Hiking in Short Bursts

Posted on November 24, 2013 by Molly

The idea was a good one. In concept. We planned a short get-away to take advantage of the off-season mid-week rates at Cascade Lodge and do some hiking at the State Parks along the North shore. The advance forecast looked reasonable, so we went ahead and booked our room. We even splurged on the extra $5 for a lake view and corner room.

What we didn’t count on was the fact that the State Parks now allow hunting on a good share of their land. While everything between highway 61 and Lake Superior was off-limits to hunters, much of the remainder was posted with bright orange signs warning us away from the trails. Although Rich looked longingly at the enticing trails along with the empty parking lots, I became the trail police and insisted we stick to safe ground. As a result, our options were rather curtailed, and we ended up with shorter hikes than planned. But it wasn’t all bad.

The first day turned out to be cold, gray and blustery. By the time we finished hiking along the shore at Split Rock Lighthouse State Park, the wind had picked up and snow was starting to fly. We consoled ourselves with bowls of hot soup at Coho Cafe in Tofte and watched the snow swirl and settle on the deck outside. Cascade Lodge suddenly seemed very appealing, and we quickly traded the chilly afternoon for reading by the fireplace in the lodge. We could further rationalize our decision with the promise of a better forecast for the next day.

Sure enough, morning brought bright clear skies. We were up before dawn and crept outside and across to the lakefront to catch the first morning rays of sunlight. It was crisp and cold, but an invigorating and rewarding photo session.

The Cascade River was open for hiking to the top the waterfalls. The trail was beautiful, following the icy flowing waters up one side of the river and back down the other. We followed that with a trip up the Temperance River. The gorges were as impressive as ever, with the added attraction of icicles clinging to the edges of the rocky canyons.

Returning to Split Rock Lighthouse, we hunted down good vantage points for photos. We had great fun clambering around the campsites and down on the rocky beach, testing out all the sites for good shots. What we lost in terms of hiking mileage, we made up for in photography research.

All the way from Cascade Lodge, we followed the Roger Blough ore boat down the lake. When it turned into Two Harbors to dock, we couldn’t resist the opportunity to watch it come into the harbor. We were amazed at the sharp turns required to slip past the breakwater and position the boat for the ore docks. Despite the close proximity of Two Harbors, we’d never seen a boat come into port there before.

Our get-away wasn’t the hiking trip we’d originally envisioned. But neither of us minded the short bursts of hiking interspersed with photography and some creature comforts. In fact, we quite enjoyed it.

Winter by degrees

Posted on November 14, 2013 by Molly

It’s inevitable. Winter is coming. There are some who would rush the season (I live with one) and wish for piles of snow for skiing right away. But I can wait. I prefer to linger in the seasonal changes from fall to winter, seeing the surroundings change with the weather.

The sudden dip in temperatures this last week has already transformed Amity Creek. I expected isolated icy spots, so I was amazed when I found that the river is largely iced over in places. Not only that, but the ice is already crusted with thick snowy-white frost. The vivid white stands out in sharp contrast to the drab weathered leaves and barren trees surrounding it, creating a stark visual path where the creek snakes through the woods. It’s more visible than at any other time of the year.

The sound of rushing water persist, even under the ice and in the openings. Following the creek down closer to Lake Superior, I find more open water where the sun has penetrated the ravine. There I find what I’m really looking for – delicate ice lace. The artwork created by the water, the sun and the freezing temperatures is exquisite – far better than my camera can capture. But I delight in the patterns and shapes I find.

Full fledged winter will come soon enough. And it will bring its own visual delights. For now, I’m content to watch the transformation by degrees.

In the Dark

Posted on November 4, 2013 by Molly

There are certain hazards being married to someone who is fascinated with seeing and photographing the Northern Lights. Being kept outside in the dark in the wee hours of the morning is one of them. Granted, I don’t have to go along on those nocturnal excursions, and if the odds of seeing anything are poor I tend to exercise more restraint and stay home. But being a neophyte photographer myself, and enamored with the elusive night time glow, I do accompany him on many of these outings.

Recently he discovered he had company. A lot of it. The Great Lakes Aurora Hunters is a group of photographers from across the Midwest dedicated to finding and capturing images of the Northern Lights. And last weekend they convened in Two Harbors to network, share techniques and hopefully see the elusive Aurora Borealis. We joined them for a photo shoot on Saturday night.

The timing and location were carefully selected. It was a full moon, so there would be no competition from that bright orb. And our destination was deep in the countryside, far away from the light pollution of any city. We headed inland and drove for miles on a long dirt road. The further we went, the narrower and more rutted it became. But still we inched on. Although we had been strongly encouraged to carpool in order to reduce the number of cars, our caravan still stretched 20 cars or so. We thought it must have been a strange sight for locals who may not see that many vehicles in a week.

Arriving at our photo spot, we had to agree it was excellent. We had a long accessible stretch of shoreline facing north, which could easily accommodate the large numbers of photographers and tripods. The darkness was absolute, and it was an eerie feeling to be out among so many people, camped behind their tripods in spots we could barely see. We could hear voices and cheerful chitchat among members of the group, but there were few other clues to tell us where they were. Carving out a spot for ourselves on the shore of the lake, we set up our cameras.

The weather was perfect – no wind, clear skies, calm water for beautiful reflections, and a modest chill in the 27 degree air. The night had everything – except the Northern Lights. That was no real surprise, however, as all of the forecasts showed a distinct lack of activity. But that didn’t deter the group. The stars were glorious, and nicely reflected in the lake. The path of the Milky Way shone clearly across the sky. And the Big Dipper was in strong evidence. Occasionally we’d see a shooting star, and a cry would go out “Did anyone get that?” We took photos over the lake, then turned our cameras to frame the stars over the trees on the other side. We tested different settings and angles. We chatted with others in the group. But eventually our interest waned. Our fingers cold and our brains weary, we were ready to be done. We could see that this was a hard core group, likely to be out there for hours yet, and we just didn’t have it in us. The only trick was extricating our car without making enemies of the rest of the group by ruining their photos. Slowly we threaded our way back through the photographers by the the faint glow of our parking lights, catching brief glimpses of more people and tripods than we knew were there. They seemed docile enough, so we can only assume we exited the scene gracefully.

As it turns out, my photographs weren’t very good. They looked a whole lot better on the camera LCD than they did on my computer screen. But I chalk it up to a learning experience. And going out with the group proved to be inspiring as well as educational. Rich fared better, especially after he did a bit of post-processing on his shots…

Hopefully by the next time we actually see the Northern Lights, I’ll be better at my photography techniques. Heaven knows, I’ve had enough practice out in the dark.

Sharing Life’s Simple Pleasures

Posted on October 19, 2013 by Molly

It’s been a long time since we’ve had toddlers. But we figured we were up for the challenge when we offered to take our two young grandchildren for three days so our daughter and her husband could get away to celebrate their fifth wedding anniversary.

Just keeping up with a 3 1/2 year old and a 19 month old is a momentous shift in routine for us. Yet I wanted it to be more than just babysitting – I wanted to do some special things with them. After all, that’s what grandparents do. Left to my own devices, I would have ventured out to a pumpkin patch. Or maybe taken them to the zoo. But my husband, Rich, had other ideas. “All the outdoors is a playground” he said. So off to the park we went. Not to play on the swings, but to walk through the woods. Ben, the oldest, wasn’t too sure about shuffling through the leaves on the muddy ground. And the trees lurking overhead did make it a little dark. But when presented with a large stick to carry, he grew in stature and ventured forth. And discovered he liked the woods!

The next day we walked down to the lake. A couple of park benches and a patch of grass didn’t look too interesting to me. But soon Rich and Ben were headed into the woods again. A short walk through the brush brought us all to a stream. What better place to throw sticks into the water! Only when we depleted the local wood supply, did Ben venture further into the woods. This time we were not on park trails. It meant working our way through light underbrush. But Ben was not to be deterred. “C’mon, Grammy” he’d say. Well, if he was game, who was I to hold back? Rich was busy trying to keep Mya from falling in the stream, so it was up to me to follow Ben. He was intrigued with the large downed trees, and his imagination began to unfold. “This is my home” he declared when we found a particularly cozy spot. This time he was so intrigued that we had to lure him back out of the woods to go back home for lunch.

Perhaps there was something to Rich’s idea after all. I still think the pumpkin patch or the zoo would have been fun. But sometimes simple pleasures are the best. I think Ben would agree.

Good Morning, Sunshine!

Posted on October 13, 2013 by Molly

Sometimes a change in routine is good. I love getting out early for a run or cycling, but today’s weather forecast promised a beautiful afternoon for one of our favorite fall bike rides. So I held off on my morning workout.

Instead, I headed down to Lake Superior to capture the sunrise. I was approaching Brighton Beach, our usual spot for viewing the morning sun, when the vivid sky behind the lamp posts of the Lester River bridge caught my eye. I decided to stop there instead, and found some great new vantage points for my photography. In fact others were already there with their tripods, and I admit to borrowing their technique, shooting over the still water at the mouth of the river to gain a reflection. The colorful fall leaves were also mirrored in the same waters, so I turned my camera on them, catching the sun’s rays form a different perspective.

I have to say, it was a very satisfying start to the day. It required more patience, observation and stillness than the energy and drive I am used to expending. But it had its own reward in the sense of well being I felt in the stillness of the morning and the warmth of the sun’s rays. The resulting photographs and lessons learned in the process were gravy on top of that. I’m so very glad I decided to get up and greet the sun.

Blogging on Two Wheels

Posted on October 3, 2013 by Molly

With a blog focused on “Life and the Outdoors in the Northland,” it was a natural for me to chronicle our latest bike trip, the Grand Gaspé Cycling Tour. I don’t consider it a stretch at all to expand the geographical reach of the Northland concept. The interesting thing is that blogging became an integral part of the trip, and in fact had a significant influence on our daily routine. Since Rich was also narrating the trip on the Crazy Guy on a Bike website, my passion did not create conflicting interests.

While we were cycling, which was most of the daytime hours, my attention was focused on the physical activity, the sights, the meals and the logistics of travel – as it should be. But my blog post was never far from my mind. What might today’s theme be? How best to describe this view? How can I work in this situation? What would be a good title? I was often composing as I went.

Taking photographs for my blog posts

Photography was equally impacted. Of course there were pictures of scenery, activities and landmarks that I wanted to take. But I also wove in photos that would illustrate the day’s post. If I fell behind Rich in an illogical spot, he would remark, “You must be blogging again. I didn’t see anything worthy of a photo.” He was usually right.

At the end of the day, our first priority was a shower. But second on the agenda was to download all our pictures. We each brought a nice Canon camera and a tablet, and once we transferred our pictures to the tablets, we’d weed out the bad ones and save the rest. Using each other’s pictures was entirely permissible, as it helped reduce duplication and we could choose from among the best shots. We weren’t fussy about attributing credit to each other as photographer. I just got a little testy when my photos showed up online before I’d even seen them yet.

Quickly publishing a blog post where the campground signal was the strongest

My tablet happens to be an iPad, and Blogsy is my app of choice for blogging on it. It integrates perfectly with WordPress and has the advantage of displaying my post in rich format instead of HTML, and offers formatting tools that are easy to use. Adding photos from my iPad’s native photo app is a cinch – just drag and drop, resize and add captions. Although most motels and even campgrounds had wifi, if I had no connection I could still fully compose my blog post offline in Blogsy. Then it was simply a matter of publishing the next time I found a signal.

Blogging is not a trivial activity. At least not for me. Many a night I’d be up late, wordsmithing in the dark with only the glow of my iPad screen to illuminate my work. Rich was much quicker to compose his posts, and he would shake his head at my obsession for finding just the right tone or phrase. Fortunately, he can sleep through my keyboard tapping.

I fully intended to be more economical about my blogging on this trip. Since it would last two months or more, I reasoned that periodic updates would be adequate. But I should have known myself better than that. I love to capture all my experiences in writing. It’s how they become real to me, by documenting them. So it was no surprise when my posts became nearly daily occurrences. What may have been overkill for my readers was really for my own benefit.

There’s no doubt that blogging on our cycling trip was a big commitment. To say it bluntly, it took up a lot of time. We could have been out seeing the sights of the local towns instead. But to be honest, after a full day of cycling, it was a grand excuse to sit and rest our weary legs and bodies. And I seriously doubt we missed much in the small towns where we stayed. Or so I tell myself.

A Day Without Cars

Posted on September 26, 2013 by Molly

Progress to date: 52 days, 2301 miles

It was time to make our way across New Hampshire. Having successfully travelled south through the river valleys, we now had to get over to the sea coast. The hurdles facing us were Appalachian Mountain ridges in the western half of the state. The solution? The Northern Rail Trail. It offered us 50+ miles of abandoned railroad bed converted to a multi-use trail. And by definition, the inclines were long and very gradual. Barely perceptible, really. It sounded wonderful.

Indeed, the trail provided protected cycling away from traffic, noise, turns and the need for directions. All we had to do was follow the trail, mile after mile. It followed a beautiful wooded course, over streams and rivers, and sometimes along a lake. Leaves were beginning to turn color, and especially near water we were treated to an infusion of brilliance. It definitely felt like fall.

Normally on training rides I love the feel of the trail. When the sights are irrelevant or I'm traversing ground I've covered countless times before, I appreciate being able to just cycle through nice countryside. But I've discovered that they don't have the same appeal as part of a cycling trip. While the scenery is pretty, I feel like it is shielding me from the towns and other real sights beyond the trees. And long before 50 miles pass, I'm interested in seeing a little something else.

Before I malign the Northern Rail Trail unjustly, however, I will admit that this trail did have a few scenic sights of its own. At Potter Place, we found an old railway station and a well-kept caboose. It provided a nice diversion and a good spot for a picnic lunch before resuming our ride.

In one area, the locals had populated the trail with stuffed characters at various intervals, a nice break from the solitude of the trail.

And we did see a covered bridge.

Covered bridge between Danbury and Andover

As long as I'm airing my gripes, I must add that trails usually lack the smooth fast pavement of roads. And that translates to slower progress. I readily admit that we knew ahead of time that this was not a paved trail. We were fully prepared for a crushed limestone type surface. And that's how it started out. It just didn't stay that way. It degenerated into little more than a footpath at times. Or divided itself into two ruts, like a lesser used dirt road. And occasionally it was muddy. It turned out to be one of our longer days of cycling, with the extra time required to navigate the terrain.

And then there were the bridges. That's what did me in. The diagonal boards were uneven and seemed to bounce as my tires rolled over them. Down the middle was another set of boards on top, narrowing the path into two sections. I managed to get thrown off balance on one approach, wobble across my half of the bridge deck and ricochet off the center strip. Wham! Bang! Down I went before I could extricate a single foot from my pedals, and lay strewn across the bridge still attached to my bike. Fortunately, I suffered only a few bruises and stripped all the recently healed skin off my knee. My first fall of the trip, so close to the end, damaged my psyche more than my body. I approached every bridge hence with a wary eye and a tense grip.

Fortunately, after 26 miles the trail widened and flattened out into a well disciplined path for the remainder of its length. The slow steady climb we'd been doing reversed itself into an equally gradual descent. And even the bridges improved. My mood followed suit. Although sometimes I think I'd rather just deal with the cars.

Parlez Vous Francais?

Posted on September 17, 2013 by Molly

An petit peu. A little bit. But it's a lot more than we could speak about three weeks ago! That's when we entered the French speaking area of Canada, and we've been immersed in a foreign langauge ever since.

It's been a long time since Rich and I studied French – high school for me, college for him. And we've only used it a few times on trips to France. But it's amazing what the brain really does retain. We've both been doing our best to use our French, rather than relying on others to speak English. And in some areas, it was absolutely a necessity. Many menus had English translations on them, but not all. And more than once we got tangled up in ordering our food, and had a surprise or two.

The longer we've been here, the more I've gotten used to it. Bonjour comes out of my mouth automatically these days, rather than Hello. While cycling along, I find myself composing phrases in French for things I want to say. Or I replay conversations in my head, reconstructing them in French as I should have said them. That was particularly true after staying with our French-speaking friends in Quebec. I have to say that I'm quite enjoying the experience, and my confidence is growing along with my vocabulary each day.

Rich is quite comfortable with his French, but he's ready to revert to English. It won't be long now, as tomorrow we will cross the border back into New Hampshire. They are not likely to speak French over there.

We didn't have too much call for using our French today, as we mostly cycled through quiet countryside, with few towns. It was a brilliantly sunny day, but with a bit of a fall chill to the wind. We continued along the Chaudière River for about half the day, but the flat farmland gave way to rolling hills and forest. Once we moved away from the river, the hills became higher, longer and more frequent. We certainly got a workout today! Judging by the mountains that now surround us, we will have a lot more hill climbing to do for a while.

Waterfalls on the Chaudière River

Mountain views near the border - might one of the peaks be Maine?

We are now within 4 miles of the border of Maine. We plan to cross further west, so perhaps early afternoon tomorrow we will return to the US. Then we can parl Englais encore. But I'll miss speaking French.

Day Tripping

Posted on August 17, 2013 by Molly

Having reached Wolfville in Nova Scotia, we took our Warm Showers host up on his offer to stay a second night. It seemed the perfect opportunity to do a day trip unencumbered by all our gear. So off we went to Cape Split. It's a long narrow peninsula that juts out into the Minas Basin, off the Bay of Fundy.

With Rich still recovering from his maladies, the aim was to make it a leisurely ride. For the most part we accomplished that. We cycled through more rural farmland and little towns, and kept up a modest pace. The weather continued to favor us with clear sunny skies and a mild wind, which we loved. Passing through the town of Canning, I noticed a cute, carved birdhouse on a power line post. And then another. And another. It seems that each was sponsored by a different business in town.

Or host did alert us to the fact that we would have one major hill in each direction. There was no avoiding the fact that we had to get up and over the major ridge line to reach the coast on the other side. Leaving Canning, we soon faced that climb. For several kilometers we snaked up the hill, curving back and forth only to find yet another steeper section ahead of us! It was grueling, but satisfying to reach the top and know the worst was behind us, and that we'd cycle “up top” for some time before descending again. We also stopped to enjoy the broad panoramic view at Lookoff at the top. It gave us some sense of perspective to see the flat expanse of farmland where we'd started our ride.

On the other side of the ridge, we coasted down to sea level again. There we found quiet homes and farms on the water. It was so peaceful, it seemed their world was totally unhurried or touched by the hustle and bustle of modern life. As we neared the end of the road, the surface deteriorated into a series of potholes and crumbled pavement. Just another good excuse to slow down and putz along.

Nearing the end of the road at Cape Split

To reach the true end of the split required an 8k hike to the tip of the peninsula. Alas, it didn't fit into our day's plan. And we still had to reverse our route over that ridge again. Good thing we weren't toting our packed panniers. It would have spoiled the mood. And just for the record, we did find a humble ice cream stand on the way back. To complete our day trip.

Acadia Rain or Shine

Posted on August 10, 2013 by Molly

Acadia National Park was high on our list of sights to see as we cycled the Maine coast. So we allowed a day and a half there for hiking and exploring its natural beauty. Everyone had different interests and priorities, so we split up and

Our first afternoon was a continuation of the bright sunny weather we'd enjoyed all week. Carl and I took advantage of the clear skies to hike up to the top of Cadillac Mountain to take in the views. We had planned to take the easiest route to the top, but somewhere our logistics went awry. When we set off from our starting point, the gentle climb quickly turned into a steep ascent. Clambering up boulders and clutching sheer rocks while I tried to traverse them, I became certain it was not what I signed up for. But going back down seemed the worse option, so I persevered. Fortunately, either the terrain improved slightly, or I became more adept at climbing and my comfort level increased with our progress. I'm certain Carl could have scampered up the trail in half the time, but he patiently stuck with me and surreptitiously ensured I didn't take a tumble. And that route certainly had breathtaking views on the way up, when I dared to turn around and look.

The view from the top was indeed spectacular. Being the tallest point in the park, we could see in almost all directions. Ocean, coastline, boats, forests, lakes and rock everywhere we looked. We tried hard to ignore the hoards of other tourists who had driven to the top and dominated the scene. In our minds, hiking was the best way to enjoy the summit.

Molly and Carl at the top of Cadillac Mountain

Our second day brought the first rain of our trip. Not to be deterred, we still ventured out to hike. The Ocean Trail attracted several of us, with its craggy shoreline and cliffs. Hiking in Acadia seems to be synonymous with walking on rocks, and that trail was no exception. It offered plenty of shoreline rocks for walking across. Myra and I preferred the fact that the direction was horizontal not vertical.

Carl, on the other hand, was enamored with the climbs that offered real vertical ascent. He scaled the Precipice, loving the challenge of the climb. It didn't matter that the views were obscured. Achieving the summit was reward enough for him. It definitely was not the climb for me. Just seeing his pictures made me nervous.

For a group of outdoor enthusiasts, Acadia was a great match. We barely scratched the surface of all the park had to offer. Although we did manage to fit in a bit of cycling getting to and from our hikes. After all, we're on a cycling tour.

Superior Footprints

Life and the Outdoors in the Northland

Category Archives: Outdoors

Hiking in Short Bursts

Winter by degrees

In the Dark

Sharing Life’s Simple Pleasures

Good Morning, Sunshine!

Blogging on Two Wheels

A Day Without Cars

Parlez Vous Francais?

Day Tripping

Acadia Rain or Shine

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