(1) A habitat low in nutrients, and toxic as well.
Wow. Talk about a bummer.
Especially if it's your campsite.
(2) A brownwater lake.
Right, brownwater lake. And you'd find one of those where? Adjoining that toxic campsite, my friend. Adjoining.
Hey, where are you backpacking anyway?
Other words that come to mind are acidic, tannins, and humic derivatives. Humic derivatives, of which humic acid is one, birthed by decomposing vegetation such as is found in ponds with peat-filled margins. And you know where you find those? Bogs.
Go look up bog if you want to ruin a nice day. Or any day. Oh god now I'm getting depressed again.
Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? Been there, decayed quietly.
Etc...
so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction definitions: outdoor terms fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves boyb: dave's little guide to backpacks snorpy bits: nibbling away at your sanity last seen receding: missives from a certain mobile homer noseyjoe: purposefully poking my proboscis into technicals
(1) A raised bog is something you're unlikely to meet in person, especially if you avoid wet flatlands, and keep at least a minimal a lookout over your shoulder, though very few of them bogs these days have any real incentive or energy to get up and chase hikers any more. Mostly they just lie there and enjoy being mucky.
Mostly, as far as anyone can tell, raised bogs begin life as depressions, like maybe a pothole containing a huge chunk of ice broken off a receding glacier. After a while, things begin growing in the wetness, and by then it's a sort of pond. With time things die as they do, and sink, and rot. This can continue for a distressingly long time. But rot builds relentlessly, and the pond fills in, and then you get your grasses, forbs, shrubs, and trees, and so on.
They all die too, and rot, and build up, and before you know it (like several thousand years) it's all filled in with what looks like soil with all kinds of things growing there, but still wettish and mucky, and whatever it is that is secretly hiding way down below gently transforms into peat, peat being yet another name for "partially decayed vegetation or organic matter", according to Wikipedia, what knows everything.
What this has to do with hiking or backpacking is anybody's guess, since no sane person would try walking around in bogs of any kind, but just in case, 'K?
If you find the landscape sort of sucking at your feet, and trying to climb your legs, well, it may be that you are in a bog and are actually sinking. Not that it's climbing up your legs and trying to eat you, but that you are sinking into the landscape, so it may be a good time to decide on a plan of action, one very common one being just to go with the flow and provide essential nutrients to this poor place, the nutrients you carry in your body, and by you yourself dying and rotting, contribute to the local ecology, which some might consider a bit more restful than keeping up with all the walking already, moreso if your pack is too heavy.
No more walking. Think about it. Could be an option. Join the peat. Rest your feet.
(2) According to the experts though..."Ombrophilous mire in which peat accumulation at the center of the bog is greater than at its edges, giving rise to a cross-section resembling an inverted saucer. The central raised portion is above the natural groundwater level, becomes solely dependent upon precipitation (ombrotrophic) and is extremely low in nutrients."
(3) Or some other experts..."A bog that has grown above its place of origin, whose center is higher than the margins and whose surface is convex. Growth is by deposition of peat. Water is supplied by rain or by capillary action in the peat. There is usually one or several very acid ponds near the center and around the rim is a sedgy channel (lagg) where water collects and flows away."
So hey. There you are. Happy now?
Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? Never raised at all. Still fully mucked.
so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction definitions: outdoor terms fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves boyb: dave's little guide to backpacks snorpy bits: nibbling away at your sanity last seen receding: missives from a certain mobile homer noseyjoe: purposefully poking my proboscis into technicals
(1) If you think a swamp is the big time, then back swamp is a step down, a huge step down. Back swamp is somewhere you don't want to be, ever, never.
Captain John Smith, referring to Virginia way back when, first used the word "swamp" because the land there resembled a spongy fungus, or possibly a morass. (From Old Norse or Middle English or Middle Dutch or Middle Low German, one of them or all of them, probably with a heavy emphasis on "low", and "morass".) My ass, your ass, morass, and so on, all on the line, sucky and yucky. Grabbing at your feet if you get anywhere near.
Poor man, that Captain John Smith. He could have been the original Swamp Yankee if only he'd lived farther north. No such luck.
So anyway, compared to a swamp a back swamp is much, much less impressive, even with glitter sprinkled on it.
You may say that a back swamp is a marshy low area along a river, but not right next to it. No, not quite up on stage. Not up to it. Its name is never up there in lights, and its fame even less so.
It is way farther back, between, say, a natural levee and the upland, somewhere in there, reduced to lurking.
But in the way all things find a mediocre average, back swamps are those perennially goopy anonymous low areas in flood plains where fine silt and infinite kinds of muck accumulate and fester, often disguised by thickets of disreputable vegetation virtually twitching with pestilence, and buzzing with crawling things, each of which is waiting for you to come within reach of its biting parts, or its poking stinger, which it probably has too. They all seem to have at least one. And maybe suckers — you never know. Definitely sucking parts though.
(2) If a backwater is a slow, sludgy, slimy, stagnant, infested hole, then imagine what a back swamp must be like. If you dare, that is.
Back Swamps are sagging, soft, squishy, oozing areas around flood plains where deposits of fine silt and clay drift in and settle after the floods that carried them along have sickened and died.
There they stay, muttering to themselves, unshaven, unbuttoned, wearing dirty underpants and going for weeks (possibly months — maybe even years) without a proper bath, eating out of cans, drinking out of bottles, and scanning the horizon unsteadily with bleary, bloodshot eyes, waiting for something to happen.
And then you come by one day, traipsing along merrily in your fine squeaky new boots, festively colored pack, with smiley faces all over your shirt.
Well folks, some people would call this entertainment. Not the hiking. Not the new clothes or the way you are wearing them, no. No. It's the what. What happens to you when you get too close to the back swamp and find out what the opposite of Have a nice day! really is. What it really is.
Which is Mighty Fine Entertainment. Yes indeed. For many, but of course not for you. You get something else.
Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? Going to clean house right exactly now and hire some security.
Etc...
so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction definitions: outdoor terms fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves boyb: dave's little guide to backpacks snorpy bits: nibbling away at your sanity last seen receding: missives from a certain mobile homer noseyjoe: purposefully poking my proboscis into technicals
A rustic, natural accessory to liven up the decor of each and every bog it blesses.
Organically grown, hand sawn, individually laid, the bog log is also a boon for hikers, shielding them from contact with the mucky wet evils they must travel over.
Here's our FAQ.
Q: Want color? A: Have we got colors for you! (Sorry, only gray available at this time.)
Q: Need a special width to support those generous-sized feet of yours? A: No problem! (Sorry, no choice of sizes available right now.)
Q: Want an extra long log to span that extra yucky pit? A: You came to the right place! (Sorry, random lengths only today.)
Q: How about an extra stable log to keep you from flipping over and going down for the count head first into that unspeakable, yawning miasma? A: Terrific! Glad you asked for it! (Sorry, our factory cannot currently process this type of request.)
Q: Have more questions? A: Great! We're here to help you in any way we can! Just email us! (Sorry. System down for maintenance at this time. Expected back online by 6:00 p.m., August 27, 2033.)
