Over the last week we've been on summer vacation, traveling to beaches from Amagansett, NY, down to Avalon, NJ. It has been a fabulous week of visiting with family and friends, swims in the ocean, and much needed down-time. Back in May my friend Erin passed on to me this copy of Richard Preston's The Wild Trees as part of my amazing birthday package. I was ecstatic. Richard Preston had written a few pieces for the New Yorker years ago about tree climbing that I loved. The tattered copy of one sits readily available in my file cabinet at work, the same copy I lent to Erin two years ago. He went into detail describing the men and women who choose to climb giant redwood trees on the west coast and their discoveries. Finding out that he had finally written an entire book on the subject my eyes grew with eager anticipation. This morning I finally finished The Wild Trees and I must say that if you love trees and tree climbing, this book is totally up your alley. The passages rope you right in (pun intended?) and take you to a whole different world of exploration and wonder.I admit I am not much of a recreational reader, but I would highly recommend this book to almost anyone. As a result I've completely gotten re-fascinated with tree climbing. We weren't back but a couple hours from our last surf venture and I was writing a friend and mentor to see if he still had a climbing saddle to get rid of as he mentioned some years previous. It was a total shot in the dark but I figured what the heck. The entire length of New Jersey I spent staring into the roadside canopy. I got hooked looking at every tree and its structure, silently contemplating whether one could climb it. Luckily for me my old teacher was spending his Saturday writing up a tree inventory as part of his consultation business and replied quickly. He acknowledged by geeky arboreal tendencies with a cyber grin, telling me in return about a consult he had done recently that allowed him a fun climb. "Frankly the tree didn't need to be climbed", he concluded, "but it was such a nice tree". I could relate all too well, and grinned myself.
The last time I climbed a tree it was a glorious old oak. The date was October 21, 2006.

I swore to myself that day that I would never abandon my love of trees, or the conscientious skill of proper tree climbing. I guess it took me a little longer than expected to amass my own climbing set-up, but with a saddle and flipline in a garage in Jersey and some internet "retail therapy" as I like to call it, I'm successfully getting back on track. And it feels great. Better late than never I suppose.
Time to practice my knots. Happy Sunday.




















