Weetamoo Woods in Snow

Today I tackled one of the hikes I found in the Weekend Walks in Rhode Island book I found at Borders on Friday. I convinced my friend Virginia (a fellow ousted exile from Home Depot) to come along. Actually, since she drives and I don't this trip wouldn't have been possible without her. Thanks, Red! (She has red hair.)

Weetamoo Woods is in Tiverton, which is across the Sakonnet Passage from our island. It's a trip of about half an hour or so from Newport and you need to cross a bridge to get there (hence the need for a ride). It's owned by the town of Tiverton, and it's named for female sachem of the Pocasset tribe that wintered here.

As you'll see from the pictures, it started snowing right before we took off on our trip, and by the time we got to the preserve there was a bit of snow on the ground as well as a good bit flying around in the air.

The first sight to greet us after we got out of the car and headed up the main trail was this equestrian scene - a big old horse and two ponies, one of which was a Shetland. They eyed us from afar and wouldn't give in to Virginia's calls to them.

The main trail in Weetamoo Woods is the yellow trail; it's the remain of the north end of the old colonial byway known as 8-Rod Road. There are a lot of babbling little brooks in these woods, and the trails mostly pass over them on slate slabs. The slate was hidden by the snow, but here's the first of the babbling brooks we crossed.

There are a lot of Holly trees growing along this southern end of the yellow trail. In some spots they actually grow fairly thickly. Here's one of the trees; you can see one of the many stone fences (a trademark of this preserve) here, as well as more Hollies in the background.

And here's a better view of the old 8-Rod Road, lined on both sides by stone fences. In this shot we're also entering an area known as the Laurel Tunnel. There are masses of Mountain Laurels in Weetamoo Woods.

Another babbling brook:

This one is crossed by a slightly more elaborate bridge. And as you can see from this shot, the brook goes over a waterfall as it passes beneath the bridge. Also, notice how brown that water is; there's a lot of iron in these hills, apparently. I could almost have been up in the moutains of western Maryland, where all the streams run this brown.

From the yellow trail we cross over to the red trail, and as soon as we hit the red trail we take a left onto the blue trail, which leads up to an overlook on the summit of High Rock. Here's the entrance to the blue trail.

Some thoughtful person built this bench by the side of the blue trail. I guess this is for the benefit of all the people exhausted by the climb!

The problem with getting up to the summit of High Rock is that at a certain point the path disappears into thin air and you're confronted with this pile of rock/mini-mountain. And it's covered in snow, which creates some treacherous footing indeed. I'm sure there's a well-blazed path to the summit, but for us today it seems to have disappeared beneath the snow. I was all for going back down and waiting for more favorable conditions to come back and tackle High Rock, but Virginia was insistant. So we persevered, and after much scrambling, sliding, and snow-covered butts and knees, we made it to the top. Here's Virginia leaping to the top:

Then she saw me aiming the camera at her so she did her "I can see for miles and miles" pose:

And as you can see, the view is well worth the climb.

Back down the blue trail and back to the red trail we come to the remais of an old stone mill.

The bridge over the mill stream is very different from the other bridges in Weetamoo Woods - a mortarless stone arch that is quite striking:

While I was jockeying for a decent position to shoot the bridge from Virginia walked out on the bridge and asked me if she was over the middle. When I said yes she lowered herself down for a cheesecake pose on the bridge. Never let it be said that I'm not an accomodating, even patient, companion on a hike!

Here and there along both the red and yellow trails there are cellar holes from the old colonial houses that used to lie along the old 8-Rod Road. Here's the best example, not far from the old mill on the red trail:

As we head down the yellow trail back to Virginia's car and the end of the hike, let's take in one more babbling brook weaving through the snow-covered rocks and trees:

I hope you've enjoyed our hike in the snow. This book of hiking trails in RI promises to provide a lot more like it.