I came back to my blog today, and I discovered a forgotten post from March of this year. The post was written when I was still trying to process the loss of a job with a company I had been a part of for almost ten years. In essence, the longest relationship I had maintained in my adult life was with this company - and while there were many restructures over the years, this was the first time my name was unexpectedly included among the casualties. Looking at the date, exactly nine months have passed since that day. It's crazy how quickly time flies... in the last nine months, I have changed jobs twice, we've welcomed home a new puppy, we've lost a dear friend, and we've taken on the new adventure of married life. So much happens with so little time passing.
Consider this blog a bit of playing catch up. I plan to spread this out over several posts. I will no doubt fail to give each event the attention that it deserves, and also miss some events that normally would be included were I keeping up with this blog as I should. So if you are reading this, bear with me. And I will make the sincere effort to do better in the future.
What do you want to be when you grow up?
I came home in March. The original plan was to come home full-time in August, but life had other plans for me. At almost 32 years of age, I was faced with the question of "What do you want to do with the rest of your life?" It took me the last nine months to figure that out, but that's better than rushing into anything. My experience to date revolved around Sales and Use Tax and the software that large companies required to track, report, and remit those taxes. Coming home to Millinocket, ME - there wasn't exactly a market for that sort of thing. Honestly - there isn't much of a market for anything in Millinocket. The mills have shut down, a large percentage of the population is unemployed, and with the current state of the area - there isn't much in the way of full-time employment. My situation looked bleak, and so I felt a career change was needed. I applied to Eastern Maine Community College (EMCC) with the intent to enter their Medical Radiography program. It would allow me to continue my unemployment benefits while going to school full-time. I saw this as a win-win situation...until I realized that they were not accepting applications for this program until the fall...for a start date of the following fall semester. My timing wasn't right, and so I applied for the Liberal Studies track and continued looking for employment.
I ended up taking a part-time job with EMCC at Katahdin Region Higher Education Center (KRHEC). KRHEC is a distance learning center for University College (University of Maine System) and EMCC. I picked up the allowed 6 credits of coursework on an employee tuition waiver, and I continued to look for full-time employment. I still was not 100% sure what direction I would like to go in my career change, but I had a wedding coming up in September to focus on - and that took up a great deal of my spare time.
The summer flew by, September saw me turn 32 and change my last name (more on that later), and in October I thought I had found a perfect opportunity for me. A firm in Bangor was looking for someone to fill a position that was almost identical to the position I held in Massachusetts. The pay was great for this area, and the benefits were better than I had at my prior position. There was just one catch - it was 60+ minutes each way, five days a week, for a commute. I came home trying to focus on the positives and stay excited about the opportunity. The company was well-respected. The people there were amazing. But did I want to give up that much of my week to a company/job rather than spend it with my family? My husband, as always, was supportive of whatever decision I would make. And in the end - while out duck-hunting of all things - I told him that I just couldn't take a job that would take away my opportunity to do things like this with him before/after work. Family was my focus now, not career.
That was a hard pill to swallow. For ten years, career was my focus. I became defined by my work ethic, my subject area knowledge, and basically... by my paycheck. When my family talked about me, it was always pride about how much I was making - when someone asked who I was, I always seemed to lead with my career. So who was I without it? Who was I without a focus on career? It took me going back to basics and reaching into the past to figure that out. I made lists, I wrote in my journal, and I thought long and hard about the things I enjoyed doing - not the things that would make the most money. It all brought me right back to where I had started - Education. It was my original intention when I enrolled at University of Maine - Presque Isle back in 2002, and now it seems I've come full-circle. I think it was also heavily influenced by memories of my great-grandmother, Lyda, who was in the education field for over 40 years.
On November 30th, I began my current position in Milo, ME as an Educational Technician III/BHP. I work with children who, for one reason or another, cannot be in the regular classroom. The goal of this program is to help them to develop the necessary coping skills so that they may return to the regular classroom and be successful. I've only been there a few weeks. I come home exhausted every day. But I love my job and truly feel a part of something that is making a difference. This has led me to apply for my teacher certification with the Maine Department of Education and register for my Praxis exam - a standardized exam required for all teachers. In the end, I would love to follow in Gram Steen's footsteps - teaching the next generation and having a positive impact. Every child needs at least one adult they can trust to succeed. I hope my future students find that in their own families, but if not - they may find that in Mrs. Winslow's math class.
For now - I am happy. I will not say content because being content leads a person to be stagnant. We always should have goals we are working for. I am happy working with my students in Milo. I am happy to have found my path forward, although there will undoubtedly be some hard work on the road ahead.
Sunday, December 18, 2016
The Owl - March 2016
It just so happens that I am lucky enough to be engaged to a Law Enforcement Ranger in Baxter State Park. I say lucky for many reasons, but on one particular day in March - it was because I had the opportunity to hop on the back of a sled to Katahdin Stream Campground. Rangers Mike and Bruce were beginning work on replacing the foot-bridge at Katahdin Stream, and they would be there for the whole day. This gave me a full day of hiking where I could choose from any number of trails that begin there. Being a solo-hiker, I chose the less strenuous hike of The Owl over climbing Katahdin.
It was really my first time out in the woods since losing my job at Taxware, LLC in Massachusetts. For the first time, I fell casualty to a corporate restructure. As with any great "loss" I have experienced, I knew that time in the woods would serve me well. It's a place to both lose the world and find yourself - a place that offers much healing.
I was fortunate to have a clear, sunny day to hike. While it was a little chilly in the woods, as I gained elevation and the trees thinned - the temperature rose. By the time I reached the summit, I had shed all but my base-layer. On the climb, I lost myself in the simplicity of just placing one foot in front of the other. The feeling of breathing in the cold air, the sound of all of the birds around me - even just the slight breeze moving through the trees. It all seemed to wash the filth of the city away from my mind. Odd as it sounds, it was like hitting a reset button in my soul.
After reaching the summit, I turned back down the mountain to stop at a look-out just shy of the summit. Clouds had rolled in earlier in the day, so there was no view of the mountain. I didn't care - I grabbed some plank photos for Boots, took out my PB&J, and just watched the clouds moving through. I thought a lot about life in the time I sat there. It's the kind of reflection that happens on it's own and only when you feel a bit isolated from the world. I know that just a few miles away there were two rangers hard at work, but the feeling of isolation was still there. It allowed me to process all that had happened in such a short time, and as I sat there counting my blessings - family, friends, the love of a ranger - the clouds cleared along with my mood. There is nothing more healing than time in the North Maine Woods.
It was really my first time out in the woods since losing my job at Taxware, LLC in Massachusetts. For the first time, I fell casualty to a corporate restructure. As with any great "loss" I have experienced, I knew that time in the woods would serve me well. It's a place to both lose the world and find yourself - a place that offers much healing.
I was fortunate to have a clear, sunny day to hike. While it was a little chilly in the woods, as I gained elevation and the trees thinned - the temperature rose. By the time I reached the summit, I had shed all but my base-layer. On the climb, I lost myself in the simplicity of just placing one foot in front of the other. The feeling of breathing in the cold air, the sound of all of the birds around me - even just the slight breeze moving through the trees. It all seemed to wash the filth of the city away from my mind. Odd as it sounds, it was like hitting a reset button in my soul.
After reaching the summit, I turned back down the mountain to stop at a look-out just shy of the summit. Clouds had rolled in earlier in the day, so there was no view of the mountain. I didn't care - I grabbed some plank photos for Boots, took out my PB&J, and just watched the clouds moving through. I thought a lot about life in the time I sat there. It's the kind of reflection that happens on it's own and only when you feel a bit isolated from the world. I know that just a few miles away there were two rangers hard at work, but the feeling of isolation was still there. It allowed me to process all that had happened in such a short time, and as I sat there counting my blessings - family, friends, the love of a ranger - the clouds cleared along with my mood. There is nothing more healing than time in the North Maine Woods.
Monday, February 8, 2016
Mt Katahdin - Winter 2016
Katahdin.... Winter... sitting here now, those two words alone are enough to make me shiver. It was June 2015 when this trip was first mentioned, though, and with 7 months and an entire summer between me and the mountain - all I had was a feeling of excitement about a new adventure. Ted "Gunny" Coffin and Ranger Mike were discussing the trip quite a bit, and I wasn't even sure if I would be included in those plans given that it sounded more like a guys weekend. When everyone first started discussing the trip, Ranger Mike and I were barely even friends... my how things change.
That sense of solitude ended when we arrived at the bunkhouse at Roaring Brook. We had a bunk-mate who had decided to begin his trip at 2am from Abol Bridge. Unfortunately, he didn't seem very adept at building a fire, and the temperature inside the bunkhouse was significantly colder than it was outside. Mike quickly got to work building the fire while we unpacked and loaded up on calories - a 13 mile ski is a great excuse to gorge yourself on cookies, and I took full advantage of that! That's actually how we spent much of the rest of the day with some cribbage games thrown in for good measure.
As we chatted with our bunk-mate, Isaac, we learned he was on a solo trip spanning several days. He had never snowshoed hauling a sled, and so he had gotten a significantly earlier start than we had to allow himself ample time to reach Roaring Brook. After several conversations about his planned trip, dreams of long distance hiking in Alaska, and sharing some dried squid from Marden's with Gunny (seriously... I can't make this stuff up) - Isaac spent most of his time reading or napping in his bunk.
We were scheduled to have two more bunk-mates for that evening, and they soon came rolling in (skiing in?) and entered the bunkhouse to warm up. They were both Canadian, and their first language was very obviously French. It was a language barrier that made conversation both challenging and humorous. We were suspicious when one of the first questions they asked us was "Do you speak French?"....none of us did. I wish I had because I'm sure there was some great color commentary when we broke out the cribbage board a short time later.
The Canadians - as they will be referred to because unfortunately none of us exchanged names - were in Baxter to do some ice climbing. They chatted with Mike for a bit about the conditions they could expect when they reached Chimney Pond, and then they decided to hike the extra 3.3 miles up to the bunkhouse at Chimney Pond to take advantage of one more day of ice climbing. From there on it was a quiet night interrupted only twice - once for Ranger Greg to stop in and humiliate me at cribbage...and then again when a mouse decided there must be something yummy in Gunny's ruck.
Day 2 - Friday, January 22nd
Our morning at Roaring Brook was pretty uneventful. We had planned on getting an early start so that we might get ahead of Ranger Greg and help with shoveling off some bridges on the trail. But - early wake-ups were never something I was very good at. Greg rolled through about 20 minutes or more before we were ready to hit the trail. We caught up with him at one of the bridges not long after we left Roaring Brook, though, and between Gunny and Mike - they made short work of the snow removal needed on the bridge.
From there, we snowshoed the rest of the way to Chimney stopping briefly at halfway viewpoint and crossing Basin Pond on our way. The view from halfway viewpoint was Gunny's first close up view of the mountain in winter, and he looked like a kid on Christmas morning. It didn't take us long to reach Chimney Pond from there, and we had the good fortune of being able to stay in the Ranger Camp with Ranger Greg. We had been set to use the Crew Camp, but why heat more than one camp if you don't need to, right?
The camp had been unoccupied for a few days, so it was colder inside than it was outside...and this trip to Chimney Pond was considerably colder than our trip at Christmas. Temperatures were in the teens while we were there and -3F on the morning we left. Mike set to building a fire while we unpacked our bags and sorted through our gear. Not long after, Ranger Rob Tice showed up - followed by Ranger Greg. Similar to Mike, Rob is a Law Enforcement Ranger in the park and supervises staff and operations at Roaring Brook, Chimney Pond, and Russell Pond. He was only stopping in to check the batteries at the Ranger camp, but stayed a little longer for lunch and to talk about skiing for a while.
Mike and Gunny got ambitious enough to want to try some ice climbing while there was still light out. I decided to sit that one out, figuring I would get my fill of climbing the next day when we made our way to the summit. I stayed behind for a few more games of cribbage with Greg - the well-respected "Cribbage Champion of Chimney Pond." It turned out that was a wise decision since the snow conditions made for difficult travel for Mike and Gunny. They returned a short time later and opted to fill the rest of their day with cribbage, as well.
Day 3 - Saturday, January 23rd
The day was finally here - Summit Day.... after conversations with Greg the night before, Mike and Gunny wanted to do a longer route for the day's climb. The plan originally had been to ascend/descend via the Saddle Trail. The new plan was to ascend via the Dudley Trail, cross Knife's Edge, and descend via the Saddle Trail. That would end up making for a much longer day and include a challenging climb through the Chimney as we left Pamola Peak. But the Canadians had done it near dark descending via Dudley Trail to break the trail out the night before.. so how hard could it be?
We set out around 8am to climb to Pamola Peak. It was an icy climb, but with the right gear it didn't seem so bad - minus my crampons coming off a couple of times...guess it's time to buy my own gear, not use hand-me-downs. Many times when I climb, my hip will bother me with the repetitive motion of climbing a trail like Chimney Pond trail, but on Dudley there was none of that. It is my favorite trail I have climbed in my time in the park. I had so much fun scrambling over the rocks and trying to figure out the easiest/safest way to climb some of them that the hike didn't really even feel like work. I think that when your mind is challenged along with your body, you don't notice the physical strain as much. It seemed like it took us no time to reach Pamola Peak, even though in all likelihood it took us a couple of hours.
I've climbed to Pamola Peak, done Knife's Edge, and stood on Baxter Peak. There are still others I need to climb, but so far Pamola is my favorite. The view from Pamola looking across Knife's Edge to Baxter is amazing. If you've never been there, add this hike to your bucket list. Looking at the mountain from this perspective in the summer is breathtaking. Looking at the mountain from this perspective in winter is also intimidating.
We paused for a few pictures at the Pamola sign. It was so covered in ice that you could barely tell there was a sign there. As fortunate as we were to have a beautiful day to climb, it made me wonder what a severe weather day would be like on the mountain. We began our descent down behind Pamola Peak for a safer trek into the Chimney. While Mike is right at home ice climbing, down-climbing into the Chimney was not something Gunny and I were comfortable with. As we stood in the Chimney looking up at the climb we would need to make to reach Knife's Edge and continue our trip - Gunny got very quiet, and I got very nervous.
We had rope with us, and we had mountaineering axes. But we had no technical ice tools, and Mike was the only one with real experience in these climbing conditions. In the end, facing the very real possibility of falling during our ascent, we all decided it was the better course of action to descend via the same trail we had climbed. We made our way back to Pamola Peak and began our hike down the Dudley Trail.
For Gunny, I'm sure the hike down seemed much faster than the hike up. For me - well I seemed to find every patch of snow that was unstable enough to drop me through the crust. I came away from the mountain looking like I'd been kicked in the shins for an hour and feeling thankful no children were at Chimney Pond waiting to expand their vocabulary. Both Mike and Gunny seemed to get a kick out of the color commentary, though, so I guess it wasn't a total waste.
When we reached the camp, we were all happy to have a seat and relax. I got to baking, and soon we made a meal out of a pan of gingerbread - minus a couple of pieces for the Canadians on their way by the camp. You should have seen their faces as they came off the ice to find a piece of gingerbread handed to them through the window...still warm from the oven. We may not know their names, but I still think we gained a few friends. We spent the rest of that night much like we had the night before - with good food, great conversation, and more than a couple games of cribbage. I got a few wins in against Ranger Greg, but by the end of the night - he was still the reigning Cribbage Champion of Chimney Pond.
Day 4 - Sunday, January 24th
We woke up earlier than we needed to on Sunday. I guess something in me was restless knowing that it was time to go home. As Mike and I laid there watching the sunrise light up the mountain, I wondered if there would ever be a time that I tired of the sight. I really don't think there will be. We quickly packed our bags and fueled for the trip back to our vehicles....over 16 miles away.
All of the days leading up to this trip, this was the leg of our journey I was most intimidated by. It wasn't the mountain, it was the long haul back out from Chimney Pond after 3 days of running my body ragged. I was pleasantly surprised to find that I was more capable than I had thought. The trip out was relatively uneventful. We met several groups on their way to Roaring Brook, ran into Ranger Rob Tice once more, and just had fun enjoying the relatively warm winter day. We had only left Chimney around 8am, but by 230pm - we were back at our vehicles. Other than an insane craving for a burger and a beer, I really didn't feel that bad off. So that's just what we did...stopped at The Sawmill for lunch before we said our good-byes and headed for home.
If you ever have the opportunity to visit Baxter State Park in the winter, I strongly encourage you to do so. There is so much more to see than the Tote Road will show you. But if you venture out on snowshoe or ski - be sure to educate yourself before your trip. As beautiful as the wilderness can be in winter, it also offers a whole new set of obstacles that need to be considered for a safe and successful trip.
Fast forward to January, and now Ranger Mike and Ziggy go together like peas and carrots..or something like that. So of course in the weeks leading up to the Katahdin trip, Mike was egging me on encouraging me to sign up for the four day trip. To be quite honest, I was a bit terrified. The last time I had climbed Katahdin (ok the only time), it was an almost 10 mile trek ascending via Helon Taylor, crossing Knife's Edge, and descending via Saddle and Chimney Pond. By the end of the day, I was barely hobbling along and sincerely humbled by the mountain. I would be sore for most of the next week after the climb.
Now Mike was asking me to sign up for a trip that would span four days and include 26 miles of skiing, 6.6 miles of snowshoeing, and a 2.8 mile round trip trek up the mountain and back via the Dudley Trail carrying everything we needed in packs and/or pulling a sled. I have honestly never been more intimidated and anxious about a trip in my life. That anxiety came not only from wondering if I could make it through the trip, but also out of a fear of holding up the rest of the group. It was a very fit group of guys with events like Extremus and Infinitus under their belts. How was I to keep up? Of course in the end Ranger Mike convinced me that I would be fine on this trip, that I could and would keep up with the group, and that I would be kicking myself with regrets if I did not go. And in all cases, he was right. It was an amazing adventure, and now that I have had a taste of the mountain in winter, I am hooked. Here is a little bit of our first trip for those who have never been. Maybe it will encourage you to overcome your fears and head out into the woods, too - and maybe we'll see each other on the trails!
Day 1 - Thursday, January 21
The day started with an early morning wake-up to meet Gunny at Baxter State Park Headquarters. He was to follow us to Abol Bridge where we would be parking our vehicles during the trip. In winter the park is accessible only via snowmobile (Tote Road only) or by skiing/snowshoeing in from Abol Bridge. The road to the gate is not maintained in the winter, and only snowmobiles are allowed on that road. Read that as Don't drive to the gate expecting to access the park or you will be fined!
This day would begin at Abol Bridge and end 13 miles away at Roaring Brook, taking us through the woods on the Abol Stream Trail and then traveling the Tote Road and Roaring Brook Road. We had spots reserved in the bunkhouse at Roaring Brook once we got there, and I remember wondering who would be sharing the bunkhouse with us and hoping they would have a fire going when we got there.
Gunny would be making the trek on snowshoes, and Mike and I would be traveling with skis. I think the last time I had been on skis was around age 12, but after a refresher that Monday night I was confident I could make the trip in just fine. We each had packs with our gear, and Mike was towing a sled behind him as he skied. I was surprised at how much easier travel was on skis. I guess I just never had thought about it before, but as I let gravity carry me down every downhill we came to - it made me wonder why I had given it up so many years ago.
The only people we saw on our entire trip to Roaring Brook were Ranger Dave Loome and Ranger Greg Hamer as they passed us on snowmobiles. It was a big change from my typical experiences in the park where you encounter people every few minutes unless you venture way into the back-country. The feeling of solitude was a welcome break from the busy work life I have in Massachusetts. The trip to Roaring Brook took us at least 6 hours, but it passed by very quickly. It's hard to maintain any sense of time when you are gliding down hills, breathing in the crisp winter air, and being blessed with a magnificent view of Katahdin.
That sense of solitude ended when we arrived at the bunkhouse at Roaring Brook. We had a bunk-mate who had decided to begin his trip at 2am from Abol Bridge. Unfortunately, he didn't seem very adept at building a fire, and the temperature inside the bunkhouse was significantly colder than it was outside. Mike quickly got to work building the fire while we unpacked and loaded up on calories - a 13 mile ski is a great excuse to gorge yourself on cookies, and I took full advantage of that! That's actually how we spent much of the rest of the day with some cribbage games thrown in for good measure.
As we chatted with our bunk-mate, Isaac, we learned he was on a solo trip spanning several days. He had never snowshoed hauling a sled, and so he had gotten a significantly earlier start than we had to allow himself ample time to reach Roaring Brook. After several conversations about his planned trip, dreams of long distance hiking in Alaska, and sharing some dried squid from Marden's with Gunny (seriously... I can't make this stuff up) - Isaac spent most of his time reading or napping in his bunk.
We were scheduled to have two more bunk-mates for that evening, and they soon came rolling in (skiing in?) and entered the bunkhouse to warm up. They were both Canadian, and their first language was very obviously French. It was a language barrier that made conversation both challenging and humorous. We were suspicious when one of the first questions they asked us was "Do you speak French?"....none of us did. I wish I had because I'm sure there was some great color commentary when we broke out the cribbage board a short time later.
The Canadians - as they will be referred to because unfortunately none of us exchanged names - were in Baxter to do some ice climbing. They chatted with Mike for a bit about the conditions they could expect when they reached Chimney Pond, and then they decided to hike the extra 3.3 miles up to the bunkhouse at Chimney Pond to take advantage of one more day of ice climbing. From there on it was a quiet night interrupted only twice - once for Ranger Greg to stop in and humiliate me at cribbage...and then again when a mouse decided there must be something yummy in Gunny's ruck.
Day 2 - Friday, January 22nd
Our morning at Roaring Brook was pretty uneventful. We had planned on getting an early start so that we might get ahead of Ranger Greg and help with shoveling off some bridges on the trail. But - early wake-ups were never something I was very good at. Greg rolled through about 20 minutes or more before we were ready to hit the trail. We caught up with him at one of the bridges not long after we left Roaring Brook, though, and between Gunny and Mike - they made short work of the snow removal needed on the bridge.
From there, we snowshoed the rest of the way to Chimney stopping briefly at halfway viewpoint and crossing Basin Pond on our way. The view from halfway viewpoint was Gunny's first close up view of the mountain in winter, and he looked like a kid on Christmas morning. It didn't take us long to reach Chimney Pond from there, and we had the good fortune of being able to stay in the Ranger Camp with Ranger Greg. We had been set to use the Crew Camp, but why heat more than one camp if you don't need to, right?
The camp had been unoccupied for a few days, so it was colder inside than it was outside...and this trip to Chimney Pond was considerably colder than our trip at Christmas. Temperatures were in the teens while we were there and -3F on the morning we left. Mike set to building a fire while we unpacked our bags and sorted through our gear. Not long after, Ranger Rob Tice showed up - followed by Ranger Greg. Similar to Mike, Rob is a Law Enforcement Ranger in the park and supervises staff and operations at Roaring Brook, Chimney Pond, and Russell Pond. He was only stopping in to check the batteries at the Ranger camp, but stayed a little longer for lunch and to talk about skiing for a while.
Mike and Gunny got ambitious enough to want to try some ice climbing while there was still light out. I decided to sit that one out, figuring I would get my fill of climbing the next day when we made our way to the summit. I stayed behind for a few more games of cribbage with Greg - the well-respected "Cribbage Champion of Chimney Pond." It turned out that was a wise decision since the snow conditions made for difficult travel for Mike and Gunny. They returned a short time later and opted to fill the rest of their day with cribbage, as well.
Day 3 - Saturday, January 23rd
The day was finally here - Summit Day.... after conversations with Greg the night before, Mike and Gunny wanted to do a longer route for the day's climb. The plan originally had been to ascend/descend via the Saddle Trail. The new plan was to ascend via the Dudley Trail, cross Knife's Edge, and descend via the Saddle Trail. That would end up making for a much longer day and include a challenging climb through the Chimney as we left Pamola Peak. But the Canadians had done it near dark descending via Dudley Trail to break the trail out the night before.. so how hard could it be?
We set out around 8am to climb to Pamola Peak. It was an icy climb, but with the right gear it didn't seem so bad - minus my crampons coming off a couple of times...guess it's time to buy my own gear, not use hand-me-downs. Many times when I climb, my hip will bother me with the repetitive motion of climbing a trail like Chimney Pond trail, but on Dudley there was none of that. It is my favorite trail I have climbed in my time in the park. I had so much fun scrambling over the rocks and trying to figure out the easiest/safest way to climb some of them that the hike didn't really even feel like work. I think that when your mind is challenged along with your body, you don't notice the physical strain as much. It seemed like it took us no time to reach Pamola Peak, even though in all likelihood it took us a couple of hours.
I've climbed to Pamola Peak, done Knife's Edge, and stood on Baxter Peak. There are still others I need to climb, but so far Pamola is my favorite. The view from Pamola looking across Knife's Edge to Baxter is amazing. If you've never been there, add this hike to your bucket list. Looking at the mountain from this perspective in the summer is breathtaking. Looking at the mountain from this perspective in winter is also intimidating.
We paused for a few pictures at the Pamola sign. It was so covered in ice that you could barely tell there was a sign there. As fortunate as we were to have a beautiful day to climb, it made me wonder what a severe weather day would be like on the mountain. We began our descent down behind Pamola Peak for a safer trek into the Chimney. While Mike is right at home ice climbing, down-climbing into the Chimney was not something Gunny and I were comfortable with. As we stood in the Chimney looking up at the climb we would need to make to reach Knife's Edge and continue our trip - Gunny got very quiet, and I got very nervous.
We had rope with us, and we had mountaineering axes. But we had no technical ice tools, and Mike was the only one with real experience in these climbing conditions. In the end, facing the very real possibility of falling during our ascent, we all decided it was the better course of action to descend via the same trail we had climbed. We made our way back to Pamola Peak and began our hike down the Dudley Trail.
For Gunny, I'm sure the hike down seemed much faster than the hike up. For me - well I seemed to find every patch of snow that was unstable enough to drop me through the crust. I came away from the mountain looking like I'd been kicked in the shins for an hour and feeling thankful no children were at Chimney Pond waiting to expand their vocabulary. Both Mike and Gunny seemed to get a kick out of the color commentary, though, so I guess it wasn't a total waste.
When we reached the camp, we were all happy to have a seat and relax. I got to baking, and soon we made a meal out of a pan of gingerbread - minus a couple of pieces for the Canadians on their way by the camp. You should have seen their faces as they came off the ice to find a piece of gingerbread handed to them through the window...still warm from the oven. We may not know their names, but I still think we gained a few friends. We spent the rest of that night much like we had the night before - with good food, great conversation, and more than a couple games of cribbage. I got a few wins in against Ranger Greg, but by the end of the night - he was still the reigning Cribbage Champion of Chimney Pond.
Day 4 - Sunday, January 24th
We woke up earlier than we needed to on Sunday. I guess something in me was restless knowing that it was time to go home. As Mike and I laid there watching the sunrise light up the mountain, I wondered if there would ever be a time that I tired of the sight. I really don't think there will be. We quickly packed our bags and fueled for the trip back to our vehicles....over 16 miles away.
All of the days leading up to this trip, this was the leg of our journey I was most intimidated by. It wasn't the mountain, it was the long haul back out from Chimney Pond after 3 days of running my body ragged. I was pleasantly surprised to find that I was more capable than I had thought. The trip out was relatively uneventful. We met several groups on their way to Roaring Brook, ran into Ranger Rob Tice once more, and just had fun enjoying the relatively warm winter day. We had only left Chimney around 8am, but by 230pm - we were back at our vehicles. Other than an insane craving for a burger and a beer, I really didn't feel that bad off. So that's just what we did...stopped at The Sawmill for lunch before we said our good-byes and headed for home.
If you ever have the opportunity to visit Baxter State Park in the winter, I strongly encourage you to do so. There is so much more to see than the Tote Road will show you. But if you venture out on snowshoe or ski - be sure to educate yourself before your trip. As beautiful as the wilderness can be in winter, it also offers a whole new set of obstacles that need to be considered for a safe and successful trip.
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| Gunny, Ranger Mike, and me |
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| Mike on the ski in |
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| View into the basin from the chimney. |
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| Ranger Mike and me on Pamola Peak |
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| Gunny on Pamola Peak |
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| Ranger Mike testing out the conditions in the chimney. |
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| Pamola Peak sign covered in ice. |
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| Knife's Edge and Baxter Peak in the background. |
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| Ranger Mike on the Dudley Trail. |
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| View from the chimney. |
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| Gunny and me on the Dudley Trail. |
Tuesday, February 2, 2016
Christmas at Chimney Pond
There are many perks to being the fiance of a Baxter State Park Enforcement Ranger, and it turns out that this past Christmas holiday - one of them was taking a turn covering the Back-country Ranger position at Chimney Pond. Mike had told me around Thanksgiving that it looked like he would be assigned to cover the time just before and just after the Christmas holiday, and with a 3.3 mile hike up and back - we figured why not just stay the extra day there over the holiday?
Christmas Eve started with a trip up to Pamola Caves. Our original plan had been for Mike to teach me bit about ice climbing while we were there, but the weather took a strange turn around Christmas this year. We had temperatures in the mid-50s at Chimney Pond, and the breeze off the mountain actually felt warmer. That's unheard of at that time of year! By the time we would leave to go home, there wouldn't be much ice left that was good for climbing. The trip to Pamola Caves was fun, though. Mike gave me a few basic pointers when it came to being on the mountain in winter, and neither of us had ever been to Pamola Caves before. Honestly, I just enjoyed being outside on the mountain with Mike. It never seems to matter what exactly has gotten us out into the woods - just that we were there and there together.
Christmas Day was more of the same. Waking up to a winter morning at Chimney Pond with no one else around - I cannot really explain what it is like to someone who has never been there. Everything is quiet and peaceful. The air is crisp and clean. Maybe it's Chimney Pond, maybe it's Ranger Mike - but of all the Christmas holidays that I have spent with friends and family, none has felt more like home than this Christmas.
It was difficult to pack up when it was time to go home. As much as a part of me was ready for the luxuries such as running water, a hot shower, and a glass of wine - part of me didn't want the holiday to end. When you are at Chimney Pond, it's as if the rest of the world doesn't exist. All of your troubles are so far away that it's easy to get lost in the contentment of a simple life. But like all things, our time at Chimney had to come to an end. We made the hike back down to Roaring Brook, and it was an odd feeling to get into the truck and drive somewhere rather than hike. It wasn't long before we were back at the house in Millinocket, but I think a piece of my heart will forever be at Chimney Pond.
It was our first Christmas together, and it was almost like something out of a romance novel to be able to spend it in the middle of a 250,000 acre state park without another soul around for miles. We arrived at Chimney Pond on December 22nd, and we would stay at the Ranger Station there through until December 27th. There was far less snow on the trail than is typical for this time of year, and the trip up passed quickly. This was a good thing given that we were planning on making another trip down the following day to pick up more supplies ("supplies" meaning "food" - we are both fat kids at heart). We arrived at the Ranger Station a little later in the day and quickly set about the process of unpacking, getting a fire going in the wood stove, and just making ourselves at home. It was a quiet night, of course, and that was exactly what we both needed.
The following morning we got a bit of a late start to hike down to Roaring Brook and pick up the last of our supplies. By the time we stopped to have lunch at Roaring Brook and hiked back up to Chimney Pond, it was approaching darkness. It was worth it, though, to be able to have more than just backpacking food while we were there.
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| Arriving at Chimney Pond |
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| Chimney Pond and Mt Katahdin |
Christmas Eve started with a trip up to Pamola Caves. Our original plan had been for Mike to teach me bit about ice climbing while we were there, but the weather took a strange turn around Christmas this year. We had temperatures in the mid-50s at Chimney Pond, and the breeze off the mountain actually felt warmer. That's unheard of at that time of year! By the time we would leave to go home, there wouldn't be much ice left that was good for climbing. The trip to Pamola Caves was fun, though. Mike gave me a few basic pointers when it came to being on the mountain in winter, and neither of us had ever been to Pamola Caves before. Honestly, I just enjoyed being outside on the mountain with Mike. It never seems to matter what exactly has gotten us out into the woods - just that we were there and there together.
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| Mike at Pamola Caves |
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| View from the trail to Pamola Caves |
Christmas Day was more of the same. Waking up to a winter morning at Chimney Pond with no one else around - I cannot really explain what it is like to someone who has never been there. Everything is quiet and peaceful. The air is crisp and clean. Maybe it's Chimney Pond, maybe it's Ranger Mike - but of all the Christmas holidays that I have spent with friends and family, none has felt more like home than this Christmas.
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| Celebrating Christmas |
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| Collecting water for the Ranger camp. |
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| Skies over Katahdin |
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| Ziggy - Chimney Pond Trail |
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