National Trails Day will be held again this year on Saturday, June 4th. It's just a little over a month away, but I wanted to make sure you saved the date.

NTD is a great way to give a little something back to the trail community, so I'm hoping that many of you will plan on getting involved in one of the many activities that are scheduled to take place around Maine on that day.

So mark your calendars. More info to come...

Well, you may or may not know that MOACers tend to be a rather frugal bunch, doing trips on the cheap wherever and whenever possible. We're also a very close and friendly bunch too.

And both of these points are well illustrated in the photo below by my friend Gerard Hickey, where a group of us on an early March ski trip to Killington figured out how to maximize our savings on accomodations.

Ah, togetherness! It's a wonderful thing!

Calling all gear heads!

Just in case you've been hiding under a rock on the trail somewhere and haven't heard, Eastern Mountain Sports in Portland is having their big 20% off everything in the store sale this weekend.

Time to part with some cabbage and buy some new stuff!

Don't need any new gear, you say? Impossible.

I say that all the time, but get me through the front door of the store and I'm a deadman. I can ALWAYS find something that I absolutely NEED. Never fails.

So give in to temptation, visit the nice folks at the new EMS store, and make yourself happy with some new stuff. At 20% off no less!

What do you plan on buying?

Registration numbers are still down for this year's Trek Across Maine so I just wanted to make another plea for support of this fantastic fundraising event for the American Lung Association of Maine, which hopes to raise somewhere around $1.2 mil to support their many important health efforts thoughout the year.

At least 300 more riders are needed to meet the goal of 2,200 riders, so please consider registering soon. And if you can't make the ride, consider ponying up a little extra when you make your pledge.

Thanks.

Gray skies, cold rain. I love Maine and all, but geez...

I've had enough. I need sun and I need it now.

You know that ad on the tube for Southwest Airlines? The "wanna get away?" one?

Well, I wanna get away. To some place sunny, warm and dry.

So, naturally I googled for a place that might fit that description and up popped 6 sunny places: Cook Islands, Honduras, Northern Mariana Islands, Palau, Tonga and Vanuatu.

Tropical getaways all of them. And right now, any one of them would do.

Palm trees, warm water, sand between the toes. Sunshine!

I need to get on the phone to my favorite travel agent...

Wanna join me?

... wet!

Yes, it's getting to be paddling season for sure. Finally.

The hard core kayakers are already out there (still out there?!). And soon enough the rest of us crazy river kayakers, sea kayakers, canoeists and river rafters will be out there too.

I can barely wait. There's nothing like getting out on the water, is there?

But you can't be out there without a cool, new paddling T-shirt! My old college friend Robin makes them and they're wicked sharp. Check 'em out. I think I'll probably need one or two at least...

So are you ready to paddle? What do you have planned for trips?

We have bugs here in Maine? Really? What bugs?

Okay, maybe there's a few. I guess even I have to admit to having seen one or two black flies, several mosquitoes, and maybe a no-see-um or three in the Maine woods over the years.

But what's the big deal?

Anyway, I kind of like the bugs. For selfish reasons.

A large, persistent, buzzing cloud of bugs helps keep the visitor population down. And helps keeps my favorite trails and campsites somewhat free and clear, at least through June or early July.

But bugs have even more benefits.

When you slap your arm clean of them and a few bugs fall into your soup, well, that's just added protein. All organic. I also find that, after inhaling a mouthful of bugs, and having a good coughing fit, that it helps to clear my lungs, so they're good for my health.

Bugs also add a nice touch to your smile when they get caught in your teeth. No worse than broccoli or poppy seeds. And of course, a goodly amount of bloody bug-bite pock marks all over you makes you wicked attractive to your girlfriend when you get home from a trip in the woods, so you're bound to get some sympathetic TLC.

So, all in all, a few bugs in the Maine woods really aren't a bad thing after all now, don't you think?

With my good 'ol Woodsman bug dope I'm ready, so bring 'em on...

What's your favorite bug potion or ingenius solution for dealing with bug season in Maine?

No getting around it, the weather was crappy this weekend. A real motivation sapper. I did get out for a few walks at least, yucked it up with friends a bit, hung around the house and read a lot.

But the bikes, the skis, the kayak, the hiking boots all sat idle. Not my usual M.O. Probably not yours either I'll bet.

As a little pick-me-up to get me through the cold, wet, gray weekend I thumbed through my precious copy of Readings from the Hurricane Island Outward Bound School for a few inspirational words...

"Youth is not a time of life; it is a state of mind; it is not a matter of rosy cheeks, red lips and supple knees; it is a matter of the will, a quality of the imagination, a vigour of the emotions; it is the freshness of the deep springs of life. Youth means predominance of courage over timidity, of adventure over the love of ease. This often exists in a man of sixty more than a boy of twenty. Nobody grows old merely by a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals. Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul. Worry, doubt, self-distrust, fear and despair--these bow the heart and turn the spirit back to dust. You are as young as your faith, as old as your doubt; as young as your self-confidence, as old as your fear; as young as your hopes, as old as your despair."
-- B. Ullman

The American Lung Association's Trek Across Maine, to be held June 17-19, is still short 500 of the 2,200 total bikers they were hoping to have participate in order to meet their fundraising goal of $1.2 million.

If you are interested in riding in this great event or making a pledge, please do so soon.

I had a couple of short hikes planned for today, but I let the weather get the best of me. Just as well. It's pouring down out there now. The hikes will have to wait.

So what to do? Maybe time to kick back and do some reading...

Backpacker, Outside and National Geographic Adventure magazines all arrived in the mail this week, so I think I'll start on them first.

I also want to take some more serious notes on a possible cross-Ireland trek from Paddy Dillon's The Irish Coast to Coast Walk. Three weeks wandering through the green fields and hills and mountains of the old country, cozy inns, friendly people, friendly pubs. Yeah, that could be just the ticket...

If I still have the energy, I've got to get cracking on The Dharma Bums by Jack Kerouac, a traveller's classic that I've somehow overlooked all this time. It's "Kerouac living his dream as a Zen lunatic and rucksack wanderer on the fabled golden shore of West Coast America." I like the sound of that!

And if the rain continues, which it likely will, maybe I'll take another stab at Introduction to Philosophy by William James Earle.

It's quite a stack of stuff, but hey, it's a rainy Sunday, so what the heck. I'll make up for it next week hiking and biking in Acadia, I promise...

What did you do to get through the rainy weekend?

I walked the Back Cove Trail Saturday afternoon and for the first time in all my years in Portland I didn't pass a single other person in the entire 3 1/2 mile circuit. Could have been the 42-degree temperatures and cold, wind-driven rain I suppose. Hard to say...

Despite the lack of human company I was entertained by a variety of gulls along the way. The gulls weren't much for conversation so I left them be. Or maybe it was vice versa.

And unfortunately, beyond the ubiquitous herring gull, I couldn't identify a single other one. Time to get the bird book out again and start brushing up.

Along Portland's Back Cove Trail on Saturday.

In case you've forgotten, today in the 35th anniversary of Earth Day! But you probably won't hear much about it in the news. In fact, some even feel that Earth Day and the environmental movement has fallen off the radar screen of most Americans.

Don't despair.

There have been tremendous accomplishments made in cleaning up our environment since Earth Day began in 1970. That's a tribute to the dedication and hard work of thousands, if not millions, of environmentally concious individuals, in many big and small ways. Our air is cleaner, our waters are cleaner, we recycle more. But there remain many significant challenges, and so the job of safe-guarding our environment is never done.

We all desire a clean, safe, healthy environment. How we achieve those ends is often a source of disagreement, but it is clear that over the last 35 years we as a people have in fact come together to solve many very difficult environmental problems, both at home here in the U.S. and abroad.

That spirit of debate and cooperation can and should continue in the best interests of all as we address the problems of the new century such as urban sprawl, diminishing water and energy resources, agricultural contamination, food shortages, overpopulation, global warming and many others. Serious problems that require serious solutions.

That's what today--Earth Day--is all about. We celebrate what has been accomplished. We talk together and identify what needs to be done next. Then we find common ground for moving forward with real solutions. It has worked in the past and will continue to work in the future! I firmly believe in our ability to solve problems together where we must. I have hope for a better future. You should too.

So today, be happy and celebrate the good, green Earth and all that we have.

By the way, if you're looking for someplace to celebrate Earth Day today, there is a fun event in downtown Portland sponsored by the folks at MENSK worth checking out.

What are your plans for celebrating Earth Day?

As of today I can find only four Maine and New Hampshire ski areas still open: Sugarloaf, Sunday River, Wildcat and Bretton Woods. I'm pretty sure all are scheduled to close by this Sunday, April 24th, although Sunday River will re-open for their annual "ski free" day on May 1st.

So get on out there now, 'cause it's going fast. And rain is predicted for the weekend.

I was up at Sunday River on Monday and enjoyed 70-degree temps and fabulous skiing, even managing to poach a few closed trails. That may be it for me, though, unless I can get up to Tuckerman's for a day sometime in May.

What about you? Done with skiing for the season?

The May issue of Backpacker magazine just arrived. So there was no other option but to sit down immediately and read it from cover-to-cover. It's just what you do. With a cold beer of course (duh!).

One of the features this month is called "America's Hardest Dayhikes." Fifty of the "roughest, meanest, gnarliest" hikes in the U.S.

Geez, guys. Madison Avenue has really got hold of you, haven't they.

Well, as it happens, Backpacker has rated the Bigelow Range Traverse here in the great State of Maine as #10 hardest dayhike in the entire country.

That's certainly a nice honor to bestow on us Maine hikers. Thanks. I sure do get a kick out of how much of a big deal they make of it though.

The article talks about Maine's "infamous black flies." Whoa. 100% DEET baby. No problem. And the relentlessly steep and rocky trail. Uh, excuse me, that's just about any trail in Maine's mountains. How the trail "gets ruthless on the fierce 1/2 mile climb up South Horn." Geez, I've run up South Horn in my Tevas for both sunset and sunrise, with a cup of tea in hand, and never thought a thing of it.

I guess here in Maine we're just plain used to steep, rocky, rooty, wet, muddy, exposed, downright awful climbs. That's just what we do. That's hiking in Maine and we love it.

Guess that makes us some kinda rough, mean and gnarly hiking hombries, now don't it? Yep, don't mess with us boys, or they'll be a-trouble!

What's your take on the hardest dayhike in Maine? Is it Bigelow, or some place else.

I'd vote for the Keep Ridge up Pamola, across Knife Edge to the summit of Katahdin, over Hamlin Peak, out across the Northwest Plateau, down to Russell Pond and back out to Roaring Brook. I did that a few years back and damn near died. But it was a heckuva a lot of fun!

Just a reminder for all you on and off road biking fanatics...

Melissa Kim, biking guru and author of the new guidebook New England Biking: 100 of the Best Road and Trail Rides will be speaking and signing books tonight at 7PM at Nonesuch Books and Cards at Mill Creek Shopping Center in South Portland.

It was quite a project, doing the rides themselves and writing the book, and I know she'll have lots of good stories to tell.

See you there...

What a beautiful, long weekend, wasn't it?!

I figure that any weekend where the downhill skis and the mountain bike and the golf clubs and the hiking boots and pack are in or on top of the car at the same time--and you get to use all of them--now that's a damn good weekend.

What did you do on this awesome weekend?

It's road biking season and riders are getting the fever for sure. There's certainly no shortage of places to ride or people to ride with. And a big calendar of biking events to keep you going for the season.

Of course, my road bike is still hanging in the basement, patiently awaiting some TLC from me and my friendly bike mechanic, so I've got to get on the stick soon. But don't wait for me. Get on out there!

Up for a monster challenge? Get in on the Casco Bay Bicycle Club's training series for a "century" ride (that's a 100 miles in a single-day ride). Century training rides start on May 28th.

Well, I never did make it up to Bangor in time to watch the Kenduskeag Stream Canoe Race on Saturday.

Things happen.

But I did manage to get up there in time to get out on the trails of the Bangor City Forest to do some terrific mountain biking.

The forest has about 5 miles of gravel roads and 9 miles of foot/biking trails that wind through beautiful woods of pine. We rode everything we could in the time we had and enjoyed it all immensely. And when the single track dries out in a few weeks there's going to be plenty more terrain to explore. Can't wait for that! I'll definitely be back.

As it turns out, Bangor has quite an extensive system of hiking and biking trails, much of which I haven't been on since I was a kid growing up there.

Essex Woods, in particular, apparently has some killer single-track which absolutely must be ridden by this rider sometime soon.

So pack up your hiking boots and load up your mountain bike some weekend soon and join me for some more Bangor trail exploring...

Pete mugs it up at the start of our Bangor City Forest ride.

Ellen checks the trail map...

Beautiful spring riding on sweet trails...

It was great to be out!

A side note: We cut short our mountain bike ride a little bit so we could make it to the Aztec Two-Step & John Pousette-Dart concert in Brewer which was awesome!

Just a head's up to all you enthusiastic Portland Trails supporters...

Next Friday evening, April 29th, Portland Trails will be holding its annual Happy Trails fundraising bash.

The evening will feature a slient auction, a wild wilderness raffle drawing, dancing to the music of the Jerks of Grass, food and a cash bar.

Portland Trails members and non-members alike are invited.

So come on along, enjoy a fun evening and support a very good cause.

More new trails. You know how excited that gets me.

What would you think about as much as 15 miles of new hiking trails through fields and woods along the coastline of the Back River on Westport Island?

You'd like that, wouldn't you? So would I.

And through a deal between the Chewonki Foundation and Maine Yankee, it looks like its going to happen.

In fact, construction is set to begin this summer on an initial five-mile stretch.

"It would be the coolest trail in the state of Maine," says Don Hudson, President of the Chewonki Foundation in Wiscasset.

Sounds great to me, Don.

Maybe you'll need a few helping hands to get all that trail work done? You just let us know.

Yeah, it's mud season allright (known as "spring" in other parts of the country). That awkward in-between period: No longer winter, still a ways from summer.

You want to get out, but you say you're feeling a tad out of shape.

You've skied a few times, but have to admit that you've tilted back a few more Guinness' than you've actually made ski runs. And your longest hike has been from the car to the office, and at that, you've sneaked up the elevator more often than not.

Ok, what to do with you?

Now, don't go telling me you've got nothing to do after work, no place to go on your lunch hour, no place close by on the weekends to go get some exercise. Nope. Sorry. I won't hear of it.

You need to get out and get moving! And the easiest, least costly and most enjoyable way to do that, of course, is to WALK!

According to Healthy Maine Walks, there just happens to be at least 227 places to walk around Maine. I know because I just counted them. And they total up to an incredible 594 miles. That's a lot of opportunity for walking, much of it close by.

So get on out there, walk and be happy...

Note: The folks in Saco will soon be adding another mile or so to Maine's system of walking trails. I like that. Kudos to John Andrews and the tireless trail advocates down that way for their efforts.

It has taken many hours of serious investigative work, but I have finally closed in on the trail of the pesky Beer Troll who has dogged the Trail Head blog with snarky comments over the past weeks and months.

Your cover is blown Beer Troll! You can't hide anymore!

Please note: I actually do know who "Beer Troll" really is and, strangely enough, enjoy the almost-daily harassment! :-)

Spring hiking season is finally, finally here! Time to get out and exercise those winter-weary legs and lungs.

Lingering snow and our beloved Maine mud will likely limit access to some trails, but there are still plenty of hills and lower mountains to tackle this time of year. And there's always the beaches.

So grab your Maine Atlas and Gazetteer and Maine Mountain Guide, pick a hike and go...

I'm sure there's still a few winter cobwebs left in your brain, but please do try to be responsible and be prepared for your hike. Follow the Hiker Responsibility Code, and make sure you carry the Ten Essentials too. It may be just a short spring day hike, but stuff happens.

Have fun!

You remember Garrett and Alexandra Conover's four-week, 200-mile snowshoe and toboggan trek from Moosehead to Allagash this winter, don't you? They are truly amazing people and this was an incredible trip.

So you may just want to cancel whatever plans you had for this evening and come hear their presentation on their "Winter Walk for the Wilds 2005". The Maine Historical Society is hosting the Conover program which begins at 7PM. It's free and open to the public and will be oh so worth it.

I'll save you a seat...

The sun is just up and the coffee is brewing. And I'm sitting at the table doing what I do mornings now--write. I know, I know, who are you and what have you done with...?

My kitchen presents an interesting picture from the vantage point of my chair. Several pairs of skis lean in the corner by the door. Boots and poles too. A duffle bag of gear from last weekend's ski trip has been rummaged through and half its contents are out on the floor. A milk crate of biking gear waits to get muddy. A pile of mountaineering books and guidebooks lay about the counter. Plane tickets, gear lists and travel notes are scattered about.

A snapshot of an adventurer's life.

The fridge, a visual nightmare, is covered with precious bits and pieces of postcards, memorabilia, and magnets from people and places from all over. One magnet in particular draws me in this morning. It was given to me by a special friend several years ago. We used to chuckle about it. But today, I'm not so sure.

"You are only young once, but you can stay immature indefinitely."
--Ogden Nash

It is the nature of all adventurers to continually seek out the next mountain, the next trail, the next river. To always look a step ahead. Restless, unsatisfied, waiting. For something. Something yet undefined.

But life changes. Sometimes slowly, inexorably. Sometimes suddenly and dramatically. And those changes stop the wild adventurer in place. Realization seeps in. Perspective surfaces. Priorities change.

The mountains and rivers will always be there. And I hope to always have to the drive and the health to pursue them doggedly and enjoy them.

But it's the things closer in that matter as well, if not more. The daily things. The people close to you, the relationships. The little things. The little things that matter big. Everything that fills the five days and nights from Monday through Friday between the adventurous weekends. That's what's truly important. Sometimes it takes a whack in the head to see it and figure it out.

Be present. Appreciate everything. Treasure those around you. Live today with abandon.

Every day is a surprise, isn't it? Today is no different.

Say what you will about Wal-Mart, the company that everybody loves to hate (except when they flock there by the thousands to buy cheap Chinese-manufactured goods).

Wal-Mart has just announced a $35 million campaign called Acres for America "to help conserve an acre of wildlife habitat for every acre it has developed, and will develop, over the next decade. Maine will receive the lion's share of the initial effort - $6 million of the $8 million."

Hey folks, that ain't no chump change.

Apparently the first order of business in Maine will be "to conserve 312,000 acres of forestland in northern Washington County through an easement."

This is huge. And apparently it's only the beginning.

So the mega-retailer that has helped contribute demonstrably to urban and suburban sprawl is now looking to make a genuine difference in land conservation, and Maine will likely benefit considerably.

How 'bout that?

Kudos to Wal-Mart. It looks good on paper. But let's keep an eye on the dancing Happy Face on this one and see that they follow through.

It's the 39th Annual Kenduskeag Stream Canoe Race this Saturday!

There will no doubt be a few mishaps. There always are. Especially at Six Mile Falls. Whether you go just to watch, or whether you're on the river in the middle of it, there will be carnage.

It's fun to cheer the paddlers on, and hundreds do from various points along the river, especially from the bridge on Route 15 in Bangor. It's not so much fun if you're trying to maneuver your boat through the inevitable bottleneck above the big drop.

Overturned canoes, sunk canoes, kayaks with no one aboard, swimmers here, swimmers there, paddles, coolers, and debris of all kinds ends up in the pool below the falls.

But fortunately there are plenty of crack rescue folks standing by to pull the unfortunate paddlers to safety.

Make a day of it. You've just got to be there to see all the action.

Feeling up to the challenge? Get general info, a race map, race rules and guidelines, and an Official Entry Form and go for it!

It was, of course, the 17th annual Reggae Fest at Sugarloaf this past weekend. It was good. It's always good. The skiing was outstanding, the music awesome, the crowds were big and happy, and the beer was, well, you know, beer.

Saturday afternoon on The Beach.

View of the mountain from The Beach.

Crowds enjoying the music on The Beach.

Earning my beads...

Happy Reggae revelers...

"I just love Reggae Weekend!"

Reggae love...

Until next April...

I have to be in Boston on business today, but I don't mind. I love the occasional day amid the urban walls of Beantown (hey, even a Yankee fan like me can enjoy it sometimes). The noise, the cars, the people, the smells, the T--it's all quite a contrast to the comparatively sedate, but lovable city of Portland.

When my conference is over in the afternoon, I plan to visit my favorite hangouts, starting with Hilton's Tent City, where I thoroughly enjoy poking about the five dusty floors of outdoor gear arranged willy-nilly. It's kind of like the Filene's Basement of outdoor retailing and I can always find something I need.

All that rummaging will no doubt elevate my thirst level, so I'll have to stop in a the Black Rose for a pint. For proper hydration of course.

Refreshed, it'll be on to the Globe Corner Bookstore to delve into their huge collection of travel books, adventure books and maps. A very dangerous place for the travel hungry (and for the credit card).

For sustenance, a couple of slices of good thin crust pizza at Pizzeria Regina should do on my way over to catch an IMAX show at the Boston Museum of Science Mugar Omni Theater.

I plan to see Mystery of the Nile, the daring adventure of the first descent of the Nile River (via raft and kayak) from its source to the Mediterranean Sea, 3,000 miles and 114 days later. Should be a wet and wild ride!

By then I trust this armchair adventurer will have earned a good nap on the bus home...

I'm sure by now that you've had just about enough of all the 'pay to play' proposals to tax kayakers and canoeists, hikers who wear their hats backwards, bicyclists with seat rash, and God-only-knows what else...

It won't happen this year. But with the creeping incrementalism of government, the topic of outdoor user fees will be back, and we may, ultimately, end up succumbing to them.

We've all got to pay our fair share somehow. Some will argue that we already pay too much, others will say not enough. And there's a fair contigent in the middle--like myself, wary though I am-- who says that a little more here and there might be okay.

We'll see how it plays out.

I must ask though, what in the heck does Daryl DeJoy of the Wildlife Alliance of Maine mean when, regarding the outdoor users tax, he says, "This is not so much a tax as a user fee. I see nothing wrong with user fees."

Hmmm. Now, I'm curious Daryl, if we called the amount we pay in on our IRS Form 1040 a "user fee", would that make everything better?

Ok, back to my happy place. Hiking and paddling and biking season is upon us and my focus is on FUN. Let's go there and leave the serious stuff for later.

Who among us isn't a big fan of the Appalachian Trail? And who among us doesn't spend a heckuva lot of time out there hiking on the A.T.?

Last Saturday I was at the annual meeting of the Maine Appalachian Trail Club (MATC), the managing agency for the A.T. in Maine, and came away with a few important thoughts:

The MATC is an incredibly dedicated group of people who simply love the Appalachian Trail and strongly believe in preserving it. It shows. They are an amazing group of people to be around.

But there are never enough dedicated volunteers. The A.T. needs you. In some small, medium, or big-sized way.

Here's what you can do:

* Join the MATC. Your dues go to support all that the MATC does (and that's a lot).

* Sign on to a trail maintenance trip or two this summer. Many hands make light work, and you don't need any experience. The trail maintainers will be happy to have you there.

* If you've got some trail maintenance experience, apply to adopt a section of the A.T. and take on the annual maintenance tasks. It's hugely rewarding and satisfying.

* Become a corridor monitor and keep tabs on the A.T. corridor boundaries.

* Or volunteer for one of the myriad of adminstrative tasks that need doing.

Bottom line: It takes a lot to manage the A.T. in Maine. Consider a contribution of your time and energy. It'lll come back to you in spades. The trail and all those who care for it will thank you.

"We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give"
--Winston Churchill

When you've thru-hiked the entire Appalachian Trail like Alan Shorb did last year, why rest? You might as well just keep moving and tackle some new adventure. Right?

And that's just what Alan is doing.

Alan set off from his New Hampshire home this past March 29th intent on riding his bicycle across the entire United States, visiting every state capital and staying overnight with at least one resident.

Yesterday he rode 61.3 miles up the Maine coast from York Beach to my good friends Sandie and Craig's home in Windham, where he spent the night. Sandie and "Ponderer" (his A.T. trail name) swapped trail stories (now that's a surprise!), while Craig, a crack bike mechanic, tuned Alan's bike.

Today, Alan is off to Augusta and will likely visit the good folks at the Bicycle Coalition of Maine while in the capital area. And then from there, well, I guess we'll just have to follow along and see...

Good luck with your grand pedaling adventure Alan!

I was just fine until a few minutes ago, when I unexpectedly met up with my friend John at lunchtime. He's going up to Tuckerman's Ravine tomorrow "just to check it out." Yeah, right.

Damn. The summit cone, the bowl, the gullies, the chutes-- all are in prime ski condition right now. Even the Sherburne Ski Trail has snow all the way down to Pinkham Notch.

I want to go. Now.

I need a clone. One of me to go to Reggae Fest, the other one to go ski Tucks this weekend.

In fact, yes, I really DO need a clone. One Carey to go to work, the other Carey to go and play outdoors.

Now, let's see. If I scrape some skin off my left elbow here and put in a moistened petri dish and leave it in indirect sunlight for awhile, maybe, just maybe...

Scarey, isn't it?

As you've no doubt noticed, it's been a week of reflecting on all things A.T. related.

Last evening, sitting in the cold at Hadlock Field watching tha Sea Dogs, I was having a few laughs with my good buddy Dana, also a veteran A.T. thru-hiker. Our conversations never fail to veer off onto the A.T. at one point or another. And I was reminded about "the jar of jelly."

Now, there's really nothing special about a jar of jelly.

Except, of course, if you are living off daily PB&J sandwiches. And if you purchase this jar of jelly in Duncannon, Pennsylvania in the middle of your A.T. thru-hike from Georgia to Maine.

A one pound jar of grape jelly. A heavy glass jar.

Normally, I would buy my trail provisions and then set outside the store, repack everything, then throw out the containers and other trash. And then head back to the trail.

Not this time. I must have been in a hurry to catch a lift back to the trail or something, so I tossed the one pound jar of jelly into my cavernous orange pack and off I went.

And that's the last I saw of the jar of jelly until I finished the trail in Maine, more than three months and 1,000 miles later.

It's hard to believe that in all that time I never dug down deep enough in my pack to find it, but then, I was a walking bag-lady, and regular housecleaning or any or other chore that smacked of effort just never happened. I got up each day and walked, carefree and unencumbered (except by the jar of jelly secretly weighing me down in the bowels of my pack). But I was a lot younger then and could carry a heavy pack like there's nobody's business.

Further up the trail, I arrived on the campus of Dartmouth College in NH during freshman orientation. That's when one of my trail friends decided to grab a bunch of lead ingots (used by mean upperclassmen to load down the packs of unsuspecting freshman when they took them out in the woods for the traditional orientation hikes) and loaded them in my pack. Oblivious, I carried about five pounds of lead ingots for almost a week before my friends, wracked with guilt, but laughing, decided to tell me.

Ha ha. But they couldn't have known about the jelly.

Imagine my surprise when I arrived home in October, long hair and beard, gear in tatters, and emptied my pack out on the living room floor. And out tumbled the glass jar of jelly. Unopened.

Still sporting a ravenous thru-hiker appetite, there was only one thing to do.

I made three PBJs and ate them all right then and there.

And you skiers, well, you know what that means...

REGGAE-FEST at Sugarloaf!

Spring skiing, sunshine, music, friends, a little fun, maybe a beer, you know the drill.

But before I go and launch headlong into the all the fun, I'm going to act a bit more serious (I know, I know) and stop in at the Maine Appalachian Trail Club (MATC) annual meeting in Farmington Saturday morning on the drive up.

If you are in any way interested in the Appalachian Trail in Maine, then this is a good place to be. You don't need to be an MATC member to attend.

It's an all day affair from 8AM to 4PM and features a schedule chock full of club business, discussion forums and trail workshops. Lunch too. And it's a great way to meet a host of like-minded A.T. lovers.

I suspect the meeting's going to leave me mighty parched though. Hope the beer tent is still open when I get to the mountain...

Plum Creek Timber's proposed development plan on 426,000 acres in and around Moosehead Lake has an awful lot of parts to it, and is hard to grasp all at once. Never mind the fact that the document itself is a whopping 570 pages long and will require many long hours of bathroom reading to fully digest. Not that I'm going to try you understand.

Instead, I'll just offer up my annotated Cliff Notes version:

* 89% percent of the acreage will be designated as working forestland, meaning traditional wood harvesting operations will continue. This is good. It's been a working forest for generations. We need the wood products and we need the jobs.

* 80 acres will be set aside for sporting camps. I figure this is for development of new camps. Why not? This looks to be in line with the Governor's recent eco-tourism plan.

* 600 acres will be set aside for commercial campgrounds. Ditto above.

* A tourist center on 500 acres will be developed at Brassua Lake. A central location for visitors of all stripes to stop and get information on the area. Sounds good to me.

* A "high-end" resort will be built on 3,000 acres at Lily Bay. OK. If tastefully done this could work out allright. Again, it fits with the eco-tourism thing. Eco-tourists tend to have money, so why not do something to attract them and have them spend their cabbage here too.

* Almost 11,000 acres of precious shorefront land will be permanently set aside under conservation easement. Very, very good!

* 71 miles of snowmobile trails and 55 miles of hiking trails will be either preserved or developed. I can't really tell which at this point. But you know me, I just love trails of all kinds. I like this one.

* 575 shorefront homes and 400 back lot homes will be developed. Face it. The people are coming. A well-planned development could make order out of chaos and provide some measure of control.

Whew! That's a lot of stuff going on. It certainly makes for plenty to talk about. Overall it looks like a pretty well balanced plan of development, conservation, recreation and traditional land uses. And it's one that I could support. But there's no doubt, the debate will rage on this one for awhile before it all gets sorted out and a final plan approved.

What do you think?

This has nothing to do with the outdoors, but everything to do with life. So please bear with me this one time. Thanks.

You may recall my March 2 blog entry where I wrote a short tribute about two local Maine men who were killed in the Iraq War just about a year ago: Larry Roukey and Chris Gelineau.

If you've been following the news this past week, you now know that Gelineau's wife Lavinia was murdered last weekend.

It's a tragedy compounded.

Lavinia worked for me several years ago as a USM intern. She was a delightful person, full of life, and we all loved her here in the office.

I am still haunted by the chance meeting with Lavinia in Hannaford's that fateful day late last April. She was white as a sheet and visibly shaken. She told me how she always received a long daily email from her husband Chris in Iraq, and that he was now more than 24 hours overdue. She was worried sick. I tried to comfort her and said something stupid like, "I'm sure everything will be fine."

But it wasn't.

She learned of her husband's death just an hour later.

And now Lavinia, young and full of life at 25, is gone.

My heart goes out to the Onitiu and Gelineau families and all those close to them.

Something's just not right here. There's too much loss going on. Too much.

Live! Appreciate every day and all those important to you. Tomorrow is not a given.

It looks like a proposed bill to require whitewater rafters to wear helmets is unlikely to go anywhere.

Thank goodness.

Now, I'm sure the bill's sponsor, Rep. Ken Fletcher of Winslow, is a nice enough guy, but geez, must the folks in Augusta continually try to protect us from ourselves?

The Kennebec and Dead Rivers are deep rivers at rafting levels. There are no exposed rocks, so you don't need helmet. Wear one if you want (and many people choose to, key word: choice), but you really don't need one.

The Penobscot River is a whole different animal. Plenty of big rocks and ample opportunity to smack your head. That's why rafting companies already require everyone to wear a brain-bucket out there.

Is this starting to make sense now?

I thought so.

Besides, (and this is what I just love about this type of do-good legislation), do we really need to require rafters to wear helmets, when we don't require the same of motorcyclists on our roads.

Hey, now there's a situation that requires a helmet, don't you think?!

Now, I fall down a lot just going down the hallway to the men's room. Do I need a helmet?

My friend Bill from Swanville has quite a sweet tooth, especially for Swiss Rolls. You won't find him too far from a box of them.

Bill is quite the hiker and paddler and all-around outdoors guy. And now he's quite the world traveler, having just spent the last three months trekking through Thailand and Laos. He kept us posted on his whereabouts and his adventures through frequent emails relayed through a friend.

I caught up with him last night at the MOAC meeting in Bangor, and, as you might imagine, he had lots of stories to tell of his travels. But one tale in particular, which actually had little to do with his trip, made me laugh uncontrollably. It was just very Bill...

In January, as Bill was waiting for his early morning ride to the Belfast bus station to catch a bus to Boston and his flight overseas, he scurried around the house making sure he had everything. Needing a bit of nourishment he naturally tore open the cellophane of a Swiss Roll and took a bite. And then set it down on the counter to finish packing.

But his ride appeared and he hurriedly threw his gear in the car and sped off.

And left the half eaten Swiss Roll on the counter. Forgotten. For three months.

Bill returned home a few days ago.

The Swiss Roll was still there, a couple of bites missing, right there on the counter where he left it in January.

Well, settling in after being away for that length of time takes a little doing. He turned on the gas. Got the water heater going. Unpacked his bags. Went outside and tried to start his truck. No luck there.

All this activity made Bill more than a little hungry. But he wasn't going anywhere with a dead truck. And there wasn't much for food in the house except for...

The Swiss Roll.

On the counter.

Right where he left it.

Three months ago...

Bill looked at it. Closely. It still had the same brown and white factory colors. It hadn't bulged out any. No bugs on it. Smelled fine.

So he ate it.

And lived to tell us about it.

Better living through chemistry I guess.

I got so jazzed thinking about the AT the past couple of days that I forgot to pass along a great quote about the trail. I'm sure many of you will recognize it. Enjoy!

Remote for detachment; Narrow for chosen company; Winding for leisure; Lonely for contemplation; The trail beckons not merely north and south, but upward to the body, mind and soul of man.
-- Harold Allen

It's never fails. Every April I get to thinking about the Appalachian Trail. And why not, as spring is the traditional time of year for hikers who are bent on making the long trek from Georgia to Maine to start off from Springer Mountain. Walking north with the seasons through spring, summer and fall one step at a time.

I reflect back on the fond memories of my own thru-hike, and ponder that of others. Who's out there this year? And why? Where are they now? How far will they get?

According to the Appalachian Trail Conference, the trail's managing agency, 412 hikers have already registered atop Springer this year and are bound for Maine. The ATC figures 75% of them won't make it all the way, but I think that figure is low. The unofficial attrition rate is much higher, maybe 90%, as many hikers never even bother to register.

If you read my post yesterday you might think that all it does is rain on the AT, and maybe that's why.

Not quite.

You've also got heat, bugs, bad water or no water, a monotonous food menu, stress fractures, blisters, dysentery, intense loneliness, and the boredom of putting one foot in front of the other for days on end. It's a tough go of it, there's no doubt.

But through it all, over time, if you stick with it, you learn to adapt and adjust to anything that comes your way. And despite the things that are hard you find joy and cheer and reward around every bend in the trail...

Like dipping your cup in the cold spring at the headwaters of the Chattahoochee River along the Georgia Divide. Or watching hawks soar and swoop from the lofty reaches of Rocky Top in the Smokies of North Carolina. Being mesmerized by the roar of the falls at Laurel Fork Gorge in Tennessee.

Quietly watching the wild ponies out on the open expanse of Grayson Highlands in Virginia. Hiking along old fencelines and through overgrown fields of history in the woods of West Virginia. And letting your boots hang over the cliffs at Weverton in Maryland, hundreds of feet above the rushing Potomac River.

Traversing the long rocky ridges of Pennsylvania, passing the halfway mark and feeling strong and free. Taking a refreshing swim in Sunfish Pond in the surprisingly beautiful Kittatinny Mountains of New Jersey. Crossing the mighty Hudson River on the Bear Mountain Bridge in New York, stopping to look southward at the skyscrapers of New York City, just thirty miles, but a world away.

Watching a deer bound across the waters of the Housatonic River in Connecticut. Pausing for lunch beneath the War Memorial monument on the summit of Massachusetts' Mount Greylock, the splendor of the Berkshires before you. To bond, to laugh with with your fellow thru-hikers around a blazing campfire at Stratton Pond in Vermont.

Sitting alone on a rock outcrop on Wildcat Mountain in New Hampshire looking over to the magnificent flanks of Mount Washington. And stepping gently to the shore of Church Pond at dawn in Maine's 100-mile wilderness to watch a big bull moose feeding.

That is the Appalachian Trail. That is why you go. To winnow life down to its most basic, but important elements. To not just look, but see, really see and appreciate what is around you. To discover and share with those closest to you. To understand what you feel deep inside and why. To be alive.

Damn, that's a lot of skiing!

Congrats to Paul Schipper on his incredible streak of skiing 3,903 consecutive days at Sugarloaf over a period of twenty years. It's feat that may even land him a coveted spot in the Guinness Book of World Records.

Wow! No wonder Sugarloaf is naming a section of Narrow Gauge Trail after him, to be called "Schipper's Streak". Perhaps they should consider something a little bigger, like Schipperloaf maybe. Hmmm.

Now, I've successfully gotten out of bed every day for the last 1,247 consecutive days. Is that any kind of record? Hello, Guinness?

Years ago, when I first moved to Maine from away, the state tourism people had a pretty smart visitor (we called them tourists back then) marketing campaign going on.

It seemed that you could stop just about anywhere along the road and pick up a handful of well-designed, very informative brochures that highlighted Maine's wealth of recreational resources. They all had clever titles like "Hike Me.", "Canoe Me.", "Bike Me." and so forth. Being a newbie to Maine, I took handfuls of them and put them to use exploring my new home state (uh, with the help of my Dad and his car, of course). Just the purpose the brochures were meant for. Ding!

But that campaign soon disappeared...

We have so much to offer here in Maine with regard to outdoor recreation, but we just can't seem to make a coordinated effort to promote it properly. So when I heard of the Governor's proposed ecotourism initiative, I was hoping that it might take off in a similar direction.

At first glance it looks like nothing more than a bunch of tax breaks, tax credits and tax incentives, which are, I'm sure, pretty exciting to the hunting and fishing camp owners who will benefit, but they didn't do much for me.

But there's more.

The measure does appear to include developing more interpretive visitor centers, a series of new recreational guides and maps, and "incorporating numerous trailheads, historic sites, and nature centers into highway-based thematic itineraries."

Sounds good. Now if only I knew what a highway-based thematic itinerary was. If it means that people will actually be able to find the outdoor stuff-to-do that's here, then that's a good thing.

Or maybe we could just give everybody coming over the bridge a DeLorme Atlas and Gazetteer and call it good.

Rain. And more rain. But it's April in Maine, and rain is just part of the weather equation for now. You know it won't last. Just be patient.

This time of year makes me think back to those many long rainy days on the Appalachian Trail. On a six month hike from Georgia to Maine you're going to have your share of rain. And on my thru-hike I had plenty. But, as every thru-hiker learns, "you can't get to Maine without hiking in the rain." And so you do.

Sometimes it would rain for days on end. But each day you'd get up, pack the sopping wet gear, and start out again up the trail. And walk all day through the woods and up and down the mountains. Wet socks, wet boots, wet shorts and shirt, wet everything. Get to camp and crawl into the damp, sticky and smelly sleeping bag and try to get some rest. Then do it all over again the next day.
You get used to it, though, and you move on. It's what thru-hikers do.

Near the end of my hike, in New Hampshire and Maine, it rained for 30 out of the last 40 days. Cold, bone-chilling autumn rain. It was impossible to keep anything dry. One night at Carlo Col Shelter in the Mahoosucs on the NH-ME border I put on every layer of clothing I had in my pack, but I still couldn't get warm. I just lay there shivering, my down sleeping bag a useless lump of nylon and clumps of feathers. Through the long night I wondered just how much more of this I could endure. But the next day, I awoke with renewed determination, got up and carried on a few more miles to the next camp. And the next. And the next.

Until finally I set foot on the summit of Mount Katahdin and hugged the sign at the end of the trail on a beautiful, sunny October morning. Suddenly all those rainy days along the way since early May seemed worthwhile.

And they still do. Because I learned through the rain and all the hardships in 2,000 miles of hiking the AT not to give up easily. Ever. It's a lesson I've never forgotten.

There's always going to be some rain on the path to wherever you're going. You've just got to keep your hood up, your head down, keep your feet moving and deal with it. Sunshine will always follow soon enough...

Potholes and puddles in the road. And mud. Lots of it. Sure signs of spring in Maine. And after 2 AM Sunday morning, a little more light to play in each day.

It's time to get the road bike out and tuned up for the season. Probably could be riding right now. I'll bet many of you are already.

The mountain bike too. Although it's going to be awhile before we can ride in the woods. There's still snow in there and even when it's gone it's going to be pretty mucky. Don't want to be tearing up the trails after all.

So road riding will have to do for now. But that's okay. It's at least good to get out and pedal.

If you'd like to find a few new places to ride this year, on road or off, there's a new guidebook to biking that you might be interested in. It's called New England Biking: 100 of the Best Road and Trail Rides by Melissa Kim.

Melissa calls it an "all things to all people" type of guidebook with a wide variety of interesting rides in it. I thumbed through a copy the other day and it looks pretty good. I'll no doubt add it to my collection.

Ok, saddle up and let's ride!