When I started getting serious this spring about hiking, and had a few practice ones under my belt, a friend asked me, "Have you always hiked? When did you become so extreme about it? I couldn't do these hikes, you're crazy." (Okay, so not just one friend, that's kind of a summary of what a few people said to me.)
First of all, I have always loved to be outdoors. When I was little, my parents couldn't keep shoes on me and I was more likely to be found in a tree or on a horse or riding my bike or...well, you get the picture. I grew up in northern New Hampshire (Colebrook girl til I die, we're a special breed) on a 600+ acre farm. To say that the fields and woods were my playground is completely accurate. I was a very lucky girl.
Secondly, it isn't extreme to want to hike or be outdoors at the end of the day, or when you're feeling landlocked. (Thank you, Mari, for that visual) I spend about eight plus hours a day indoors during the school year, more if I'm working a server shift at night. So, once the weather starts to turn mild, I'm gone baby, gone.
Lastly, the hikes I'm doing are ones that many people can manage. My most extreme was the one I haven't written about yet, a two-day traverse in the Presidentials. (I really don't want to do Webster-Cliff Trail EVER again) All the others? Not necessarily a piece of cake, but definitely do-able. Man, the views are worth every penny. You get to test your body and your mind - your brain will try to talk you out of what your body is totally capable of doing. You meet fabulous people like http://henhikes.blogspot.com/ and http://lookwhatididadventures.blogspot.com/. (They inspire me, even when we aren't hiking.) And honestly, you open yourself up to the "I can, and I did" mentality more than anything else. Plus? You get to be OUTSIDE!
So, yeah, that's why I hike.
Friday, October 25, 2013
I'm not ready for winter
Last night as I was walking the dog, I started thinking about this winter hiking thing. We've been fortunate to not have a lot of rain and low temperatures in October, and the recent snow-spitting, cold days have kind of put me in a funk.
So, I went to our local "sporting goods" shop (www.lahouts.com) and checked out gear for snow and ice. I have snowshoes in my trunk - still there from last year when they NEVER got used - but if I'm going to commit to hiking in the winter, something tells me I may need more rugged equipment. The salespeople there are always helpful, which was good because I know nothing about that sort of thing. After talking to the guy for 15 minutes, and looking at my options, I'm thinking I'll go with Kahtoola's MICROspikes. (www.kahtoola.com). YakTrax aren't sturdy enough, and the other option, name of which escapes me, looked more helpful if I was going up into the alpine zone....which I don't believe I'm ready for.
On a totally (kinda) unrelated note, did you know they made running snowshoes? Don't know about you, but I think I'll stick to just trying to walk uphill in the dang things. They are pretty cool looking though.
So, I went to our local "sporting goods" shop (www.lahouts.com) and checked out gear for snow and ice. I have snowshoes in my trunk - still there from last year when they NEVER got used - but if I'm going to commit to hiking in the winter, something tells me I may need more rugged equipment. The salespeople there are always helpful, which was good because I know nothing about that sort of thing. After talking to the guy for 15 minutes, and looking at my options, I'm thinking I'll go with Kahtoola's MICROspikes. (www.kahtoola.com). YakTrax aren't sturdy enough, and the other option, name of which escapes me, looked more helpful if I was going up into the alpine zone....which I don't believe I'm ready for.
On a totally (kinda) unrelated note, did you know they made running snowshoes? Don't know about you, but I think I'll stick to just trying to walk uphill in the dang things. They are pretty cool looking though.
Now, I just have to investigate something to hike in. Thinking that my trail hikers aren't going to cut it!
Sunday, October 13, 2013
Skip to my Lou
A side note here: when I first started this blog, I was given the advice to keep everything in neat tidy order. Yeah, well that's just not me. So hold on to your hats, it's time for a little Skip to my Lou,my darling. :)
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Preparation...and I don't mean H
I uploaded some pictures in a previous post from my "prep" hikes: Lonesome Lake, Mt. Willard, Zealand Hut. When I was waiting tables at Alburrito's, I found out that one of our regulars is a guide who brings people up Mt. Washington in the wintertime, jackpot! I'd serve him margaritas and tacos, and he'd give me advice. (however, he nixed the pole idea, which eventually became a necessity for me - bad Brad!) We talked gear, water sources, hikes to train to hike, and then hikes to hike. He offered to take me out, but after a winter of kidney stones and the flu, I thought I'd better stick to my own pace. Slow.
Lonesome Lake was the first hike we did. I dragged my son along; I'm fortunate that he's usually pretty game to go, as long as it's not 90,000,000 degrees or raining. It was a decent day, but I could tell ten minutes into the hike that I was #1 seriously overdressed, and #2 way out of shape. Ugh. We kept moving, switchback after switchback, me stopping every so often to try and catch my breath. Finally I pulled out the inhaler. My son joked that he'd go up and come back to get me. No chance!
We met several folks coming down the hill who said that there was a lot of water, mud, and even some snowpack still on the trail as it got closer to the hut. Once we got to the fork (one way goes around the lake, one way goes right to the hut and Fishin' Jimmy Trail), we decided we'd try it - if the snow and/or ice was an issue, we could just double back. Once we got to the hut, I talked my son into heading down the Fishin' Jimmy Trail "just for a bit" to see what all the fuss was about. Um, yeah, it was a little steep in places, which was fine until I had the vision of having to go back up. Sam went ahead on the trail, came back, and said he was all set with going any further. Party pooper! Back we went, and around the lake and back down; I think our total time was something ridiculous like three plus hours! When we got down, we headed to Truant's Tavern in Woodstock to celebrate. After lunch and a beer, Sam drove us home - when we came through the notch, it was socked in and rainy where we had just been. We got lucky!
*A note here about gear - I wore socks that I usually run in, with my hiking shoes. Too thick! Lesson learned.
Lonesome Lake was the first hike we did. I dragged my son along; I'm fortunate that he's usually pretty game to go, as long as it's not 90,000,000 degrees or raining. It was a decent day, but I could tell ten minutes into the hike that I was #1 seriously overdressed, and #2 way out of shape. Ugh. We kept moving, switchback after switchback, me stopping every so often to try and catch my breath. Finally I pulled out the inhaler. My son joked that he'd go up and come back to get me. No chance!
We met several folks coming down the hill who said that there was a lot of water, mud, and even some snowpack still on the trail as it got closer to the hut. Once we got to the fork (one way goes around the lake, one way goes right to the hut and Fishin' Jimmy Trail), we decided we'd try it - if the snow and/or ice was an issue, we could just double back. Once we got to the hut, I talked my son into heading down the Fishin' Jimmy Trail "just for a bit" to see what all the fuss was about. Um, yeah, it was a little steep in places, which was fine until I had the vision of having to go back up. Sam went ahead on the trail, came back, and said he was all set with going any further. Party pooper! Back we went, and around the lake and back down; I think our total time was something ridiculous like three plus hours! When we got down, we headed to Truant's Tavern in Woodstock to celebrate. After lunch and a beer, Sam drove us home - when we came through the notch, it was socked in and rainy where we had just been. We got lucky!
*A note here about gear - I wore socks that I usually run in, with my hiking shoes. Too thick! Lesson learned.
Monday, September 2, 2013
Getting Ready
My son, Sam, and I at Lonesome Lake in May
A collage of photos from hiking Willard and up to the Zealand Hut
Looking out from Mt. Pemi - I think this was the first time I ever got a sense of vertigo from looking over the side and down
Table Rock, looking towards Errol from Dixville Notch. Vertigo number two. What a gorgeous view though!
It started with a kidney stone...
I've always been a lover of all things outdoors, until this last winter when I was hit (ouch) with a kidney stone, and spent several months in pain before I decided to quit being a martyr and get it blasted. Round one, unsuccessful. Round two, ding ding ding. Trouble was....stint. And that's all I'm saying about that.
I had been walking a couple miles almost every day before this happened, basically right up until the first procedure. I live halfway up a mountain (okay, maybe it just seems that way), so this kept me in pretty good shape. Throw in a run here and there, and I felt pretty fabulous.
To say that I was sidelined by the stone and what followed in April is an understatement. Emotionally and physically, I was drained. Until....a friend reminded me that I hadn't been a quitter as long as she'd known me. Personally, I think she was tired of listening to me.
So, I started out slow, walking again as often as I could. Then, I got the flu - the respiratory, can't breathe kind. Oy. Well, at that point, what are you going to do? It was almost like the kitchen sink was getting chucked at me. I called the doctor, he prescribed an inhaler for the bad days, and forward I went.
I noticed in the local paper that Great Glen was gearing up to do their trail running series, which I had participated in before. (Their fall series starts on September 5th! http://greatglentrails.com/events/fall-trail-running-series/) I guilted a friend into joining me - she was a road runner, poor thing. After a pouring buckets of rain start, and a time of 33:30 for a 2.4 mile run, she was hooked. We had this one hill at the end that neither of us could quite run up (we hated that hill), but every week we got faster and faster. By the second to last week, that hill went down! (It was an out and back, and on the way out, I flipped it the bird, and told it I'd be back for it) Disclaimer: the first week we ran, I sounded like a truck and Lauren swears my voice dropped at least two octaves in the first mile. We ran in 90 degree weather, pouring chilly rain, and every other combo you can think of. But....we ran. And finished!
Along about the beginning of the trail run series, my family in NC emailed me about hiking part of the Appalachian Trail with them. The goal was a two-day hike across the Presidentials, with a stay at one of the huts. I had always loved to hike, but could typically not find anyone who wanted to do it with me. Well, it seemed like a fun thing to do, so I jumped in with both feet. I joined the 4,000 Footer Club on Facebook, and started researching gear. (Meanwhile, I was still running and walking....and using the inhaler) I devoured everything I could on what to bring, how to pack, bought maps, and started assembling my "training to hike" hiking list.
And that's a story for another day. :)
I had been walking a couple miles almost every day before this happened, basically right up until the first procedure. I live halfway up a mountain (okay, maybe it just seems that way), so this kept me in pretty good shape. Throw in a run here and there, and I felt pretty fabulous.
To say that I was sidelined by the stone and what followed in April is an understatement. Emotionally and physically, I was drained. Until....a friend reminded me that I hadn't been a quitter as long as she'd known me. Personally, I think she was tired of listening to me.
So, I started out slow, walking again as often as I could. Then, I got the flu - the respiratory, can't breathe kind. Oy. Well, at that point, what are you going to do? It was almost like the kitchen sink was getting chucked at me. I called the doctor, he prescribed an inhaler for the bad days, and forward I went.
I noticed in the local paper that Great Glen was gearing up to do their trail running series, which I had participated in before. (Their fall series starts on September 5th! http://greatglentrails.com/events/fall-trail-running-series/) I guilted a friend into joining me - she was a road runner, poor thing. After a pouring buckets of rain start, and a time of 33:30 for a 2.4 mile run, she was hooked. We had this one hill at the end that neither of us could quite run up (we hated that hill), but every week we got faster and faster. By the second to last week, that hill went down! (It was an out and back, and on the way out, I flipped it the bird, and told it I'd be back for it) Disclaimer: the first week we ran, I sounded like a truck and Lauren swears my voice dropped at least two octaves in the first mile. We ran in 90 degree weather, pouring chilly rain, and every other combo you can think of. But....we ran. And finished!
Along about the beginning of the trail run series, my family in NC emailed me about hiking part of the Appalachian Trail with them. The goal was a two-day hike across the Presidentials, with a stay at one of the huts. I had always loved to hike, but could typically not find anyone who wanted to do it with me. Well, it seemed like a fun thing to do, so I jumped in with both feet. I joined the 4,000 Footer Club on Facebook, and started researching gear. (Meanwhile, I was still running and walking....and using the inhaler) I devoured everything I could on what to bring, how to pack, bought maps, and started assembling my "training to hike" hiking list.
And that's a story for another day. :)
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