Ever try starting a business? The whole process is overwhelming, to say the least. Add to that the fact that everything needs to be ready to go no later than June 10, to take full advantage of the summer season, and you've got craziness. The new biz, Adirondack Safaris, so far has one nearly licensed New York State Guide (that's me, the owner) and one part-time independent contractor who is also a licensed guide. I'm really glad that Mike wants some involvement. He's my ideal of what an Adirondack Safari leader should be: extensive background in education, excellent with people, and a natural with children. A month or so ago, I saw him help a little girl skier out of a rough place. The girl's father was of no use, and the girl was stuck on a steep slope, was sobbing, and unable to get up. Mike zoomed in, asked the dad if he could help, and then gently used his body as a wall for the girl to brace herself against--all done so patiently and completely. The only problem with Mike is that he's in demand as a kayaking and canoeing guide all on his own. But still, even on occasion, he'd be a tremendous asset to the business.

This week I finally found a graphics designer and illustrator to help me with the logo, business card, and brochure. It was a bit of a search until I found someone who is on the right wavelength. I think he's a good match with what I've got in mind. The photographer I have a lot of confidence in. Stephanie Leonard is the photographer at Gore Mountain and is just starting her own business as well, Hudson River Gallery and Framing in North River. We're having a hiking photo shoot with kids, parents, and a few older folks early in May, to get pics for the brochure. Now I need an accountant, liability insurance, and a lawyer to help me write the waiver. And lots more trail study so I can lead families and other folk on these half-day and day-long nature adventures. Oh, and the Licensed Guide exam on Saturday, May 13. Eeeek!

In other news: Spring is coming and is sort of here, except that it keeps dropping into the 20s at night. No black flies yet, but they'll be here anyday. Warbler migration is just starting, which makes woods walks exciting. And wildflowers: So far trillium and yellow wood violets.

Sophie is itching to go run in the yard, so I, too, must hustle off.

I didn't intend for there to be blog silence this week, but the juggling I'm doing is interfering with my leisure activities. As mentioned in previous posts, I am moving toward starting a business, and this week I ran into several obstacles that I wasn't expecting.

First of all, the business: I'm calling it Adirondack Safaris, and I am going to provide half-day and day-long nature adventures for individuals and families of all ages, including those with very young children. The woman who runs the office for the Gore Mountain Region Chamber of Commerce said that there is a huge need for activities suitable for young families, in particular. They can't go whitewater rafting, high peak mountain climbing, rock climbing, or do much in the way of paddling. That's terrific, because I have lots of easy trails and nature activities for young children to enjoy with their parents. Then again, I also have lots of hiking and climbing opportunities I can present to families with older children and teens, as well as birdwatching and wildflower explorations for people with those interests.

My obstacle, which seemed monstrous last night, is that the State of New York requires that I become a New York State Licensed Guide in Hiking, in order to lead people into the woodlands. This involves taking 2 Red Cross courses, one dealing with First Aid and CPR, the other dealing with Water Safety. Even though I have no intention of leading people in water sports, because this is the Adirondacks, there is water everywhere, and I guess I have to know what to do if the people I'm guiding get it into their heads to enter the lakes or ponds we come across. I don't have to become a lifeguard, thank goodness.

To be a licensed guide, I also must pass an exam, which has a general section and a special section on hiking. When I was at the library today, Autumn told me that she's a licensed guide and the exam is really easy as long as you know basic skills and how to read topo maps and the like. I'm getting more information, and hopefully I can study and take (and pass!) the exam in May. I need to have a physical exam--I had one recently and I was fine, so now all I need to do is find a New York State doctor who agrees.

So everything looks much rosier than last night when I discovered these requirements. It turns out I can take the entire First Aid and CPR course this Saturday, all day, in Glens Falls. The water safety thing I can do, the Red Cross said, by reading the book and taking a test on it. That sounds simple. So now maybe I can go back to worrying about creating a brochure (It's got to be all-color to compete with all the other tourist brochures 'round here.) and developing a business plan.

The seed planting is continuing and the weather has been so warm, I've been able to take many plants out during the day. I'm waiting anxiously for my peas to germinate; I've never planted them before, so it has me a little nervous.

That's all I the time I have for today; I'll try to blog tomorrow.

Life is so full, there's so much I want to do everyday. Every morning I make my list and set the priorities and then go like hell all day to squeeze it all in. I did take some leisure time this afternoon to reread a short story I last read in the seventh grade. Jack London's "To Build a Fire" is a story that's been in my mind all winter as I've hiked through the snow. It's a great story, and I enjoyed reading in the book of collected stories and novels that I borrowed from the library how London spent a year in the Yukon in 1897-1898, gathering material for his Yukon stories. He didn't venture far from his cabin or the tavern in Dawson, but lingering over drinks with all kinds of backwoods characters, he gathered all the information he needed to write convincingly about backswoodsmen and the brutal world of winter in the far North.

On a trail near home that I like very much, there is at least eight or nine different kinds of mosses and lichens. Mosses have never interested me, nor have lichens, but the beds of the stuff I've discovered have been so impressive that they've sent me running to the library to seek out more information. I found one moss bed that was as soft as animal fur. I wanted to lie down and take a nap! Do you realize how little information on moss is available? Online there's next to nothing, and there are only a few obscure books in print. In desperation, I ran over to the library and found a huge book, Reader's Digest North American Wildlife, which includes probably eight pages of pictures of mosses and lichens. I think they'll help me identify at least some of what I've found.

If tomorrow is sunnier than it's been, I'll go for a hike up to Nate's Pond. At least I hope I will. It's a climb, but not out of our ability. I'm a bit worried about taking Sophie up there, though. Today, we spotted a mink climbing down a big tree bordering a swampy area, and Sophie tore after it. My "danger, danger" voice that usually sends her running back to me did not stop her. One thing I don't want is for her to tussle with a member of the weasel family--with their claws and incredible teeth, not to mention the possibility that they might be rabid. Yikes! This needs to be discussed with Ken--it's hard to climb with her on the leash all the time.

When I studied the weather forecast for next week, I decided we might as well get the Glens Falls shopping over with while the weather is less than perfect. Warm, sunny days are forecast for the first half of next week, beginning Sunday. So here I am, blogging at Panera Bread in Queensbury (love Panera's free wifi!) right next to Ken's favorite store, Home Depot. He's there, and fortunately, I'm here, waiting for the last leg of our merchandise gathering, when we swarm down upon Price Chopper. The thought of that crammed parking lot and the store's jam-packed shopping aisles makes me shudder. I wish I could be zombified to help me through the whole thing.

Time to plant peas! I've got three 36" long plastic windowboxes that will hold this spring's pea crop. I've never grown peas before, and I can't wait to see what happens. I'm growing a 2-foot variety that does not need to be trellised. They'll grow right on the deck, away from the awakening woodchucks and other animals.

I bought a container of pansies this morning and paid too much--12 dollars. A note to myself: Start the seeds indoors next February and grow lots. One container barely satisfies my thirst for them; in the coldest, rainiest spring weather, they manage to thrive and look lush and colorful.

These days my thoughts are full of garden plans--Ken and I want to plant a sugar maple tree, a large container of Concord grape vines, four blueberry plants (in containers on the deck that does not have stairs because of the bears), and maybe some strawberries, in addition to our vegetables. Lots of hard work ahead!

My brainstorming activity is also channeled toward developing plans for my new business. I'm just starting to devote regular time each day to laying the groundwork and research.

Since we moved to the Adirondacks, I've been plagued by a ravenous appetite. In Boston, my body became hungry, but I wouldn't say I had much of an appetite; in other words, food didn't turn me on, with the possible exception of summer berries. But here, food not only tastes wonderful, but I'm hungry nearly all the time. Today it made me crazy, and I decided I've just got to allow myself to eat more because I can't stand it!

I've just finished reading a fascinating new book. Its strongest point is that it's a soup-to-nuts overview of the earth's changing climate and global warming. Australian scientist Tim Flannery's The Weather Makers: How Man is Changing the Climate and What It Means for Life on Earth is a must read, for the person who knows little about the subject, and especially for those (like me) who think they know everything about global warming and climate change. We've just got to make our politicians and other leaders wake up, because thousands of scientists say that we are approaching a threshold, perhaps beginning as early as 2010, when it may become too late to reverse disastrous consequences for our planet. The book is full of science, simply explained, and backed up with dozens of pages of footnotes.

Tomorrow we were thinking of going to the "big" city, Glens Falls, but I'm so tired I'm thinking I'd rather go for a hike (I thought you said you were tired?) and write and read the rest of the day.

A snowy day and a chilly night. We're due to go down into the twenties tonight, which means that early tomorrow morning, the mud on the roads will be frozen and will stay off of Sophie's feet and tummy.

Yesterday we tackled the "mountain" I've nicknamed Bramble Ridge. Two weeks ago we climbed it, but because I was expecting a phone call, we didn't have time to reach the top. So up again we went. Once again, I became so ensnared in the brambles, all I wanted to do was shout, "Help me!" With an even thicker grove of brambles ahead, there was nothing to do but tack south and climb up where there were more trees and fewer brambles. Only problem, the trees obscured the view.

When Sophie and I got to the top (what a speedy mountain goat that dog is!), I was hoping to see down the western side, but no! There was a 100 foot drop followed by a level plain and then another 200-300 foot incline of pure brambles. Forget that! Soph and I retraced our steps and headed for home. When I got there, I checked the US Geological Survey topo map and found that the ridge we climbed was 2,639 feet and the one that we chose not to tackle was nearly 2900. The topmost peak of Eleventh Mountain is only 3000 feet. That's where we'll head next, once the land dries out. The ground is incredibly muddy now.

As I'm writing this, a guy in an ATV has been bombing up and down our road. I wish I could understand what the point is. I mean, what is so much fun about riding an ATV? It's bumpy as hell, reeks of gasoline vapors, obliterates all sound, I don't get it and I don't think I ever will.

I think I have an idea for a tourist-oriented summertime business. I'm more compelled by the prospect of running my own operation than working for other people, although I fully intend to work at Gore next winter. I have the spring to explore the possibility and help Ken with marketing ideas for his business. Things are in such a pre-formative stage that I can't even blog about it yet, but the seed has been planted.

We're moving into a period of unsettled weather, it seems, beginning this afternoon. After two weeks of unbeatable sunshine and warm temps, the foul stuff will be a shock to the system. The weather people are talking 2 to 4 inches of snow for us tomorrow. I'm glad I didn't put my cross-country skis away.

On Saturday afternoon I picked up the local paper and was rivetted by an article discussing an upcoming "Quilts as Art" exhibit in North Creek, to be presented by members of the Adirondack Regional Textile Artists Alliance. The opening, the paper said, was scheduled for 5 p.m. Saturday. I glanced at my watch, dropped everything, and rushed out to the car. I'm fascinated by fabric art and fabric artists, although I haven't picked up an artistic needle and thread in decades.

The exhibit did not disappoint. I stood in awe before each piece, and was so inspired by the textures, the designs, the quilted lines, and most of all, the colors and patterns! I was in heaven. But there were no people to view these wonders! Less than a handful of people attended the opening--there were more exhibitors than viewers. As a result, I had the chance to talk to many of the artists. Ann (not to be confused with Annie, who, by the way, also adores fabric art) was there and I was so glad because her quilts are amazing. Before I bumped into Ann, I kept thinking I had to call her to tell her to rush over. It was fun to view the exhibit with her and to hear her thoughts on each piece. I'm going to try to go back with a camera and then telephone the artist to see if I can post a photo here. One exhibitor, Kris Gregson Moss, has a website. Take a peek!

When I padded down the stairs at six this morning, I was shocked to see a clear expanse of blue sky. The forecast had promised rain. So where was it? According to the weather radar, it was west of us and predicted to move into our area sometime after 9am. So I finished my coffee, dressed in a flash, grabbed the binoculars, and hit the trails with Sophie.

All winter we heard very few birds with the exception of our irrepressible chickadees, but for the last couple of weeks, it’s as if the bird world has come out of hiding. There are birds everywhere, and many of them have songs I’ve never heard before. I know eastern Massachusetts and southern Maine birds really well from many years of birdwatching, but the Adirondacks are proving to be a whole new ball game.

I’m sad to say this, but any serious birdwatching I intend to do will have to be done without Sophie. She doesn’t mean to make noise, but even something as innocuous as her panting disturbs the quiet. One must be absolutely still for long periods of time, and that’s not the canine mien, I’m afraid.

Now it’s half past eleven and I’m blogging while sipping on my second cup at Café Sarah in North Creek. The rain is coming down and the weather has turned colder. It’s the first day of the fishing season here, and it reminds me of my first time fishing on the first day of the season in 1962 when I was eight years old. I had my $4.95 fishing rod and reel purchased from J.M. Fields, a can of worms, and my three best friends with me. We fished below the waterfall at the South Natick Dam on the Charles River (Mass.), and caught probably 10 itsy bitsy perch altogether. It rained just as hard as it’s raining now, and was so cold that my hands tingled. Despite our raincoats and raingear, we got soaked through and came home looking half-drowned. I remember coming home chilled through and devouring at least a dozen graham crackers.

In honor of the day, and my keen interest in frying brook trout I’ve caught myself, I just bought a rod and reel at Braley and Noxon hardware, with help from the store’s #1 fishing expert. Now all I need is some sort of basic instruction. Maybe online? I just hope I can get it together enough to be out there tomorrow morning, hopefully in Kibby Creek out past the back of our land.