Three Days in the Wilderness

A new entry here is long overdue, and what better excuse than my first backpacking trip this year, a three day escapade into the Sandwich Range Wilderness with my good friend Charlotte.
 

Cold and stormy along the Kancamagus Highway, and the freezing rain so aptly illustrated on the subalpine zone sign at one of the pull-outs. 

The weather forecast was not in our favor, though. Our first day was predicted to be full of freezing rain, snow, and high winds. My drive through the mountains on Friday morning was confirming those reports. 

Sun over the Kancamagus, and Charlotte and I at the trailhead, ready to go!

 But then, just after crossing the Kancamagus Pass, I was greeted by blue skies and sunlight! Charlotte and I jumped for joy when we met up, not only because we were going hiking, but also because if this sun was a good omen! 

We started out on the Champney Falls trail, which did indeed delight us with three lovely waterfalls. If only it hadn't been almost freezing, there would have been some awesome swimming holes along this trail. 

The trail climbed steadily up, rewarding us with some magnificent views along the way: 

We're planning on staying at Jim Liberty Cabin, a small wooden hut tied down to the base of Chocorua with thick steel chains. But first, we must summit Chocorua and brave the gale-force winds that we kept hearing reports about from hikers passing us on their way down. 

Yup, that's where we're heading: the bare, rocky summit of Mt. Chocorua.

The wind on the summit truly was amazing. We could barely stand up straight! But the view was quite ethereal because of the clouds, which seemed so close overhead I felt I could touch them, yet beyond you could see the sun streaming through. 

That night, Charlotte and I huddled together on a single bunk in the cabin, while we could hear wind lashing outside. Charlotte's thermometer read about 25 degrees the next morning and outside the ground was dusted with snow and ice. It was certainly a cold night, despite the fact that there were 14 bodies squeezed into that little cabin (boy scouts, etc). Incidentally, these are the last people we'll see for the next 30 hours.

Still, despite the lack of sleep, I think we look pretty chirpy in the morning, ready for continuation of our journey. Here you can see our cabin, and Mt. Chocorua behind us. 

Our trail was now heading straight down into the valley, but the freezing temperatures and ice on the trail made the going much more challenging: 

We're smiling in these photos, but this trail was no laughing matter. I think it took us almost an hour to go 0.4 miles. I'm swinging on the tree, not to look like a monkey, but because that's the safest way around that icy rock.

Then, once we get down into the valley, all excited to have made it down, we realize we just have to go straight back up the next mountain. 

And look how far we've come! That's Mt. Chocorua behind Charlotte! 

We decide it would be best to set up camp down in the next valley - so that we'll be slightly warmer and more protected from the elements. So, we find a nice little spot near Oliverian Brook and begin to set up camp. This is the first time for both us to camp outside a designated camping area or site indicated on a map. And our little site turned out to be perfect for us. 

Charlotte set about finding firewood while I set up the tent. With just one match and no fuss whatsoever, Charlotte created a beautiful little fire which kept us warm as we made dinner (chili with beef jerkey!), tea, and hot cocoa.

closeup of the chili, just because it was so good and colorful! Mmm, look at all those veggies and meat! 

Day three: Preparing breakfast by the brook in the morning. 

First half of the last day in three shots: 1) We're heading up there! 2) Ok, this is really steep (again!!) 3) So beautiful up here! It was worth the climb.

And finally a view of the King of the Whites, Mt. Washington. Look at all that snow! 

Lunch/rest break by the brook

Charlotte is an amazing naturalist, and has a great eye for finding little hidden gems, like the woolly bear caterpillar and the aquatic egg sack on the bottom row. Above you can also see the beaver dam (!!!) we had to cross. 

And so ends our wonderful backpacking trip through the Sandwich Range Wilderness. So far, definitely one of my favorite places in the Whites. Laced with streams and gurgling brooks, with many types of scenery and a fairy-like forest, and desperately isolated, this was the perfect scene to kick off another season of wilderness.

Just got back from an amazing trip to Belgium, with a little France and the Netherlands thrown in there, too!
Here's a slideshow of my favorite photos:

The Flume Gorge

"The Flume" is probably my favorite natural feature in all of New Hamphire. It's a long granite gorge at the base of Mt. Liberty, the passageway of the icy-cold and fast-moving Flume Brook on it's way to the Pemi River. A suspended boardwalk runs through the gorge, allowing you to walk above the roaring stream and get up-close to the moss-covered granite walls.In summer, Franconia Notch charges a relatively outrageous sum to walk through the gorge: $14 per person! But in winter, with no one to watch the gate, it's finally open for all, the way nature should be!

Yup, gotta go beyond the closure sign... Well actually, it's really not a closure sign, just a stop sign, right? I made a full stop, checked for on-coming traffic (and hazardous ice) and then continued through... :)

In summer these rock walls are covered in moss and fern, and the brook roars incessantly underneath the suspended boardwalk.. But in winter, it is so silent and peaceful here. And the ice is just magnificent!

Speaking of magnificent ice... seems like we're not the only ones who think this place is great... There were at least 20 ice climbers taking advantage of the beautiful - and open-to-the-public - Flume Gorge.

And there's the Flume Brook, still flowing hard under all that snow and ice!

Ice Ice Baby

Remember this? This was February 2011, exactly one year ago, when a bunch of my friends and I went snowshoeing in the White Mountains.. here we are, gazing up at some ice climbers in the Flume Gorge, thinking, "Wow, those guys are so bad-ass..."

 Now look who's bad-ass:

This is our group of ice climbers. Lukas and I are the only ones from last year's hike that made it back for this, but still, it felt the fulfillment of a dream. We saw it, and we knew we wanted to learn to do that. And today it became a reality.

 This is our spot up on the cliffs in the Lost River Valley area of the White Mountain National forest. Beautiful curtains of ice hanging over the rocks.

Will Moik had an SLR, so I'm sure he has better pictures... but here are few just for teasers, until I get my hands on the other photos.

And that's me again, coming to the first ledge of the the slab that Mr. Thalheimer (our guide) dubbed The Finisher since after this climb we'd be too exhausted to climb anymore for the day. Definitely an appropriate name!

What a great day, though! And with so many great people! Thanks to Lukas and Mika for organizing such an awesome trip!

Mt. Grace

Weather forecasters must use magic eight balls for their predictions. Last night when I checked the weather it said snow/rain, so I reluctantly rejected the idea of spending a precious free weekend-day out hiking. But, when I woke up this morning, the sun was shining and the air was warm. I got J up with a bowl of strawberry yogurt and a latte, and without too much delay we were on our way to Warwick to hike Mt. Grace.

On the way we passed through the town of Orange, which despite the cool name (after the Duke of Orange, apparently) is a pretty dilapidated old mill town, which is unfortunate because they have gorgeous brick mill building lining the fittingly named Millers River. Not to mention this awesomely creative street names...:

 

Mt. Grace State Park itself was beautiful. There's a great network of well-marked trails and the northern-hardwood and hemlock forest there seemed older and more wild than the forests down here in Leverett. Mt. Grace is one of the tallest mountains in Massachusetts, and definitely the tallest one here in the Pioneer valley, at 1,617 feet. And best of all, it's another one of those CCC mountains with awesome firetowers on the summit, affording gorgeous 360 views! 

a new start for the new year

BEFORE

       I've been toying with the idea of cutting my hair for what seems like years... I always imagine doing it, but then chicken out. I'll see my long, golden locks, and will suddenly be petrified at the idea of losing them... I come up with a million excuses: what about making braids? Or throwing it up into a pony-tail for sports or rushed mornings? What if I cut it and it looks horrible?

There's a reason why monks and nuns and spiritualists shave their hair off. Hair is not just vanity, it's weight, it's the past clinging to you. That long hair has been growing for years... I'd estimate that the the tip of my hair now was just growing from my hair follicles in  middle schools... That's a lot of dead weight to be carrying around. Sure, the past was wonderful, and nostalgia is a great thing...

... But I'm feeling like I'm in a new chapter of my life. I've finished college, I had an epic, life-changing experience in Glacier, and now I'm in the real world: working, living, making a place for myself. But I'm also a new girl, since Glacier I think... and it was in Glacier that I first started thinking of cutting my hair... I'm more adventurous, more willing to take risks, I know myself better. And I don't just want to live life, anymore. I want to love life, not shy away from fear and difficulty. My new years resolution this year was to be truthful. Always. No matter how bad it makes me look, or how hard it might be. not to be afraid of what other people think...

... and in this pursuit of truth, and rejection of fear, I thought what better way to celebrate lunar new year, and God's Day, than to cut my hair. Physically cut off the old, stale me. Shed the weight holding me back, etc...

But it would be a shame to just throw out all that hair, no? When there are so many people who have no hair, whose hair has been taken from them, through cancer and birth defects. So I decided to donate my hair to Locks of Love, an organization that makes hair prostheses for children suffering from hair loss.

Joachim took one last picture of my hair, for memories sake:

and I let it all go.... 

I took Joachim to school, and before I could chicken out went straight to the hair salon with a picture of what I wanted, and the Locks of Love guidelines. I had a lovely Korean stylist, and we talked in Korean the whole time, much to the amazement of everyone in the salon. In a way, it seems fitting that a Korean should be the one cutting off all that hair that was grown in Korea.

and here is the finished result.

AFTER

I love it! My hair feels fresh, bouncy, and wonderful! And I feel wonderful too. So for all of you who have been afraid to cut off your hair, all I can say is: Just do it! It's fun, it's fresh, and if you look ridiculous, hey, it'll grow back.

setting out on adventure