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Adventures in the Wild

Cross Country Skiing: 'Nothing to it'

January 19th 2009 15:47

I had the opportunity to try cross country skiing with my dad this past weekend, you know, during the huge blizzard we had here in the Northeast? My dad is crazy like that, and clearly I am too because I went with him.

Anyway, I dressed appropriately for it and practiced on the skis for a few minutes in the driveway before taking off with my dad. I was a bit unsteady, but able to move along okay. I am in reasonably good physical shape, so I figured, nothing to it. Between the wind in my face and my poor balance on skiis, it was quite a workout. We trucked it around the field across the street from my dad's and then down the snowmobile trail where we encountered some hills *gulp*.

Dad kept telling me, 'nothing to it, just bend your knees and you'll be just fine'. So I try it after watching him glide down the hill as gracefully as can be. The term 'nothing to it' did not quite describe my expereince. I started out okay at first, but then came to a dip in the hill that threw me way off balance, I fell backward onto my butt and slid down the rest of the hill will by butt on my skiis and my poles in the air. My dad, at the bottom of the hill, kept trying to say something, but was laughing to hard to get a word out. I slid to his feet and threw him a very dirty look. 'Nothiing to it, huh?' I said. It took him a couple minutes to compose himself and ask if I was alright. I was fine, but I was reminded of why I never used to trust what my dad said when it came to adventures in the wild.

There never is 'nothing to it' when it comes to my dad. Trust me.

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Posted By: Spazz - Category: No Category

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Hiking with a clumsy friend 101

January 6th 2009 14:43

Hiking is one of my favorite adventures in the wild. I love to conquer a mountain from time to time and enjoy the view at the top. Recently, I invited a friend to hike up Chick Hill with me, a relatively easy hike in my opinion, that follows an access road right to the top. There were, however, a few problems to note: It was rather icy in places on the road, my friend is one of the clumsiest persons I have ever met and she is also 6 months pregnant.

So we get to the mountain and start up. Mind you, she isn't even on the icy parts, just the snow, and she already starts tripping. I immediately offer to call it quits and we could just go for a walk at one of our houses. She says no, and we press on. I chalk it up to the pregnancy, but she denies it. She claims that she has always been clumsy. She continues to trip every few steps and I start to wonder how she has made it this far in life without dying or at least causing herself serious brain damage. I have not tripped or slipped once and I am the one walking on the icy parts so that she can walk safely in the snow!

We stop a few times so that she can rest, pee, take off her jacket, have a snack and we even observe some deer and moose tracks in the snow. We finally reach the top. It is a gorgeous view. As chilly as it is this winter day, it is even worse however, at the top, as there is no shield from the wind. We take a few pictures and head back down.

I am nervous as we start to head down, thinking that she is bound to hill herself going down this thing if she had trouble coming up. I am regretting bringing her up here and thinking that I will burn in Hell for all eternity if anything happens to her. As I am beating myself up all the while down, she is striding down without a hitch. I am in shock! I am going slowly and carefully to make sure she is okay and she is getting ahead of me! Fair enough, so I start to increase my stride, confident that if she is not tripping, I'll be just fine.

I may have done just fine heading up, but challenging myself to keep up with my "clumsy" friend on the way down proved hazardous to my health. This time I was slipping and tripping several times over. She kept asking me if I was alright. I told her no problem, just trying to keep pace with her. Luckily, we reached the bottom with no injuries to either one of us, especially me. I guess it just goes to show...
... be careful hiking in the winter, especially with clumsy friends and clumsy selves!

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Posted By: Spazz - Category: No Category

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Borestone Mountain: 'Trails' and Tribulations

January 5th 2009 16:21

I have hiked a lot in my life. I have always tried to maintain a good level of physical fitness, with some years being better than others for this of course. I have hiked Borestone Mountain before when I was a kiddo and recalled it being quite easy.

A little over a decade had passed and I had the opportunity to hike it again with my dad and my husband this past summer. My dad is in peak physical condition, always has been. I would describe myself as having a moderate level of physical fitness. My husband...well let's just say I have to dangle a steak in front of his nose to get him to do anything physically active with me.

So this particular day, we had been camping with my dad and dad offered to take us up Borestone. I was excited as I hadn't done it in so long, my husband asked questions like, 'How long is it?' and 'How steep is it?', valid concerns, nonetheless irrelevent if we are to hike it anyway.

We get to the parking lot and start on our journey, the first half of the hike being an access road that leads to the toll house. My husband is already getting a bit winded by the occasional uphill legs of our 1/2 mile excursion to the house. We reach the toll house, located by a beautiful lake that is nestled in under the comanding mountain above it. I stare in awe at the beauty of it, my dad chats with the ranger and my husband stands in disbelief of what we are about to climb. Not only is he a tad out of shape, but he is also a tad afraid of heights. We begin the second leg of our journey to the peak of Borestone. At first, it is a fairly even trail through the woods, my dad happily whistles a Neil Young tune when he is not flapping his gums about the woods, the mountain, hiking, and anything else he can think of. I quietly enjoy the scenery and the time with my two favorite guys, walking behind my dad, while my husband lags behind me a bit, looking less than impressed.

We reach the steep part: the part when you need your arms as well to climb up some rock faces. My dad continues to talk and whistle, his breathing not even remotely labored as he climbs. I am a bit red faced and out of breath, but able to continue without a problem. I look back at my husband, who has stopped and is bent over with his hands on his knees, breathing very heavily and his face is as red as a lobster. My dad stops to see what the hold up is. "You alright kid?" my dad calls to my husband, "It is the journey and not the destination that matters" he says wisely. "Come on honey" I call to my husband, "You can do it, we are almost there, are you having fun?". My husband stands up and looking rather pissed off, states "This is fun?!?!?!?" I can't help but chuckle. I grew up doing this stuff with my dad all the time and have always loved it, my husband on the other hand, grew up riding motorcycles, which incidently doesn't require much physical fitness.

We finally reach the top to enjoy the view. It is fantastic. My dad goes on and on and my husband sits on a rock, refusing to look out over the edge. I am glad fot eh accomplishment and the view. My husband is just glad that he hasn't died yet.

We journey back down after taking a few pictures and admiring the view and what we had accomplished. My husband is very glad when we reach the car. He sits in the back seat and falls asleep after vowing never to hike again. I think that he is a brave man and a man who must really love me to do something that I really love with me and my dad, even though he hates it.

I made him a thick, juicy steak for supper when we got home. He said maybe he'd try it again in the future, just not that mountain again.

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Posted By: Spazz - Category: No Category

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Mis-Adventures in Whitewater Canoe Racing

January 5th 2009 15:51

As a general rule, if it ain't broke, don't fix it, right? This does not usually apply to those of us with adventureous streaks.

During the Souadabscook Stream canoe race here in the great state of Maine several years ago, my dad and I were nearing the end of the race, which happens to be the best part, as it contains the best whitewater. We came to a section that travels beneath an interstate bridge and forks off into two different paths. We normally would take the drop to the left, as we knew it like the backs of our hands. This particular year however, where the water was unusually high, we thought we would chance the right side, as it was shorter and we needed to gain a few seconds on the competition who were nearing. We headed for it, only to find that it was approximately a five foot drop! In a kayak, you can very easily bounce back from that and keep going. Not so much in a canoe. We did not fall in, surprisingly enough, but we did manage to almost fully submerge the canoe as it quickly filled with water. We hurridly paddled as best as we could to the bank nearby and hauled with all of our might to get that canoe out of the water. We somehow managed it and were able to dump the water out, a feat that was met by pure adreneline, I swear. We saw our competition nearing the drop above us, so we quickly piled in and shoved off to finish the last leg of the race

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