Right smack in the middle of the first big April snowstorm, where was I?

Taking a snowcat trip to the summit of Mount Washington, of course, for an overnight stay at the Observatory and a short course in avalanche and snow safety.

It was a wild trip all-around, and one of the best things I've ever done in the outdoors! Highly recommended!

Anyway, it's not like me to get a column on the outdoors done before a blog entry, but the month has been a busy one, indoors and out, and that's exactly what's happened.

So here's the story on my "educational trip" to the Mount Washington Observatory April 5-6, complete with a photo montage.

Enjoy!

And do put this one on your life-list of things to do. You'll love it!

OK everybody, the new plan is here.

That's right.

Plum Creek has finally completed it revised plan for the Moosehead Lake region and submitted same to LURC.

So, my dear Trail Head friends, here is your assignment: Read the plan, look at the maps, and get back to me with your comments.

I've only just printed off the 494-page plan, and haven't but skimmed it at this point. So I'll reserve detailed comment until I've had a chance to pour through it.

I'm hoping all you concerned folks on both sides of the Plum Creek fence will do the same.

This is big. And requires some careful consideration and frank discussion. .

Plum Creek country: Mount Kineo and Moosehead Lake from the trail on Little Moose Mountain just outside Greenville.
Photo by Carey Kish

Here's a summary, according to the Plum Creek press release dated today:

* 400,000 acres of permanent conservation with public access--the 2nd largest conservation easement in U.S. history

* 90,000 acres of the conservation easement will wrap around development areas to permanently contain sprawl; includes all shore frontage owned by Plum Creek on 60 lakes and ponds and a significant portion of Moosehead Lake

* Binding P&S agreement with The Nature Conservancy, Forest Society of Maine and the Appalachian Mountain Club on 341,000 acres

* Recreational trail easements for Maine's ITS snowmobile system, a "Peak to Peak" long distance hiking trail, and the Maine Huts and Trails Nordic ski and hiking (and hopefull mountain biking) trail system

* Development zones totalling 20,500 acres for residential, non-residential and commercial uses

* 180 shorefront lots eliminated

* Development of 975 lots to be closer to existing communities, and more concentrated

* Resort-based development centered at Big Moose Mountain and Lily Bay

Dat's da brief scoop as I'm reading it folks.

OK now, you have your assignment, now let's get to work.

Read, make notes, take a good look-see at the map. Crack a cold one. Mull it over some.

Then let's talk next week...

A couple of longtime hiking friends of mine from up the road a piece in Bath are out west as we speak attempting to hike the entire Pacific Crest Trail from Mexico to Canada.

As best I can tell from the last entry on Trail Journals, Bruce and Cheryl (and stuffed animal "Nose") Pooler (hence the trail name "Pooler Bears") should have set off from the border at Campo, California just about a week ago.

It should be a hoot to follow along on their adventure. Because if history is any guide--the Poolers' hikes are always a crazy adventure of one sort or another--this should be a good one.

I first met them during a 1995 thru-hike of the Long Trail in Vermont, and we became fast friends. It may have been the cribbage board and deck of cards, hard to say. But it never took much for them to take a rest stop, and break out the board and start dealing the cards. And furiously pegging for points! Maybe that's why their trail name then was the "15-2's". Go figure.

Later on, I had the pleasure of sharing a number of very remote week-long trips down into the bowels of the Grand Canyon, scaling near-vertical canyon walls, tiptoeing across narrow ledges above impossible drop-offs and wading through dark slot canyon pools, pack held high overhead. Oh, those halcyon days on the desert trail in the fine company of the Poolers!

The "Pooler Bears" from Bath, Maine are attempting to hike the entire Pacific Crest Trail from Mexico to Canada this summer.
Photo courtesy Bruce and Cheryl Pooler

And now, possibly, they've gone completely mad...

The PCT is 2,700 miles long and snakes north through California, Oregon and Washington, following the spine of the Sierra Nevada and Cascade Mountain ranges through some of the wildest and lonely country in the lower 48. And undoubtedly some of the most beautiful.

(And it's on the "list" of course!)

Good luck Pooler Bears! We're mighty envious here. And waiting for your tales of (mis)adventure! We'll be checking in...

FYI: There's lots of good reading to be found at Trail Journals, adventures by people hiking trails all over the world. Good stuff to digest and maybe plan a big hike or two yourself. Eh??

It's inevitable.

Seems only to take a warm, sunny day or two in April, blue skies overhead, the smell of moist earth underfoot, long views through the bare tree branches.

Spring fever, yes, but worse.

Springer Fever.

As in the overwhelming desire to return to Georgia and the top of Springer Mountain and begin walking north on the Appalachian Trail. And to keep going for months on end all the way to our own Mount Katahdin.

Have you got a bad case of Springer Fever?

It's real, I tell you.

And when the "fever" hits, it hits hard.

You start making cryptic notes on cocktail napkins over a beer. Calculating. Scheming. Dreaming.

You start looking around you and wondering just how quickly could you pack up your worldly goods and empty your bank account and make for the trail.

For those of you who suffer this annual affliction you know what I mean.

For everyone else, well, find an ex-AT thru-hiker and ask them.

Their eyes will be wide and deep and their gaze far off. Their speech rapid and often garbled; all you can make out is something about mail drops and pack weights and maps, or whatnot. Their empty hands will tremble, longing to grasp a pair of trekking poles to help scratch their way up mountain upon mountain.

Yep, that's an AT thru-hiker in a full-on bout with a nasty case of Springer Fever.

The cure?

None.

Excepting the precious opportunity to make a second thru-hike (something we babble about annually also).

So there you have it. Springer Fever.

Do you have it?

If not, I hope you get it. Store your stuff. Pack your pack. Go south. Walk north. Get off the radar screen of mainstream life for awhile. And onto the the life-changing, life-sustaining AT. It's a choice with a big, big upside and very few downs. Go.

Worried? Scared? Fraught with indecision? Too much 'can't' when there should be 'can'?

Write me. Buy me a beer. I'll sketch the entire trip out for you on a cocktail napkin. That's not to minimize the enormity of such an expedition. It's to minimize the fretting, and to get you out the door. It's the going that matters. If need be you can make it up as you go. But go.

And then, when you're perched atop Springer Mountain, mind and body afire, about to step off on your life's dream hike, and you sign the register and scribble "GA --> ME" after your name, you'll go "Oh yeah!".

Trail Head "a few years ago" about to head northbound on the AT.

The 0.3 mile walk to the top of obscure Chase Hill in Canaan isn't much.

Ten minutes at best. A little more if you stop to poke around the old firewarden's cabin on the way.

But scramble up the fire tower on the 780-foot peak and hold onto your hat for one of the finest and most extensive for views for so little work that I know of anywhere in Maine.

I didn't know it was coming and neither did my hiking partner.

But scanning the horizon I picked out the distinctive summit of Whitecap Mountain up on the Appalachian Trail near Katahdin Iron Works.

Wow.

View to far off Whitecap Mountain on the A.T. from Chase Hill, Canaan.
All photos courtesy Carey Kish

From there we traced the skyline southwest and began to tick off the peaks: Barren-Chairback, Moxie Bald, Pleasant Pond Mtn., Bates Ridge, The Bigelow Range... all the way to the Mahoosucs, where we were pretty certain we could ID Goose Eye.

That meant we were looking at something like 200 miles of the Appalachian Trail, remarked my friend.

Indeed.

Incredible!

So much so that we spent a good long while hanging out up there in awe, just looking.

Too bad it wasn't possible to capture the extraordinary view with a camera. The mind's eye would have to do.

If you're ever up that way cruising the rural roads east of the Kennebec River, check out Chase Hill. Bring a lunch and a cold one. Stay awhile and enjoy.

The two other peaks in our Saturday fun-in-the-spring-sun hiking trifecta included Mount Pisgah in Winthrop and Monument Hill in Leeds.

It's a little less than a mile to Pisgah's summit and another high fire tower, complete with broad views of the snow-capped Presidential Range.

Fire tower atop Mount Pisgah, Winthrop.

Atop Mount Pisgah, looking across Androscoggin Lake to the distant snow-capped Presidential Range.

Not too far away in Leeds is Monument Hill, another easy but rewarding hike. An obelisk dedicated to war veterans adorns the top. And just beyond is an open ledge with a comfy sitting rock and a beautiful mountain vista.

Snow on the trail to Monument Hill, Leeds.

Obelisk on top of Monument Hill.

Sun and blue skies and temps in the 70s... Three wonderful hikes. Two sunburned hikers. One fine day.

All good.

Mount Pisgah, Monument Hill and Chase Hill are all well described in the AMC Maine Mountain Guide. The DeLorme Atlas and Gazetteer is helpful, as always, for navigation.

And your weekend? Good?

You want it? You need it?

New backpack, hiking boots, stove, sleeping bag, fleece...?

Our friends at Eastern Mountain Sports have got it.

And all this weekend everything at EMS is 20% off (except kayaks which are 15% off).

A heckuva good deal for gear fanatics and normal outdoorsy types alike.

I was just over to the EMS store on Marginal Way in Portland to rummage around some and look over the loads o' good looking gear. Mighty fine stuff. (FYI: EMS also has a Maine store in Augusta, too.)

They've got a chiropractor there today until 5PM providing tips of foot care and foot wear. Tomorrow there'll be Leave No Trace clinics from 1-4 PM. Sunday EMS's Josh tells me they trying to line up a sea kayak rescue group to provide some safety demonstrations. Details TBA.

So, the sun is out, the snow is melting, and no doubt the cash for some new gear is just burning in your wallet.

Guess I'll see you at EMS then, eh? And then maybe we'll go right around the corner for a cold one at Bleacher's. Sounds like a plan to me!

It's been a wild April weather-wise, hasn't it? Especially so if you're a downhill skier.

Who would've thought we'd get a couple of big dumps of snow nearly-back-to-back, giving us the best spring skiing conditions in years. Sugarloaf claims nearly 8 feet of snow since April 1st, Wildcat more than 6 feet.

Yee-hah!

But despite the mass quantities of snow and outstanding skiing and riding, sadly the end of the season is near, and only four mountains in Maine and New Hampshire remain open: Sugarloaf, Sunday River, Wildcat and Sunapee.

So, you'd better come and get it! ASAP like.

The Loaf has pushed back its closing date another week and will remain open through Sunday, April 29th. And bonus! The Backside and Snowfields are wide open and ready to thrash you but good.

Sunday River plans to stay open thru April 29th as well, concluding with a FREE ski day.

Wildcat plans a 4/22 closing date (according to their website anyway), so if you want to ski the beast get there this weekend.

Mount Sunapee also plans to shut down this coming Sunday.

If you've already stowed the boards for the year, then, well, what the heck is wrong with you? Ski now!!! You've got all summer to hike and paddle.

Reggae '07 as much fun as ever!

If you were at Sugarloaf last weekend for the umpteenth annual Reggae Festival then you know what I'm talking about. The skiing was tremendous, the music excellent, the crowds a hoot.

All good.

Several beers into apres ski at The Beach, among the swaying throngs jamming with the band, a friend commented to me, big grin on his face, that "every weekend should be Reggae Weekend!"

Brilliant! Of course! That's it! Live as if every day, every weekend was ReggaeFest!

Outdoors. Fun. Friends.

And so it was written...

See you in the sun out there on the slopes, my fine Trail Head friends!

Conciousness was just beginning to overtake me early yesterday morning as I lay there listening to the steady freight train roar of the wind and watching the trees in Baxter Woods out back sway wildly in the gray light.

The storm was blowing through full force.

Then, from the front of the house: Crack! Boom!

The noise woke me completely, and so excited my cat Molly that she made like a flying squirrel and leapt from the hallway over the bed in one bound and was gone into hiding, barely missing my face in flight.

The radio crackled and went dead. And I knew at once that the effects of this storm were going to last a bit longer than most for folks in my neck of the city woods.

Downstairs, looking out the living room window, my fears were confirmed.

Half of the big red maple in front of the house was now out in the street, completely blocking it from curb to curb. And with it came a tangle of telephone and electrical wires from the house. Along with bits of gutter and whatnot.

Uh oh. Red maple down, power out...
All photos by Carey Kish

Hmmm. What to do?

No power. Not today. Not for a long while most likely.

I grabbed my backpack, dug out the cook kit and alcohol stove, set it all on top of the now impotent kitchen stove, and set a pot of water to boiling for morning coffee.

Indoor camping, April-in-Maine-nor'easter storm style!

Cup of strong brew in hand I crawled back upstairs, snapped on my headlamp and relaxed to a morning of book reading and hike planning.

Edward Abbey got some page time. Then the latest National Geographic Adventure and Backpacker mags.

But my new guidebook to the Cohos Trail got most of my time. I read and read and penciled notes in the margins and added up mileage from the charts. I planned food caches and overnight stops and generally daydreamed about the coming joys of a two week, 162-mile thru-hike through the mountain wilds of northern New Hampshire in early August.

My kind of rainy day entertainment.

Somewhere during all this excitement a wonderful nap overtook me. And I woke with a start sometime later with an overwhelming urge to get outside into the maw of the storm.

On went the fleece and raingear, the camera into a plastic bag and it was off to the Fore River Sanctuary for a look around.

Wow!

Jewell Falls was churning in a massive, rushing torrent, just barely making it under the little bridge before crashing down the hillside. A Class 6 death wish kayak run for sure.

What a truly incredible sight.

Jewell Falls flowing full tilt during yesterday's big storm.

I photographed the falls up and down and stood for long minutes in the wind and rain transfixed by the power of the water flowing by at my feet.

Just for reference, this is Jewell Falls early last November.

Back at the car I couldn't help but take a drive around to check out the destruction around town. Huge trees were down everywhere. And at Back Cove four-foot waves were breaking over the bank at the foot of Vannah Avenue.

A belly full of breakfast at Steve and Renee's, some new batteries for the radio and I was back home for the day.

Perhaps I should have skipped the stop for the batteries. And satisfied myself with the quiet. Because as soon as I popped them into my radio I heard the news of the atrocities at Virginia Tech.

My heart sank. And I felt disoriented all over again. Barely a week after the sudden death of a friend in a skiing accident, now more senseless loss of life. My normally thick skin was rubbed raw. What the hell is going on with this world anyway?

It's no damn wonder really, is it, why I and others spend a good deal of time planning escapes from this kind of crap. The news is mostly all bad. We seem to have lost our sensibilities.

And only outdoors it seems, on the trail, on the river, wherever it is that's far away from the radio and TV, can we rest and rejuvenate and find peace and sanity.

With that thought I lit the kerosene lamp, put a can of beans on the campstove and went back to the pages of the Cohos Trail guide and that part of the future which I can affect positively...

Why, of course, it's...

REGGAE WEEKEND!!

So, you'd better get you and your ski goods up to the Loaf for a final blowout on the slopes!

Tomorrow looks like the day to ski with any chance of sunshine. After that, all bets are off. Sunday afternoon into Monday look downright ugly.

Guess that's the plan then.

I'll meet you at the Super Quad at 10. We'll ski for a few hours, have a brew on the deck at Bullwinkle's, ski for awhile longer, then retire to The Beach for some tall, cold, frosty ones, along with a few thousand happy skier-party types for an afternoon of reggae music.

Ya mon.

Life is good...

"He is lucky who, in the full tide of life, has experienced a measure of the active environment that he most desires. In these days of upheaval and violent change, when the basic values of today are the vain and shattered dreams of tomorrow, there is much to be said for a philosophy which aims at living a full life while the opportunity offers. There are few treasures of more lasting worth than the experience of a way of life that is in itself wholly satisfying. Such, after all, are the only possessions of which no fate, no cosmic catastrophie can deprive us: nothing can alter the fact if for one moment in eternity we have really lived." --Eric Shipton

I was in Augusta yesterday morning. A cold, gray, somber day. Just right for a funeral.

I was among some 800 others who came to say goodbye to Abby Holman, an incredibly accomplished woman and friend to many; legislator, attorney, mother, rafting guide, skier, moose hunter, nature lover.

Nobody should leave us at such an early age. But maybe there's a plan in it all somewhere. Seems that many who die young leave a huge mark on the world in a relatively short time. As did Abby.

But then you can't help but wonder, what other great things might they have done with a little more time among us. Like someone with the energy, character and drive as Abby possessed.

It cuts hard both ways. And leaves me both sad and glad. A daily lesson for us all.

Live! Love! Laugh!

Your thoughts?

You can remember Abby Holman by making a donation (in lieu of flowers) in her name to: Kennebec Valley Land Trust, PO Box 261, Winthrop, ME 04364.

Books. I just can't get enough of them. So much so that I wish we could get this cloning thing down.

Just imagine: One of me to go to work, another me to play outside, yet another just to hang out in a comfy chair and read books. OK, and maybe one more me to sample the brews of the world.

Occasionally I'd have a staff meeting with all my cloned me's to review and coordinate this multi-faceted life thanks to the wonders of DNA research.

Oh, but I digress...

I was up in Bangor recently visitng with my friends at Epic Sports, owner Brad Ryder and crew. If you're in that neck of the woods, do stop into the downtown store. They've got a great operation going and tons of outdoor gear and even more local hiking and paddling knowledge.

Anyway, you know I couldn't leave the place without buying something. So, as if driven by some unseen force, I found myself in the book section. And was immediately drawn to a book on the Appalachian Trail (duh!). So I bought it, of course.

Dreaming the Appalachian Trail is written by Brad Viles, an avid hiker and Maine outdoors writer for many years.

It's a good read, albeit a quick one (it's but 72 pages long), and I recommend it for anyone with an insatiable thirst for all things Appalachian Trail.

Viles has written the book as a "backpacking" novel, although I'm not sure just why. The book might have read better as a straight-forward journal of the adventure. But I applaud Viles for trying.

The main character, Viles really, is named Ivy B. Mann. Ivy is tired of waiting for the spring that never seems to come to Maine, and so heads south to Georgia and the Appalachian Trail in search of it.

Mann finds spring alright as he walks northward on the trail, and gives himself a name change: "Maine-tainer." He also encounters, or tries to anyway, a number of odd characters as well.

The search for the elusive Clay Dep (pronounced Deep), apparently the keeper of spring, is an odd chapter. Mann nevers does find him.

Then there's Topo Man who, rather than carry the AT guidebook and maps in his pack, has them tattooed over his body. And must go through some wild contortions to read portions of the maps in out-of-the-way areas on his flesh.

Despite the occasional strange characters and bizarre happenings, Vile's--Maine-tainer's--love for the trail and the experience shines through. And by the end he has not only found spring, but a whole new appreciation for the gift of life and living.

Give it a good read. I bet you'll enjoy it, too.

And speaking of reading, I've got a whole stack of books waiting patiently for some page-turning time. The occasional night at home just isn't enough. Gotta have some more extended trail time I guess.

I really do think that cloning idea is the way to go...

What's on your outdoor adventure reading list???

By now most of you know the tragic news of Abby Holman who died Saturday in a freak skiing accident at Sugarloaf.

All of us who knew her are shocked and saddened by her untimely loss.

Our thoughts and prayers are with you Abby, your family and friends.

Please take a moment to read Abby Holman's obituary and know what a wonderful person she was.

There is nothing more I can add at this very sad time.

Goodbye Abby. Much, much too soon.

The calendar says spring for sure (never mind what's going on outside your window today!). So why am I packing up layers of fleece, a down parka, mittens, long johns, ice axe and crampons and the like?

Because I'm headed for a place where winter and bad weather is a year-round occurence: The summit of Mount Washington!

The Mount Washington Observatory and summit sign.
Photo courtesy Mount Washington Observatory

Early tommorrow morning I've got to get me and my packload of gear up to Pinkham Notch, NH and the base of the Mount Washington Auto Road to meet my limo, er, snowcat, for what I expect will be a wild ride to the peak of the East.

What's all this about, you say?

Well, being a Mount Washington Observatory member, I signed on for one of their Winter EduTrips, a two day, one night excursion to the summit combined with an outdoor educational experience.

This particular trip will focus on avalanches and snow safety, good stuff to know if you're interested, as I am, in spending quality time in the mountains in winter, here in New England or elsewhere. The course will be led by instructors from the Eastern Mountain Sports climbing school, knowledgeable folks indeed.

A tour of the Observatory and the summit are included in the activities, so some hobnobbing with the scientists and researchers will be cool. And the plan for some hearty meals with the summit crew and other participants will be good fun, as will being tucked away in a warm bunk for the night, listening to the wind and weather howl outdoors.

All good. Can't wait.

Current conditions on top of Mount Washington: Wintery!

Oh yeah.

Mount Washington Observatory here I come, ready or not. Another one of those "once in a lifetime" opportunities that I just ain't letting go by. Life is short, sleep when you die.

You can count on a recap when I get back down. Gotta be stories coming out of this deal!

You been to the top of Mount Washington? By foot? By car? By snowcat??? Have you ever spent the night up there?

Winter sunset at the Mount Washington Observatory.
Photo courtesy Mount Washington Observatory

A bombardier, or snowcat, clears a path through deep snow on the Mt. Washington Auto Road.
Photo courtesy Mount Washington Observatory

Inga, one of the summit cats, coated in rime ice after a trip outside.
Photo courtesy Mount Washington Observatory

Given the dreary weather this week it's a great time to be an armchair adventurer and take in two "indoor" events that'll get you stoked for the outdoors.

Wednesday evening April 4th join yours truly for the monthly meeting of MOAC - the Maine Outdoor Adventure Club in Portland. I'll be presenting the slide program: "Trekking the GR20 Route across Corsica," a hike I did with another local friend last summer.

The Haute Corse was a difficult walk over some impossibly steep terrain. But the beauty of this rugged island, the magnificent mountain scenery, the lovely Corsican people, and the sheer delight of two weeks of simple trail living a long way from home made the struggle more than worthwhile.

Thursday evening April 5th, join Yarmouth-ite Tom Armstrong for a photographic journey to Mount Everest as he recounts the 1990 Mount Everest Peace Climb, an expedition largely sponsored by L.L. Bean.

The Everest program will be held at the Town Hall Community Room in Yarmouth. Call 846-6242 for more info.

Both programs begin at 7 PM on their respective nights, and are free and open to the public.

Scaling the walls of the fabled Cirque de la Solitude, GR20 Route, Haute Corse.
Photo courtesy Carey Kish