|

A Moronic Move in Maine

In 1995, I was hired to write a book called Outside Magazine’s Adventure Guide to New England. My task was to partake in as many outdoor adventures as possible both summer and winter and write about that experience. Seemed pretty simple for the five southernmost states in New England. Then there was Maine. Just the thought of traversing close to 3500 miles of coastline had me second-guessing my decision. An even more absurd task was trying to find the hidden gems in Maine’s vast interior. I needed help, so I contacted Nancy Marshall Communications, the public relations firm that was hired by the State of Maine’s Office of Tourism to work with media.
 
Much to my delight, I would quickly learn that few people know Maine better than Nancy Marshall and none are as impassioned about its travel opportunities. Nancy divulged everything, from the French chef working the stoves at Chesuncook Lake House to a Registered Maine Guide who would bring guests at the Rangeley Inn on a 5 am paddle to view moose to the small B&B in Georgetown that specialized in sea kayaking.
 
Since that fateful day, I would work with Nancy and her amazing team of Charlene Williams and Kevin Gove on more than 100 stories on Maine for The Boston Globe, Yankee Magazine, Outside Magazine, Sierra and many other publications. Just this past year, I would snowmobile and see the Northern Lights in Aroostook County, sail Linekin Bay, and visit the Cushing house that inspired Andrew Wyeth’s famous “Christina’s World.” All of those story ideas came from the people at Nancy Marshall Communications.
 
Now I have learned that after 20 years on the job, as of last week, the Maine Office of Tourism will replace Nancy Marshall Communications with a PR firm from New York. Oh sure, there will continue to be travel stories about Portland, Freeport, Camden, and Bar Harbor, locales New Yorkers know best. For those of you who work in the travel industry in the rest of the state, the Maine government just threw you off the Penobscot Narrows Bridge.
 
|

Hiking in the White Mountains

There’s a reason they call New Hampshire the Granite State. But surprisingly most of the rock you find on the trails is quartz, gneiss, and schist, not granite. Nevertheless, if you’re hiking at the higher elevations of the Whites, you’re going to encounter rocks in every shape and size and every form of obstacle. Trails like the Crawford Path, the oldest hiking trail in use in the country, circa 1819, start off as dirt, but quickly change to rock. Once you rise above treeline after summiting Mount Pierce on the famous ridge walk, you’re entering an alpine wilderness of wildflowers, gnarly krumholz, and a mind-boggling panorama of mountains and ridges in every direction. Everywhere you look is a carpet of green, rising and falling along the slopes. 
 
Water was our friend on the first three days of hiking, from the Gale River Trail all the way up to Mizpah Springs Hut. At first, the rushing stream was just a delight to look at while walking along water’s edge or crossing over rivers on countless rock bridges. By Day Two, you want to soak your feet in the water of Zealand Falls after a long hike, dip your bandana into the cool waters every chance you get on a hot humid climb up to Mizpah. Thankfully, there were numerous opportunities to cool down and relax. 
 
Then you reach Lakes of the Clouds Hut and it’s all hardscrabble rock the last 1.4 miles to the summit of Mount Washington. Strong winds were thrusting against the windows of our room at the hut the night before our ascent. When we woke to Emily playing violin, we were socked in to a cloud. The thought of attempting to summit Washington, the highest peak in New England and a beast of mountain to bag in often volatile conditions, put many ill at ease. But off we went, and lo and behold, the winds subsided, the clouds opened up at the 6,288-foot summit and we were treated to wondrous views of Mounts Jefferson, Adams, and Madison. 
 
In a col between Adams and Madison, a stone hut was built 125 summers ago announcing the debut of the Appalachian Mountain Club. We wouldn’t make it to Madison Spring Hut on this journey, but there’s always another challenge, another memorable experience waiting in the future. I’d like to thank the AMC for a great week of hiking hut-to-hut and getting my summer off to the perfect start. 
         
 
 
|

Friendships are Easily Made When Hiking Hut-to-Hut in the Whites

Once you venture beyond Mizpah Springs Hut to Mount Pierce, you’re above treeline, walking through the Presidential Range on the historic Crawford Path ridge walk. You’re entirely exposed to the weather since there’s really nowhere to hide. Perhaps it’s this vulnerability that allows people to open up as individuals, sharing secrets and stories they wouldn’t normally share with others down below. Or maybe it’s simply the chance to join in the same adventure as your fellow backpackers, partaking in a memorable experience you’ll remember for years. Whatever the reason, folks are more apt to open up when hiking hut-to-hut. During the course of the week, we heard poignant stories about people overcoming breast cancer and recent divorces by meeting a new challenge like hiking up some of the 48 peaks that are over 4,000 feet in the White Mountains. 
 
We shared sardines and travel stories with a couple from Beijing we met on the trail, went over the maps every day with two women from Quebec City who were on the exact same route as us, and yes, talked about our often harried lives with two women from Oxford and Sturbridge, Mass. With communal dining every evening and morning at the long hut tables, it’s quite easy to meet new people. At breakfast at Lakes of the Clouds, we sat next to a grandmother and her granddaughter, not more 6 years old, and it was one of the sweetest images I’ll remember. You’ll also meet folks in your bunks, tease the guy who snores all night and the one who has a bladder the size of a pea, waking up every hour to use the toilet. In the end, you’ll realize you have the best souvenir of all, friendship. You exchange addresses and hope to meet again on another trail, another hut, another experience to share together. 
 
|

The Talented, Multi-Tasking Croo at the AMC Huts

 

 
"You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body 
love what it loves."
 
At 6:30 am at the Galehead Hut, I awoke to Kimball reading this poem, Wild Geese, by Mary Oliver. At 6:30 am at Zealand Falls, I rose to the sounds of banjo being played by Levi. Then there was guitar and sweet song at Mizpah Springs and the lovely sounds of Emily playing the violin in the hallway at Lakes of the Clouds. This is the way you wake up at the AMC Huts. No alarm, no Reveille, just music or verse. 
 
Oh, by the way, Kimball, Levi, Emily and the rest of the amazing Croo team at the AMC Huts also pack in over 60 pounds of food and pack out over 60 pounds of garbage twice a week to trailheads that can be a long as 4.6 miles away if you happen to be working at Galehead. They make a scrumptious dinner of fresh baked bread, soup, salad, entrees like lasagna and stuffed shells, and heavenly desserts such as blondie brownies for up to 90 people if you happen to be staying at Lakes of the Clouds, the largest hut. Then they do it all over again at breakfast, when served oatmeal, pancakes, eggs, and bacon. They clean the bathrooms and ensure that all rooms are tidy. After dinner, they introduce themselves and answer questions like what’s for dessert? After breakfast, they perform zany antics in costume like the Saturday Night Live skit Hans and Frans (“We want to pump you up”) to ensure that you pack out all your garbage, fold your blankets properly on the bunk bed, and tip. You best tip the Croo after all the work they’ve done! 
 
Want more? After breakfast at Zealand Falls, Levi presented young AJ with his Junior Naturalist badge for completing his workbook. But first he had to wear a faux-raccoon cap a la Daniel Boone, recite about 20 lines out loud on how he would be a steward of the land, and then throw that raccoon cap in the air like graduation day. After dinner at Lakes of the Clouds, naturalist Sarah took us on a 45-minute walk to see the diapensia, bog laurel, and bunchberry, alpine wildlflowers in bloom. Every morning, the Croo told us the weather and advised us on the best trails to make your ascent or descent based on the forecast. 
 
More than 120 college students applied for the 12 available spots at the Croo this summer. They come to be part of a proud tradition, one that’s recorded in photographs and numerous books found in each hut’s library. If you have any misgivings about the next generation being slackers, lazy, staring at a screen all day, then hightail it to one of the huts to see these energetic and enthusiastic college kids in action. You’ll leave with a heady dose of optimism and a genuine appreciation for what the Croo does all summer. At Zealand Falls Hut, I met a man, Willie, who worked at that same hut in 1964, returning from his home of Fort Worth, Texas. Once part of the AMC Croo, it never leaves you. 
 

 

|

The AMC Huts at 125 Years Young

The 8 AMC huts in the White Mountains are spaced a day’s hike apart. Though not all hikes are created equal. For example, the 7-mile long trek from Galehead to Zealand Falls Hut was a thigh burner with close to 5,000 feet of elevation change, including a grueling uphill climb on the AT from Galehead Hut to the 4,902-foot summit of South Twin mountain. While the 4.8-mile hike from Mizpah Spring to Lakes of the Clouds Hut, if weather is decent, is for the most part a level ridge walk with astounding mountain views all around you. 
 
Whether your legs are weary or feeling strong after your day of bagging peaks, you can rest assured that once you arrive at any of the huts, they are clean and exceptionally well-run by the Hut Crew or Croo as they’re known in these parts. The AMC runs a well-oiled machine. All rooms and bathroom are dirt-free. Lemonade, hot water for tea, and usually a snack like frosted carrot cake is waiting upon arrival. At Galehead and Zealand Falls, we were told by the Croo to find any available bunk bed. Mizpah Spring and Lakes of the Clouds had designated rooms. My wife and I brought bed sheets, which worked fine, but many hikers simply bring a sleeping bag to throw down on the mattress. There are hooks nearby to hang wet clothing (after a day of sweating), jackets, and enough room to store packs and hiking boots.
 
With such a long legacy, you would expect these huts to be small cabins in the woods. 125 years ago, they might have started that way. But the AMC has been revamping these lodgings for years. So now the Lakes of the Clouds has a glorious dining room with floor to ceiling glass windows that overlook the panorama of ridges and peaks. Both Galehead and Zealand Falls offer front porches with more magnificent mountain views. Mizpah Spring’s dining room is a big cavernous space, with high ceiling, where people love to congregate and share hiking stories. At Zealand Falls and Lakes of the Clouds, water is close by to go for a swim or simply cool off those overworked feet. Suffice to say that Joe Dodge, the founder of the AMC huts system knew exactly what he was doing when he chose these locales for his huts. So bite into that fresh baked honey-oat bread and gape in awe at the panoply of peaks, the reward for clambering over rocks and roots all day. 
 
(Photo by Lisa Leavitt)
 
|

Hut-to-Hut Hiking in New Hampshire’s White Mountains with the AMC

In 1876, 39 outdoor enthusiasts met in Boston and formed an organization devoted to exploration of the White Mountains. Several of the members had visited Europe and knew firsthand about Alpine huts, mountain refuges that sheltered hikers. They wanted to build this form of accommodation for the growing legion of avid "trampers." Twelve years later, dreams became reality when the stone Madison Spring cabin was opened in a col between Mount Adams and Mount Madison. The cost was 50 cents and you had to bring your own food. To commemorate the 125th anniversary of the opening of the AMC’s first hut, I spent last week hiking to 4 of the 8 high huts, with my wife Lisa, on assignment for The Washington Post and The Boston Globe. 
 
We started on the Gale River Trail, listening to rapids as we slowly made our ascent through a forest of birches and pines, going from forgiving soil to the unforgiving rock we would grow accustom to over the course of the trek. Thunder serenaded us throughout the day, but the skies didn’t open up until we were at the Galehead Hut. After a hearty dinner of turkey vegetable soup, freshly baked honey-oatmeal bread, and stuffed shells marinara, Lisa and I went outside to see a rainbow and listen to the birdcalls of the white-throated sparrow, black pole warbler, and bicknell’s thrush. 
 
Built in 1932 at an elevation of 3800 feet, Galehead is the most remote hut, 4.6 miles to the nearest trailhead. You’re lost in a panorama of peaks, from Galehead Mountain, perched just above the hut to Stinson Mountain, 25 miles away. Over the course of the next five days, as we hiked over 26 miles with an elevation gain and loss over 15,000 feet, that Japanese silkscreen of ridge upon ridge was never far from view, always luring us to put one step in front of another. We would face adversity from trails flooded with water, humidity, black flies, the threat of thunderstorms on ridge walks, and ascents and descents that at times felt like a Marine Corp obstacle course. But when you arrive at the next AMC hut, each a day hike apart, lemonade in hand, looking at this exquisite view atop the peaks, all is good. You’ve accepted the challenge and this is your just dessert, one of the many reasons why the huts continue to thrive 125 years later. I felt fortunate to be a part of that history. 
 
 
|

Five Favorite Adventures in National Parks, Rock Climbing Joshua Tree

Three hours east of Los Angeles, huge boulder outcroppings tan in the Mojave Desert sun at Joshua Tree National Park. More than 100 million years ago, these jumbled piles of bedrock cooled and hardened into fantastic shapes. Today, there’s over 4,000 rock climbs to choose from, appropriate for any level of expertise. Reserve a site at one of two favorite climbing campsites, Hidden Valley or Ryan (no fee; first come/first serve), get your gear together, and hit that rock face.   
          
Climbing in Joshua Tree requires more balance than strength so trust your feet. That low-angle slab, Echo Rock, boasts a high concentration of quality routes at every level. Most of these routes are bolted or can be top-roped. New bolting is prohibited in the park. At the Wonderland of Rocks, you’ll find the largest collection of domes and walls within the park. Wander through the formations eyeing the cracks and then make your line up. You most likely will catch sight of bighorn sheep below.
 
Next week, I’ll be describing the special moments of my hut-to-hut hike in the White Mountains. I spent the past week trekking with my wife, Lisa, to four of the Appalachian Mountain Club’s lodges atop the 4,000 and 5,000-foot peaks, including a night at the spectacular Lake of the Clouds Hut. So stay tuned! 
 
|

Five Favorite Adventures in National Parks, Paddling the Boundary Waters

Home to a mind-boggling 1,100 lakes and 1,300 miles of canoe routes, solitude in the Boundary Waters is only a half-day’s paddle from the town of Ely, Minnesota. Expect to hear the yodel of the loon echoing across the early morning mist and to see moose wading chest deep in the clear waters. Local folk save their paddling for September, when famished mosquitoes, biting flies, and babbling homo sapiens are long gone.

 
|

Five Favorite Adventures in National Parks, Hiking the Narrows in Zion

Zion’s most impressive hike is the Narrows, where you walk in the Virgin River through a 1,000-foot-deep-chasm that’s a mere 20-feet wide. Check with a ranger on water levels, but usually a minimum age of 8 is advisable. You’ll need a wet suit and booties, which you can rent in town, because of the cool water temperatures. That’s a small price to pay to have this magnificent slot to yourself. With each step, the walls become narrower and narrower, and you quickly became lost in this paradigm of sandstone. Sun peeks through the notch of blue sky above, illuminating the walls in various shades of caramel, rouge, and tan. Water pours down sides of the curved walls to enhance the slick appeal. Amble through as much of the river as you want before turning back. 

 
|

Five Favorite Adventures in National Parks, Biking Acadia’s Carriage Path Trails

The Park Loop around Acadia can be congested in the summer months, so get out of the car and play in the pines. A 43-mile network of carriage path trails, narrow hard-packed gravel pathways best suited for the fat wheels of a mountain bike, line the entire eastern half of Mount Desert Island. Rent bikes at Bar Harbor’s Acadia Bike (48 Cottage Street) and then head to the shores of Eagle Lake, where a relatively level carriage path trail circles this large body of water under towering firs and over century-old stone bridges. At the southern part of the lake, Acadia’s highest peak, Cadillac Mountain, comes into view, before the trail descends on a fun downhill run. Afterwards, treat the kids to warm popovers at the Jordan Pond Gatehouse.