We finally finished creating our list for 101 Things in 202 Thursdays. We ended up with a good mix of the ambitious, the bizarre, and the mundane. Since we've four of those Things planned for this coming week, we're still on schedule in terms of accomplishing all 101 items within the next four years.
Coming up with all those Things was more difficult than we'd expected. Though we've no shortage of desired adventures, we had to keep the list realistic. We don't have all the money in the world, so we can't afford to visit all the places the girls and I would like to go. Even so, I think we've enough travel on that list to keep everyone happy for quite a while.
Friday Wrap
Check out the cover jacket of UP! We are so happy with this design!
Other book-related news:
I recently finished recording the audio portion of UP's forthcoming book trailer. Jim Surette of Granite Films is our editor/cinematographer. I can't wait to see the finished product -- Jim's an extremely talented fellow and we're thrilled he was able to fit us into his schedule.
The girls and I will guest host on a major blog the day of our book launch (April 3). Details to soon follow.
Book event dates have been confirmed. I'll announce those on the next Monday Muse (Feb 20).
There will be more media coverage announcements in the coming weeks, so stay tuned.
Hiking news: Alex and I completed the Zealand/Bonds traverse on Sat., Feb 4, and both girls and I hiked Mt. Isolation yesterday. Alex's total number of winter 4K peaks now stands at 39. Nine more mountains to go before March 20!
Folks sometimes ask me about the publishing process. Though I have a book coming out in less than two months, I can't tell people all about writing or publishing; I can only tell them about my own, personal, very positive experiences.
I recently came across Jon Winokur's AdviceToWriters: Writerly Wisdom of the Ages, a compilation of quotes, articles, and essays written by literary agents, editors, and veteran writers. It's a gem of a site. There's a ton of helpful information and great advice. I'm always happy to share my own story with those who ask, but for someone who wants an in-depth look at writing as a general craft and overall business, I'll henceforth direct them to this site.
Zealand Road, Zealand Trail, Twinway, Zealand Spur, Bondcliff Trail, West Bond Spur, Wilderness Trail, Lincoln, Trail
23.2 mile traverse, with a hut stay at Zealand Falls Hut.
First, a huge thank you to Tim and Val C., who graciously agreed to watch Sage last Friday. Alex and I wanted to leave in the middle of the day so we could complete the 6.4 mile hike to Zealand Falls Hut before sunset, but Hugh was not able to leave work until Friday evening. Tim and Val took care of Sage until Hugh arrived; my youngest had a blast and we are much obliged. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Alex and I began the hike to the hut at about 1:30 on Friday afternoon. Please excuse the spotty quality of some of these pictures. I am still learning how to take photographs in winter; my camera does not appreciate the damp and the cold, and the lens rebels from time to time. Some of my photos turned out quite well, and others...not so much.
We reached the Zealand Trail after about two hours of walking. After taking a very short break, we entered the woods and sped-walked the 2.8 miles of well-packed trail.
We reached the hut at 4:30, three hours after we'd left our car.
Here's Alex, in front of the hut...
...and here's the hut itself.
Alex and I had never stayed at an AMC hut in the winter before. We arrived warm and toasty from hiking, but then quickly become chilled from lack of movement (the huts are not heated). We changed into dry (unsweaty) clothing, layered up, and stayed close to the lit wood stove. I made some mashed potatoes for Alex; she felt much better after eating hot food.
Once warm from food and fire, we relaxed and enjoyed the company of those around us. Turns out we were one degree of separation from most of the other guests. There are quite a few different hiking groups, associations, and clubs (official and nonofficial) in the northeast, and it seems like we met representations from at least half of them. It was a very social evening.
Alex and I slept 11 hours that night. It was tough getting up in the morning and leaving the warm and comfy confines of our winter sleeping bag. Once out in the cold air, we packed quickly. DaveBear and MadRiver arrived at the hut just as we were ready to roll.
Here's where things got a little off kilter. DaveBear, Thor and MadRiver had planned to catch up with us at the hut or, if we'd already left, somewhere on the Twinway. We'd then hike the rest of the traverse together. However, MadRiver needed to change layers when he got to the hut, but Alex and I were becoming chilled and therefore we needed to start moving. DaveBear, Thor, Alex and I started up the Twinway toward Zeacliff after making sure MadRiver didn't mind. We figured we wouldn't get too far ahead and that he'd soon catch up.
We hiked with DaveBear and Thor for a while, but there came a time when Alex and I needed to go ahead a bit in order to stay warm. We assumed we would not get too far ahead, but, unfortunately, it became difficult for us to slow down. When we tried, the cold became a problem. We could not stop to wait unless I dragged out my sleeping bag, which I most definitely did not want to do.
We've known DaveBear and MadRiver for years now. Both are trusted friends. Therefore, we knew that both would both understand if we kept moving. Also, since I knew many people would soon be on the trail behind them, I was not worried for their safety. We figured we'd eventually use the hiker grapevine to connect with them.
Alex and I broke trail through 2-5 inches of fluffy powder almost all the way to Zeacliff before being passed by a fast young man who informed us that our friends were probably about ten minutes away. We decided we'd try to wait for them at Zeacliff.
Zeacliff was socked in and blustery. Unfortunately, we could feel the wind no matter where we tried to wait. Remaining still was not an option. We moved on toward Zealand.
Once at Zealand (winter 4K #35), we found a place a few feet from the intersection that felt sheltered enough for us to stop for a while. We had a small piece of chocolate and waited for about five minutes before the chill began to set in. Just as we started to head toward Guyot, three hikers appeared from behind us. They told us that DaveBear and MadRiver were close. Relieved, Alex and I started slowly moving toward Guyot (we could no longer remain still).
Just before reaching treeline, a large VFTT group caught up with us. They passed on the message that DaveBear wasn't feeling the hike today and had decided to turn around. MadRiver was going to go with him. They both said they'd meet us on the other side of the traverse later that evening. I found out later that we'd missed each other at Zealand by five minutes (arg!).
Heading over to Guyot was...interesting. Alex and I headed above treeline without gearing up, since we didn't hear or feel any wind until we were in the midst of it. Once we felt it (strong and cold!), we beat feet into some nearby scrub and donned all the appropriate clothing.
When we stepped back out, the VFTT group had emerged and were walking single file through the Whiteness. I have mixed feelings about what happened next.
I've navigated my way into and out of a near white-out on three occasions -- once on my own and twice with Alex. What we faced heading toward Guyot was far from a white-out; visibility was not the greatest, but one could keep visual tags on the green mound of trees that one needs to enter in order to approach Guyot's summit. The question was, where was the entrance to the path that led through those trees?
I walked with Alex (and a few individuals from the group) downhill too far and missed the appropriate turn; I'd mistaken snow-covered scrub for cairns. Had I been alone (with Alex), I would have taken out my compass, reversed our direction by 180 degrees, walked back to where we'd started, gone back into the scrub, and reassessed the situation. This is the kind of thing I'd like Alex to learn how to do. The wind was blowing, but it was nothing we haven't experienced multiple times before, and we were both warm thanks to our various layers and headwear. It wasn't exactly ideal weather, but we were comfortable enough and not in danger of frostbite. Part of me wishes I had taken the time to go through that exercise with her in those particular moments.
I wasn't alone, however, and my self-sufficiency quickly converted into a desire to follow-the-leader. Someone from the VFTT group pointed toward a specific spot in the trees, walked confidently toward it, and waved for everyone else to follow. Turns out he had a GPS system showing exactly where we needed to go. This was convenient, and I'm grateful for the relative ease in which we crossed, and I'm glad they didn't mind me and Alex falling into their group for a while. However, it bothers me that I so willingly followed without spending much time trying to figure it out for myself. At the very least, I should have pulled out the compass and marked where I was in the event the group had gotten it wrong and we needed to backtrack. I'm familiar with some of the people in this group, and I know they're experienced hikers. I do not doubt their ability or judgment. I knew, in the moment, that they'd probably gotten it exactly right. It's simply the principle of the thing.
Alex and I went ahead of the group, back out of the trees, to the summit of Guyot.
The group caught up with us again as we headed to the West Bond Spur. We let them pass, then tagged behind them up to West Bond. Alex started getting grumpy, and I realized that besides the small piece of chocolate she had at Zealand, neither one of us had eaten anything since breakfast. I then decided that, in spite of a slight desire to continue tagging along with the group over to Bondcliff (I was a bit worried about a lack of visibility on the ridge), we'd stop and eat something substantial before heading up to Bond.
We reached West Bond (winter 4K #36) and -- behold, the arrival of the sun and the clearing of the sky! We saw John of "J&J" (good to see you!), and a lady in the VFTT group offered to take our picture (many thanks!). Here we are on the summit...I'm doing a great impression of a pumpkin (the wind was having fun with my layers).
We headed down West Bond with the group, then lingered behind as they left. We couldn't come to a complete stop, since lack of movement made us cold, but we could slow our pace and indulge in some cheese and crackers. Once fed and watered, it didn't take long for Alex to perk up considerably.
Up, into the official Alpine Zone...
...and onto the summit of Bond (winter 4K #37)!
The wind had died down since our crossing to Guyot, and the skies were clear. This eased my mind greatly. Finding your way from the Twinway to Guyot in less than ideal conditions is one thing...getting from Bond to Bondcliff in subzero windchills and low visibility is quite another. Had we arrived at Bond and found ourselves in an inhospitable environment, we would have either retreated back to Zealand Hut or spent the night at Guyot Shelter. Thankfully, we didn't have to pursue either of those options. However, just to be safe, I told Alex to wear all her layers and headgear (facemask, goggles, etc). I couldn't see any snow blowing over the ridge and it certainly looked relatively calm out there, but I didn't want to assume too much.
Once down Bond and into the col, it was apparent we needn't fret. There was a wind, but it was light. I took off my facemask, and Alex sat for a while and enjoyed the views.
We took our time walking across the ridge. It was wonderful. The views were outstanding, we both felt good, and Alex was in her element. This was the best part of our entire trip. Gorgeous, simply gorgeous.
We reached the top of Bondcliff (winter 4K #38) and lounged about.
Eventually, and with much regret, we decided to head down.
I'd never descended the south side of Bondcliff before. What a treat! Alex loved the moderate downhill grades. She used her sled frequently and with gleeful abandon.
We reached the Wilderness Trail at sunset.
Though we had our headlamps at the ready, we rarely used them for the last 4.6 miles of our journey. The moon was a beautiful and brilliant waxing gibbous; there was little need for artificial light.
The flat miles went by quickly. We were at the suspension bridge at 7:30pm, which gave us a total traverse time of 15 hours (Friday's hike to the hut included). Sage and Hugh were waiting in the parking lot, along with DaveBear and MadRiver. Alex and Sage happily danced with each other while I profusely thanked our friends for coming all the way out to Lincoln Woods. We talked about that morning; all three of us were okay with what had happened. John and June ("J&J") were in the lot and came over to say hello. It was good to see them both again.
Alex was more than ready for this hike. I never had any doubt that she could handle it. During the past couple of months, she's routinely taken on 12-18 mile treks and accomplished them all within adult book time, with plenty of energy left over. After we got home, I asked her if she thought this hike had been especially tough. She answered that though it wasn't easy, she didn't feel it was any more difficult than doing Owl's Head in a day.
A huge note of thanks to Hugh and Sage. Those two have prepared massive dinners for me and Alex on every winter hiking night thus far. The girls support each other, and Hugh supports me and the girls. We could not do what we do without each other's help; the four of us continue to grow as a team, and for that I am profoundly grateful.
When I was a child, I was told to obey all adults without question. Adults are smarter than children (so I was led to believe), therefore my place was to defer to all adults and treat each one with absolute respect.
That is not how I'm raising Alex and Sage.
The truth is, maturity and ethical behavior have absolutely nothing to do with age.
My kids already know this, they've seen it for themselves, first-hand. That's a good thing. It's important for them to know that no matter who you are or what you do, there will always be a ratio of wonderful/not so wonderful people in your life. This ratio has nothing to do with age; one would think that "adult" equals "mature" -- but, alas, it does not.
This ratio becomes more apparent once you step outside the box and dare to live your life in your own way. If you do anything that falls too much outside the norm, the Not-So-Wonderful people will, without a doubt, make a Big Giant Fuss. As Alice Walker writes in The Color Purple, "Folks don't like somebody being too proud or too free."
My original purpose of blogging was to share our trip reports with our family and a small portion of the local hiking community. The blog eventually morphed into something much bigger; the comments, emails, and private messages I've received over the past couple of years make it clear that our hikes and adventures inspire other girls and women. I feel good about this. If we can have a strong and positive effect on even one person, then that's a wonderful thing indeed.
There's a price to putting yourself out there, however. There's a cost to being "too proud or too free." Being proud and/or free makes you an easy target for the Not-So-Wonderful. Though the vast majority of messages I've received have been supportive (thanks, folks!), a few have been..well...not. I'm not talking about genuine questions or respectful but opposing points of view. I'm talking about intentionally offensive rants.
I have shared some of these negative messages with Alex and Sage. Why? Because we live in the real world, and the girls need to learn about the Not-So-Wonderful people who will always, no matter who you are or what you do, be out there. The girls have learned, through our many talks, and by seeing for themselves the poor behavior of a thankfully small minority of adults, that this is real life. There will be always be folks who try to rain on your parade, there will be always be people who say you shouldn't do this or that, there will always be folks who try to put a rock in your bag of Halloween candy. The trick is to know that immature behavior on the part of an adult reflects a deficiency of character within that particular adult. The best you can do is recognize the immaturity for what it is, not take it personally, and move on.
The girls are not disheartened by any of this. Thanks to our many conversations, they understand that this is simply part of the real world. There are people you can count on, and there are people you can't. There are trusted and beloved friends of the family, and there are folks who whisper incessantly behind your back. It doesn't really matter who you are or what you do, there will always be people who genuinely love you and like you for who you are, and there will be those who are...well...Not-So-Wonderful.
The lesson is, of course, to be who you are, no matter what. Do not be afraid to be bold, to be free, to walk your own, unique path. The Not-So-Wonderful will always be there. They are the yin to your yang. Learn from your encounters with them, if you can, and continue along your brilliant and beautiful way.
First - great news! “Unboundary,” the outdoor magazine published by USA Today (circulation: 100,000 people),is going to feature an excerpt from UP: A Mother and Daughter's Peakbagging Adventure in their April issue! "Unboundary" is a wonderful magazine -- we are thrilled! Also, Hugh was interviewed by CNN's Sanjay Gupta yesterday. CNN continues to film Hugh at MIT's Media Lab tomorrow. The half-hour feature will air in early March.
Once again, I'm combining our Thursday Things with the Friday Wrap. Tomorrow, I'll be busy getting ready for (and freaking out about) our upcoming Zealand/Bonds traverse and won't have time to blog.
To those of you who aren't New Hampshire hikers, the Zealand/Bonds winter traverse is a 23 mile, 4 mountain trip. Alex I will start hiking tomorrow afternoon, spend the night out, and hopefully summit all four mountains on Saturday before hiking (limping) to a parking lot on the other side of the mountain range to meet Hugh and Sage.
We'll be fortunate to have friends joining us on this hike. Though I have hiked with Alex on my own about a zillion times, the length and remote nature of this hike makes me nervous. This will be a safer and more enjoyable trek with some trusted friends by our sides.
We didn't cross anything off our Things list last week, though we did see Field of Dreams (#86 on the 100 Best Kids and Family Movies list). The girls enjoyed this movie, though they've never seen a baseball game and probably don't even know how the game is played. They liked the concept of the ghosts showing up on a baseball diamond in the middle of a cornfield...and they really liked seeing James Earl Jones. This was the first time they've seen Jones in a movie, and they immediately recognized his voice as Darth Vader's. They were unable to watch his scenes without imagining Vader in the movie...this made the film quite enjoyable, though probably not in the way the director had intended.
As for the Wrap -- I finished another writing project last week (I'll hopefully be able to talk about that next month). Also, Jim Surette of Granite Films was able to fit me into his schedule. He's putting together UP's book trailer. Looking forward to seeing it! We should have that ready for the public by the end of this month.
Dicey's Mill Trail and Rollins Trail. About 14.4 miles, out-and-back.
We began the day not knowing what to expect. Snow, sleet, ice pellets, and freezing rain had recently pummeled the White Mountains, so we assumed we'd be pushing our way through at least a couple inches of heavy, wet snow.
We arrived at the trailhead just after sunrise and were surprised at how warm it was outside. We'd gotten used to frigid temperatures; the 25 degrees felt downright balmy.
The Ferncroft parking area looked lovely in the morning light.
Alex played in the ice/slush as I finished gearing up.
Traditional trailhead shot...
The beginning of Dicey's Mill cuts through private property. It was nice to see this sign...
The trail was packed, but covered by an icy crust. We barebooted the first 3.7 miles, leaving footprints but not postholes.
The snow depth increased with elevation; I donned my snowshoes at the intersection with Rollins Trail.
Alex made pictures in the snow while I chugged some water.
Onward, to the top of Passaconaway! Breaking trail wasn't difficult, the new snow was never more than three inches deep.
On the viewpoint by the summit...
Finding the summit itself...
Mt. Passaconaway, winter 4K #33!
We returned to the viewpoint, admired the scenery, then descended to the intersection with Rollins Trail.
Rollins leads to the summit of Whiteface. Normally, we'd have ascended Blueberry Ledge Trail to Whiteface, then taken Rollins Trail toward Passaconaway. However, the ledges on Blueberry Trail are covered with ice in the winter, and I didn't want to risk a fall. Hence our decision to tag Passaconaway first, then do an out-and-back on Rollins for Whiteface.
I don't have any pictures of Rollins because I was too busy struggling. I'd never gone west on this trail before...I was not mentally prepared for the uphill slog. The highlight of this section was running into VFTT's "Pepper and Me." We enjoyed speaking to them and were sad when they departed...both of us wished we could have turned around right there and gone (downhill!) with them.
Eventually, we made it to Whiteface. Unfortunately, I dropped my camera in the snow and couldn't properly dry out the lens for quite some time.
Here's a blurry Alex by the summit cairn...
...and a blurry, unofficial summit sign.
From here, it was 6.1 miles to the car...but most of that trek was downhill, so Alex and I picked up speed and made it back to the trailhead earlier than I'd expected. I thought we'd be in headlamps for most of the descent down Dicey's Mill, but we only needed the lights for the last mile and a half. The only slightly problematic issue was my ankle, which twisted the wrong way before we'd finished with Rollins. Luckily, there was no pain with this twist, only numbness. I didn't feel my ankle for the rest of the hike, and even now (four days later) there isn't much sensation in that joint. I can walk just fine, though, so hopefully all will be well for the next outing.
Here we are, back at the trailhead. If you look closely, you can see Alex in the middle of the picture below (I must learn how to take photographs in the dark!).
'Twas a good, albeit tiring, hike. 14 more mountains, 7 hikes to go before March 20.
Other book-related news:
