Whitehead Crossing Again 01

5/12/14:

With 3 days off the past week, and also a relatively clear Sunday, I’ve had 4 solid days of hiking in that span. I still had to watch my back, but a set destination of Whitehead Crossing helped alieviate my worries there since the ways in I chose are relatively flat. I have a considerable number of photos to be processed besides the ones in the 4 part “Whitehead Crossing Again” posts here. So we better start with the text (!). Very good and interesting hikes each day, with much information added to the area’s snowballing mythology.

But we start on this particular day — I believe this comes from Monday of last week — at the 4th and least defined portal of Spoon Fork. I review my information about these portals in a 2011 Baker Blinker Blog post Here.

http://bakerblinker.wordpress.com/2011/11/13/here/

Nearby, moss decorated roots.

Heading up into Whitehead Crossing now from the south or Korean Channel direction, I found spring plants sprouting greenly. I believe this one is a corn lily, quite common in these parts…

… and here we have a may apple.

There are many things to notice in Whitehead Crossing, and here are two twinned trees that didn’t catch my eye until this day. Twins… a key subject to consider in absorbing new Crossing info for certain.

Poison ivy has definitely sprouted, and this is another good reason to focus on Whitehead Crossing for my May hiking needs, since I kind of know where it grows there and can avoid it better. For example, I knew there was some poison ivy around what I’ve called the Poison Gate in past posts, where this picture was taken. I have to develop that particular aspect of Crossing mythology in a future post, aided by future photos no doubt.

Nearby is a block shaped rock I also hadn’t really noticed until this day.

Perhaps strange (or Strang?) clumps of green grass growing to the east of No Title Spring, in a place I’m tending to call Vineland or Vinland now for obvious reasons.

And now just to the west of No Title Spring I found an object: What appears to be the rusted top of a spray can of some sort, buried top down in the dirt.

(continued)