All these years in Maine and I'd never camped at Mount Blue State Park or climbed Mount Blue. That just had to change. And it did this past weekend.

The park is a gem--with friendly staff, secluded campsites, hot showers (big bonus!), a long stretch of sandy beach, a huge grassy field to lounge about and play on, a crystal clear lake for swimming and paddling, a gorgeous panorama of mountain views, plenty of roads and trails for hiking and biking, blah blah blah...

If you haven't yet visited here, you've gotta go. Don't wait like I did!

Mount Blue State Park has nearly everything you could want in the outdoor recreation department! Photo by Carey Kish

I met up my good buddy Pete and his young daughter early Saturday afternoon and we quickly settled into a homey, wooded campsite.

Then we were off on our mountain bikes exploring the paved and dirt roads and trails that weave through the park. The lakeshore was beautiful, but with the blustery winds and whitecaps, few swimmers were out. And it didn't look good for paddling. But the views across the water were fabulous.

The shapely cone of Mount Blue rises above Lake Webb.
Photo by Carey Kish

The park's roads and trails are great for biking.
Photo by Carey Kish

A happy camper at Site #44.
Photo by Carey Kish

Back at camp we relaxed a bit, threw back a cold one, and prepped for an early dinner. And that was when I locked my keys in the van...

&%#$@X*+!!!!!!

Mildly upset with the stupidity at doing such a thing many miles from nowhere I began to look for a good sized rock that would help me regain entry into the vehicle. But alas, common sense took hold, and we trundled over to the ranger station and got a call through to AAA.

An hour and a half and several beers later, voila! The AAA guy roars into the campground, "Masters of Disaster" painted on the side of his tow truck. In a flash he had the jimmy down the window and pop, the door was open. And then he was gone. All in about a minute.

Life now back to normal we cooked up hot dogs over the campfire and had fresh veggies for dinnah. Yumster!

We hiked off the dinner calories on the Swett Brook Trail, a winding forest path that loops around the campground for several delightful miles.

After a quick run down to Lake Webb for sunset we plunked ourselves down for good in front of a roaring blaze. A fine, fine day!

The Swett Brook Trail is a fun two-mile jaunt that circles around the campground.
Photo by Carey Kish

Evening sky over Lake Webb with Mount Blue in the distance.
Photo by Carey Kish

Cozying up to the evening campfire.
Photo by Carey Kish

On Sunday the three of us rode bikes down to the Nature Center for a look-see around. It's worth a visit with lots of good info and interesting displays on the natural history of the park.

Pete and daughter headed off on bikes from there, while I drove over to the other side of the park intent on hiking Mount Blue.

The view from the picnic area at Center Hill was worth the entire trip! Go and see for yourself. By expending no more effort than getting out of your car you can see for miles... to Byron Notch, the steep cliffs of Tumbledown, the humps of Little and Big Jackson Mountains and much more. Wow!

The spectacular view from the Center Hill picnic area. That's Byron Notch, Tumbledown and the Jacksons in the distance.
Photo by Carey Kish

Indian paintbrushes provide a splash of summer color.
Photo by Carey Kish

The half-mile nature loop trail leads right from the parking lots and takes you through deep forest, past bogs and out to numerous viewpoints. Grab a brochure before you head off and follow along with the numbered exhibits and gain a thorough understanding of the natural and human history of the area. Tremendous!

Hikers enjoy the view from the Center Hill Nature Trail.
Photo by Carey Kish

A few miles farther along, at road's end, is the trailhead for Mount Blue.

The trail is straightforward going at a pretty steady grade, with precious few easy sections to catch your breath. But it's a fairly quick 1.6 miles and a little over an hour to the top of the peak.

John Therrian of Jay enjoys the vista from the summit of Mount Blue.
Photo by Carey Kish

A small open field with wildflowers adorns the 3,109 foot summit as does the metal framework of the old fire tower. There are five vista points, four on top and one just below. Check 'em all out--the views are wonderful: The entire range of Saddleback, Abraham, Spaulding and Sugarloaf; The Presidentials, the Carters, the Mahoosucs; closer in are Bald Mountain and Saddleback Wind.

All good. The whole damn trip to Mount Blue: So, so good. My kinda weekend.

You been to Mount Blue State Park?

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!

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

The Kennebunk Citizens for Responsible Growth are mad as hell.

The KCRGs, no doubt a spirited group of local citizens, appear bent on preserving the pristine wilderness character of West Kennebunk. Or something like that.

By gory, you go for it.

Nothing like a fired-up bunch of do-good folks looking to keep them nasty dee-velopers outta town. Dammit.

Even if that dee-veloper wants to put in a (gulp!) campground.

Uh huh. No way, Jose.

Yessuh. Go on now. You git.

Take yer damn campground, and, and, you build it somewheres else.

Like up at Moosehead Lake, Greenville-way, where campgrounds belong.

Except, well, uh, campgrounds ain't wanted up there either (Plum Creek anyone?). At least by some noisy folks who are likely from away. Like maybe from southern Maine. Maybe even West Kennebunk.

That's right.

Could it be that they are one in the same?

Not likely, but you get the idea.

NIMBYs are NIMBYs. And they're all around us.

And what they're about--they would never, ever admit this, of course--is anti-development.

Yes, kindly, that would be not-exactly-pro-development.

Doesn't seem to matter where it is. Or what.

Jeez, when a campground causes a NIMBY flare-up you know it's gotten bad.

A campground!

Spaces for 110 RVs. RVs that will likely shelter a sweet retired couple or two, a bunch of families, nice folks if you will.

Throw in a few campground amenities for the aformentioned nice travelin' folk. And 45-odd acres of woods as a nature preserve.

Oh, and a handful of affordable houses on the site.

I tells ya, that's enough to get my hiking boot laces in a knot, it is.

The nerve.

Why those West Kennebunk NIMBY types ought to march right to the town fathers and demand that the town O-fficially seize the developers private property and prevent forever such desecration in the form of an abominable campground.

In fact, maybe private property down that way should be banned altogether. Yeah, that'll show them developer-types.

Uh, except, well, uh, wait a minute.

The KCRGs are private property owners, too!

Uh, oh... (look of surprise here)

Yep. It's going to be fun watching this latest bout with NIMBYism play out.

Meantime, I'm going to ready my camping gear. And look into renting an RV. Something that I can park for a nice long weekend at a comfy campground sometime in the near future.

A nice, wooded, peaceful campground. Maybe like one in West Kennebunk...

Try a weekend at a yurt in the 11,000 acre backcountry of The Birches Resort at Moosehead Lake.

I spent last weekend up there camped out in the sub-zero cold, but was plenty warm and cozy in my simple yurt.

The Overlook Yurt, my home-away-from-home last weekend, The Birches, Moosehead Lake.
Photo by Carey Kish

I packed in a sled full of goods on Friday night and enjoyed a most excellent solo evening--just me and the cranking woodstove, a delicious meal of beans and hot dogs, an awesome book (I Heard the Owl Call My Name by Margaret Craven) and one sweet rocking chair.

Saturday I strapped on the x-c skis and cruised a nice long loop of the extensive trail network while waiting for my pals Stryder and EW to arrive.

Ostensibly, they pulled in precisely at happy hour! And together we enjoyed a fun evening of socializing and chowing down at the main lodge, which we reached via snowshoes.

Then we closed out the weekend with a lazy Sunday of big breakfasting, followed by an afternoon of good skiing.

The Birches, located between Moosehead and Brassua Lakes, is a wonderful spot, and holing up in a yurt is quite the wilderness experience. Owner John Willard runs a fine operation--many thanks!

More pics and stories on yurtin' to come next week...

Gravel pits.

The quintessential Maine campsite.

On any given weekend from spring through fall you'll find pick-up trucks, campers and cars tucked into gravel pits; chairs set out, fires blazing, drinks in hand.

It's what we do. A part of our heritage. And it saves us money on them fancy type campgrounds.

Besides, you can create more of a ruckus in a remote gravel pit than somewhere more civilized. And don't we enjoy that!

Anyway, a gravel pit was just where me and my trail buddy D-man found ourselves one evening late last week. Right up near the Appalachian Trail, where we maintain contiguous sections of the hallowed footpath.

A gravel pit camp somewhere up north.

Evening campfire.

And after a fun night of gravel-pitting, we did just that: got out the chainsaw and clippers and fire rake and headed off to clear some 5 miles of the AT. Our summer check-in to see that all is well out there.

We took to my section first, removing 24 blowdowns as we went. The humidity was rough and we sweated our way out to the beautiful sand beach at East Carry Pond.

Dana (right) and AT thru-hiker "Just Gene", a Lewiston native.

The sandy beach at Easy Carry Pond on "my" section of trail.

There we jettisoned the gear and went for a cooling swim before finishing up and doubling back to the truck to have a beer and refill on gas and oil.

Southbound now, the bridges across Arnold Bog were still askew from the heavy rains this year. But we managed to shore them up well enough so it wasn't so much of a funhouse-style experience, with shaky planks ready to dump hikers and their heavy packs into the swamp.

We continued on, me sawing away with my trusty Husky and D-man going hard cleaning out those those water bars.

It was all good honest fun until I got my saw pinched in a downed beech tree and the afternoon rains let loose.

It took some chopping with a hand ax and some grunting and groaning, but we finally got my saw free.

Time to call it a day. And we did (after getting my saw unstuck, of course).

Dana headed home while I headed up to the river. The Kennebec River, that is. For a weekend of whitewater rafting and general river debauchery in The Forks.

More on that to come...

Well, my severely blistered brain has finally healed up some after hiking in the atrocious heat and humidity last weekend, and I am back to my usual state of semi-abnormality.

Given that, as my cranium cooling continues, I have just gotten to downloading the photos of my excursion to the uncrowded northern end of Baxter State Park at South Branch Pond.

I don't know about you, but I've probably made more than a hundred trips to the southern part of Baxter, through the Togue Pond gate and thence northeast to Roaring Brook or northwest to Abol or Katahdin Stream.

But I can count only 4 or 5 trips through the Matagamon gate up north.

I fully expect that ratio will change dramatically in the coming years.

Because the north end of the park, dotted as it is with pearls of lakes and ponds and small and medium size mountains that pack a scenic punch, there's next to nobody up there.

Sure, South Branch Pond Campground where we camped in a shoreside lean-to had its share of people there, but the trails and waters in and around it were virtually empty.

Solitude reigned.

And we reveled in it.

While in our kayaks on the waters of Upper and Lower South Branch Ponds anyway.

On the trail, however, solitude and beauty aside, we sweated and suffered. Up and down South Branch and Black Cat Mountains.

And then the monstrous 10-mile Traveler Circuit the next day. Steeply up the Peak of the Ridges, up Traveler Mountain, across Traveler Ridge, and finally bagging North Traveler. Then a plunge back to the valley floor and the life-saving waters of the pond.

It was too hot too continue. Too buggy to stop. A day for heatstroke if there ever was one. But we did it. And it was good. A traverse that rivals any in Maine for mountain scenery and ruggedness.

Try it. You'll see. But please, wait for cooler weather.

So that's the scoop. The northern end of Baxter State Park is where it's at. Away from the summer hoards who all seem to want to congregate around Katahdin. With all due respect to our beloved mountain (and to Governor Baxter himself), let them have it for now.

There's plenty of wilderness to be explored elsewhere in the park. And I'm hot on its trail now...

South Branch Pond Campground is a mere half hour from the Matagamon gate into northern Baxter.

Cozy lean-tos line the shore above South Branch Pond.

Evening light on South Branch Pond.

On the trail to Black Cat Mtn.

Upper South Branch Pond.

A deer on the Pogy Notch Trail.

A cliff's eye view of Upper South Branch Pond.

The pretty but deadly amanita mushroom.

Atop Traveller Mountain with Peak of the Ridges beyond.

In a forest of dwarf birches on North Traveller Mtn.

A rocky spur on North Traveller.

After a thunderstorm on South Branch Pond.

Have you visited the northern reaches of Baxter State Park? What are your favorites hikes up that way?

Yep. Heading north. Up the Interstate. To the big woods.

Bangor. Medway. Millinocket. Baxter State Park. South Branch Pond Campground.

It's off to Baxter State Park for a long weekend for me.

The paddling gear is ready. Hiking stuff, too. Camping gear packed. Food mostly together. Down to a few odds and ends.

Boots. Bug dope. Books. Beer.

The essentials.

On tap for the next three days: Fun. R & R.

More specfically: A circumnavigation of South Branch Pond via Black Cat Mountain. A complete traverse of Traveller Mountain. And some extensive exploring of South Branch Pond by kayak.

That should do nicely for physical activities.

On the butt-sitting, slothy side of things: Some BBQ'd steaks, chops and burgers. Bacon and eggs every day. Hot campfire coffee and ice cold beer (block ice, baby, block ice!). Feet up, book and brew in hand. A snooze or two. A few hours of lakeside lounging looking about and not thinking strenuously about much of anything at all.

I like that.

All good.

See you in a few days...

The good folks at the Appalachian Mountain Club are offering some terrific new ski and stay package deals this winter that should be of interest to cross-country, backcountry and downhill skiers alike.

Here's the deal:

Stay at the AMCs Joe Dodge Lodge at Pinkham Notch, NH and get a comfy room, family-style dinner, big breakfast and a ski pass to nearby Great Glen Trail Outdoor Center and its 25 miles of groomed trails. All for just $62 a night per person ($57 if you're a member).

Or, for just a few bucks more ($73 non-member, $69 member) you can downhill ski at Wildcat Mountain.

Either way, you'll be in the heart of outdoor activity in the White Mountains with spectacular views of the Presidential Range.

Can't beat that. I like it!

The AMC Highland Center at Crawford Notch is offering similar ski & stay deals with Bretton Woods (downhill and cross-country) and Cannon Mountain.

For more information on these great deals plus workshop and event info, check the AMC Winter Planning Guide.

And think snow!

The kayaks are loaded up. Camping duffles packed. Food and cooler are ready. Gas tank full. Jimmy Buffett in the CD player.

Must be the weekend!

Guess it's time to go somewhere and have some outdoor fun.

You'd think this routine would get old and boring but...

NOT A CHANCE!

I'm bound for Errol, N.H. and the beautiful Umbagog Lake region this afternoon for Big Bob's annual paddling and food extravaganza with 30 other MOACers.

It's two full days of camping at pretty Mollidgewock State Park on the banks of the Androscoggin River, with a considerable amount of whitewater and flatwater fun on the river thrown in just for yucks.

I can deal with that. Oh, can I ever deal with that.

Can I just leave now? Please?

What are you up to on this fine looking weekend ahead?

A log cabin in the woods, a beautiful pond out front, big mountains everywhere you look, trails leading off in every direction. A good group of people, tons of food, and coolers full of cold beverages. And three glorious days to enjoy it all.

Yep. That's the painful experience I had to endure last weekend at Kidney Pond in Baxter State Park.

It was hard, very hard, but I managed.

Days we spent off hiking. Some to the heights of Katahdin and Hamlin Peak and Knife Edge, some to the surrounding ponds and streams and waterfalls. Some to North Brother, others up Doubletop.

It was fantastic weather for mountain and woods walking: clear blue skies and warm temps. The mosquitoes and flies liked it too, but no matter.

Evenings... On the porch of the cabin with appetizers and cold ones in hand, talking about our hikes and laughing it up. A refreshing and cleansing swim in the pond. A delightful paddle in canoe or kayak with the magnificence of Katahdin reflecting on the calm water. Scrumptious dinners of burgers and chicken and chili.

I'd never stayed at Kidney Pond as a guest, only as a member of a trail crew, so this was a real treat. There surely was no real work to be done on this trip. Other than getting in lots of great hiking and paddling, turning lots of pages of a good book, sitting about on the porch and doing not much of anything, and making sure I got to the bottom of my cooler and not letting any of those beers go bad.

It was all too much fun and the weekend flew by. I hope to be back up there real soon...

Kidney Pond Camps, Baxter. Squaw's Bosom and Doubletop Mountain in the background.

Cabin on Kidney Pond, Baxter.

The gang hanging out on the porch at Happy Hour.

Late afternoon on Katahdin from Kidney Pond.

Evening glow on Katahdin from the canoe on Kidney Pond.

Sunset over Kidney Pond. Sentinel Mountain is to the right.

A friendly campground visitor.

Nancy chatting with Bill, who has been visiting Baxter for 80 years!

Logging some time on the AT.

Doubletop from the outlet of Tracy Pond.

The old Toll Dam on Nesowadnehunk Stream. Mt. OJI in the distance.

On the spruce-scented trail to Grassy Pond.

Yee-hah!

I'm off later this afternoon for a few days in Baxter State Park with friends.

Somebody's gotta do it. And I'm feeling quite up for the task.

A cozy log cabin on the shore of Kidney Pond. Hiking, kayaking, swimming, reading, lounging, mulling about. A lot of something and a lot of nothing. All amid the magnificence of Mount Katahdin and the Baxter wilderness.

Camping gear? Check.

Bug dope? Check.

Cooler? Check.

Teef? Check.

OK then.

Time to load 'em up and move on out. I'm headin' to the North Woods...

Any weekend that I can head out of town with a carload of hiking gear, golf clubs, kayak and mountain bike just has to be a good one.

The car loaded to the gills and ready for any and all adventures...

And so it was a week ago when I traveled north to Branch Lake in Ellsworth for the annual summer gathering of my old college friends from the University of Maine (with at least one other Bangor High grad thrown in for good measure).

We call this event "Big Deck" and have been having fun with it for 15 years. I wouldn't miss it for the world.

Why "Big Deck"?

Well, because we're not that creative I guess. The first year we held the event it was at a cottage with a 'big deck' overlooking Southwest Harbor. And so it stuck. Even after we moved the gathering to Kathy's camp on Branch Lake--which has a smaller deck-- the next year (and every year thereafter). But we certainly weren't going to rename the event "Small Deck"!

My friend Kathy's camp (with deck) on Branch Lake, a small corner of paradise.

The Big Deck gang relaxes at lakeside.

Besides, Big Deck follows suit with the other traditional events my warped college friends and I are so fond of. Like Big Chill, the original, and our annual winter adventure to northern New Hampshire with skiing at Burke Mountain in Vermont. Then there's Big Game, another name for UMaine Homecoming each fall. And Big Fart (an event replaced by Reggae Weekend), our spring skiing weekend at the Loaf, named for Ben's infamous gas-inducing mystery meat casserole.

Back to Big Deck...

I started off the long weekend with a sweet solo hike up Mansell and Bernard Mountains on the western side of Mount Desert Island. Cool forest of spruce and fir, nice views of the ocean and the east side of Acadia, and not another soul around. I like that.

View of Southwest Harbor from Mansell Peak, Acadia National Park.

Lupines along Route 102A, Southwest Harbor.

Then it was up to the lake to meet up with the gang and have some serious fun. And we did. For two very full days.

We made multiple forays up and down the lake in kayaks, played a round of bad golf, waterskiied, swam, mountain biked, laughed and laughed, ate and ate and ate, watched bald eagles and great blue herons sweep by, lounged in the sun, admired the spectacular sunsets, lazed by the fire, and fell asleep to the sound of loons wailing on the water.

Taking a break from paddling on Branch Lake.

Paddling under the setting sun on Branch Lake.

It's an idyllic place, and with a great group of friends, you don't ever want to leave. In fact, part of me is still there now...

Last weekend was a cold and blustery one at Trout Brook Farm in the northeast corner of Baxter State Park. Nighttime temperatures plummeted to around -20F, according to the tenters in our group who squatted out in the field.

Inside the bunkhouse, however, temperatures were a balmy 70F or higher, often forcing the occupants (including yours truly) to strip down to long johns to avoid any uncomfortable sweating.

The bunkhouse at Trout Brook Farm.

"Put another log on there, would ya Andi? It's dipping below 80F in here and I'm feeling a bit of a chill."

"Peppermint schnapps in their cocoa anyone?"

"Jeff, there's a knock at the door. Must be those damn tenters again wanting to get warm. Tell them they can't stay long."

"More cheese and crackers?"

"Great Scott! I've only two more cans of Boddington's Ale left!"

Yes, it was hard, but we managed...

Saturday's objective was nearby Trout Mountain. A hour of fun snowshoeing got us to the top and rewarded us with wonderful views of the Baxter wilderness, including Traveler Mountain, Bald Rock and Long Pond. Disappointingly, the big one, Mount Katahdin, wasn't visible from this vantage point.

Traveler Mtn., Bald Rock, and Long Pond from Trout Mtn.

We lunched in the lee of the summit, in a windless, sunny little bowl. We munched and chatted and warmed our faces in the sun.

The trail down the other side was hard to decipher, so Phil led us off on a bushwhack, slipping and sliding and hooting and hollering on the steep pitches, all the way down to beautiful, quiet Littlefield Pond. From there, we chugged our way back to the bunkhouse and happy hour.

Snowshoeing along Littlefield Pond.

Jeff signals his approval of the bunkhouse as the woodstove heats up.

We're back by late afternoon, tired and happy, and we sit about the bunkhouse and relax. I am slouched in a chair by the woodstove, beer in hand, semi-comatose, and loving it, until...

Suddenly there is a whole lot of activity. A loud hissing sound. Lots of shouting. Bodies scattering in all directions.

Somehow the gas canister of one of the lanterns has come loose in Andi's hands and is now spewing a jet of butane-propane mix into the room.

This is not good.

Another lantern is also on. A gas stove is running. And eight people in very flammable clothing are in a very small space. If spewing gas meets open flame, we're gonna have one big time indoor barbeque.

The gas canister gets booted outside into the snowbank. We are saved from immolation. Heart rates return to semi-normal. Nervous chatter subsides.

The night sky is brilliant. Orion. Pleiades. Big Dipper. Moon rise. A spectacular show. But it's cold again and we can't stay outside for long. Except, of course, if you're a tenter. Hah!

Breakfast. I'm sitting quietly at the picnic table, stove going for coffee water, reading a book. Not paying real close attention to any activity around me.

My dear friend Andi is now handling her stove. A gasoline stove. The fuel bottle is overpressurized and suddenly begins spraying white gas in my direction, where, conveniently, my roaring stove is also located.

Good God, I think, am I really meant to die this way? Flash-fried to death in a wilderness cabin?

I can see the ugly headline now...

CAMPER INCINERATED. BODY PARTS CARRIED OUT IN SMALL ZIP-LOCK BAG.

But nothing ignites and the fuel bottle is tossed out into the snowbank. Whew!

It's an uneventful, but cold ski out under blue skies. As I glide along, though, I ponder buying a lightweight fireproof suit for Andi's next hut trip...

Headed out...

I can smell a late breakfast in Patten already!