My book is done

Photo by: Tim Bindner

Today I began my trek in the woods with an intention in mind. I fulfilled that purpose but also learned some things along the way.

I needed to shoot one more structure for my book to be complete, so I started out on a 27 degree day in search of this elusive structure.

As I descended Cold Friday Road, I had not seen a car in miles. I made my way down the narrow road, passing the horse camp-ground, across the tiny bridge and onto the gravel. I pulled up to the left of the gate marking the Disabled Hunters Trail, got out of my car, grabbed my gear, made my way around the locked gate and headed up the gravel road. As the crow flies, my destination was close, but the trail would take my 2.84 miles one way to get to my destination.

I walked uphill on the gravel road. It was eerily silent, other than the crunching of my boots on the ice and frozen rocks below me. The wind was blowing and snow was falling from the trees. The silence was soon broken and my mind imagined what I was hearing was not snow but a mountain lion, dog or even Bigfoot stalking me. This made me smile. I continued on until I reached an intersecting trail that had a notice I was 0.1 miles from the Indian Creek Shelter. I had been here before, and it was not my destination today, but I stopped briefly to admire this shelter and the view.

Past the Indian Creek Shelter was a newly painted sign informing me that 1.3 miles away was the Primitive Site. My destination. As I moved down the path, once again things fell silent. I walked, looking around, stepping over small water runoffs, rocks and tree roots. I was deep inside my head when my concentration was broken. Three deer spotted me and went running, more like hopping, through the forest and out of site.

Hiking down, up and on the sides of hills, I followed the trail and blazes until I eventually saw the back of the Primitive Site up on a ridge. From the trail I had my first view of the rear of the site. I could see the roof was covered with snow and a fallen tree lay on the back corner of the shelter. Light was bleeding through the boards, as I made my way up on the ridge and turned to face the front of the structure.

​To no surprise, the Primitive Site is aptly named. A dirt floor, with four logs holding up a tin roof, is all that comprises this site. Wooden boards enclose the back and two sides of the structure, but the boards have gaps in between them and parts of other boards are missing all together. The site is between the Chimney Shelter (2.84 miles away) and the Indian Creek Shelter (1.3 miles away).

Inside this roughly 8 foot wide, 6 foot deep site, there was a small wooden bench running the length of the structure. There was an old shotgun shell, a bucket on the ground, and reminders others had been there because of writing on the wall. Nothing else.

​This location was built in 1976 when the original trail was constructed and likely has much of the same wood and the metal roof from the original construction. Primitive, yes, beautiful, yes, a sanctuary if stuck out in the elements, yes!

I took some shots of the structure, looked around a bit, and then began my 2.84 mile hike back to the car. I was thinking of how it will feel to complete my book, but as I once again entered the Disabled Hikers Trail, I was reminded of a Tupac Shakur poem I once read. I was walking down this gravel road. No dirt anywhere on this road, and there I saw a tiny tree growing out of the snow. This was not on the side of the road, but smack dab in the middle of a gravel road.

I bent down and shot this little tree, and in that moment I was reminded that life does not always give you fertile soil, but regardless we can still all grow regardless of our situation or surroundings. Here is Tupac’s short poem A Rose That Grew From Concrete.

Did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete?
Proving nature’s law is wrong. It learned to walk without having feet.
Funny, it seems, but by keeping its dreams, it learned to breathe fresh air.
Long live the rose that grew from concrete when no one else ever cared.

I am now home, have submitted my book for printing, and sitting here reflecting on today’s journey and the fun I had on my book project. I have already begun outlining a second book project. More on that to come later.

Until next time,

Tim (Kilmer)