One Great Dewdrop

Cuba, Part 2

2019-03-21T07:30:00.000-04:00

Enough of the details about licenses and currency (Part 1 of Cuba) - let's get to the adventure part. ;)

Day 1: NY to Habana

The flight is a flight. We arrive mid-afternoon and do the customs/ currency/ taxi to city stuff. Get checked into our casa particular. Boring stuff.

1st casa in havana had a sitting room, so when KK would sleep Dave and I could hang out - too bad KK didn't sleep

We're staying in Centro Habana, which is much poorer and dilapidated than I expected. Our street has piles of trash, stagnant water, skeletal dogs, ruins of buildings. There are few cars on the street, so people just walk in the middle of the road.

centro streetscape

Day 2: Habana Vieja

We spend most of the day in Habana Vieja, which is better restored and maintained than Centro. A cruise ship docks, and then it feels like Disneyland. Glad we're staying in Centro.

restored architecture

Low point of the day was food. We're starving by mid-day, but most of the options are the tourist traps, which just aren't our speed (and are probably government owned). Ended up at a cafe that had literally 2 choices: hamburger or ham sandwich. The hamburger was DISGUSTING.

On the bright side, KK discovers coconut ice milk and I discover ropa vieja (for dinner).

that's ok mom i'll just eat ice cream

Day 2: More Habana

Today got easier - my Spanish is coming back, we trolled the guidebooks and dropped a bunch of pins on Maps.Me to mark paladar/restaurant options, and it doesn't feel as stiflingly hot.

old buildings off the Malecon, the famous sea-side drive

Spend the morning playing in a little playground. I talk with the attendant for a long while about this and that, while KK plays with a little boy who was there with his grandparents because his mom was home with the new baby. (Some things are the same everywhere.)

wheee!

After dinner, Dave brings some frisbees to a local park and starts throwing with the young'uns. When it was time to leave, though, one of the older guys seems upset that there wasn't a frisbee for each of the group, saying that it would be unfair to give it to only one. Kind of an interesting and unexpected response.

universal language of frisbee

Day 3: Habana to Viñales

Hire a car and drive 2.5 hours to Viñales, a small town west of Havana, the center of outdoor activities in Cuba (as much as there is one).

random rural home

Get checked into our casa.

1st casa in vinales, where we stayed the longest

Pick a restaurant because it advertised 2 CUC mojitos. ;) We chat with the friendly restaurant host, Yande. He mentions he has a second job and Dave has to ask what it is before Yande says he's a hiking guide, and even then he doesn't offer to guide us. (Overall, the lack of hustlers (jinteros) in Viñales is striking.)

KK plays at the front of the restaurant with a random passerby who stops to talk to Yande. Soon she's handing out stickers and rolling a tennis ball back and forth while Dave and I enjoy our meal in peace.

don't ask how dirty she got...

Cuba is the most child-friendly country I've visited. Everywhere we went, Cubans were welcome and accommodating to children. There isn't a ton of kid-specific infrastructure in Cuba - they're considered people like any other person and do whatever the adults were doing. And it seems like all adults look out for the little ones. One time, KK tripped and fell, and some random middle-aged Cuban farmer got to her before I did. Musicians would hand her maracas and encourage her to play and dance while Dave and I sat nearby.

Day 4: Climbing!

Viñales has the best climbing in the Carribean, maybe the best in Latin America (right up there with Potrero Chico). We're climbing with a kid, and we're on vacation and have only shoes, buuuttt...

...we have a great time. Our guide, Fidel, picked a crag that was flat and shady at the base, so KK could play while Dave and I climbed. Incredibly, Fidel had a child-sized harness, so KK had her first roped climb on rock!

will climb for Clif Bars

Climbing is legal in Cuba, if you have a government guide, and there are no government guides. It's theoretically possible to import gear, if you go through the proper government channels, which don't actually exist.

Thus, in practice, the development and preservation of these incredible climbing areas rely on the dedication of local Cuban climbers on the ground and whatever donations they receive from abroad. In advance, we researched the best way to donate gear to make sure it goes to climbers and doesn't get used as farm equipment and packed a bag of gear collected from our Ithaca climbing community.

sharing is caring

Day 5: Cueva de la Vaca

Our casa hosts in Viñales are Marisol and Juan, a late middle-aged couple, and their daughter Yudi, who is about our age. Marisol is extremely talkative and friendly - too bad I can only understand every other word, and Dave understands her every 5th word! She always spends some time talking with/at us in her beautiful patio after breakfast, yelling for me to translate when Dave gets lost.

the 1st casa in vinales had a BEAUTIFUL patio/garden, with banana and coffee trees, tropical flowers, etc

After a lazy morning, we walk up to Cueva de la Vaca, an easily explored cave outside town.

cow cave. you walk by a lot of cows to get there.

Day 6: Beach! Cayo Jutías

Marisol hires a driver to take us to Cayo Jutías, a beach on the northern coast of Cuba. Eloha has a baby son, 8 months, but we don't talk much more than that - it's a rough trip. The car is a seatbelt-less Lada about my age that sounds like a lawnmower. Doesn't matter that the Lada doesn't go fast; the roads are SO BAD in places that we crawl along at lawnmower speed. Back windows don't roll down without the wrench Eloha keeps in the glove box, so we asphyxiate on fumes for the first part of the drive.

wheeee!

At one point, we pick up a hitchhiking police officer. Because why not?

...oh, ok.

The beach wasn't the most incredible beach I've visited, and it got really crowded as the minibuses and hired cars arrived, but coming from Upstate NY in March... it was heaven.

ahhhhhhh

Day 7: Cueva Larga

We meet up with a random climber who found us, looking for partners, while we were climbing with Fidel. We go to Cueva Larga, not really a cave as the top is open, more like a narrow chasm in the incredible cliffs all around Viñales.

cueva larga

I stay on kid duty most of the day, sneaking in 1 climb and otherwise pointing out all of amazing things in the cave, like snail shells and lizards.

hi :)

The climbing is just so. good. here. I would definitely come back (after I visit all the other places on my bucket list, of course).

Day 8 - Los Acuáticos

Originally, we weren't sure if we would stay in Viñales so long, or perhaps move on to Trinidad, so we only booked 3 nights at Marisol's. She had vacancy 2 more nights, but for our last night in Viñales, we needed to move to her next door neighbor's house.

2nd casa in vinales

Our Cuban acquaintance, Yande, from the restaurant on our first night in Viñales guides us up to Los Acuáticos, an old colony built around hot springs. It's a super easy walk, we definitely don't need a guide, but it's nice to chat with a local who's our age (and had a daughter a few years older than KK).

checking out a very cool "undiscovered" (i.e. not in the guidebooks) cave

Unfortunately, on the way up, I got stung by wasps. Kind of scary - it took 3 Benadryl to keep the swelling under control, and even then, my mouth/nose broke out in hives. Might be time to get an Epipen...

serious ouch

Yande felt so bad about the sting, but it didn't spoil the day. Just made it a little sleepy and loopy (yay Benadryl!).

views of the mogotes - hills that look like they were formed by a preschooler with playdoh

Day 9: Viñales to Habana

It takes a while to convince Marisol that yes, we do want a vehicle with seat belts to drive us to Habana, even if that means getting a nicer car and getting it all to ourselves. It's true that it's astronomically expensive for a Cuban, but, having already made the journey once, I know that the highway is straight and empty, and the driver will go as fast as the vehicle will allow.

We say good bye to Marisol, Yudi, and Juan and Viñales in general. I hope I'll be back, someday.

adios to our host family

Uneventful drive to Havana deposits us at a casa in an old colonial house with a gorgeous interior courtyard and enormous room.

last night in havana (sounds like a movie title)

After dinner, on a whim, I ask Dave if we can walk past the synagogue (actually, "a" synagogue - there are 3 in Havana). I had read a little bit about the Jews of Cuba and was interested to see for myself. Turns out, it's the first night of Purim! Which I admit I forgot - I knew Purim was happening while we were away, but by the last night of the trip, I had completely lost track of the days.

So that's how we ended up in an Orthodox shul drinking clear rum straight from plastic cups while watching kids scamper after the spilled contents of a piñata.

because rum hangovers on travel days are GREAT

Day 10: Habana to NY

It was a travel day. Meh. No problems coming back through customs, except the aforementioned boot washing. Hey, we'll do our part to protect American agriculture!

entering Florida

We've been back a month; I've been working on these trip reports in 10 minute increments in the wee early hours of the morning, before the family gets up. So if the story seems dry and disjointed, well, at least it got written! My future self will appreciate it.

Saved the best for last - here's the photo album.

Cuba, Part 1

2019-03-21T07:00:00.000-04:00

"Oh shoot. KK's preschool is closed for spring break 3 weeks from now. We should go somewhere..."

So we did: Cuba (because, why not?) (and also because we just couldn't get excited about waterfalls in Tennessee) (and also because, as Americans, Cuba has an irresistible appeal - so close, yet so far).

Buckle up (wait, you can't, there are no seatbelts in this '72 Lada) and grab a mojito (or go native and just drink the rum neat), 'cause this trip report is as long as the queue in a Cuban supermarket.

Part 1 of this trip report will dive deeper into the way things are in Cuba; part 2 is about where we went, what we did, and how it was for us. Read part 2 after part 1; it'll make more sense.

So here's how to get to Cuba and back, in 10 easy steps. 'Cause who doesn't like a good listicle.

Step 1: Buy Plane Tickets

Let's get one thing straight right off the bat: yes, it's legal to go to Cuba. Americans self-declare 1 of 12 categories of General Licenses. Like most visitors, ours was "Support for the Cuban People," which meant we had to keep up a full-time schedule of activities to provide economic support and connection directly to Cuban individuals. The trick is: staying at a casa particular, eating in a private paladar, or hiring an individual guide all count as supportive activities... not very different from how we usually travel!

A few carriers now offer direct flights to Cuba. No more flying to Mexico and then purchasing tickets to Cuba! Simply go to JetBlue's website, click the "Support for the Cuban People" radio button, enter your credit card information, and BOOM you've got tickets.

Step 2: Buy Health Insurance (Or Not)

If you're researching your own Cuba trip, you'll read about Cuba's health insurance requirement. This is to prevent visitors for taking advantage of Cuba's' communist (read: free) health care system. Every commercial flight ticket from the USA to Cuba includes a basic health insurance policy, but you can upgrade to a policy that covers injuries from adventure sports, or purchase supplemental non-USA-based insurance for higher repatriation coverage. After weighing the pros and cons, we stuck with the basic coverage. It was fine.

Step 3: Acquire Currency

Usually we'd bring a debit card and use ATMs. Because we have USA-based banks, our credit and debit cards don't work and will get locked if we try to swipe them. Changing dollars to Cuban pesos incurs an additional 10% penalty, so before we left, we ordered a fat stack of Euros.

Step 4: Pack Carefully

This was our first trip to a less developed country with a young child. Cuba has an outstanding medical system, BUT, no mother wants to take her kid to the hospital in the middle of the night because kiddo is spiking a fever and you forgot to pack the Tylenol (and pharmacy shelves are bare). In Cuba, toiletries like sunscreen can be incredibly hard to find and expensive ($20/bottle) once you do. And I definitely did not want to contract Zika, which meant serious mosquito protection.

So: take everything you might need, but no more. We each had a carry-on sized bag for our clothes and personal items (YASSS WE ARE SO CLOSE TO TRAVELING CARRY-ON ONLY), but we checked a duffle of gear (hiking backpack, large bottles of sunscreen and insect repellent, etc.).

Step 5: Book (Some) Accommodation

Technically optional, but it makes the arrival process easier. Cubans have been doing AirBnB (renting out at room or two of their house) before AirBnB was a thing. These rooms in these casas particulares are usually pretty basic: typically two beds, cinderblock walls, an ensuite bathroom (with or without toilet seat), fan or AC - perfect for us!

the standard sign outside every casa - blue anchor rents to foreigners, red anchor to Cubans

As we often do, we booked accommodation for the first part of the trip and left the last 1/3 open-ended. We ended up staying in Vinales, the 2nd town we visited, for the remainder of the trip, where it was very easy to find accommodation because we were there.

But that left our last night before flying home without a place to stay in Havana...

Step 6: Put Your Phone on Airplane Mode

Five years ago, we would have asked our casa hosts to help us find something and been stuck with whatever their cousin/friend had to offer. But now, Cuba has... the internet! Sort of. Cuba has had (government run) internet cafes since 2013 and (government run) public wifi hotspots since 2017. So just like in the USA, you'll see groups of young people staring at their screens in public places.

millenials on phones in parque cervantes in habana

Some homes and businesses are starting to get private internet connections. To book our last night of accommodation, we tried to use one at a cafe in Vinales that advertised Wifi. (AirBnB doesn't work in Cuba, but Booking.com does.) Let's just say that we had eaten and paid for our meals before we were even able to connect, much less find and book a place.

Internet at a public hotspot costs 5 CUC for 5 hours (1CUC = $1USD), so about $1/hour, more if you buy a wifi card from a hustler (jintero) instead of queuing up to buy one yourself.

Step 7: Dust off Your Economics & History Textbooks

Casas particulares cost between 15-25 CUC/ $15-25 per night. In a country where 80% of citizens work for the state, the average government wage is somewhere around the equivalent of $30/month, and the license to run a casa particular is only about $70/ month, the incentive to open a side hustle is obvious.

Plus, running a casa gives the owner access to the more powerful currency: CUCs. Cuba has two currencies: convertible pesos (abbreviated CUC, pronounced "kook") and the national peso (CUP, "coop"). 1 CUC = 24 CUP. CUCs can only be acquired by exchanging for foreign currency, never CUPs.

The dual-currency economy was established during the "Special Period," as the dire years after the fall of the Soviet Union are known, when Soviet sugar subsidies disappeared and the Cuban economy imploded. (Our climbing guide, who was a young child then, told us he went naked except for small shorts his mother sewed out of old tee-shirts.) Fidel Castro decided to legalize the American dollar to get more money into the economy - possession of dollars was previously punishable with prison - and the CUC was born.

a decaying building in centro habana. a building elsewhere in habana collapsed 2 days after we arrived, killing 1 person.
is this what communism looks like? or is this what a 70 year embargo from the world's largest economy looks like?

However, these dual economies have exacerbated the divide between haves and have nots. I have to imagine this undermines the communist paradigm. Our casa hostess in Havana previously worked as a nurse, where she earned about 400 CUP/month ($16). Now she charges $28/night (CUP 686) for her casa. The choice is obvious.

la epoca, supermarket in centro habana: one type of each item and lots of empty shelf space

Step 8: Eat Rice, Beans, & Sandwiches

Casa owners can earn a little more by serving meals. Breakfast was 5 CUC/adult, and dinner is 10 CUC/adult. Breakfast usually includes coffee, tea, juice, eggs (maybe with ham or onions), bread and butter, maybe a crepe with guyabana jelly or small sandwich.

breakfast in the garden

Dinner was a choice of meat (chicken seems to be the most plentiful and common), one of more kinds of beans, one or more kinds of rice, a salad of cabbage, tomatoes, and cucumbers, some kind of fried plantain or malanga, with soft drinks and alcohol available for an extra cost.

my face looks funny because i had an unfortunate wasp sting... more on that in part 2

The hosts set up a nice table, serve the meal, and then usually putter nearby in case you need anything. They return at the end of the meal to clean up and chat, or attempt to chat (see Step 8: Speak Spanish below).

Cuban food is kind of bland, definitely not spicy - during the Special Period, spices were hard to come by. For Cubans, the diet is heavy on rice and beans, "purchased" with ration coupons. I imagine our hosts had to put in some decent time and effort to acquire the ingredients that go into our meals.

Street food in Cuba is heavily influenced by its behemoth neighbor to the north: lots of unfortunate, soggy "pizzas" (a circle of soft bread with a smear of ketchup-like substance and a sprinkle of cheese) and sandwiches (ham, cheese, or ham and cheese - tastier than the street pizza, because bocaditos in Cuba spend a few minutes in a panini press).

one of the nicer sandwich shops we found, in Vinales

The same 90s economy that created the CUC also created the paladar, a small restaurant run out of someone's home. Many of the paladars feel more like restaurants, and in the tourist-oriented sections of Habana and Vinales, there are more restaurants than paladars. Just like everywhere, paladar/ restaurant food ranges from barely edible to delicious.

Step 9: Speak Spanish

In my opinion, Cuban Spanish is NOT an easy dialect to pick up; it took me the entire week to begin to feel comfortable understanding it. To my ear, it's mildly hoarse and slurred; all S's are dropped and many D's as well. Imagine a hyperactive life-long chain smoker speaking with 3 cigars stuffed in their mouth and that should give you an idea.

the tobacco house where those cigars were rolled

Decent Spanish skills are a prerequisite for the way we did the trip. You can make it work if you book everything in advance, hire the occasional English-speaking guide, and pick out well-known restaurants (they're more likely to have an English-language menu), but I think you will miss a lot by being unable to interact with anyone. Dave knew more Spanish than our casa hosts knew of English, so I did a lot of translating on this trip.

this one is easy to understand, at least!

Step 10: Keep Your Mouth Shut When Re-Entering US Customs

On the way home, we did get stopped at customs. But that was our fault for being too honest: we truthfully declared that we had been on farms and around livestock. So we got a free sneaker washing! (The poor customs woman said that Dave's sneakers were nastier than mine; I wanted to tip her.)

USA-bound, flying over the coast of Florida

With the details out of the way, let's get to the fun stuff - what did we do and what was it like. Read Part 2 of Cuba.

Iberian Adventures

2018-05-03T09:00:00.000-04:00

We flew home from Barcelona on May 3rd. Today is July 22nd. Such is life with a marriage, kid, career, and community...

This year's adventure took us to Iberia: we flew into Lisbon and out of Barcelona, stopping in the regions with excellent hiking:

1) Costa Vicentina, on the southwestern coast of Portugal (we stayed in the countryside outside Odemira);
2) Andalucía, in the south of Spain (stayed in Grazalema and Lanjarón);
3) The central Pyrenees (stayed in a small village called Aragnouet, outside Saint-Lary-Soulan in France, and Rialp in España).

My trip journal tells me we hit a trail 9 of the 18 days of the trip, which is pretty darn good, considering we moved around a lot with a 2.5 year old.

Good thing I have that trip journal... I've forgotten most of the trip already (doh!!). Guess I'll need Davo and Kick-Kick to help me write this.

What was your favorite place?

KK: the water and the ocean

on the beach outside Barcelona

D: the town of Grazalema (favorite town), Aragnouet (scenery)

panorama of Grazalema

church and sunbeams in the French Pyrenees

N: Lisbon (city), Grazalema (town), French Pyrenees (countryside), Boavista Dos Pinheiros (favorite AirBnB - we had an entire 3-bedroom house in the Portuguese countryside)

Portuguese countryside

Which place did you like the least?

KK: I didn't want to be in the ocean [I think she's referring to the waves, or being in the water]

teeny tiny human on the cliff for scale

D: least favorite town was Rialp, least favorite hiking was the Sierra Nevada/ "white villages of Las Alpujarras" outside of Lanjarón

pueblos blancos de las Alpujarras

N: Rialp, I think because of the location of our AirBnB (backing up to a gas station) and the weather (rainy)

What was your favorite food on the trip?

KK: galletas! [COOKIES!]

D: olives, the meats

yum yum

N: the abundant and inexpensive produce - red peppers for days!

What was the most stressful moment of the trip?

KK: I left Polar Bear behind, I was sad and I missed Polar Bear.

it's ok, polar bear's counsin now lives with us

D: going to Andorra - dealing with the malls

N: Naomi's meltdown on the flight home. She had a terrible stomach ache, wailing in pain (of course the infant ibuprophen was in the checked luggage).

sleepy preschooler under our seats

Which was your favorite hike?

KK: animals and tigers and do like this [covers ears with hands] and I can see them being so loud. There's no dinosaurs here.

D: Puerto De Las Presillas outside of Grazalema

who wants rocks? we've got rocks

N: Lac d'Oô would have been my favorite, but it was so windy (and cold) that day. So I agree with Davo.

beautiful waterfall at the back of the lake

What would you do the same the next time we travel?

KK: I want to take a train to the airport.

D: AirBnB

N: If we're planning on moving around a lot - AirBnB. Not having to break camp every morning was fabulous, plus we had a place to hang out in the evening after Naomi went to bed. But I did miss camping.

our house in Portugal

What would you do differently?

KK: Paper. I'm gonna play with it all long day.

D: Go later in the season so we could do more hiking in the Pyrenees. And, get a babysitter so we could do the Camino del Rey.

N: Research things that are very specific to us in advance. For example, grocery stores are closed on Sundays in Spain, which messed with our plans both Sundays we were there.

Hawai'i or Bust: Adventure Travel with a Toddler

2017-04-28T23:20:00.004-04:00

Summary of our trip:

No fancy adult beverages with a little umbrellas served to me on a tropical beach.

Come on, motherhood hasn't changed me that much. ;-)

kk gets her beverage - also sans little umbrella (i should make an album of epic nursing photos...)

We've been home a month and a half, and if I don't bang out a trip report right now, it's never going to happen. And I really do enjoy looking back and reminiscing about our dumb/ sketchy/ awesome adventures.

So let's do this. Q&A style. No edits or drafts, start to finish, in one take. Ready set go!

So how was Hawai'i?

Type 2 fun, all the way.

Where did you go?

We started on The Big Island. Made a big clockwise arc around the island, going north from Kona to Spencer Beach Park, up to Pololu Valley, down to Hawaii Volcanoes National Park via Hilo, then back to Kona via the Saddle Road and Mauna Kea. We camped at Spencer Beach Park and Namakanipaio campground (outside HVNP).

toddler's first hike!

Yes, we saw lava, from a distance.

what do a toddler and lava have in common?

Next, we went to Kauai. Camped at Salt Pond Park (3 nights), the unfortunately named Camp Slogett in Waimea Canyon (2 nights), Polihale State Park (1 night), Lydgate State Park (1 night).

did you know that kauai is infested with wild chickens? ear plugs not optional.

Overall, we moved around WAY too much. Way, WAY too much. But we definitely enjoyed our rad minivan rental! Can't wait to get myself one of these sweet rides. (Shut up, Tim.)

i probably should not post this online

How were the flights?

To Hawaii: 11 hours. We had an entire row, 6 seats, to ourselves (!). I hit up the dollar store and wrapped up little trinkets in tissue paper; these provided entertainment not just for the plane ride, but for the subsequent car rides, monsoon afternoons (see below), and hours in the backpack carrier. (We are bad parents.)

To New York: 9 hour red-eye. It was rough. I survived it the same way I survived labor and delivery: white knuckles and ruthless badassity. In other words, KK slept in the front-carrier, and I didn't move a muscle for 5+ hours.

at least someone is getting rest, part 1

February must have been a great time of year - escape the Northeastern winter!

The weather was amazing by Upstate NY standards and awful by Hawaiian standards. We spent some time highish up, so it was anywhere from 60-80 during the day to 35-50 at night. Most days had at least a little rain, which was fine... until the day we were stuck in a flipping monsoon, in a tent, with our toddler.

stake down that tent, holy smokes!

Speaking of that toddler, adventure travel with a toddler is HARD (but totally doable). One of us was always on kid duty, and the other was on camp duty, so there wasn't really any rest.

dave on kid duty; i'm on stove duty. yes we cooked all our meals except for 2.

Wait, what do you mean by camp duty? You camped for 2 weeks with your toddler? WTF is wrong with you? Why didn't you stay in a resort or something?

Pitching a tent/ cooking on a Whisperlite/ bathing in the ocean;
yes;
I don't know;
they're expensive and more importantly, eww.

Um, so how was camping with a toddler?

Let me preface this by saying: previous to parenthood, we rocked a sub 4-pound ultralight single wall 2-person mini-tent. I cut off the dang handle of my toothbrush and measured the weight of my gear in grams (yes really). I did gear, in the sense that I did as little gear as possible.

The secret to camping with little kids is: embrace the Gear-with-capital-G. Our tent weighs 16 lbs (because it fits a 10-lb queen-sized air mattress, because this is how you get a toddler to sleep in a tent). It has a 6-foot peak height (because you need to stand up straight if you're rocking a baby at stupid o'clock). I am simultaneously mortified to roll into camp rocking such a beast and THRILLED that the toddler has space to play when it's monsooning.

This tent and associated 10-lb queen-sized air mattress are backcountry "mom jeans."

And lemme tell you... once you go elastic waist, you don't go back.

one of us is wearing pants with elastic waist, i'm not telling who

Ok, gimme more details. HOW do you camp with a toddler?

Sleeping

Bedshare and breastfeed at night - or the potent cocktail of sleep deprivation and frustration will make you lose your f****** mind. Oh, and everyone in camp will hate your guts because your kid is wailing all night long. Get out the boobs, snuggle up, and doze until the roosters wake everyone up (that's another story).
White noise machine. KK sleeps with one at home, and it provided an important source of continuity and routine in camp, as well as muffled the sounds of people laughing/ dogs barking/ music playing. Ours runs on batteries, which we charged in the rental minvan as needed.
Accept that you are going to get marginally acceptable sleep. But hey, if you've survived parenthood this long, you're used to that.
Also, instant coffee. Because ain't no one got time for the fancy sh!t.

at least someone is getting rest, part 2

Clothing

Just like an adult: a hat on the head is worth two layers on the body.
Also just like an adult: "cotton is rotten." Stick with fleece, nylon, polyester. (If you have a daughter, be prepared to dress her "like a boy," or as I prefer to say, "like a boss." The segmentation of "girls" and "boys" activities and associated apparel starts immediately after birth. Initiate feminist rage.)
Fleece snowsuit takes the place of a sleeping bag.

dadadadadadadaaaaaa

Feeding

Watching a camping toddler eat goldfish crackers is like watching a great white shark swim through a school of surfers. It's total carnage and you're going to be finding pieces of goldfish cracker in your sleeping bag for many years to come. Something about the fresh air stimulates the appetite. You can never ever ever have too many packs of goldfish crackers.
Clip-on high chair + combo placemat/bowl = ability to feed kid without kid wandering off or eating seagull sh!t off the picnic table.

never underestimate the power of cheddar cheese

Hygiene

Don't use cloth diapers. Just don't. Disposables. Really. I don't care how much of a dirty hippy you are, just trust me on this one.
Repeat after me: a little dirt never killed anyone, as long as you wash your hands after diaper changes and before eating. No, you are not going to give your kid a bath every night. KK got 2 baths in the 2 weeks we were out. Wipe 'em down with a washcloth and call it a night.

lost one of these sandals around Koke'e. this is why we can't have nice things.

Expectations

...

Wait, why didn't you write anything under "Expectations" above?

It deserves a section of its own, because the hardest thing about this trip was managing my/our expectations.

In our 2 weeks, we had 3 hiking days. THREE (3). Those 3 hiking days were all sub-6 mile days. This is, um, not a lot of hiking. Especially for flying nearly 1/3 of the way around the world. And no backcountry nights at all. Buh bye, Kalalau Trail.

Previous to KK, Dave and I could run ourselves pretty hard. It was NBD to pack up camp, drive a couple hours, slam out a hike, set up camp, and crash - rinse and repeat the next day.

This time, we were dealing with ANOTHER PERSON who had her own feelings, needs, and desires. (IMO, this is the key distinguishing factor between a baby, who would be as obliviously and happily drooling at the North Korean DMZ border as your kitchen table, and a toddler, who is the human equivalent of the Doomsday Clock at 11:59 p.m.).

i have opinions

On this trip, we had to limit our driving to KK's afternoon nap. When we hiked, we needed to take regular breaks so she could scoot around and stick her hands in the mud and play with our noses. We couldn't have dinner at 9:30 p.m. We had to stop for goldfish crackers, diaper changes, more goldfish crackers, another layer of sunscreen, dear heavens why more goldfish crackers.

moar goldfishhhhhhhh

We couldn't "just push through."

Not that we didn't try. It blew up in our faces: it was HARD. And then we learned our lesson, regrouped, and continued on.

My mantra since becoming a mother is: JUST GET OUT THERE. Counterintuitive as it seems, at this point in young KK's life, it actually does not matter if the trail is 6 miles or 0.6 miles. It doesn't matter if I climb 2 pitches or 20, if those pitches are 5.6 or 5.11. Doesn't matter if I'm camping in Hawaii or my backyard.

Children learn what they live. If I wait until KK is old enough/ strong enough/ communicative enough/ potty trained/ whatever to show her there is more to the world than our living room - it's too late. She's enough, just as she is right now. And to be honest, she doesn't know or care for the difference between a desolate beach at the end of the earth and our cozy living room - as long as her loving parents are there with her.

not poop, but would love her even if it were.

Each of her small experiences builds on the previous. If we want to hike 2,659 miles on the PCT as a family 8 years from now, then I need to go hike 3 miles in Danby State Forest with her tomorrow morning so she sees me pee in the woods and knows that is a normal thing that ladies do when they need to go.

So fine: we only hiked 3 days. Fine! We hiked 3 days in an incredibly beautiful and special corner of this One Great Dewdrop - and we did it as a family. Never thought I'd write those words.

hey mom :o)

Dang. That's deep.

Yeah, I would say motherhood is about as deep as it gets.

pele: goddess of fire

polihale: the end of the earth

home: is wherever i'm with you

Colorado

2016-08-17T15:50:00.000-04:00

Colorado has been on my bucket list forever. I thought it would be a great place to visit with a baby - not too far away, amazing natural beauty, same language/ culture, not insanely expensive - so when Dave had a tournament outside of Denver this summer, we jumped on the chance to have our first family "vacation."

I put "vacation" in air quotes because this experience involved living out of a van and camping with a teething, non-sleeping baby. And river baths. One of these days I'm going to get my fancy adult beverage with a little umbrella served to me on a tropical beach...

Where Did We Go?

Due to foul weather and our discovery that car naps are great, we ended up driving way more than intended. We never planned on visiting the Steamboat Springs area, but it ended up being our favorite place on the trip.

Here's our route:

What Did We Do?

The usual: camped every night (except for our tournament nights in an AirBnB), hiked many days, lived out of a sweet rented minivan. Sort of like the soccer mom life... except way dirtier, and less Pinterest.

How Was Camping With A Baby?

Ok, I'll be honest: the sleep thing was tough. We tried 6 different night time arrangements (which means at least 6 nights of crappy sleep) before we found something that was even remotely satisfying: KK on a sleeping pad on her own, KK on a sleeping pad behind a sheet, KK in a cardboard box with the sleeping pad on the bottom, KK in the box draped with a muslin blanket, KK next to Dave on her own sleeping pad, KK next to me on her own sleeping pad.

She and I eventually ended up on a queen-sized air mattress (bonus: nights were in the mid-thirties by that point, so she stayed cozy). Dave and KK got great sleep, I got borderline acceptable sleep, but we did better overall as a family.

(Then we discovered that KK's Colorado souvenirs would be her first two teeth - that explained at least a little of the crappy nighttime sleep!)

Overall, camping with a baby wasn't much more difficult than camping without a baby. KK isn't mobile yet, so when we got to camp, we'd plop her down on a sheet to play in the dirt while we set up camp. She ate what we ate, plus a few easy baby snacks, and nursed more than usual due to teething. She is very easy to entertain; she was content to tinker around with a small selection of easily packable toys, plus sticks/ stones/ leaves/ pinecones, plus a ton of attention from Mommy and Daddy.

How Was Hiking With A Baby?

Great! KK does great in her Chariot. For some reason, she never falls asleep on the way out or up, but she almost always snoozes on the way in or down.

We followed the same principles RE: altitude for a baby as for an adult: take time to acclimatize, climb high/ sleep low, descend if you feel unwell. (Babies can't tell you if they feel unwell, so I kept my eyes peeled for any behavioral changes.) We went to 12,000' with no ill effects.

Even our hike in the cold rain went great. Again, we followed the same principles for a baby as for an adult: no cotton, cover your head, layer a weatherproof layer over an insulating layer.

How Was #VanLife With A Baby?

We would have been miserable in our Toyota Matrix. The rented minivan was the way to go, especially with a GINORMOUS wet tent, and cooking all of our meals on our camp stove (= grocery box), and bringing the jogging stroller with us (= naps during the tournament).

How Was Flying With A Baby?

We brought bribery chocolates for the flyers in the rows in front, behind, and to the side of us.

Didn't need them - Little Smiles was thrilled to have 175 new best friends. She smiled at anyone who would look at her. I was so worried about her disturbing other passengers that I played with her the entire time, tiring myself out, but really she was fine.

We flew Southwest, which was awesome - we checked 4 bags, plus 2 carry-ons, 2 personal items, a stroller, and a car seat. The days of hopping on a flight with a toothbrush and my passport are over...

Do It Again?

Oh heck yeah. We're already planning our next adventure!

Before KK arrived, Dave and I realized that we'd have to start with the basics again. I would never feel comfortable taking a kid on an international trip focused on outdoor adventure if that kid had never worn a pack or hiked more than a mile. My hope is that little adventures with a baby will lead to bigger adventures with an older child.

I also want to introduce KK to the woods when she's very young to normalize the presence of girls in the backcountry. If she decides that she no longer wants to accompany Dave and I when she's older and can make her own decisions, that's just fine (really!). But if we wait to introduce her to the outdoors once she is aware that world is dominated by boys and men, the likelihood that she'll ever feel comfortable there is certainly diminished. And that would be a shame, because then she'd miss places like this:

This:

And this!

The Next Chapter (For This Blog)

2016-08-16T09:56:00.002-04:00

I'm still not sure how much I want to share publicly about my family life. On the one hand, my child deserves the right to privacy and anonymity until she's old enough to decide what to share for herself. But it's difficult (impossible?) to talk about life in early motherhood without mentioning your kid.

I wish I knew more mothers who hike, camp, climb, and travel with their babies. Real-life friends are the best (swap belays between breastfeeding, anyone?), but even stories from the virtual world could be a source of learning, solidarity, and connection.

So I'm going to share just a little. From my perspective only - not speaking for my daughter. Using one of her nicknames, "Kick-Kick" or KK, instead of her real name. Adding a watermark to any photo in which she appears, so the photo can't be re- or misappropriated.

Most importantly, remembering that I am a parent in real-time for my daughter, not for this blog, or for an online photo album, or for social media.

(Though I will always believe you can never have too many baby pictures!)

the climber's DIY baby swing: rope, trad draw, 2 biners, and a pull-up bar
(bicep pullups, not diaper pullups)
(baby not included)

How to Adjust the "Mountain Mama" Harness

2015-11-25T21:22:00.001-05:00

This pregnancy, I used a borrowed "Mountain Mama" harness by Mad Rock, a.k.a. The Strangulator. Learning how to fit it to my body required looots of trial and error.

Eventually, I figured out that I need two adjustment settings: one for belaying and one for climbing.

Hopefully this beta will help some other pregnant climber out there. :o)

Belaying
To belay comfortably, loosen the strap directly above your hip so the tie-in point is high and looser at your breastbone, with the red belay loops close together. Also, don't belay (toprope) climbers that are significantly larger than you are, as this adjustment transfers more pressure to your mid-back, instead of around your legs.

This is the intuitive way to adjust the harness, but it compresses your rib cage and prevents you from raising your legs. Result: if climbing, you can't breathe while weighting the harness, and you can't keep your face/ belly off the rock while being lowered.

belaying adjustment

Climbing
To climb comfortably, cinch the straps directly above your hips down as far as reasonable. This separates the tie-in points and pulls them low across your belly, but it also transfers more weight to the straps around your legs and lower back. If I rest or fall, the tie-in point rises to the level of my sternum and doesn't crush the bump.

climbing adjustment

Around 36 weeks, the harness just got too uncomfortable, and I stopped toproping entirely and switched over to gentle bouldering traverses.

Nova Scotia

2015-07-05T20:03:00.000-04:00

While Dave was preparing to leave for a 2.5 week mountaineering trip in the Cascades, I decided that he wasn't allowed to have all of the fun - I would have a little adventure of my own.

Destination? Halifax, Nova Scotia.

Why? Cheapest flight out of Ithaca to somewhere interesting.

The general plan? Rent a car, drive somewhere interesting, hike along the way, camp. No specific itinerary or route, and therefore no reservations.

Of course, I couldn't make it too easy: no smartphone or GPS for this trip. I used maps printed on dead trees, questions to friendly passersby, and a healthy dose of serendipity to navigate and plan my next move. How quaint, eh?

Here are the highlights...

From Halifax, I drove along the southern coast. This part of the island felt abandoned and overlooked. I camped at Sheet Harbor and enjoyed the solitude.

grounded

Next was Cape Breton Island, and specifically the Cabot Trail, a scenic drive at the northern tip of the island. I'd read that the hiking was great and the scenery was superb... but I thought the hiking was over-rated and the scenery was "just nice."

My favorite location was this little fishing harbor on the western coast that wasn't mentioned anywhere in the tourist brochures: Pleasant Bay. The easterly winds were so fierce that they were blowing the waves away from shore!

no waves here

I spent less time than I expected on Cape Breton Island and ended up in Pictou, the terminus of the Prince Edward Island ferry. PEI was never part of the plan, but the ferry was right there, and free going over to PEI. How could I resist?

Prince Edward Island was beautiful: agricultural, quaint, rural, colorful. I spent only one day, driving across the southern part of the island, stopping to see whatever caught my fancy. A highlight of the trip, and completely unplanned!

point prim

life-changing clam chowder - now i understand!

growing potatoes

From PEI, I checked out Cape Chignecto and its hiking trails at the tip of the Bay of Fundy, home of the world's highest tides. Once again, the hiking at Cape Chignecto was over-rated, and I stayed for much less time than I had expected. (Side note: Cape Chignecto has a 3-4 day coastal backpacking loop that looks very exciting and beautiful, but already my pack's hipbelt is uncomfortable, so that wasn't an option for me on this trip.)

Instead, I continued on to Five Islands and camped at the provincial park there, high on a bluff overlooking the Minas Basin.

not even low tide. crazy.

I looped around the Bay of Fundy and ended up at another favorite place, Delaps Cove. The camp steward recommended a silly little walk in the equivalent of a county park here in the States, and for whatever reason, it captured my fancy. I think this highlights the value of wandering, being open to suggestions, and having no fear of adjusting your plan on the fly.

uh, where's the water?

I also enjoyed a cone of "Privateer's Bounty," vanilla ice cream with salted toffee and black licorice jelly. That probably didn't hurt my opinion of the area. :o)

I passed by Kejimkujik National Park and did a few more hikes. This park is best enjoyed by canoeing or kayaking, but the parts I saw on foot reminded me of the Adirondacks.

"keji"

Along the southern shore, west of Halifax, I ran into Tourism Central. The historical town of Lunenburg and the photogenic lighthouse of Peggy's Cove are mentioned in every tourist brochure, and while they are lovely, I passed by many more beautiful villages and lighthouses that were not swarming with people.

peggy's cove from afar - those black dots are people

Also, I can't believe I have written this much with only one photo of a lighthouse. Seriously, the Nova Scotia coastline is covered with lighthouses. Here, have another:

ridiculously cute, no?

This was my last solo trip for many years (the thumping in my lower abdomen makes it hard to forget), and that made it very special. I intended a mostly hiking trip, and because the hikes were short, easy, and somewhat boring, it turned into a mostly road trip. I'm happy I didn't have a plan and was able to discover places for myself.

46er!!! ...And the Next Adventure

2015-05-29T13:39:00.000-04:00

On Saturday, May 23, 2015, I hiked to the top of Nippletop and became an (unofficial) 46er.

However, this trip report begins at 11:00 a.m. on Monday, December 29, 2008. Bear with me: I have a story to tell. It's a tale of adventure, struggle, character - and yes, it's also an old fashioned love story.

So here I am, the baby face of 6.5 years ago: I'm standing in lightly drifting snow, figuring out how to put on my snowshoes, fresh out of their eBay box. I've got my Columbia jacket I've had since college, with its thin fleece lining and non-water-resistant shell, and a pair of my mother's old wool mittens from Sears. The cap is already partially frozen onto my waterbottle. I am drastically under-prepared and dramatically over-excited, because it's Day 1, Mile 1 of my second winter hike ever, and my first High Peak experience.

I'm hiking with two friends and the guy I started dating seriously just a month before. The trail goes straight up, and it takes us 3 hours to go 2 miles because we stop every 1/2 mile. It bitterly cold on the summit, and savage winds make mincemeat of my sad jacket. But just like that, I've hiked my first High Peak.

Cascade Mountain, 12/29/2008

Then my boyfriend reminds me that we're not turning around just yet - there's a second summit "over there." I realize that anyone who hikes 46 of these beasts must be certifiably insane, plus possess powers of stamina, balance, fortitude, and power that I would never have. I was frozen to my core, my knees ached, and the roar of the wind took my breath and left me fearful - and exhilarated. I was so small on that mountain, yes, but I also was something that mattered, someone who could remain standing while the wind roared.

Why did I return to those mountains? Stubbornness? Curiosity? Something to prove? Adrenaline rush? Fear of missing out? A budding love of the wilderness? I don't know, because my first experience was kind of miserable.

But I did return.

Sometimes with friends...

Rocky Peak Ridge, 2/23/2012

Sometimes alone...

Phelps Mountain, 3/3/2013

But usually with that boyfriend. That boyfriend, who took me up the Trap Dike, over Colden, then up the back side of Algonquin to traverse the MacIntyre Range on my first ever backpacking trip. (Let's just say that he was trying to kill me, and if I survived, I'd make a decent girlfriend.)

Algonquin, 8/16/2009

Some of his "adventures" were my misadventures, and especially in the early days, I didn't always love him when we were in the mountains. But as the miles passed under our feet, we learned to work as a team. My developing backcountry skills gave me confidence to voice my opinions and needs. He learned to give appropriate feedback and recognition. And eventually, there were no more misadventures.

We hitched our lives together on the summit of Mt. Marcy, highest point in New York State: a fitting place for our love, born in the wild.

Mt. Marcy, 6/15/2013

Without noticing, I had hiked 28 of the High Peaks and had become one of those certifiably insane hikers who can start a one match fire and who carries a toothbrush without a handle (saves 15 grams!). 28 down, 18 to go - and then I thought I might finish, because what the heck: I, and he, and we were having fun.

Finally: the morning of Saturday, May 23, 2015. Today I finish my 46. I'm hiking with some friends, and of course, my husband. As we gain altitude, I start to see the back side of the Great Range, Haystack there, Colvin and Blake in front - memories from so many miles of trail, each peak an old friend now. Speaking of old friends, those hiking partners from my first High Peak trip are married, with a baby son, and live across the street. It's a bluebird day - reminds me of my wedding day - in fact, there's Marcy.

After 6 years, 4 months, and 25 days, 275 miles, 117,000 feet of elevation gain, 18 distinct trips spanning 27 calendar days, 3 pairs of hiking boots, 50 pounds of trail mix, and an infinite number of black fly bites, I summited at 12:45 p.m.

After 46 of these, there isn't much to say. It was a lovely day, and this adventure was complete.

Of course, the completion of one adventure always marks the start of the next one...

P.S. Completing the 46 on Nippletop was a total coincidence - but it does make me chuckle.

And Then There Were 43

2014-10-12T18:16:00.000-04:00

Colvin & Blake. 14.8 miles. 4,310' elevation gain. 8 hours 54 minutes hours car-to-car.

colvin

blake

great range

autumn awesome

Marshall. 14 miles. 2,575' elevation gain. EXACTLY 8 hours car-to-car.

mmmmarshall

marshall panorama

prettiest trail in the ADK

And now.

Allen.
Nippletop.
Sawteeth.

Which would you do last?

Fast and Light: The Santanoni Range

2014-09-20T19:47:00.000-04:00

Our typical strategy for hiking ADK mountains is to pack in, establish a base camp, hike some mountains, and pack out. The upside to this approach is that I get to sleep in the woods. The downside to this approach is that sleeping in the woods = larger pack = harder, longer duration hike. It's like big wall climbing - as soon as you haul, everything gets harder!

We decided on a different approach for the Santanoni Range: fast and light. We'd hike the ~15.5 miles with ~4,900 feet of elevation gain over 3 trail-less summits in one day. It worked fantastically well, and I think I'm going to push for this approach more in the future.

6:12 a.m.: We hit the trail, headlamps blazing. First ones to sign the register today. Ate homemade breakfast bars while we hiked.

7:11 a.m.: Dangerous bridge. Someone needs to start a hipster band with that name.

7:53 a.m.: Dave sees the fork in the trail and tries to eat it. (TRAIL BETA: this is the start of the Santanoni Express.)

8:16 a.m.: Yes, the start of the Panther Brook trail does cross right over the top of a beaver dam. (TRAIL BETA: As you're hiking along the blue trail, there are two trail bypasses. Take the first one. Don't take the second one - bear left on the old trail instead of right on the newer trail. Look closely for the path across the swamp.)

8:17 a.m.: I am not expecting views today.

9:49 a.m.: Times square trail junction.

10:54 a.m.: Couchsachraga! That wasn't as bad as I expected.

12:12 p.m.: Back to Times Square. Turn left for Panther.

12:28 p.m.: Panther Peak. RAWR!

12:29 p.m.: We are pretty darn muddy. Yeesh.

1:38 p.m.: We zing across the ridgeline to Santanoni. Really cruising now.

1:45 p.m.: Down the Santanoni Express.

2:00 p.m.: I know we cross Santanoni Brook right before the Express joins the blue trail. I hear rushing water a knee-crunching, soul-destroying hour before reaching the blue trail. Fake out!

2:38 p.m.: I engage in an extended verbal dialog with the trail in an effort to get it to end. I offer it food in exchange for ending. I also threaten to pee on it if it doesn't end.

3:03 p.m.: The trail ends when I threaten to have Dave fart on it. Works every time. We're back at the blue trail.

3:04 p.m.: We realize we have a shot at completing the hike sub-10 hours. Now we're really cruising!

3:41 p.m.: We are not tired enough, so we trail-run the last 1.8 miles along the jeep road.

4:03 p.m.: Laughing and gasping for air, we tear into the parking lot 9 hours and 51 minutes after we left. Excellent marriage advice: marry someone of equal crazy.

4:04 p.m.: We notice the guy who signed in right after us, and who passed us about 5 minutes down the trail, finished in 7 hours and 10 minutes. Mike from Clifton Park, you are a beast!

P.S. 40 down, only 6 to go!

A Gardener, Not a Chef

2014-09-18T20:27:00.001-04:00

The trick with fermentation is to remember that you are a gardener, not a chef. A chef can control ingredients, preparation techniques, the heat of the pan, the length of cooking, the presentation of the meal. The gardener creates a set of conditions and waits to see what happens.

And sometimes this happens:

That's a "bloom." The conditions weren't quite right to make any mold/ fungal spores die off on their own. Garden failed this time. This is only the second "off" batch of anything I've made, and it's a good lesson to share.

Some people say that you can scrape off the top layer and eat the rest. I don't recommend doing that, because the filaments of the fungus can sink pretty deep. Yick. The cabbage will go in our compost heap, which eventually feeds our garden. The rest of the equipment will get washed in very hot soapy water before storage, and again before the next use.

What caused the bloom? I think there was too much "headspace," or too much distance between the cabbage and the top of the jar. More oxygen to be displaced by carbon dioxide means a longer period of time before anaerobic conditions are established. And anaerobic conditions are the key to tasty, consistent results. More on the science of lacto-fermentation next time!

How to Make Real, Traditional Sauerkraut at Home

2014-09-08T21:00:00.000-04:00

This post is for my Mums, who said she is interested in making sauerkraut. We make it all the time with consistently awesome results: salty, tangy, crunchy, tasty "cooked" cabbage that tingles your tongue and makes your tummy smile. Here's how.

This entire process can be summarized as follows:
1) Shred cabbage.
2) Add salt, vigorously.
3) Let it sit.

Any time this starts to feel complicated, refer to the simple process above. Everything else is just detail. Yes, there are a lot of pictures and words in this post, but hey, it's my blog and I'll write if I want to!

Every German hausfrau (housewife) making sauerkraut and every Korean uhmoni (mother) making kimchi will have their own recipe. This is how I do it, but don't be afraid to experiment to find what works in your kitchen. Fermenting food is like gardening. In our gardens, we create the conditions so veggies and flowers thrive, while weeds languish. In our kitchens, we create the conditions for certain bacteria to thrive in our food. The microbes do the cooking, not us.

Let's get started!

Ingredients

Roughly 4 lbs of cabbage
Roughly 2.5 tablespoons of salt

I use green cabbage, but a Korean uhmoni will use Chinese cabbage. They're both fine. I've heard that red cabbage makes amazing kraut, too.

I use pickling salt, which is not iodized and does not have anti-caking agents. Regular ol' table salt works fine - no need to buy 5 lbs of canning salt.

Equipment

A large bowl
Cutting board
Large knife
1 half-gallon mason jar
1 DIY airlock

The German hausfrau uses a very large mandolin in place of the knife and cutting board. Sometimes I'll use a food processor if I'm feeling lazy. More on that, plus the DIY airlock, later.

Optional, recommended:

Kitchen scale
1 canning funnel
1 cleaning rag and white vinegar

Step 1: Clean Up

Clean up to reduce the number of bacteria that might contaminate your food or compete with the microbes you're cultivating. But not too clean - no antibaterial handwash, no chemicals on the countertops.

Wash your hands.

Wipe down your counters with a vinegar/water spray.

Good enough.

Step 2: Weigh Your Cabbage & Calculate Your Salt

Remove the outer leaves.

Chop into quarters and remove the core. Weigh each quarter, noting the total weight.

No kitchen scale? No problem. Weigh your cabbage at the grocery store. Write down the number. Reduce the salt in your recipe slightly, to account for the fact that you'll discard the core. Done!

I recommend using ~4 lbs of cabbage, as that amount fits perfectly in a half gallon mason jar.

Step 3: Shred, Baby, Shred

Shred your cabbage.

I think slicing the quarters very very finely with a sharp knife makes sauerkraut with the best texture - nice n' crunchy.

But sometimes you get lazy and just want to finish with the food processor. Use the most coarse shredding attachment.

I like doing half-and-half. The sliced cabbage makes a great texture, and the processed cabbage makes a ton of brine. I wouldn't do it all in the food processor, due to texture concerns.

You could also use a mandolin, or if you can find that German hausfrau, ask to borrow her kraut board.

In the end, you'll have this:

Step 4: Salt It

Figure out how much salt you'll need based on the magical ratio of 3 tablespoons of salt for every 5 pounds of cabbage, cores removed. Use algebra or this handy dandy chart:

1 lb cabbage = 1/2 tablespoon plus 1/3 teaspoon salt
2 lb cabbage = 1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon salt
3 lb cabbage = 1 tablespoon plus 2.5 teaspoon salt
4 lb cabbage = 2.5 tablespoon salt
5 lb cabbage = 3 tablespoon salt

Don't go too crazy with exact measurements. This is art, not science.

Sprinkle the salt over the shredded cabbage.

Step 5: Punch It

Mix the salt into the cabbage, thoroughly. While you're at it, punch down the cabbage, breaking and bruising it. This releases more brine, improving the fermentation conditions, and improves texture.

As you mix and punch, your cabbage will get limp and juicy as the plant cell walls break down and the salt draws out brine. Your cabbage now looks like this:

Step 6: Pack It

Use your optional canning funnel to pack the half gallon mason jar full of delicious salty cabbage.

After every few scoops, press down on the cabbage firmly, compressing it into the bottom of the jar, below the level of the brine. Press down again and again as you pack the jar.

In the end, you should have lots of cabbage packed into the bottom of the jar, with a nice layer of salty brine floating above it.

Take your vinegar rag and wipe down the rim, neck, and outside of the jar.

Add water to the fermentation airlock, about an inch on either side of the bottom of "U" shaped trap. Screw on the airlock using a wide-mouthed canning band.

This airlock is a used wide-mouth mason jar lid, a piece of coat hanger, a small rubber stopper with a hole in it, and a short section of food-grade tubing.

Drill a hole with a large drill bit in the mason jar lid.
Stuff in the rubber stopper, then stuff the tube into the stopper.
Twist the tube in a loop and secure with wire.
Add water to half the height of the loop.

Easy DIY airlock: gas can escape the jar without letting oxygen in.

Step 7: Wait

Put the mason jar in a corner where it will sit at room temperature, undisturbed, for about a week. Thereafter, you can keep it on the counter at room temperature (faster and easier) or continue its ferment in a cooler place, like a root cellar or the door of your fridge (slower and more traditional).

And here is where the magic begins! The fermentation process produces carbon dioxide, which pushes up the column of water in the airlock until bloop a little bubble of carbon dioxide escapes. If you don't see some blooping by day 2, your airlock probably has a leak - fix it ASAP. The blooping peaks around day 3-4, depending on temperature, and may continue as long as day 7. By the end of the first week, your kraut will have morphed from bright green to straw yellow.

Let your kraut sit for 3 weeks. DON'T open the airlock during that time! If you do, you will destroy the oxygen-free (anaerobic) environment you painstakingly created with your airlock and will encourage the growth of the not good bacteria and molds.

Many people like to ferment their kraut at least 10-12 weeks. When Dave worked on the farm, we had some ferments go even longer, and they were delicious. Now, I usually go about 3 weeks, because the kraut looks so darn tasty sitting on my counter.

At the end of the fermentation, screw on a regular mason jar lid and store the jar in the fridge.

---

I'm going to take pictures of the jar as it ferments. Exciting! Stay tuned for Part II: How and Why This Works (With Pictures!).

Months of Plenty

2014-09-06T13:01:00.000-04:00

There was plenty of summer left after we returned home!

Set up garden beds, built deer & rabbit fencing, mulched and composted, built ADK bridges over the inlet and outlet streams, and a zillion other little things:

Did some work inside the house, too:

But there was still plenty of time for wildflowers and hammocks, climbing trees and weeknight campfires:

Birthday parties and goat roasts:

Went back to work, fully embracing the fact that I really, truly, absolutely am not an indoor cat:

And to top it all off, a sport climbing "herd" trip that didn't get rained out:

The first few leaves in the back woods are turning yellow. There is a hickory directly across from my window; I can't wait for it to turn brilliant. It will. I know it will! First autumn in our home. Still finding all of the new things.

By all standards, this was an epic summer. And for the first time in long time, there's nothing big on the horizon. No Peru, no New Zealand, no trip around the world, no homelessness, no career change, no Nicaragua, no wedding, no home buying, no road tripping.

Just wildflowers and gardens, campfires and hammocks, birthday parties with funny hats and virtual candles, goats on fire, and the happy hum of my treadmill.

And slip n' slides. Definitely slip n' slides.

(Come find me, adventures!)

Switchbacks Are For Suckers

2014-08-10T18:49:00.000-04:00

Hiking the Adirondack Seward Range & Seymour Mountain

I have hiked all over the place, from New Zealand to Montana. I believe that nowhere - nowhere - brings the misery like the Adirondacks. Thick clouds of blackflies, bad weather, knee-deep mud, horrifically steep and eroded trails...

Yeah, "trails."

Dave and I had a good dose of horrifically steep and eroded trails when we hiked the Seward Range and Seymour Mountain. By far, these peaks were the hardest trails of the summer, way harder than anything we hiked in California, Oregon, Washington, Montana, or Wyoming.

Switchbacks? What are those? :-)

Our route:

Day 1 we hiked in via Ward Brook, made camp at Ward Brook Lean To (just past 2), hiked Seward (3) - Donaldson (4) - Emmons (5) - Donaldson (4) - Seward (3).
Day 2 we hiked Seymour (6), broke camp (just past 2), and hiked back out.

The walk in via Ward Brook is totally cruiser. We chose to tent near the Ward Brook Lean-To, because that site is between the herd path turn-offs for Seward and Seymour. Other folks stay at Blueberry or #4. I'd pick Blueberry over #4, so you have a shorter distance back to camp after Seward.

The turn-off for Seward is really easy to find - it's just after this bridge!

The north approach to Seward has the reputation for being awful. It's muddy, steep, and rough, but it's not insane. Take the back side of Algonquin, add the cliffs of Cliff, and season with the mud of Iroquois. So: muddy, steep, and rough.

The hard part of the day is leaving Emmons. Why? The trail is easiest at this point! But knowing that you are about to reverse all of the hard work you did, going back over the two mountains you just hiked....

Some folks exit down Calkins Brook, but I think that would take just as long. And the trail really isn't that bad. Be careful on the way down, though - we missed a cairn and needed to backtrack to avoid a bushwhack.

In camp, we found a frog in a tree. He was cute.

The trail up Seymour is also steep, eroded, and muddy, but not as bad as the north side of Seward. The trail is easy to find from Ward Brook. The worst part was the rawness of my shoulder blades under my pack.

After Seymour, it's an easy pack out, again via Ward Brook. The perfect overnight!

The trip is somewhere around 23ish miles, with somewhere around 5,000 feet of elevation gain. Of those 23 miles, around 13ish are the aforementioned muddy, steep, eroded, unmaintained summit herd path. Dave and I averaged about 1 mile per hour on these sections.

Like I said... easily the hardest trail I've done all summer... and right in my backyard! Take that, Western states with your big mountains!

P.S. High Peaks count: 37 down, 9 to go!

The Storm That Chased Us From Wyoming to South Dakota

2014-07-23T09:19:00.000-04:00

Eastbound from the Wind River Range and Lander!

We stopped at Devil's Tower in eastern Wyoming. Totally climbable! And also 95 degrees with a high forecast for thunderstorms. We looked but didn't touch.

nothing else around besides this huge tower

We also didn't touch the ground hogs, even though I wanted to squeeeeeeeze them because they are so CUTE! (I'd feel differently if they were in my garden...)

squee!

A storm formed above Devil's Tower and chased us east for 200 miles.

really glad i'm not one of the climbers we saw on top of the tower

We drove past Mt. Rushmore, but it's really a huge tourist trap so this was as close as we got.

kind of lame

As we neared the Badlands, we could see the storm in our rear-view mirror.

ruh roh

We ate dinner in the car and set up our tent during a break in the rain. Otherwise, we chilled out in the car, chatting at watching the lightening, before retiring to the tent.

it looks so pretty

like a painting

surely this storm will blow through quickly... right?

At 2:00 a.m, all hell broke loose.

The sky lit up with a stream of paparazzi flashbulbs, bright enough to see the tents across the field. I awoke to a constant screaming wind, interrupted with the drumroll of angry thunder. The wind had changed direction - actually, it was coming from all directions - and it blew the side of the tent onto us, again and again. The stakes holding the vestibule ripped out, and once those blew, the corners started going. We tried to restake from inside the tent, because the only thing holding that tent to the earth was our body weight.

There was a violent, prolonged, intense wind to my side of the tent... and then silence, stillness, and near total darkness. For 4 or 5 long seconds, we could hear the wind shrieking across the hills around us. In our field, though, we could hear the crickets chirping. Yes... creepy.

And then, without warning or warm-up, a giant's hand squashed our tent like a mosquito. The most violent and aggressive of sustained gusts hit the tent squarely on Dave's side. He threw himself to the corner to hold it down, and I grabbed his back. "This is getting scary."

No more screwing around: we needed to reinforce this tent, or we needed to get the hell out of South Dakota. I made a mad dash to the car for extra stakes, rope, and a hammer. I drove in stakes like my life depended on it (my sleeping bag sure did) while Dave sprawled like a starfish in the tent to keep it in place. Bowlines slipped from my fingers onto the guylines like a pianist performing a sonata - thank goodness for practice. Once the tent seemed like it wouldn't blow all the way to Minnesota, Dave joined me in his boxers. We doubled the number of stakes and guylines holding the tent to the clay earth and hopped back inside, hoping for the best.

It was 3:30 a.m.

The worst was over. It did continue to storm throughout the early morning hours, but without the violence of that storm cell. We woke in the morning to distant thunder - still! - and a field largely vacated of tents. Seems like the Double Rainbow was one of the proud few to survive the night.

tarptent double rainbow FOR THE WIN!

western south dakota: buffalo and thunderstorms

After the excitement of the night, the Badlands weren't terribly interesting. The landscape reminded me a lot of the hoodoos in Bryce Canyon in Utah, just less impressive.

meh. insane electrical storms are way more exciting.

From South Dakota... homeward bound!

When the Crux is the Approach

2014-07-20T21:39:00.000-04:00

Climbing & Backpacking the Winds (Wind River Range)

Q: What happens when you combine a climbing trip with a backpacking trip?

A: Really freaking heavy packs.

Q: What happens when your pack is really freaking heavy?

A: Misery.

so. heavy.

Before we headed into the Wind River Range, we spent an evening in the Ridley's grocery store in rural Pinedale, Wyoming, calculating the products with the highest caloric content per weight ounce. (Two dirty backpacking climbers with calculators among the horse trailers and cowboy hats = hilariously awkward.)

"pinedale: all the civilization you need"

We discovered that Pop Tarts and Fritos are in, and quinoa and fresh produce are out. Basically, the more Amurrrican the product, the better it fit our criteria for convenience, calorie content, and packability. Unfortunately, it was a perfect demonstration of one of the causes of America's weight issues – if you eat this sh!t and you are not burning >1,500 calories per day due to exercise and altitude (which I'm going to guess is most people), your body will NOT be happy.

testing recipes in the grocery store parking lot

Even reducing our total food weight, our packs were still pretty darn heavy. Take everything you'd need on a 5 day backpacking trip (including food, tent, stove and fuel, map, clothing layers, first aid and survival kit, etc), and add TWO 60 meter ropes, a full trad rack, harnesses, shoes, and helmets. Dave took the group climbing gear, and I took most of the group camp gear.

whew

My personal definition of alpine climbing is: “when the crux is the approach!!"

DAY ONE: Big Sandy Trailhead to Cirque of the Towers

The hike from the trailhead to Big Sandy Lake is easy (mostly flat), but I am tired. So tired.

somehow i am still upright

Then, the trail starts to climb. Taking a break at the outlet of North Lake, we hear “Dave and Nicole?!?” And standing in front of us are two friends from Ithaca! I nearly fell in the creek! What a small world, what a lovely coincidence, and what a way to lift the spirits!

the best thing since poptarts: coincidental run-ins with friends from home... 6 miles from the trailhead and

Going around North Lake is a pain; we gain elevation and lose elevation and also lose the main trail.

pretty, but harder walking than necessary

At Arrowhead Lake, we choose to take the climbers' path, which heads directly into the Cirque by crossing a boulder field instead of climbing up and over Jackass Pass. Routefinding around the boulders is tricky against impassable rocks the size of our house.

a *very* provisional thumbs up

And then we pop out into the Cirque. Pretty amazing.

whaaa???

I find a campsite high on the southern ridge of the Cirque, tucked into some trees and hopefully above the mosquitoes.

home sweet home

DAY TWO: Climbing Pingora, 11,884', 5.8 III

For me, a “relaxed morning” is two cups of tea, journalling, a nap, and then leaving camp.

For Dave, a “relaxed morning” means sleeping until 7:00 a.m. and eating oatmeal in camp instead of Pop Tarts on the trail.

Interestingly, this pattern is reversed when we're at home. But in any case, mountain climbing barely allows for a Dave-style relaxed morning, so off we go.

sugar, fat, and calories. and a stomach ache.

Because of our camp location, we had twice as far to bushwhack as most climbing parties. Much of the bushwhacking is boulder-scrambling, which is slow and annoying. It takes several hours to pick our way across the Cirque. It sucked.

this looks way cooler and prettier and happier than it was. you just can't see my face is all.

Reaching the southern shoulder of Pingora, we can't decide how to apply the general guidebook approach description to what we were seeing. It was frustrating.

Finally, we decide to scramble the class 3 and 4 ledges up the southern toe of the southern shoulder. Correct choice, but there are several sections that were exposed and slightly dodgy. It was scary.

what do you mean, i'm supposed to go right up the side of that? unroped?

Of course, as soon as we rope up, I have my security blanket (I'm such a baby), and the climbing goes very well. It was awesome!

Pitches are long...

holy exposure, batman!

We take fun variations 'cause why not... (and we got to pass a slow party, again - since when are we the fast ones?)

proof that tricams are useful

The most technical sections are also very aesthetic...

drool

The setting and the views are BEAUTIFUL...

very nice

Weather holds perfectly...

except for the intense wind

...And we top out on one seriously cool mountain.

we made it!

cirque panorama

Of course, the day isn't complete without some drama.

First time ever that we get a rope stuck on a rappel. Dave ties in with our other rope, leads up to the problem flake, then down-leads. Not too bad.

exposure on rappel

Then, we can't find Dave's pack. All of the ledges look the same. Did an animal grab it? Did it blow away? Ah, there it is.

where the HECK is that pack.

We are tired and out of food and water. My contacts are so dry from the wind it's hard to open my eyes completely. Time to move intentionally and deliberately, checking everything. No rushing. No impatience. We'll get down, sooner or later.

still a long way to go

Finally at the trail junction where I left my pack, we eat snacks, drink water, and I wash my hands in icy snowmelt and peel the contacts off my eyes.

Return across the boulder fields...

the very definition of type II fun

And finally back to camp at 9:00 p.m.

zzzzzzzzzzz

“It's just a three pitch climb,” they said. “It won't take that long,” they said. As long as you know the approach and don't mind exposed scrambling and remember that it's always later than it should be in the mountains!

Well after dark, we see the headlamps of the party we passed, descending the boulder field. At least we weren't that slow.

DAY THREE: Hike Texas Pass, ~11,400'

My birthday! Dave lets me do whatever I want. Today I get my two cups of tea.

We hike down the Cirque to Lonesome Lake and rest in the sun for a while.

reigning nap champ

Two climbers make the scramble along the shoulder of Pingora we made yesterday. They are itty bitty against the granite expanse. I feel small.

can you see them?

Hiking here means picking the line of least resistance and going cross-country. Most of my hiking has been on trails in higher use areas. The Cirque area has some herd paths, and it's best to use them if they exist and you can find them, but today we wander.

ramblin'

I'm feeling rested and happy, so we continue up the other side of the Cirque toward Texas Pass. The pass has a small snowfield, easily bypassed. And amazing views!

that one in the middle? we climbed that!

Great way to spend a birthday.

When we get back to camp, our tent has blown over. Hrm, windier than I thought.

ruh-roh.

I catch up on my journal and take a nap. Ahh, this is nice, especially after the death marches of the past two days.

reflecting and documenting

The mosquitoes are intense, though.

"i vant yer blooooood"

And so is the storm that blows through while we're cooking dinner, hiding under the overhang of a boulder. The thunder echoes and rumbles around the Cirque like rocks in a clothes dryer.

catching run-off from the boulder to rinse my dinner bowl

DAY FOUR: Return hike, Cirque to Big Sandy Trailhead

Even though we brought food for five days, we decide to head out on day four. I'm not inspired by the other climbs in the guidebook. I've got other plans on my mind. And I'm not feeling super great, with bloody sinuses and the beginnings of a hacking cough.

The wind continues intensely from last night's storm as we cross Jackass Pass, this time on the hiker's trail instead of the climber's trail.

nice hair, dave

As we descend, the clouds begin to gather. Crap.

seriously? what else on this trip...

I explode my pack at Big Sandy Lake and repack everything inside a contractor bag. The wag bag (i.e. alpine poop bag) stays on the outside of the pack. Imagine how many crude turd jokes Dave made.

yes, yes i did. back at the car, of course.

The contractor bag acts as a talisman, and the clouds drop only a spritz of hail and rain on us. And then we're back at the trailhead.

A few hours drive puts us in Lander, one of the most climber friendly towns on the planet. We have a shower at the local climbing and fitness gym, then camp in the City Park. Legally, for once!

what? usually we have to be discreet...

EPILOGUE

type 2 fun. but still fun :-)

It was a heck of a butt-kicking trip, but I had fun. More over, I'd love to return here someday. The Wind River High Route and the Deep Lake climbs look awesome. I would definitely do more trip planning, and it would be even better to return with someone who knows the area (Jeff??). Some day!

cirque of the towers from lonesome lake

Trip Report: Guides Wall, Grand Teton National Park

2014-07-15T21:00:00.000-04:00

By the time we reached the Tetons, I was seriously draggin' (dragon!). I started the trip pretty tired, and keeping up with Dave is a serious butt-whumping. We established and maintained a hard pace with very little time in the frontcountry for rest/ recovery.

Furthermore, it had been 45 days - 45 days! - since my last decent shower. In those 45 days, I had hiked a lot of miles and climbed a lot of vertical feet.

I was exhausted and ready to throw in the towel and head back to Ithaca.

And then I took the most amazing shower of my life, right up there with the Turkish hamam, except this was in the Colter Bay campground in the Tetons. I walked out of that shower and said to Dave, “I will climb anything – anything – in this park. Let's do it!!” Amazing what a slight comfort can do for the soul...

thumbs UP!!

So after speaking with a kind older climbing ranger (who casually mentioned being a dirtbag back in the day when people still used “pins” in the Gunks (!)), we decided on Guides Wall, the six pitch quintessential intro Tetons climb.

guides wall

The approach was much easier than Beckey/ Liberty Bell. Park at the String Lake trailhead, take the horse trail up Cascade Canyon, and look right when you get to the first real pond. Stay on the climbers' trail for the easiest approach to the base of the climb.

loved the waning moon next to the mountains

that's the guides wall line right there

Dave and I climbed very efficiently; we passed a party and caught up to another (who we couldn't pass). It is very rewarding to see our teamwork, communication, and technical skills continue to improve. Our marriage conflicts tend to happen in the mountains, so those skills are something we work to improve with every trip. I have casually observed other couples in the mountains/ woods with similar issues. This would make an interesting essay on it's own...

top of p6

Speaking of marriage, at one of the many scenic overlooks, I realized that the mountain range on our wedding bands closely matches the Tetons! I sketched this free-hand with no intent to resemble an existing mountain range. Whoaaaa!

Anyway, back to the climb! Pitches 5 and 6 are the money pitches, with the harder, most exposed, most sustained climbing. P5 has two crack options, and P6 is crack and face.

little love for my colleagues; little love for the crack

And you have these amazing views, too!

not too shabby :-)

The Tetons were pretty sweet. Just a huge mountain range sticking up out of the plain.

the classic teton panorama

I feel super fortunate that I was able to see these mountains from an angle that most visitors don't get!

Yellowstone

2014-07-13T20:38:00.000-04:00

Reasons for being tourists instead of backpackers in Yellowstone:

Tons of wildlife all over the place, easily viewed from the road.

yellowstone black bear, doing his thing

Participating in “bear jams” is kind of exciting (when one car spots a bear and pulls over, and then every other car thereafter pulls over to figure out what the first car is looking at, rinse and repeat).

WHAT ARE THEY LOOKING AT

Weather was mediocre. (“There is no bad weather, only bad clothing” - Norwegian proverb – yeah yeah, whatever, I said mediocre not bad.)

grand prismatic spring from under my umbrella

Cross-country travel is complicated by geothermal activity, and it would suck to break through a soil crust into boiling water.

that's a geyser

Buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo.
(The English language's longest grammatically correct sentence made of a single word. Translates as “Ticked off bison from Upstate NY anger other irate bison from Upstate NY.”)

The Silent City of Rocks (Idaho)

2014-07-10T12:20:00.000-04:00

Subtitle:

"The Good Rest, The Bad Heat, And The Ugly Bolting"

Since the high country in the Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness Area was still snowed in, and we had just spent 4 days backpacking in Glacier's backcountry, we decided to climb for a bit.

We had heard that City of Rocks, in southern Idaho, is a fantastic, amazing, fun place to climb. Expectations usually set you up for disappointment. More on that in a minute, but first - let's take a rest day.

Our first day in City of Rocks was a total rest day. Not like a "we'll do some fun and easy sport climbing and call it a rest day," or a "we'll grocery shop and do laundry and get on the internet and call it a rest day" rest day, but an actual "we are not doing ANYTHING today" rest day.

We arrived at our campsite at midnight, so we slept in. Then I caught up on my journal and finished reading a book. Afternoon thunderstorms rolled through, so I took a long nap. Rest day was a Friday, so we had a little Shabbat celebration for the first time on the trip.

high desert thunderstorms

happy rest day! a very un-kosher shabbat

The rock formations here are bizarre and slightly sinister. Blobby and angular at the same time, jumbled up like a labyrinth. I find clean, steep, tall cliff lines to be aesthetically pleasing - these textures reminded me of the weird stuff that ends up under your fridge. I wanted to wander through the formations, but I didn't feel very inspired to climb them.

the silent city of rocks

Camping is the best part of City of Rocks. Sites are scattered all around the rocks. Two steps out of your tent and you're at the base of the climb.

great horned owl, being majestic on the rock next to our site

Since there's very little sport climbing close to our home, we decided to stick to the bolted routes. In general, I thought that this place has really bad bolting.

On multiple climbs, the majority of the hangers were spinners. On another route, we found a suspect anchor bolt (!). We didn't climb that much, so for such a high proportion of the bolting on our sampling to be crap... yikes.

More often than not, the bolt spacing seemed inadequate to protect the climb. It's fun to climb a PG-rated sport climb - just a little bit of spice. I think it's unusual and not enjoyable to find PG-13 to R-rated sport climbs. Examples:

A climb with a 10d crux but 10a-10c climbing off the deck has a first bolt almost too high to stick clip. Why?
A 10b that is sensibly protected... except for an awkward crux with ugly fall potential. Why?
First bolts ~30 feet off the deck. Why?

The philosophy behind bolting here seems to be "Well, if you can get through a 5.10c/d crux, then you don't need protection on the 5.9+ climbing below it." I disagree with this philosophy. Climbing is inherently risky - but if you are equipping a route, climbers will climb it with a reasonable expectation of your bolts providing protection (e.g. "if I fall, I might shatter an ankle... but I'm unlikely to deck."). Once you mar/ alter (depending on your opinion) the natural form of the rock, you might as well do it adequately. Accidents happen, even to competent climbers well below their limit.

Beyond the crappy bolting, I didn't like the climbing movement. I like steep, crimpy routes, or routes with strange body position gymnastics. Lots of slab here... with inelegant smearing, pushing my butt out to gain friction, open hands slowly slipping. I felt like an inchworm trying to climb a windowpane.

Finally, the current best guidebook is pretty bad. Maybe ok for a self-published guide, but pales in comparison to guides for other areas (e.g. the ones published by Wolverine Press). It has photos of each cliff (good!) and the names of each route (good!), but it doesn't even indicate if the climb is bolted, trad, or mixed. Get the Mountain Project app instead, it's just as useful.

Ok, let's end this on a happy note!

Since it's so hot, we chilled out (heh) in camp in the middle of the day to avoid the heat.

I climbed "New York Is Not The City," which is the best name ever.

And now I can say that I've been to Idaho!

Early Season Backpacking in Glacier National Park

2014-07-05T14:01:00.000-04:00

We've been running into a lot of this on the trip:

SNOW. Or pretty white flowers, if I'm trying to fool myself.

What to do when the backcountry is still snowed in? Hike up a few valleys and avoid the mountain passes.

We spent four days in Glacier's backcountry, hiking up and down the Belly and Mokowanis Rivers in the northeastern corner of the park on the Canadian border. It's not as spectacular as the mountain passes, but it's a scenic early season option. And yes, early July is still early season.

Day 1: Hike from Chief Mountain Trailhead to Glenn Lake (Foot)

From Chief Mountain, the trail descends down to the Belly River, passing through lots of beautiful meadows. If you're early in the season, the meadows will shine with wildflowers!

At the Belly River Ranger's Station, we headed west toward Cosley Lake.

It was hot, so I hiked all day in Chacos with a pack. I felt that the hiking was very moderate, with ~700 feet descent and maybe ~250 feet ascent over the 10.3 miles. Met a few people in camp who were knackered and carrying packs twice the size of mine. Lighten up, people!

downside: dusty, dirty digits

We made camp in a designated spot by the lake.

pretty!

Immediately, all our gear was swarmed with moths, seeking out salt from our sweat.

yummy

Day 2: Up the Mokowanis to Margaret Lake, Down the Mokowanis to Cosley Lake

The next day, we packed up camp and stashed our gear to day hike farther up the valley. This part of the trip was super pretty.

A pretty double waterfall past Mokowanis Lake camp is the official end of the trail, but we saw another alpine lake hiding behind it on the map.

TRAIL BETA to MARGARET LAKE: at the base of the lower waterfall, continue on a herd path to the left of the falls. Follow the creek bed past the cascades. Keep the creek on your right as you walk up it, even though a large cairn is on the other side.

When the cascades peter out, continue up a tributary creek to the left of the main creek. There are a few different ways to go (we took one going up and another coming down). It shouldn't seem too difficult at this point.

You are aiming for a series of ledges to the left of the upper waterfall. The herd path from the tributary creek passes in front of a very steep wall by trending right, then climbs a series of ledges with some running water. Then you pop out at the upper left side of the upper waterfall!

drying out the boots and gaiters

We had lunch up here, enjoying the sunshine after the previous evening's rain.

margaret lake panorama

On our way down, we spotted a herd of bighorn sheep on the other side of the river. They were just as curious about us as we were about them!!

losing their winter coats. kind of scruffy... like dave!

We retraced our steps down the Mokowanis to Glenn Lake, picked up our gear, and hiked a few more miles down valley to Cosley Lake camp. Dave had a full river bath, but it was WAY too cold for me, so I stuck with the washcloth wipe-down.

minimizing trail grossness

Dave got some smoked oysters from another camper. It's amazing how he attracts food. Another camper shared some cinnamon whiskey, which is The New Official Tedeyan Backcountry Adult Beverage.

"hmmm not bad"

The water in Cosley Lake was oh-so-still, like a perfect natural mirror.

Day 3: Cosley Lake to Elizabeth Lake + Side Trips

I had been thinking about the start to Day 3 since a few miles into Day 1, when I looked closely at the map and realized that I would have to ford a river. As in, put my pack on my head and walk through the water.

I don't do water. And in summer, I don't pack with an extra set of clothes.

But I also didn't want to walk a bunch of miles out of the way. Sooo... down to the skivvies.

uhhhh that looks cold

And here we go.

this photo intentionally vague to protect my modesty but included here as PROOF that i voluntarily went in the water

It wasn't that bad.

We dropped our gear at the foot of Elizabeth Lake.

more alpine pretty

While I was eating lunch, a huge black bug landed on my face. WTF?! I brushed it off and it landed in my peanut butter wrap. Argh.

grosssss

I knocked it off my wrap and scraped off the PB. Little jerk, ruining my lunch.

chocolate covered raisins, yoghurt covered pretzels, peanut butter covered bugs

Ever heard of the threat "I'll cover you in honey and leave you in the woods for the bears?" No? Whatever. Dave wondered what would happen if the ground squirrels noticed the bug.

CRUNCH.

Dave's laugh was priceless, but I felt bad for the bug.

From Elizabeth Lake, you can continue up the valley to Helen Lake, or you can take a side trip up to Red Gap Pass. Red Gap is one of the lowest elevation passes in the park and one of the first to open to non-technical travel.

We walked about halfway up the hill toward the pass, until the heat overtook me and I started getting sick.

elizabeth lake panorama

Back down at camp, we cooled off in the lake.

ahhh

A few campers were fly fishing. The fish were jumping like water on a hot skillet. There certainly were enough bugs!!

evening light

Day 4: Elizabeth Lake to Chief Mountain

We decided to beat the heat with an early start the next morning. The hike ends with a 700 foot climb on a moderate, switchbacked trail - totally fine by our standards - but certainly more pleasant in the cool of morning.

belly river ranger station

And then we were done!

belly river

Other random comments about backpacking these parts...

Many of the camps in these valleys have resident deer who like to steal sweaty hiking shirts, stinky trail runners, and expensive cameras with sweaty straps (no, really). They'll also eat the grass where you pee. They want your salt, so watch your belongings, pee on rocks, and keep a clean camp.

shameless

Hanging food bags is a valid wildlife (bear) management strategy in Glacier, which is SO COOL! No bear can (subtract 2.74 lbs from pack)! Can't do that in the Adirondacks!

this actually works here!

On the downside, the bears here are grizzlies, as well as black bears. They don't take kindly to being startled, and they're even touchier when cubs are around. We made ourselves hoarse with whooping, hollering, and singing to announce our presence.

Glacier gets TONS OMG SO MANY backpackers. The park management has done a great job of mitigating the impacts of so many people tromping through the backcountry. You can only camp in designated sites, and the designated sites have pit toilets to prevent the fields from being dug up for cat holes, plus poles or wires for hanging food to prevent damage to trees. The designated camps also have designated food prep areas where people tend to congregate. For "wilderness," it can be a very social atmosphere, if you want it to be.

cooking at cosley lake

I read somewhere, "Which is the prettiest backcountry camp in Glacier? All of them!" and I would tend to agree. If you're planning a trip and don't get the exact camp you want, don't stress. They're all great.

I ran into so many people on their first backpacking trip, or even their first time camping/ sleeping in the woods. Very impressive! This seems to be a bucket list type of place for people. We were able to give some encouragement and suggestions to some. Gave these nice (hitch)hikers a ride from Chief Mountain back to Many Glacier - was the first trip for one - hope he comes back for many more.

P.S. I'm writing this trip report ~2ish weeks after the trip. At the time, I wasn't super impressed with the trip. None of the trail days were hard, and the secenry was very pretty but not spectacular. I'm glad I write these trip reports, though, because this was a great experience in retrospect.

Trip Report: Beckey Route on Liberty Bell

2014-07-03T15:45:00.000-04:00

"Wouldn't It Be Cool If We Could Climb That..."

Driving along Rt. 20 out of the North Cascades National Park, a range of beautiful cliff walls rose up in front of us.

We pulled into an overlook to get a closer look.

Dave made his "I want to climb that" face - a little smirk plus a twinkle in his eye. I made my "I'm going to get dragged into a Type 2 adventure, {sigh}" face.

But I had to admit, those were some mighty fine mountains. Especially that tall one on the right.

In Mazama the next day, the owner of Goat's Beard told us that was Liberty Bell, and there was a moderate route up its southwest face. Oh really?

In camp that evening, the climbers next to us insisted that we would love the Beckey Route. Oh really?

Eh, why not!

The Approach

Kind of sucks. I guess the extremely loose, steep choss pile is "normal" for the North Cascades. I wore a helmet (probably the only place on the mountain where it was really warranted).

We had to pull out our Super Topo book a few times to make sure we were picking the right gully, but after you're up here once, you'll know exactly where the climb starts.

Also, watch out for aggressive mountain goats, especially if they have kids.

dave attempts the frozen snowfield without spikes - that didn't last long!

nasty, loose, chossy approach

played "hide and seek" with these guys for a few minutes

The Climb

Pitch one - not that memorable. I do remember thinking that the rock quality is very good, especially compared to the sand pile below. 5.easy.

pitch one

Pitch two was the money pitch for me. A series of chimneys, some mantling, and even a (easily bypassed) sweet short section of offwidth (never pass up an opportunity to stack hands!). It was more physical and more fun than I expected. I went deep into the chimney to make it a bit harder, felt about 5.6.

On pitch three, I had a self-professed "dirt bag" up my rear end the entire climb - literally - he could have touched my feet for the entire pitch - instead, he gave me tips on my technique (how, uh, considerate?). Fortunately, I was in a good mood, otherwise I would have told him to back the f*** off 'cause I was about to fall. ;-) Anyway, the "airy finger traverse" should come meet some of our airy traverses in the Gunks. This felt closer to 5.4-5.5.

pitch three

Pitch four is some 4th class scrambling and a short 5.6 slab. Depending on your comfort level, you could drop rope and harness at the P3 belay and solo to the top. If you'd downclimb it without a rope (which at least one person in your party will have to do), you can climb up it without a rope. Being generally timid with exposure, I stayed on belay the entire time, 'cause why not, we had nowhere else to be.

pitch four

The Views

Second only to the Khumbu Valley in Nepal. Seriously, took my breath away.

We hung out on top for a while, eating lunch and soaking in the views.

The Bad Part

While we were at the top, I had my first close call in my 6+ years of climbing. We let another party use our anchor, and the clueless-yet-thinks-he-knows-what-he's-doing leader didn't understand what he was seeing, didn't have the humility to ask, and therefore put my (and his) life in danger.

(Quick story: he set up a single strand rap off the wrong biner in our anchor. He used the biner on the back of the ATC in guide mode - and I was still in the belay (views were too good, I got distracted!) So the only thing holding his 225 lb rear end to our anchor was the wire on the back of the ATC... and my 125 lbs body weight on the other end of the rope.)

Amazingly, without seeing how he set up his rappel, my spider sense told me that I shouldn't trust what was going on. This was the guy whose anchor for P2 was a PAS to a single shrub the size of my arm, and who belayed his wife directly off his harness - no, really. (What do you do in a situation like that? Say something? What could you possibly say??) I untied and escaped from the system as soon as the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Thank you, feminine intuition.

At almost the same time, Dave did see what was going on, and immediately acted to correct the leader's error (and potentially save his butt, too). Backed up that biner with a quickdraw into the power point of the anchor.

Lesson learned: NO ONE TOUCHES OUR GEAR FOR ANY REASON WITHOUT DAVE OR I CHECKING THEIR WORK. This goes for people we meet on the climb as well as our climbing friends of many years (who know their stuff and will understand why this is important!). Dave and I always check each other, because it's so easy to make a mistake and the consequences can be so high. We should have had this rule in place before, but I guess it takes a close call to make you remember why it's important.

The Descent

I rapped off our top anchor to avoid down climbing the 5.6 slab and to get down fast. There were multiple parties coming up P3 and P4, and I am not a fast climber or downclimber! Dave broke down the anchor and downclimbed (he's fast).

From there, it's an easy scramble/ downclimb to two sets of bolted anchors.

Overall

It was an awesome experience!

For not a ton of effort or commitment, we saw a landscape that only the birds and climbers get to see.

We climbed our first alpine-ish route.

And I think it's so cool that we were able to see a mountain, say "wouldn't it be cool if we could climb that"... and then go do it.

liberty bell is the face on the right

Mazama Sport Climbing: The Perfect Rest Day

2014-07-02T15:06:00.000-04:00

This is my perfect rest day:

...sport climbing (not too easy, not too hard)...

...hammock nap....

...catching the end of the rope after pulling it (beeeeeer!)...

...ice cream...

...river bath before it gets too cold...

...racking up for an adventure the next day...

...campfire and early bed.

Seriously, this day was THE PERFECT REST DAY.

Mazama isn't destination climbing, but it's a fine way to spend a day or two if you're in the area. The rock is ok, the grades are soft, really nothing super special, but the approach from the parking area is <1 a="" href="http://www.goatsbeardmountainsupplies.com/" minute.="" nbsp="" o="" to="">Goat's Beard Mountain Supplies
in Mazama and buy a photocopy of the route topos for a few dollars on the way in, then buy ice cream at the Mazama store on the way out. And enjoy your rest day!

Early Season Hiking in the North Cascades

2014-07-01T14:51:00.000-04:00

After the Olympic peninsula, we turned east and started heading home. I always notice that point in the trip - when I am the farthest away - and that first step that takes me back the way I came.

That step took us through Seattle.

Like, literally, through. We drove right through and didn't stop. Yeah, it's cool, and it's a city and it just wasn't that interesting. I did see the Spacey Needle from the ferry, which was all I wanted.

On to the North Cascades!

The North Cascades are AWESOME because there is NO way to experience them from your car. The drive through Rt. 20 shows tall green hills - and that's it. The landscape is SO rugged that it's simply impossible to build roads through it (like Nepal!). The mountains reveal themselves only to hikers, climbers, and skiiers. In contrast to Yosemite Valley, the North Cascades is one of the least frequented National Parks. Le sigh.

not building a road across that for sure.

The downside to the ruggedness of the landscape and the higher altitude? Most everything is still snowbound. Axe and crampons and the experience to use them properly are strongly recommended, if not required. None of which we had packed in The Matrix's turtle shell top.

we did not cook dinner at this trailhead. because we could not get to the trailhead.

We were able to do two moderate day hikes (9-10 miles, 2-3000 feet elevation gain): Cascade Pass and Fourth of July Pass.

Cascade Pass takes you past up to the shoulder of Johannesburg Peak and/or The Triplets (don't have a map at the moment) and gives you views of the Pelton Basin.

johannesburg panorama

The hike itself is super easy. I like how these western trailbuilders use switchbacks. No erosion, and you can chug along at a steady pace. Adirondacks, take note!

The last switchback had several snowfields, one of which covered a talus slope.

this was a little sketchy

We had microspikes, and I had poles. It was late in the day and the snow was mush, so Dave punched down steps for me, and we were fine.

And we got views like this:

looking into pelton basin

at the foot of the triplets (?)

On the bright side, because it's so early in the season, we were able to hike the most popular trail in the park without seeing more than a half-dozen people. Score!

The next day, we hiked up to Fourth of July Pass. This is a lower pass, and we didn't encounter any snow at all. But holy switchbacks: this trail was pretty steep, and we had The Day Three Blues (third consecutive day of hiking to mountain passes = tired legs).

holy switchbacks batman

From the top, you get some nice views of the Neve Glacier and Klawatti Peak and Klawatti Glacier.

klawatti peak and glacier

neve glacier

Honestly, it wasn't as pretty as Cascade Pass. The color of Thunder Creek was so cool, though - a pearly turquoise green blue. The glaciers grind down the mountains to dust, and this "rock flour" gives the water it's color.

neat color, eh?

I'd love to come back here when there is either a) less snow (=awesome backpacking) or b) more snow and the right gear.

Slowing Down on the Olympic Peninsula

2014-06-29T14:19:00.000-04:00

The first few weeks of this trip were really hectic. We'd hike or climb during the day, then drive, finding a place to crash when the sun was low in the sky. Dave set camp while I cooked; we'd eat, clean up, and crash. In the morning, the tent came down as the sun came up, and we were on to the next adventure. With the big Yosemite adventure smack dab in the middle of the calendar, we had so many places to visit, and so little time left. So we'd go faster and harder.

It rained in Washington. Not very hard - but constantly. Big mountains hid in the clouds, and I never did see Rainier, except the visitor's center diorama.

I spent a few days damp to my core, wrapped in layers of fleece, trying to stay warm. The car smelled like wet hiking socks, slug mucus, and last night's rice and beans. All of our gear was sitting in puddles of water in contractor bags.

tent floating in 3-4 inches of water

It was mildly miserable, just uncomfortable enough to make us realize that our deeper discomfort from constant running-running-running-faster was totally self-inflicted.

tent covered in 3-4 inch banana slugs

The Olympic peninsula wasn't on our original itinerary. But people kept mentioning it, again and again, with intensity. It was special, they said.

A special rainforest is a good place to wait out the rain.

Time to slow down on the Olympic peninsula.

There's nothing to see except what's close to the ground.

There's nothing to do except that which we are doing right now.

There is time to look at moss.

There is time to count the blades on a fern.

There is time to stand in the rain.

ruby beach

There is time to be with wildflowers.

There is time to make friends with a slug.

There is time to hike ten miles up to a mountain pass, even when you know you won't see anything in the clouds at the top.

There are plenty of mossy green streams on the way up for your eyes.

We camped in the Olympic National Forest,

...walked along Ruby Beach,

......took 2 hours to meander the ¾ mile “Hall of Mosses” trail at the Hoh Rainforest, and

.........hiked to Marmot Pass on the east side of the peninsula.

And I can say I agree with every person who mentioned this place. It's special, very special.