’s Run, pulled a bag chair out on deck and sat to contemplate.
Maybe twenty, twenty five years ago I solved another wet place problem. Rather than piling up enough compacted shale to provide good support and form a dam for flowing surface water, I had Hott and Miller strip off top soil in a shallow trench about eight feet wide. We filled that with shale back up to normal surface level.
Even in that near perpetual wet place at the foot of my barn hill, the road surface stayed solid. Draining water and several floods have run across it just fine with no damage. After hard rain, the road looks like a long muddy pond, but it’s hard and smooth beneath its thin coat of mud.
Same trick should work in my two areas where I want new road to cross drainage. Need to be careful not to disrupt too many roots which might allow high winds to knock down trees more easily, but instead of leaf plugging culverts and shale dams leading to them I’ll have a natural looking solid surface. Water can carry Fall leaves over my road unimpeded.
Finally, end of August 2015 things are happening. Hott and Miller are due to show up tomorrow morning. I’ll be there to see the beginning. I spent yesterday cutting fence where a new gate will go and freshening two year old flagging on route alignment. I hogged around on new road location with my tractor loader enough so the machine operators can tell where I want to go.
Maybe late next week or week after I’ll saunter out to foot of Baker Mountain without stumbling over tree tops and ruts. That’s important to an old man who can’t dance around woods and hills so well anymore. I’m looking forward to a new round in my fight with invasive plant spices and I want easy access to more wood for Doghouse’s winter stove. I can’t wait.
