Adventure blog with a real job
While my favorite trail feature is a ridge line with dramatic valleys to either side, open ledges or exposed slab come in a close second. My beloved Welch-Dickey loop crosses two summits with spectacular views, but what makes it special to me is that so much of the hike is over bare granite slabs- where I can geek out over the exposed geology of the mountain.
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This weekend found me backpacking in the Carter-Moriah range in the northern part of the White Mountain National Forest, following the Appalachian Trail most of the way.
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With yesterday’s hike up and over Mt. Carrigain, I’m more than halfway through the list of New Hampshire 4000 footers. Instead of doing the more common 10-mile out and back, we opted for the longer loop which took us down from the summit into the Pemi Wilderness in the area that early surveyors and loggers called Desolation.
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Any good alpinist will tell you to expect the the air temperature to drop by about 3 degrees Fahrenheit for every 1,000 feet elevation gained, so what would make more sense on a hot July weekend than heading uphill?
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The federal holiday for US Independence Day was this Friday, and since long weekends in the summer are a precious commodity, we took to the trails for a few days of backpacking in Pemigewasset Wilderness.
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The weather for this weekend didn’t look particularly promising— there were showers and thunderstorms predicted starting on Saturday morning, but with contradictory forecasts and a promising radar map (and with rain gear) we set out under cloudy skies to take our chances with a hike over Blueberry Mountain.
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The scientific literature is pretty clear that spending time outside is good for health and wellbeing, and I’m happy to provide a testimonial in support! Work is intense this week, and most days my meetings extend well into the evening. When I was unexpectedly freed from my laptop at 5PM yesterday, what I thought I wanted to do was collapse, but what I did instead was go for a hike (and to paraphrase a local poet, that made all the difference).
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When I was a child, my mother taught me the names of the native plants and wildflowers growing in the neighborhood, and to this day my distinction between flowers and weeds is, at best, imprecise. I like knowing the names of the things growing around me, and greeting them by name and season. The blooming plumes of aster are for me a more poignant harbinger of Fall than the first red leaves of the maple.
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This spring, nothing has gone as expected. The new normal is no longer new, and not yet normal. I am privileged and fortunate in many ways— I am safe and healthy, I am still employed and have meaningful work to do. I am grateful to have easy access to beautiful outdoor places where I can watch the grip of Winter relax as Spring eases into the forests and mountains.
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Since last Monday, my employer has strongly recommended that all employees who have the ability to work from home do so. I’ve chosen to interpret work from home as rusticate in a cabin just outside the White Mountain National Forest. After a work week glued to laptop video conferences, two days of bluebird skies and winter hiking were an exceptional relief, and also perfectly aligned with social distancing guidelines.
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