“Anyone using Google Earth knows that maps are a fluid construct. As is life, in this mysterious realm. The esoteric idea that there is a false reality, is something we might do well to consider. But following hunches, is nothing to scoff at. Our native powers operate in the natural world, akin to seals slipping under arctic ice. They run on automatic pilot, when placed onto the right coordinates. It’s up to us, to position ourselves correctly. Our portal into earth’s fullness, is like a wish, at our command. Thank goodness! No magic potions required. Just a willingness to be alert, and listen, and turn off the digital world. Well, maybe not GPS. That came in handy today, to verify our coordinates, as we slipped behind some kind of strange wall. I’d been scouting, and watching at the edges of a designated wilderness, mostly doubting the well-spun, tired tale of its impenetrable, fortress-like stature. The weather indicated rain, which was why we’d decided not to work, so I was prepared for the worst. I admit, I expected to be cold. However, this was not the case. Springtime in Vermont is so confusing. I immediately felt weighed down by my clothing, and climbing uphill for the first half hour did nothing to alleviate the problem. We sat down, at the first leveling of ground, beside a vernal pool, sprawling carelessly amongst the spring beauties, trout lilies, dutch man’s britches, ramps and yellow violets. I was sure we’d gained enough elevation to proclaim a first ascent of “Gilmore”. But soon thereafter, the path divided. We began to descend. “I don’t think we want to keep going down”, I said, astutely. I had enough map knowledge of the area, to know that heading into a valley full of beaver ponds, might not be wise, without more planning. She checked the GPS. “Yup”, she said. We’re heading for a pond”. We stood still on the trail, in deep contemplation, as the stated goal of our trip had been to find a particular, elusive, possibly discontinued forest road. “I think if we went back and took the other turn at the fork, we’d do better”, she suggested. I immediately knew it was true. We reversed course, but not without noting a delicately cut steel maple leaf, painted red, nailed to a tree. “This must be someone’s ski trail” I commented, although I felt sure we were on federal lands. We returned to the fork and headed north, into a forest we dubbed “Mordor”. This has become my common parlance for forest terrain that is completely inhospitable to humans, but for the trail provided through it. Skiing it would have been gnarly, but interesting. The trail soon ran onto a more established byway, what might have once been an official, numbered, forest road. Maybe we had found it, forest road 81. One of two, listed in the area, and we knew the other one. Things go weird out this way, I won’t deny it. But my heart lifted, to be generally proven right. Generally, I felt vindicated. But, the most amazing revelation, was yet to come. As this mucky two track gently pulled up out of Mordor, suddenly our feet began to plod upwards upon a mowed, grassy highway. What? If you understand the term “cognitive dissonance”, you will know what we felt. As far as we knew, we were heading into no-mans land, into a wilderness tract barely tread, but by hunters or madmen. However, clearly, this vast meadow in the middle of hundreds of acres of forest, was under someone’s care, and curated, nay, sculpted with forethought and art. Following the path to the left, a rock of mammoth proportions was clearly the end prize. Climbing it, Lake Champlain could be seen, incredibly. Following the path the right, a short ascent through unmolested, ancient trees led to a knoll ... of such a view, I can hardly describe. Where the hell ... were we? If anyone has tried to define the word “portal”, well, here you go. I hadn’t set out to reach this. I just wanted to see if a road had been discontinued, a road with no obvious intersection with town roads, that I could find. And yet, Google said it was there. I guess, in the end, it wasn’t really there. But something else was. And that “thing” blew our minds.”
