Moose River in Winter Day 3/3

Frigid in the tent, below zero.  BI’s cheap thermometer is broken, so no measure, but the frost covering the outside of my sleeping bag and the thickness of the ice over out water hole in the river this morning spelled COLD. The wind was loud enough to hear, and thankfully we were sheltered from the full force of it’s chill.
Unfortunately, Birdie is still not doing well. She shivers, even when bundled up in the down over quilt that is covering her. She’s still demonstrating some type of unfathomable pain, with intermittent sharp yelps that now happen when you don’t even touch her, when she’s walking outside. She runs outside into the cold and wanders back and forth, hunched up.  BI is worried enough about her that he decides to get her to a vet, which means walking out today, in the cold, and right into this wind. We’re baling.
Not that we could have done much else but hang right here, and maintain the camp for another day and night. After cutting more wood, we would stoke the stove, read, sleep, drink coffee and tea, and eat the piles of food from our feed bags.

Shelter

We tried going down river yesterday, but the over flow stopped us.  I would explore the edges of the open leads around Attean Falls nearby, plus walk out to poke around on the lower reaches of Attean Pond.
There are ample opportunities to explore animals tracks on this snow. Yesterday, Birdie led us to an otter den that was clearly active, marked by characteristic snow troughs and cylinder shaped scat.

BIrdie tracks an ottter

A great resource for learning about ice, snow, animal signs, and how to forecast and deal with winter weather is Exploring Nature in Winter: A Guide to Activities, Adventures, and Projects for the Winter Naturalist by Alan Cvancara.
So the tedious procedure of breaking camp was launched.  Packing up on a cold morning in winter is one of my top least favorite activities, but it comes with the territory.  My hands have the circulation of turtle feet,  especially my left index finger, which was partially severed some 35 years ago when I slipped on ice while I was chopping wood. I use packets of chemical heat warmers out here. This morning I had brief periods of exposing my fingers while we released all the strings, bungees, and ropes that held the tent upright, and then we packed away the various bundles onto the two toboggans.  I’d work fast for maybe three minutes, then my hands would become unbearably cold and I’d have to slip them into my chemically heated expedition mittens for three minutes and then repeat the cycle until done.
Eventually we hit the trail, and after struggling up the only bump in the route, around the Falls themselves, we came upon a newly created crater in the ice where it appeared a snowmobile had plunged.

Avoiding the pit

There were numerous tracks all over the  bend in the river that were not there when we came in a few days ago.
We were careful to keep our toboggans from plunging into the hole. We both worked each toboggan around the pit, where we took turns standing on ice pieces in the hole itself as we braced against the loads as each sled passed along the foot wide shelf.
We made quick work of reaching the mouth of the river. Looking out over the expanse of ice and swirling surface snow ahead of us, we both exchanged a glance where we recognized that we’d be heading into the vortex of cold.
The next couple of hours of travel were among the most difficult I can recall. The cold was unbelievable.  To avoid frostbite, ever inch of your face had to be covered.

Uncle Tom covers up

I remember being in this same situation walking across Moosehead Lake, where stopping was not a reasonable act. It was zero out, and the wind was strong, steady and powerful enough that it pushed our loaded toboggans over more than once. Mine was heavy enough that it took me considerable effort to haul it upright.   BI and I slogged north over the frozen expanse, and survived by chunking down the work by aiming for the lee side of several small islands that were along the path ahead.

Extreme hiking

It was dramatic how calm, settled, and more tolerable the space was when we sat on the lee side of the islands.  I treasured the hot, rich, black coffee that was in my thermos. I devoured roasted nuts, peanut butter crackers, and cookies as we brought our pulses down to reasonable levels.  The cold soon had us up and moving; our rests never lasted reached 10 minutes.
Eventually the path veered toward the east, toward the parking lot. With the wind now from the rear, our lagging energy relished the good fortune. It was still cold and difficult for my hands. I stuffed all my gear haphazardly into my empty Voyager, and was done.  I high-fived BI.  We made it.  Our homes would now be cradles of comfort and warmth.  The wonder of the shower world, oh those hot showers.

Excessive Sierra Snow for 2011 Hiking Season ?

Here we go again. If I was heading out to the Pacific Crest Trail again, I’d bring along a cheap GPS this time, and get ready for slow going through the frozen stuff up there. Hope it’s not a repeat of last year’s conditions. I would consider MSR Lightning Axis snowshoes sent to Kennedy Meadows as well.

Snow Water Equivalent map

Check out the purple band running up through CA and WA, etc.
“The Sierra Nevada typically get a lot of snow, but what is most important this year is the amount of water locked up in that snow. The amount, over 40 inches in much of the region, is averaging 150% of normal.The storms that have come ashore have had a great deal of moisture with them, as evidenced by the rounds of flooding problems and mudslides experienced thus far.”
That’s 40 inches of water, not snow- there is excessive snow right now. My son was just visiting San Francisco this past week, and drove over the Sierras from Montana there and back. He got over I-80 through Donner pass with chains heading over, but on the way back the snows closed that route and he had to head all the way up to Oregon and drive along the Columbia River to reach Montana.
It’s gonna be slow going.

http://www.accuweather.com/blogs/news/story/47449/excessive-sierra-nevada-snow-a.asp

New Snowshoes + Fresh Powder

Been hitting alternate exercise modes in an attempt to “ spread the damage”  on impact on my body.  For this end, I have employed snowshoes, new ones, to move about the Maine countryside these past couple of weeks. I had trashed a pair of Tubbs style last year that I bought at L.L. Bean’s and wasn’t able to get a replacement pair, as they were sold out for the season.  So I took the $169 in cash and put that toward a pair of 30” MSR Lightning Axis which were about $100 more, a cost softened by purchase through an unmentioned PCT thru-hiking friend who bought them through his pro deal ( with my money).
They weigh 3 pounds, and the best feature is the one time ( for each pair of boots) toe strap adjustment that, with the two-second heel strap procedure has me into them in seconds.  I did not try the Ergo Televator Heel lifter which can be activated on steeper terrain.

After Ian and Mark found my 12:30 PM hiking invite on Facebook and we successfully completed a 7.5 mile slog up over the side of Cameron Mountain then down Zeke’s Trail in the Camden Hills State Park.

Follow the route

There was 1.1 miles of unbroken 2 foot powder on the steepest uphill section of Zeke’s, where we each took turns breaking trail. After we reached the Ski Lodge trail we went 0.4 miles south to get out of the cold at the new Lodge, which had a young couple in there next to a glowing wood stove.  What a break it was from the biting cold, which had to be in single numbers or close to it by the time we got back to our cars at 4:30 PM. As I type this tonight it is only 3 degrees out, accompanied by a steady wind.  The next two days are supposed to be the coldest temperatures of two years in these parts.

Some Bubbas Meet a New Friend

It was 20 degrees out, dark and overcast this morning . After eating a breakfast of espresso , scrambled eggs, bacon, and a pumpernickel bagel slathered with Queso’s own strawberry fig preserves, I was fueled up for a hike. The PCT related action for today was meeting my new friend Ryan, (AKA Guthook GA-ME 2007 AT thru hiker) to talk trail strategy and get in a training hike at Camden Hills State Park. We have been e-mailing each other ever since December when we both learned that we were both starting the Pacific Crest Trail this year, that we lived in the same county here in Maine, and that we lived about 15 miles apart.
My dependable snowshoeing fellow Bubbas Craig and Rick joined us at the Stevens Corner parking lot at the edge of the park at 8:30 AM for this one.

Craig, Ryan, Rick

The wind was already tunneling down the open spaces of the Multiuse Trail so we quickly strapped on Stablilicers ( me) and Kahtoola Microspikes (Ryan). We quickly ascended 1.2 miles to the Cameron Mountain Trail, where I was able to stay with the Stabilicers until we hung a left on the Cameron Mtn.Trail where it was snowshoe city for all of us ( CM Trail = 2.5 miles). We ascended steeply along a stream bed until we reached the highest point of the hike at 1,000 feet in elevation. It is super important to avoid the obvious left turn at the Sky Blue Trail, which would add another 3.1 to our destination. Just 0.1 miles further on is the preferred solution, Zeke’s Trail. It was untouched and covered with 2-3 feet of powder snow.  Crag broke trail and the 0.5 miles to the Ski Lodge Trail was all that one can hope for when snowshoeing- a 400 foot drop sliding and skidding away , with Penobscot Bay in the distance. Where else in the eastern USA can you skid your way down from 1,000 feet elevation with the shore of the Atlantic less than a mile away?
It was a quick 0.4 walk on the Ski Lodge trail to the rebuilt Ski Lodge, which we found empty. There was wood already inside, and I soon had a decent start of a fire going in the wood stove. Here is a brief video of the crew in action at the hut.
While we were in the hut, a group came in , and Craig and I recognized them as the same group that we met when we had been by here last year on mountain bikes. It was a friendly time inside, as they were no doubt pleased that we had already started heating up the shelter. They were staying the night.
After we boiled up our drinks and ate our home made energy bars and pemmican, we hightailed it back the 3.0 miles over the Ski Lodge Trail down to the cars. All in all we had covered 8.0 miles, and it sure felt like it. We were beat. At the car I realized that I had left my Leki poles outside of the shelter, but wisely decided that they were safe, in the company of the group that was camping for the night. I was in no shape to do another 6.0 miles to get them back . Rick convinced me I now and an excuse to get back tomorrow morning, perhaps riding my mountain bike up the hill and back again to rescue them ?

It’s Officially Winter

Here’s a video of Craig ahead of me heading up the UT trail on Moody Mountain. If we can’t easily ride bikes in these woods just yet, we’re heading out anyways. Yes, you do need traction devices on your feet to keep upright, and it would still be difficulty to keep bicycle wheels from dropping through the snow crust an bogging down. Steve Cross tried riding in the Bog last Friday and said that it took him an hour to cover just 5 miles.

Montana: Strike Two!

Montana Road

Thawing out tonight.

Lincoln and I were thwarted in our quest to climb up Elephant Peak, MT this afternoon, due to 18 degrees, 12 MPH wind, and the snow on the gravel road too deep to reach that trail head. We did walk along the plains for an hour. I ending up freakin’ freezing.

I had on three layers on top: Ibex wool  t-shirt, Patagonia Wool II midweight zip crew, and North Face 7 Summit softshell.  My Ibex winter gloves were a joke, as my hands were painfully cold walking back to the truck, and in agony as they thawed out in the heated cab.  It’s full blown winter conditions here.

Winter Camping at Acadia National Park- Day 1 of 3

With somewhere in the neighborhood of three million visitors a year, who’d believe that you can just walk in and have your pick of any campsite at Acadia National Park’s Blackwoods campground?

It might take a visit on a February weekend with a foot and a half of snow on the ground, but free oceanside camping is fine with me. Four of us made the weekend outing: the three Mainers, which included myself and the Speedy Sisters, known individually as V8 and Auntie Mame, and Birdlegs, hailing from New Hampshire. The Mainers were veteran winter walkers, and for Birdlegs, it was her first taste of “warm” winter camping. We also had the pleasure of being accompanied by veteran winter walker, Jody dog, our five pound Pomeranian.

We went in mid-day Saturday, and came out Monday morning.   It doesn’t take much to camp in Acadia during the winter. About all you need to do is register with a ranger on duty at park Headquarters. After he gave us our map, a page full of rules, and a warm good-bye, we drove down Route 3 to Blackwoods Campground, an the southern end of Mount Desert Island. The 1 mile road into the campground itself is unplowed. That’s where my home-made toboggans come in.

Toboggans Ready to Go

After we wedged the Caravan into the plowed out parking area on the side of Route 3, we loaded all our gear onto three sleds and grunted our way up the snowy track to our destination. V8 was chugging the point, with Birdlegs soon hauling on her harness right behind. Camp rules forbid the cutting of any standing deadwood, so I brought my own tent poles, 7 of them, ranging from 14 to the 18 foot ridge pole. They stacked on the top of my 10 foot toboggan, along with my 9 x 12 wall tent and my stove, plus some firewood. When it was my turn to grunt up, I couldn’t even budge the sled and depended on Auntie Mame to periodically push and even align the toboggan in the track. We all needed snowshoes to keep from sinking in.

It didn’t take long to reach the camping loops. The terrain was essentially dealing with one long but gradual uphill then a fairly gentle curving slope down.  We eventually located a site that was within a brief walk to a port-a potty. The wash houses were winterized and locked up, but soon Birdlegs was successful in operating an ancient frost free metal hand pump, and secured a few gallons of drinking water in our red plastic pail.

After we stomped down a suitable site and dug out a stove pit, we spent the early afternoon unpacking the sleds, putting up the tent and rain fly, and setting up our temporary home, dividing up the tent into a rear sleeping area and a front kitchen work space.

Auntie Mame Chillin' Out

Stove? Right, complete with stovepipe and thimble. One of the most intelligent purchases I ever made was buying a lifetime, titanium box stove from Four Dog Stoves .

Camp Kitchen- Note Coals Glowing in the Stove

The price of the unit in the ten years since I purchased it has more than doubled. I rigged a stout cord up high inside the ridge that would serve as a station for any wet foot gear and clothing that we’d have to dry out. When the stove is cranking it can get over 90 degrees up there. With the stove and dry wood, we were able to heat the tent up to the point where I was down to my undershirt.

Eventually we settled in, and enjoyed the heat and ambiance of the filtered light through the white Egyptian cotton tent fabric.

Birdlegs Sandwiched between Speedy Sisters

I have a sweet deal here. Mame and V8 volunteered to cook breakfast and dinners, and provide the fixin’s for us to pack our own lunches. As the darkness came on, we lit two candles and stuck them in the snow near the entrance and the tent was softly, but adequately illuminated by out 2 candlepower system.

Mame started the gustatory frenzy off  with carrots and celery with hummus, and smoked salted almonds. I made up a couple of the infamous Snake Bites  (Yukon Jack, lime juice, and snow) for myself and V8. Soon a thick hamburger was coming my way, on a puffy roll, slathered with mayonnaise and catchup. Chocolate pudding cups did the dessert session justice.

We continued to stoke the stove with the split dry oak that we had trucked in here on the toboggans. When it was time to sleep, someone blew out the candles, damped down the stove and withdrew into the depths of their winter sleeping bags. I know it wasn’t me.

It’s Finally Here!

Spring. Today. The first morning I was able to walk out to get my Bangor Daily News paper by the road on ground that was not frozen solid. Unbelievable! It is 7 pm now and I am still able to look outside and see the last traces of snow on the field in front of my house.

Springtime is generally a mixed bag for me. I grew up on a farm, and the arrival of spring has had long history of psychological hits on me. The arrival of Spring meant that the days of lounging around in the cold dark were done, and there were always things to do, work to be taken care of, rock to pick up, plants to deal with. It had a dread to it that no one else seemed to notice other than the poet TS Eliot:

“APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.”

Sheesh!

Things are different now. I want to hike, and did, today!

Two nights ago I was over to Loon’s house. He hiked the AT back in 1998, and invited me for supper over to his house in nearby Searsmont, ME. His house looks over a broad valley with unique views of Levensellar Mountain way off in the distance. His partner, I think Sue, told me she has always wanted to hike up to the top of it, but that she tried and has not been able to do so. There are no actual trails up there, but I used to bushwhack my way up about 20 years ago. Today it hit 50 degrees, and I was inspired to get up there this afternoon .

I put on my Goretex lined boots, grabbed my Leki poles, asked Jody dog if she wanted to go with me ( She indicated yes) , put on my shorts, and drove up to a place where I could park my car. There was little snow at the start, which was at the base of a giant commercial wild blueberry field. I actually used to mountain bike up there, but walked this time. We started up a rough 4 wheeler trail that was badly eroded and had a pretty good-sized stream running down over the rocks and gravel. I didn’t care if my boots got wet, it was only going to be an hour and a half or so. There were some patches of snow to walk through , at the most a foot deep. No problem. It was a steep climb, all the way, up to close to 1,000 feet, starting about 300 or so.

We made it all the way up until we had to enter the forest, and feel our way up to the top. There was a very big “No Trespassing ” sign along a stone wall up that I ignored. Who the hell would care today?

We went over a stone wall and then the snow began to get deeper, and deeper. I should have taken a day pack and had my snow shoes strapped on it. The granulated refrozen snow was working its way into my boots. The further we went, the deeper it got, until I was sinking into granular ice, thigh deep. The sharp grains were abrading my bare lower legs, and shins. The branches I was plowing through were scratching my legs. Here we go again, an Uncle Tom moment. Jody was sinking with each of her tiny steps and working hard, all four pounds of her.

Eventually we reached the top , where there were fantastic unique views of Levensellar Pond, and the road I live on , High St. I saw some open ledges on top, and while there didn’t appear to be any decent tent sites, there were many gnarled trees that I could string up my sleeping hammock to. There was a fire ring on top , too. I plan to spend a night up there. I can actually walk there. it is about two miles from the house.

So, a good day , and some hope for me this Spring.

I am really looking forward to heading down to Austin , TX tomorrow for a week of basically nonstop revelry. I am heading down there with 4 guys from ME, and one from NH who have been camping friends at the Grey Fox Bluegrass Festival . We are going to take in the Old Settlers Music Festival ( camping Wed- Sat) . Even better is rendezvousing with a couple of the MEGAEX AT gang, the Captain and Louis , who live there. It is going to take some real serious risk management for me to pace myself. Someone has to do it.

I am going to take along my Big Agnes Air Core sleeping pad. ” Spend a night with Big Agnes and you may never want to sleep inside again.”  More later.

Post Birthday Hike

     We got whacked again on Friday with another snow storm that canceled all local schools and meetings for the eighth time this winter. The good news is that the bare ground is now warmed up to the point that the snow that lands there is usually gone in a few days.

Today I finally pulled myself out of the house and into the cold and am so pleased that I did it. I did a 7 mile loop hike in Camden Hills State Park. I parked at the Stevens Corner lot, walked up the Ski Lodge Trail, then veered onto the Cameron Mountain Trail, where I went all of the way to the end. I then linked up to Zeke’s Trail, which eventually returned to the Ski Lodge Trail that I followed all the way back to the car. It was a great day to be alive. I had my beloved ULA Pack, my Leki poles, and took along Tiki Mon as my water bottle. I had the iPod filled with my AT sound track selection, and for lunch I packed a few prunes mixed in with Walmart Cajun Trail Mix. I brought along my snow shoes, that I strapped on the back on my pack. Jody came with me for companionship.

The trail was well packed from the parking lot all the way up past the 1.2 mile mark. It was a long time to go uphill. When I turned onto the start of the Cameron Mountain trail, I saw some ski tracks, but they only went in about 50 feet where the human on top of the skis sized up the narrow uphill ascent and quit.  I had to put on the snow shoes for the bulk of the afternoon, but never did sink down very far.  There were no flat places to put my feet on today; all of it was uneven, even sections of bare ground and also numerous stream crossings.  I had to take of my gloves, and jacket, and hat.  I was hiking in just a t-shirt and long sleeved polypro turtleneck.  It was really sunny and very bright out.  I was pleased I packed some sun glasess or else I’d be snow blind tonight.
I have heard from so many fellow backpackers these past few days.  Radar, Paddy-O, General Lee, Rockdawg, Marvin, v8, Peter, Auntie Mame, and Lifetraveler either called me or emailed me.  I am  also working on some AT thru hikers who don’t know they will be thru-hikers just yet.  I have kept it a secret.

One of my e-mails was  from Chronic, a two time thru-hiker of the AT , who has invited me ( No, I think I invited myself!) to do Trail maintenance.    His section is from Black Brook Notch (South Arm Road) UP to Old Blue, here in Maine. There’s a lot of snow up there, so he’s probably going to do a reconnaisance around June 4-5, without equipment, and then set a specific time to go up with chainsaws and the rest of the equipment after that.  Here is a picture of the two of us from last fall:

     I have also received a phone call today from Troutbum, a man who approached me at Trail Days last year and asked me if I’d mind talking to him about the AT. I remember spending about 45 minutes with him, and now he is on his own AT thru-hike, and doing really well. he sends me emails and calls me.  He will be at Fontana Dam in 2 days.

I also have received a paniced e-mail from a woman named Kristin, who is set to soon depart on her own AT thru-hike. She is confused, scared, worried, and petrified of going on her hike.

What I told her is what I’d tell anyone who would be on the verge of a similar great adventure:

     “Of course you should be scared. Anyone who sets off on such an adventure as yours has to have what appear to be unbearable feelings of fright, loathing, doubt and dread. These are all the genuine feelings that adventurers have had since the dawn of travel. We are so trained to be shoe horned into this world that it takes a superhuman effort to shed it, to turn our backs on it, and go to Springer Mountain.
I think you are correct in thinking you are dying, because you are. You are dying for change, yet you have no idea what will come to replace the parts of you that you will shed on the trail. The person your now are that leaves in a few days may bear little resemblance to the individual that will emerge from the top of the big K .
So I guess you can leave with huge feelings welling up inside you and lean on the part of you that knows this is what you need to do right now to enter your true life.
Take a bunch of Kleenex with you.”

The Bare Earth

It is getting close to 3/27 , the first anniversary of starting my Appalachian Trail thru-hike .

A couple of days ago, I was back on the Uncle Tom trail, a local path through the forest right here in Maine . I took my snow shoes with me, as there was still two to three feet of snow in the woods. As I ascended up through the first pasture, I glimpsed areas that were actually clear of snow, an amazing occurrence this record breaking snowfall year, and the product of favorable drift patterns and the effects of the southern exposure. We haven’t seen bare ground around here since early November, when were were hit by the first of what have been unrelenting snow storms.

I moved over to the woods road that had at least two feet of snow covering it, my snow shoes still tucked under my arm. I kept expecting to drop through the crust, but the base here had been lying so long under the weight of the now melted/evaporated cover that it was like concrete.

I left the snow shoes on the trail where I would gather them up on the way back home. I was able to proceed without them, right up to the top of Moody Mountain , as I tentatively, but successfully crunched my path skyward.

Right near the summit, surrounded by ancient gnarled spruce and birch, lay a singular bare patch of ground, some six feet long and four feet wide. It resembled a plot from a grave yard. I was momentarily stilled to have these unsettled thoughts and feelings well up, to have my own transience surface. I thought soberingly , “Some day, for me.”

As I stepped past the snow pack onto the plot, it hit me that this was the first time since even before Thanksgiving that I was able to place my aching feet on bare earth. That moment, all felt so correct. I knew that more of this is what I achingly crave.