Our new hobby

The end of the summer has been just lovely. I understand that it's now October 19th and it does not make sense to be talking about the summer anymore. But as previously noted, one's sense of time is destroyed by long-distance relationships and this continues to be true now that we commute only 130 miles. I moved back to New England at the end of July, and summer sort of started for us then. It took us a little while longer to figure out that we should be enjoying ourselves on weekends instead of dealing with the mess resulting from multiple moves. It took a little longer than that to get over the rockiness of transitioning to another new way of life. (Transition is not my strong suit, which is a shame given how much of it I do.) Eventually we settled into a pattern of doing awesome things on weekends, alternating between New Hampshire and Maine. There was, for example, some boating with cousins Brian, Brenda, Maya, and Isabel.

And we got to spend a little time with Kendra, Jake, Hazel, and Lucy, who came our way to attend the Common Ground Fair (that's residual facepaint on the girls' faces).

Here they are doing a last clean-up before getting in the car to begin their move to Germany. We wish them a great adventure and hopes their next move brings them closer to us.



What we've been really giddy about lately is hiking.

Both Jeff and I have done our share of mountain-climbing in the past, and neither of us had done any of it for at least a few years. Now that I'm in New Hampshire part-time the White Mountains have become a convenient day trip, and we decided that we should get back into it. We had a an early chance on a visit to Mt. Desert Island, where we climbed the Beehive--a super short, steep climb with fantastic views over the ocean.

This was the kind of climb you could do in worn-out sandals and the skirt you happened to be wearing, though I don't particularly recommend it. It made us feel great. So the next weekend, when we were in NH, we decided to drive up to the Whites for a real hike. I remembered enjoying Mt. Whiteface back when I used to climb mountains with some regularity, so we drove on up. It took us awhile to find the trailhead; it took awhile longer to figure out we were at the wrong one. By the time we got to the mountain it was getting late in the day. I did not want to give up the hike after driving all the way up there and getting our boots on and everything. And Jeff did not want me to be angry and sulky, which I might possibly have been just edging toward. So we came up with the inspired solution of taking the quickest possible trail up the mountain: the Tom Wiggins trail, nicknamed the "Fire Escape" and marked with a sign: "Not Recommended. Steep and Loose."

Up we went. Up, up, up. It was steep, and it was loose. Tom Wiggins suffered some verbal abuse. At last we met up with the main trail, which according to my map meant we were only a thumb-width from the summit. Up we went some more. I was sure we were very close, but our predetermined turnaround time arrived. I saw reason. We turned around.

There were, needless to say, no photos.

The following weekend we were in Maine and decided to try out a more moderate hike in the Camden Hills, which are the only bits of elevation close to us. The hike was pretty but views were limited.


Jeff did not understand why I was taking pictures of the fog. Jeff does not have a blog.


This particular spot is called "Ocean Outlook," but we had to take it on faith until a couple weeks later when we tried the hike again.


They aren't kidding. The Camden Hills turned out to be a delightful surprise, with quick hikes that you can do in a couple of hours, go have lunch, and still have time to go home and do your taxes (for which you have filed an extension and which have suddenly come due). The hikes are short but steep enough to feel like a workout, and the views are just spectacular.

Last weekend we tried another Camden Hills hike, called Maiden Cliff. We opted for the slightly longer (maybe 2 mile) Scenic/Ridge trail and again, not kidding. The views are even better than Ocean Outlook.


The cliff is named for one Elenora French, a twelve-year-old who fell off it in the nineteenth century. If you come to visit, we'll probably take you to see her big steel cross.


(That would be because the hike is spectacular, not because of the cross itself.)

I am beginning to realize that it's now really fall, and am remembering why people love fall in New England so much. It turns out that I have not spent an entire fall in New England since 2003. That is a long time to be away. It's not a great year for foliage, thanks to Hurricane Irene, but there are still the wonderful bursts of color that make just driving around a delightful experience. And we'll be seeing the trees from above as often as we can.

It's nice to be here.