- Dear Abby
- Games & Puzzles
- Events & Exhibits
- Food & Drink
- Arts & Music
- Movies & TV
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. ...
Each step of snowshoe on crusty snow echoed through a dazzling ravine in New Hampshire’s White Mountains the other day, the only sound except for the occasional squawk of a coal-black raven circling in a cerulean sky and the huff of my breath expelling clouds of vapor in the frigid air.
Prisms from an early-morning sun danced among sharp shadows of swaying evergreen boughs as I worked my way down the steep Sprucewood Path, en route to a vast expanse of trails maintained by the Jackson Ski Touring Foundation that many consider some of the best for cross-country on the East Coast.
In past years I’ve skiied down the Yodel Trail directly from our hilltop hotel to the cross-country center in Jackson Village, but because of this week’s icy conditions I feared I would be doing a lot of unintentional yodeling on the way, and so opted for mountaineering snowshoes outfitted with crampons.
It was a rewarding decision — not just because I avoided slamming into a tree or sailing off a ledge, but because I enjoyed a short stretch of solitude in the mountains.
Don’t get me wrong — I always enjoy the company of friends and family on outdoor adventures, but every so often appreciate lone excursions, when solitude can heighten sensory experiences.
A few years ago I spent a week, mostly alone, as a winter caretaker at a remote, mile-high hut north of Mount Washington, and while it was lonely and intimidating at times I felt more intimately connected to my surroundings, more acutely aware of nature’s raw powers.
During that caretaking experience I hiked alone toward the frozen summit of Mount Adams at sunset just as a parhelion, or sun dog, materialized in the heavens, a halo-like glow caused by sunlight filtering through ice crystals in the air. Part of me wished other people had been nearby to share the magical experience, but another part was elated to have had the meteorological phenomenon all to myself.
Nothing on my brief sojourn along the narrow, twisting Sprucewood Path the other day came close to the euphoria of a sun dog, but I did experience a simple sense of serenity.
Soon I reached the bottom of the hill in Jackson and crossed onto the wide, well-groomed trails. There I met my family and switched to cross-country skis. As we glided along the Ellis River Trail crowds of other skiers swept past.
Happy faces, cheerful greetings, laughter. It’s all good.
This week’s cold snap has spread a shimmering, silken coating over ponds and lakes throughout the region, creating some of the best conditions for skating in years, so you must get out now and enjoy it because who knows...
First of all, it’s way too soon to start whining about the cold. Let’s all agree that by March, if we’re still getting hammered by ferocious winds, driving snow and frigid temps, then a little complaining might be in...
The problem with New Year’s resolutions is that people, even — make that especially — hard-core adventurers/endurance athletes tend to set the bar way too high: bike across the country, qualify for the Hawaii...
When those uninitiated in the longstanding New Year’s Day tradition of running from Mystic to Fishers Island Sound and leaping into the icy water ask, "How can you stand it? Doesn’t it hurt?" we stoic veterans...
While kayaking the 341-mile Erie Canal from Buffalo to Albany a few years ago I spotted another paddler a mile or so away headed in my direction. Having encountered only one or two other kayaks nearly a week into what turned out to be an...
Isn’t life great?! Gas is so cheap now I can get rid of my puny, poky, fuel-efficient econobox and get behind the wheel of an auto with plenty of ponies under the hood that any American would be proud to drive, just like the good...
After my overwhelming victory last year in a rake vs. leafblower contest I hoped I’d heard the last of those infernal, noisy, polluting contraptions — but while out for a run the other day, savoring the fall foliage, a familiar whine as...