QuickPost - September 9, 2010

9-9-10 brings a bit of wisdom to the scene.
Yesterday I listened to a young undergrad speak in confidence in the share-circles. Rory and I ate a late breakfast on the Lodge porch and the group was kind enough to let us sit with them. One young woman, whom I do not know, shared remarkable wisdom for a young age. I'm surprised I had not encountered or articulated this idea before because it resonates so strongly with me.

"Everyone has something awesome about the, and if you're not sure what your thing is don't worry, because the people talking to you have figured it out."

PoemPost - September 8, 2010

During an overnight at the Lodge (Lodj) during Trips, I found that E., a Dartmouth '11 who I had met a few times, became a friend and buddy among the masses, even just for an hour or so. In the high energy (and potentially stress) environment in which she works I wrote her a poem this next afternoon while R. napped. Read in the cadence of Dr. Seuss.

Blitzmail is funny,
really, it's true
Because yesterday I felt
like I really know you.
It turns out that I don't
but no need to worry
with this "D" thing in common
it'll come in a hurry.
You see the next letters
they are "O" and "C"
The trust it comes quickly
So the friendship may be.
Add in understanding
and what do we get?
A thing they call family
Even if we just met.
My family I take them
wherever I go
In this thing called my heart
and I want them to know
that whatever they need
can be there
sometimes all it takes
is a phone call to share.
So in this adventure
this thing we call life
full of great stories
people, landscapes, and strife
I hope my new family--
though they may be new--
knows their cushion of support
just changed: it grew!

PoemPost - September 7, 2010

To the hospitable folks at Lakes of the Clouds, especially Tom '10, Emma Colby'10, Dom, and Libby. It was a pleasure sharing your company.

A Poem in the Morning, Remembering a Fog-Free Evening

1300 feet below
the highest point around
the wind whips up strong against
a warm and cozy sound
the sound of mellow laughter
rounded into smiles
gets softened as the strings are plucked
by a melody hiked for miles
see in this cedar homestead
astride the frigid Lakes
guests rest their weary heads together
the croo sweet music makes.

PoemPost - September 6, 2010

Madison Hut, the oldest hut in the Appalachian Mountain Club (AMC) system, is being rebuilt for the next 9-10 months. Though the hut has burned down at least once and been rebuilt a couple times, this is exciting because they will be modernizing the facility (ie. putting in insulation). Yes, this will involve lots of new materials (hopefully as many reused as possible) and lots of helicopter flights and lots of money, but for a facility that runs off of propane, wind, and solar this is a step forward because now it will run off of wind, solar, and propane only as backup. It is a methodology we all can learn from. If they can use less for a group of 50+ on top of a mountain, I think we can all cut back.

Last night was the final night of operation for Madison Hut as-we-know-it.

A Cold and Rainy Afternoon Dedicated to the Fourth President

With sore muscles
Squat down and rest on the bench
Head turns to the left and say hello
Hips shift, right hand on right thigh
Laughter, raised eyebrows
Right leg up and over the saddle
Sitting at the table "properly"
A smile.
Reach right, like a lunge
The laminated map comes to the center
Pointing, furrowed brow, insight
and discussion. Stories of the past.
Of woes and wonder in the wild.
A steaming cup of...anything.
The first white stuff of the Fall descends from the sky
The last night of 69 years for the hut nestled in the saddle.

QuickPost - September 5, 2010

Wisdom.

How old, how wise, how experienced must one be to share wisdom? For the first time in my life, I found my own thoughts worthy of being quoted. After leaving 30 minutes later than expected so I could hum and sing the Salty Dog Rag for the Awesome Doggin' Leaders and '14s (Nature Painting and Photography getting picked up at Appalachia to go to the Moosilauke Ravine Lodge), I began my way up the ever-popular Valley Way trail. Overcast, with a few sprinkles here and there, "weather" was clearly coming in over the Presidential Range. I made my way up to Madison Hut and reached the structure about 6 minutes before some spitting and sprinkling turned into a downright cold rain. I watched unprepared groups seek refuge in the hut. I saw an intelligent hiker who had put plastic bags over his hands and then gripped his hiking poles. And I came up with this saying:

"A wise person once said, 'Always carry a dry pair of socks--you'll never know when you'll need mittens.'"

QuickPost-Sept 3, 2010

As I embarked up the Burnt Mill Tr to West Royce the humidity was heavy as the sweat weighed me down. The views were minimal except of the haze, and the heat! Oh the heat!

I ascended a soil-laden trail slope--a rarity in the White Mountains, but not in the Wild River Valley. I paused--perhaps to take a humid breath--and before me saw a shimmering strand. I traced with my eyes to the base of the strand and found a inch-worm slowly descending to the ground. First about 2 feet off the ground and within one minute the inch-worm was on soil. I am reminded to walk slowly I try to complete these hikes quickly yet I could have easily missed the inch-worm.

Once I reached the top of the hill it wasn't so steep and I could hike/walk/run fast again. At the junction between the Royce's I turn towards West (never to summit East!) and am hit with the most amazing Olfactorious Glory! Was it pine? mountain? granite or other rock? moss? moose crap? The rare spruce? I could not believe the high of this smell. I felt like an egregious hippie but holy crap that smell was good.