The Great Outdoors

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Scenes of a Summer 2017

Ahhhhhh, summer.  You’re almost over – tomorrow is officially the first day of fall.  And while I’m ready to welcome my favorite season, I’d be remiss if I didn’t give my very-close-second favorite the sendoff that it deserves.

I’ve written here before that, while I live in the temperate Mid-Atlantic region now, I still have something of a New York mentality when it comes to summer fun.  I’m used to waiting impatiently all year for what inevitably turns out to be far too short of a warm season, and to squeezing every minute of fun that I can possibly get out of these few months of the year.  Even in Virginia, where the days are long and warm into October, I can’t help myself – I pack every weekend with activity and drag the family out to make memories several times a week.  Someone stop me!

On Memorial Day weekend, we welcomed the high summer season with a visit to a lavender farm, a stroll through Jones Point Park, and lots of pleasant wandering around Old Town.  We made the rounds of the playgrounds and ate delicious Mexican food with Zan and Paul, who were in town visiting.

The next weekend, Steve went out of town for a boys’ getaway to celebrate a friend’s fortieth birthday.  I was on solo parent duty and spent most of the five days of his absence running to and from the nanny, school and work – and then Peanut came down with a vicious case of strep.  No fun at all!  But we did manage to get out for some fun on that Saturday.  I might be insane, but I took both kids to the zoo by myself.  We visited with the great cats, pandas, elephants and more and the kids had way too much fun in the splash pad.

As soon as Steve returned, I left – for two days of practice group meetings at my firm’s Chicago office.  It was mostly workshops and networking, but I did manage to squeeze in a little time for myself.  I set my alarm early on Friday morning and headed out for just shy of four miles of Chicago sightseeing before making my way to the office and then the airport.

With a couple of weeks to spend at home before our travel schedule heated up, we explored the summer fun in northern Virginia.  We put in some quality time at our local community pool and found a new favorite activity – the splash pad!  We were there almost every weekend, unless we were out of town.

And we also spent a lot of time here – on the back patio, tending to our garden.  It was a little slapstick sometimes, but we had fun and learned some stuff.

In late June, summer travel began in earnest!  We spent a weekend on Virginia Beach visiting with my BFF Rebecca, her fiancé Eric, and their family.  We even got to be there to wish a certain Buffalo friend’s little nephew a happy second birthday in person, and to see his mom’s adorable baby bump!  (Congratulations on your upcoming promotion to big brother status, Hudson!)

And just two weeks later, we packed up the car again and headed to New York for the fourth of July weekend, which we spent at my parents’ Adirondack camp.  Nothing better!

We hiked at Grafton State Park with my friend Christine (and Nugget tried to launch one of the rescue kayaks).

Climbed our third Adirondack high peak.

Took the kayak out for a paddle on the Sacandaga… (#paddlethedacks)

Sailed with my cousin Jocelyn and some family friends…

Rambunctiously wished America a happy birthday…

And stared in awe at a golden Adirondack sunset.

The very next weekend, we spent the day at a motor sports park in West Virginia watching Steve race a Porsche supercar around their track – his “big” Christmas present from 2016.  He absolutely loved it – and so did Nugget, who has proudly been telling everyone we meet that his daddy drives race cars.

We kept the paddling fun coming at Fletcher’s Cove – now that we knew the kids could be trusted to duff, there was no keeping us off the water!

And – kuplink, kuplank, kuplunk! – we picked blueberries at Butler’s Orchard in Germantown, Maryland…

Which were later turned into pie.

We swam in the community pool a lot.

And then we flew to California for the wedding of a dear friend, followed by a family reunion!

We had some epic adventures (stories continue every Friday!)…

And flew home over the Grand Canyon.

We visited with our heroes.

And we bid farewell to summer from the sunflower fields.

Bon voyage, summer of ’17!  You’ve been sun-baked and sweet.  And now, fall, you can start anytime.

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California Dreaming 2017: Beach, Botanic Gardens, and Birthday

On Peanut’s fifth birthday, we woke up with two thoughts on our minds: (1) give the birthday girl ALL the snuggles; and (2) watch the solar eclipse!  Santa Barbara was nowhere near the path of totality, but we still wanted to tune in for the show that all of America was going crazy for.  So we swiped my Uncle Peter’s eclipse glasses (he was out at Channel Islands with my brother and sister-in-law) and headed for Goleta Beach, the nearest sandy spot to my Uncle Peter and Aunt Kathy’s home.

It was a pretty cool show!  Even though it was only a partial eclipse where we were, Steve and I both enjoyed peering through the eclipse glasses.  The birthday girl, predictably, wanted nothing to do with the eclipse.

Little bro took a look for a minute, but I don’t know how much he really saw.  He shoved the glasses off his face and asked to walk the pier instead.  Okay, little guy – you win!

We walked all the way out to the end of the Goleta Pier and looked back over the water at the pretty palm trees and the gorgeous mountains in the background.  It was a cloudy morning – but that can be better for beaching it with little ones; less worry about them turning into little lobsters.

We had a nice morning digging in the sand and climbing the rocks, then headed back to my aunt and uncle’s house for lunch.  After an aborted naptime attempt, we were out the door to our afternoon activity.  When planning the trip, I knew I wanted to do something extra-special on Peanut’s birthday – something that would reflect my favorite girl and her interests.  She loves gardening and flowers, and Santa Barbara has a stunning botanic garden – so that’s where we went!

I’ve been to the Santa Barbara Botanic Garden before, but not for about twenty years.  I remembered the beautiful pathways through the meadow, and the cool desert garden…

…but somehow, I’d forgotten the absolutely incredible mountain setting.  The Botanic Gardens were tucked into a hillside and nestled amongst Santa Barbara’s stunning mountains.  How did I not remember this amazing scenery?  (Well, I was fifteen at the time, and responsible for not losing my ten-year-old cousin Jessica – I was the summer childcare arrangement – which was a tall order.  So I guess I was focused on more important things than mountains at the time.)

We meandered through the meadow exhibit first, and I couldn’t stop gushing over the craggy mountains surrounding us.

Met a new friend…

This little guy was smaller than the lizards we saw in Joshua Tree, but no less fascinating!

Peanut found a pond – still her favorite ecosystem!  Some things never change.

After a good ramble around the meadows, we headed down into a ravine to explore the redwood section.  As we walked past the sign, we saw trees towering with their canopies seventy feet above us, just off to our left.  Steve remarked that he was thinking those were pretty tall trees, but nothing that impressive, until he realized that they were growing up from the ravine floor, some 100 feet below.

We strolled down a beautiful path through the stand of California redwoods – another part of the garden I had forgotten from my last visit.  So unbelievably gorgeous!

Beautiful and serene.

After we got our fill of the redwoods we headed back up to explore more of the hillside.

Nugget and I checked out the cactus garden – always one of my favorite spots in any botanic garden.  And then we set off in search of a hidden treasure Steve had heard was tucked away in a corner of the gardens.

Walked past the potting sheds – so pretty and picturesque.

Down a pretty path, through a less-traveled section of the garden, all the way to…

A Japanese tea house, originally built in Kyoto and reassembled painstakingly in Santa Barbara!  According to the garden’s brochure, it is still used for tea ceremonies.  But on the day we visited, it was shut up tightly.  Still such a treat to see.

We had one more stop to make in the garden – a new nature center that was built recently (so, long after my fuzzily-remembered last visit).

Crossed the street and ascended a mountain path – the Santa Barbara Botanic Gardens delivered some great hiking!  Up to the nature center, which was closed, but that was fine – we were really there for the view.  This view:

Whoa.  And also this one, too:

Can you believe this place is real?  It’s like something from a beautiful dream.

The hills are aliiiiiiiiiiiiiiive…

Oh, my little loves.  Never a dull moment.

After spending a good half hour running on the lawn, rolling in the grass and gawking at the view, it was time to head back down the hillside for dinner.  Check out that view on the way down!  How many hikes deliver those kind of wonders?  We will definitely be back.

Still reeling from the beauty of the Botanic Gardens, we drove down out of the mountains and into Santa Barbara proper, to meet the rest of the family for Peanut’s birthday dinner.  I had to browbeat everyone a little bit, but I managed to drag the entire family together – my parents, Dan and Danielle, my Uncle Peter and Aunt Kathy, and my cousin Jessica – at a beachfront restaurant in downtown SB.

We were early, so we got to explore the beautiful boardwalk and bike trail area, and to spend some time watching the skateboarders riding in the oceanside skate park.  Nugget was completely fascinated, and Peanut wanted to know where the girl skateboarders were.  (Her first feminist moment?)

Anyway, we had a lovely short walk taking in the beach and ocean and mountain scenery.  Santa Barbara is so gorgeous!  And then, it was time for dinner.

Our group was so big, I couldn’t get everyone in the frame!  Nugget – Peanut – Nana – Aunt Kathy – Uncle Peter – Dan – Danielle (blocked from view) – Jessica – Steve – Grandad.  And Mom behind the lens, as always.

Okay, there they all are.

Nugget made the rounds of the table, and also twisted every single adult arm into accompanying him to view the big aquarium by the hostess station.

But don’t worry – he was back for cake.  The restaurant kindly gifted Peanut with a gigantic slice of mud pie (which was actually the world’s most delicious coffee ice cream confection) and the whole table shared it – after she blew out her candle and made her five-year-old wish, of course.

Happy birthday, one more time, my girl!  I hope you had a great day.  We sure do love you!

 

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Summer Sunflowers

Way back this past spring, when we picked tulips at Burnside Farms, I made a mental note of the farm’s Summer of Sunflowers event.  I wasn’t sure if we would make it out to Haymarket over the summer – even as early as Easter, our summer calendar was filling up.  But I kept the event on my radar just in case it worked out, and as it happened, we had a gorgeous day and an open calendar on Labor Day Monday.  So – off to Haymarket we went, in search of some summer sunflowers!

I was determined to get a few clicks in with my camera.  There is nothing in this world that annoys my children more than when Mom pulls out the dSLR!  But I insisted and made it as quick as possible, and then Nugget was released to the bounce house and Peanut to the sunflower fields, while I followed close behind with the camera still clicking.  (You never know when that perfect Christmas card shot is going to present itself…)

The sunflowers were planted in rows in the same field where we’d picked tulips, and it was absolutely glorious.

I want them allllllllllll…

Each family got one basket to fill with as many sunflowers as they wanted.  Peanut chose the basket, as she did when we picked tulips.  I think she made her decision solely based on which basket would make the best necklace.

Anyway, we made our way through the fields, Peanut pointing out the flowers she wanted and me clipping the chosen blooms with the snips the farm provided.  We each had our minor freak-out moments – me over a butterfly (shudder) and Peanut over a fly that she mistakenly believed to be a bee.  I like to think that I was the more stoic one of the two of us.  (I really was.  Peanut dramatically tried to collapse in the middle of the sunflowers and I had to hold her upright for several minutes, repeating “It’s not a bee.  It’s not a bee.” until she finally snapped out of it and got back to picking.)

Caught her looking.

Eventually the boys joined us again and we picked more blooms as a family.

It’s possible we went a little overboard.  There were just so many beautiful blooms!

 

 

Eventually we got all of our flowers safely back to the tent for processing.  We trimmed the stems, got them in water and paid for them, then were on our way – but not without a quick detour…

 

Every.  Single.  Time.

Brought our blooms home and they’ve been brightening up the kitchen in my favorite vase (a wedding present which has amazingly surprised twelve years of house-moving and kid abuse).

Such a gorgeous day, and a perfect way to bid farewell to summer!  Thanks for the basket of sunshine, Burnside Farms!

Have you ever picked your own flowers?

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California Dreaming 2017 AND 12 Months of Trails: Joshua Tree National Park (August 2017)

Get ready for a massive photobomb of a hiking recap!  When we decided to make California our family vacation for the year, I knew immediately that I wanted to hit the trails and explore another national park or two.  Some quality time spent on nps.gov narrowed the candidates down, and when I checked my schedule I decided that it made sense to include Joshua Tree National Park in our itinerary for the trip.  To be honest, I wasn’t expecting to be blown away by Joshua Tree.  Of course, I know that any park that has achieved National Park status has been elevated for a reason, so I was sure it would be wonderful.  But my uncle – who lives in California – had sort of downplayed it and I had the idea that Joshua Tree would be one of those places I’d be glad to have visited once, but not feel compelled to return to again and again.

Then I stepped out of the car.

I’d been getting more and more excited as we drove into the desert, and I almost flew out the window when we spotted the first Joshua tree by the side of the road.  But still, I was unprepared for how immediately and completely the desert landscape would grab ahold of my heart and imagination, just feet from the park gate.

I had planned out two short hikes for us to do in the park (and immediately wished we had time for more, and to stay the night – I’m sure the stars are incredible over the desert).  Without skipping a beat, we sunscreened up, collected the kids’ Junior Ranger workbooks, and headed off to our first hike.

Barker Dam is a 1.1 mile loop hike that hits some of the highest points of scenery in the park – historic old structures, sweeping mountain vistas, interesting rock formations, prehistoric petroglyphs, and a veritable forest of Joshua trees.

Yes, I did dress him in that “National Park Explorer” t-shirt on purpose.  Thank you for asking.

We headed down the trail as both kids snacked on applesauce pouches (don’t worry, we packed out all of our trash – leave no trace!).  Just as I was starting to wonder how long this hike was going to take with four little feet on the trail, Nugget asked for “uppy.”  Phew!  Fortunately, I was prepared with my hiking backpack; we’d left Steve’s back in Virginia.

Steve and Peanut continued down the trail ahead of us, keeping a careful watch for flora and fauna to record in Peanut’s Junior Ranger booklet.  Nugget asked me if he could climb the rocks.  I promised to bring him back someday, so we could climb them together.  (And instantly started planning to enroll him in a kids’ climbing course at EarthTreks just as soon as he’s old enough.)

I was in awe of the incredibly cool rock formations, myself – and of the incredible diversity of the desert foliage.  We were really there for the Joshua trees, of course, but we kept an eye out for beautiful cacti, junipers, and other desert plants.  We saw a lot!

So many cool and interesting plants!  Eventually, we climbed through a narrow and technical pass and found ourselves at Barker Dam – the historical landmark for which the hike was named.  It was cool to see one of the oldest structures in the park – but even cooler was the incredible mountain vista beyond it.

Oh, California, you have stolen my heart!

At this point, Steve suggested we “make it an out and back.”  I was reluctant to turn back and see the same scenery over that we had already been through.  We asked a couple of hikers who were doing the loop trail in reverse how it was in the direction from which they’d come, and they assured us that once we got down out of the narrow path, it would be smooth sailing.  We took their word for it, descended some rock stairs, and found that they’d told the truth – the rest of the trail was flat, easy, and completely different from the rock formations we’d been seeing.  Now, we were completely surrounded by the park’s namesake Joshua trees!

I just couldn’t get enough of them.  I knew what Joshua trees were and how they got their name, and I thought they’d be fine but nothing Earth-shattering.  I was completely wrong!  Around every corner, I found myself gasping at new visual splendors.

I was a broken record, but I couldn’t stop stammering out how beautiful this park is.  Joshua trees, as far as the eye can see!  Eventually, we finished the hike – but not before checking out some ancient petroglyphs for one more treat.  Throughout the hike, I had been reminding my companions to “keep your eyes open for rock art!”  As I hiked along, I carefully inspected each boulder for signs of ancient civilization.  Turns out, I could have saved my time and squints, because the park helpfully placed a sign on the trail reading “Petroglyphs 0.3” – well, that was easy!

So amazingly cool.  Peanut approved.

From Barker Dam, we headed to our second hike of the park – Hidden Valley.  (Yes, I thought of ranch dressing.)  The Hidden Valley trail is also about a 1-mile loop, bringing our total mileage to just over two miles for the day – pretty good for an almost-five-year-old.  Peanut was a champ throughout both hikes, and I was so proud of her.  She was inspiring everyone on the trail, and more than one group decided to press on and finish their hikes as we came through with our preschooler on foot and toddler in a backpack.

Anyway, before setting off on the Hidden Valley trail, we reapplied sunscreen, had a quick snack, and Peanut worked on her Junior Ranger book – she had some drawing activities to do – at the picnic tables while Nugget and I gawked at the view across the road (above).

Let’s do the thing!

Hidden Valley was a totally different landscape.  In 1910, an explorer had blasted a hole in a large boulder and slipped through to find a paradise never before seen by human eyes – a hidden valley, lush with all kinds of desert foliage.  It’s still pretty much unspoilt, and a completely different landscape from the Barker Dam hike.  I couldn’t believe how varied the topography was inside the park.

Nugget was chomping at the bit to climb these mountains.  He takes after his mom.

We were keeping our eyes open for cool wildlife throughout both hikes, and we finally saw a little friend.  See him sunning himself?

No?  How about now?

I just couldn’t get enough of Joshua Tree National Park, and I’m so glad we made time for it!

After leaving the park, we stopped at the visitors’ center and collected the kids’ Junior Ranger badges – their first! – and I think I was even more excited than they were.  They were both conked out while we presented our booklets and got their badges, and the park ranger took one look at them – Peanut passed out in Steve’s arms, and Nugget in mine – and deadpanned, “They have to be awake to take the oath.”  Ha!  They very nicely gave us the badges for both kids without making them wake up, and even though Nugget was technically too young (every park’s program is different, but Joshua Tree’s starts at age 4).  The kids were proud and delighted when I showed them their badges later, and have insisted on wearing them regularly so that family and friends can marvel at their accomplishment.

Joshua Tree National Park, you were a delight from the first moment to the last, and I can’t wait to visit again!

What’s your favorite national park?  Shenandoah still has my heart, but Joshua Tree was a joy.

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Garden Update: The Slightly Tart Edition (August 2017)

Time for another garden update!  Things are continuing pretty much along the same trends I’ve been reporting all season.  If you’ve missed my previous garden posts, here they are:

The Early Bird Catches the Rosemary (April 2017)

Garden Update: The Don’t Be Like Me Edition (May 2017)

Garden Update: The Good News and Bad News Edition (June 2017)

Garden Update: The I Have Questions Edition (July 2017)

Bringing us to today!  The tomato plants are still producing, I’m watching like a hawk to stay ahead of the squirrels (I saw one perched on my fence rail the other day, brazenly eating a ripe tomato as the kids and I watched in outrage from the kitchen window) and the basil is basically a tree.

We’re actually on top of the tomato harvest, thanks in large part to – yes, the squirrels – but also to a little boy who cannot get enough tomatoes eaten straight off the vine.  I love that he’s so into the food we’re growing – Peanut is happy to participate in the gardening process, but wants nothing to do with a sun-warmed tomato, freshly plucked straight from the pot.  Break my heart.  Anyway, at the moment we’ve got a big crop-in-waiting, but nothing ripe.  But recently I picked a huge harvest, and it was more than we could eat out of hand (yessssss!) so I cooked the tomatoes down in a little organic olive oil and fresh herbs (also from the garden) – rosemary, thyme, parsley and basil, and set the mixture aside for a special project.

As longtime readers know, Peanut just had a birthday!  Stick with me here.  One of her favorite things to do – aside from garden (and watch cartoons) – is bake with me.  So as a special birthday present, I ordered her a personalized kids’ apron and “Junior Chef” tools from Williams-Sonoma.  I let her open the gift early so she could use it to help me make a tomato-and-herb tart from the garden haul.

She was quite pleased with her new chef accoutrements!  She insisted I call her “Chef Lily.”  I pointed out that that’s not what her apron says, but she was unmoved.

As fun as it was to bake a blueberry pie with Peanut, I didn’t feel like messing around with pastry this time, so I decided we would make a crumb crust using Ritz crackers.  My cracker/cookie crusts never come out, but who cares – right?  It’s about the process.  Peanut enjoyed the heck out of the cracker crumbling.

So did someone else.  Yikes.  Who gave him a Junior Chef spatula?

Crumbs completed, it was time to stir in melted butter and pre-bake the crust, then move on to the rest of the baking process.

Doesn’t get fresher than this – picked moments before the chopping.  I love gardening!

Mixed in mascarpone… And at this point, I forgot to take any more pictures, because Nana and Grandad FaceTimed us and we were chattering while we baked.  We mixed the herbs and a little olive oil into the mascarpone, spread it over the pre-baked crust, and then distributed the pre-cooked garden tomato and herb mixture over the top.  The finished product:

Not too bad looking!  Peanut is a good sous-chef – or maybe I’m the sous-chef, because she seems to be the one doing all the work!  As with the blueberry pie, she participated actively in pretty much every stage of baking.  All I did was the hot stuff (taking the tart out of the oven, and of course cooking down the tomatoes a few days ahead).  I love that we have an activity to do together that we both enjoy so much!

And the verdict?  The adults love it.  The crust hung together better than I was expecting, and the creamy herbed mascarpone is a perfect counterpoint to the flavorful garden tomato jam.  The kiddo… not as big of a fan.  I think she was expecting it to be sweet – even though I told her several times that it’s not sweet – and was surprised by the savory flavor.  Well, I wasn’t actually expecting her to eat any of this one – as long as she had fun with the process, I’m happy!

What’s your favorite thing to bake with summer produce?

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Duffing in D.C.

As my friends no doubt know, I am an avid kayaker.  I’ve loved the sport since I got my first kayak, when I was fifteen years old, and Steve is into it too.  Together we’ve kayaked down the Potomac past the monuments, through Blackwater National Wildlife Refuge, and around the Adirondack lake where my parents have their camp.  But in recent years, it’s been harder to get out, because – well, for obvious reasons.  And if you’ve been reading here for awhile, you’ve certainly seen me write wistfully of my kayak and of happy hours spent gliding along the water, and days I thought were long gone in light of my two little non-swimming munchkins.

That dim outlook on kayaking, I am glad to report, no longer holds true!  Over the Fourth of July weekend, I took both kids out for a spin around the Sacandaga, and they did so well in the kayak that I returned to D.C. determined to seek out the best family-friendly paddling options around the DMV (District, Maryland, Virginia – for the uninitiated).  A quick spin of the Google machine led me to Kid Friendly D.C. and their excellent paddling resources.  On their advice, one sunny Saturday, we headed into D.C. to check out Fletcher’s Cove.

Fletcher’s Cove is part of the C&O Canal National Historical Park, which is managed by the National Park Service.  Before reading the Kid Friendly D.C. posts, I’d never heard of it – and I was really missing out.  You can rent canoes, kayaks and rowboats, and the park is conveniently located on the C&O Canal towpath and near bike trails.

After some confusion at the entrance, we found parking and headed across a cute little bridge into the park.

The process of renting a kayak was as simple as could be.  We filled out a short waiver form, let the guys working the rental kiosk know we wanted single kayaks for about an hour, grabbed our paddles and life jackets, and we were on our way.

I was glad they allowed us to rent single kayaks.  Both of the kids were duffing, which is paddling lingo for riding along without helping (but hopefully also without hindering).  Most duffing families were renting double kayaks, and seating the paddler in the back and the duffer in the front.  But since our munchkins can’t swim, we wanted them within arms reach – in our laps, really.  The staff at Fletcher’s Cove totally got it, and since the kids are so tiny, they let us forego the double kayaks.  (Although we may change up the arrangement on our next excursion – read on.)

Down to the dock, and ready to go!

Fletcher’s was perfect for paddling with young kids.  Just upriver from Georgetown, it’s in a quiet and sheltered spot, where the current isn’t too strong and the water is peaceful.  Our first paddling excursion was on a very warm and not-too-breezy day, so we saw a lot of like-minded folks out on the river.  Plenty of families were out enjoying the morning together in kayaks, rowboats and canoes, and we also spotted fishermen in boats and on shore, and even a few hikers on trails just next to the river.

Such a gorgeous day.

I loved looking around at the beautiful riverbanks, but of course the best view is always this one:

That’s a happy little duffer!

Peanut rode along with Steve and I’d say she enjoyed the outing, too.  She was a bit apprehensive about the plan until she learned that she wouldn’t have to paddle – ha!  She spent the entire paddle kicked back with her sunhat and shades on, reclining on her Daddy.  Bit of a diva?

Over in my boat, I was having a different experience from Steve.  Far from reclining and soaking up the summer sun, my duffer was eager to help – to the point of snatching my paddle and demanding his turn to “drive.”

We spent a lot of time going in circles.

While Nugget and I lagged behind, zig-zagging along and arguing over the paddle, Steve and Peanut were zipping on ahead.  Eventually Nugget and I caught up.

We made it all the way to the Chain Bridge, which is the boundary beyond which the Fletcher’s kayaks are not permitted to go, then turned back and headed for the dock to turn our boats in.

Saw some gorgeous rock formations on the way back!

Waved goodbye to the piles of canoes on our way out…

Happy days.

I was so glad that kayaking worked out!  I have missed being out on the water more than I can tell you – it felt wonderful to not only be back in a kayak, but to be sharing one of my favorite water sports with my three favorites.  We were slow, and we didn’t go very far, but I think Steve and I were grinning the entire time; we were just so happy to be out there.

 

So happy, indeed, that we were back at Fletcher’s just a couple of weeks later to go out again.  We would have loved to kayak every weekend, but weather and other plans intervened – but we were back at the dock as soon as the circumstances allowed us to be.

(Worth noting – Fletcher’s, and in fact all of the D.C. boathouses, have life jackets available from infants on up.  We brought our own, but borrowing is certainly an option if your kiddos don’t have PFDs.)

Everybody into the boats!  Peanut did really well with standing on the dock and waiting patiently until it was time for her to clamber into Steve’s lap.

We both got flame-colored kayaks the second time!  So pretty.  And nice, because it was a grey day and the bright kayaks were a beautiful counterpoint to the muted river and sky colors all around us.

Same experience the second time around…

Steve’s duffer enjoyed reclining gracefully against his life jacket while he paddled unencumbered.  (He did say that she put his leg to sleep, though.  So we may try out a double kayak for Daddy Team next time.)

While mine insisted on “helping” the entire time.

One last treat as we turned into the cove – a couple of ducks!  Nugget spotted them first and was so excited I thought he might try to join them in the water.

Thanks for a perfect couple of mornings on the water, Fletcher’s!  We’re going to try to come back a few more times before the kayak rental shop closes up for the season.  It’s such a delight to know that we can enjoy one of our favorite activities again, with our two little duffers along for the ride.

Are you a kayaker?

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It’s About the Journey: In Praise of Peakbagging

Peakbagging.  When you mention that you’re into it, you are almost guaranteed to get one of three responses:

  • That’s so cool!  Which mountains?
  • What on earth are you even talking about?
  • Oh, peakbagging.  No, thanks.  I hike because I love nature, not to check things off a list.

I count myself lucky that I’ve never gotten response number three.  As luck would have it, pretty much everyone I know either has no idea what peakbagging is, or they are themselves peakbaggers.

To start with a definition, for my non-mountain-chasing friends, peakbagging is a crazy hobby involving challenging oneself to summit every mountain on a particular list.  Think Colorado 14ers.  South Beyond 6000.  Fire Tower Challengers.  Saranac 6ers.

Adirondack 46rs.

I’ve mentioned before that Steve and I are very, very slowly working our way through the Adirondack 46.  So far, we’ve been at it for three years and we’ve summited three peaks: Cascade and Porter, and Giant.  At the rate we’re going, we will finish in 2060.  (We’ll have to step up the pace at some point.)  I suppose we could have started with a kinder, gentler peakbagging chase, like the Saranac 6 or the Fire Tower Challenge.  But go big or go home, right?  And the Adirondack 46 is definitely going big.

So, like I said, I’ve been lucky enough not to run into the anti-peakbagging crowd.  I have hiking friends who aren’t interested in bagging peaks, but they don’t look down their nose at the pursuit, either.  And I have several friends and relatives who’ve already finished the Adirondack 46 or are well on their way (and considerably further ahead than Steve and I are).  But there is a contingent that likes to sniff and act superior.  Or at least I’m told they’re out there.

As I understand it, the anti-peakbagging argument is that hiking should be about communing with nature and growing as a person and celebrating the journey and all of those worthy pursuits, and treating mountains like bullet-points to be checked off is disrespectful or amateurish or something along those lines.  To which I say: pffffft.

There are lots of good lists of reasons why peakbagging is cool.  (A moment’s appreciation for the splendid irony of defending hiking-by-list with… another list.)  My favorite is this one from SectionHiker.  I’m not going to make a list, even though that’s amazing.  Instead, I want to respond to the “it’s about the journey, not the destination” critique of the peakbagging pursuit.

Peakbagging is about the journey.  It’s about deciding to do something big and audacious and then trying, maybe failing, bouncing back, learning as you go, and descending every peak a different person than the one who signed in at the trail register.

It’s about building endurance, starting with the “friendliest” mountain and working your way up to the biggest, baddest summit in your sights.  It’s about brushing off the naysayers and believing in your own capabilities.  (If someone asks you “are you sure you can…” – well, no one’s ever sure they can climb a mountain.  You have good days and bad days and the mountain has something to say about whether you’re summiting or not, too.  But you can give it your best effort and you can ignore the negative voices, whether they’re in your head or outside of you.  As long as you’re smart.)

It’s about views and burning quads and scrambling over granite slabs and climbing waterfalls and calling it Saturday.

Peakbagging is about having the guts to go exploring in the great unknown.  And no, you don’t need a list to go hiking.  (Most of my hikes are not Adirondack high peaks.)  But when you decide to work toward a huge goal, it can’t be about anything but the journey.  Because you’ll reach the destination once – eventually – but you’ll be on the path for a long time before you get there.

Are you a peakbagger?

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Happy Birthday, ADK!

Happy belated birthday to my favorite state park!  The original Adirondack Park was created on May 20, 1892, when New York State Governor Roswell P. Flower (yes, really) carved out protection for 2.8 million acres of the North Country.  The park has more than doubled in size since then, and now covers some six million acres.  It also contains some of my favorite places in the world.

The Great Sacandaga Lake is just “inside the blue line,” as New Yorkers refer to the Adirondack Park.  It’s one of the largest lakes in the park and is located in the southernmost corner of the protected area.

I basically grew up on the Sacandaga – sailing, paddling, swimming, running and playing.  I pretty much had the ideal childhood, and the Sacandaga was a huge part of it.

Not far from the Sacandaga – Lake George!  Lake George is one of the iconic Adirondack places, and it’s awash in beauty.

So many Adirondack icons can be found here.  Like the Sagamore Resort…

And the Minne-ha-ha…

I have fond memories of cruising Lake George on the Minne-ha-ha with my grandparents.  And last summer, my friend Seth and I got up close and personal with it – in kayaks!

Lake George is not “my” lake, the way the Sacandaga is – but it’s still special to me.  It’s where I enjoyed my first ice cream cone (I don’t remember this, but my parents love telling the story), the scene of many wanderings with high school and college friends, and a favorite day trip from Albany.

More recently, Steve and I have fallen in love with the high peaks region.  In this section of the park, most of the 4,000+ foot mountains cluster – beckoning climbers, trekkers and day-hikers alike.  So far, we’ve climbed three of them.  Progress toward becoming 46rs is sloooooooow.  But it’s about the journey, not the destination.

Cascade and Porter.

Giant.

There are so many Adirondack places I’d like to explore.  We haven’t even scratched the surface of all the iconic spots in the park – there’s the rest of the 46 to explore, for one thing, and the quintessential Adirondack non-high peak hikes, like Indian Head and Mount Jo.  There’s Lake Placid, which has always been a special place for me – for kayaking in the summer and fall, and skiing Whiteface in winter – but to which Steve has never been.  There are childhood places I visited with my grandparents – like Blue Mountain Lake – that I haven’t seen in decades.  There are new challenges to tackle, like the Saranac 6 and the Fire Tower Challenge, and waters to explore, like the St. Regis Canoe Area and Tupper Lake.  We could spend a lifetime combing the park and never uncover all of its secrets – and we live hours and hours away.  But no matter how far we live, we’ll always keep coming back to these places.

All that is to say, happy, happy, happy birthday to the ADK.  You’re a gift to the world and you’ve been a gift to me all my life.

What’s your favorite state park?

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Blueberry Babies

As you know if you’ve been reading my blog for a hot second, I love taking my kids to pick-your-own farms.  Apple-picking and berry-picking was something I did with my grandparents when I was a kid, and I cherish those memories – of hours spent in the strawberry fields, filling up flats with my grandmother, and then taking my fruit home to bake something special with her.  I have always known that I would carry the tradition on with my kids, and at two and four, they’re old hands in the orchards and fruit fields.

There are so many picking options in the summer – it’s hard to know where to start!  Pick-your-own flowers are a thing here, and there’s a place to pick any kind of fruit or vegetable that interests you.  We missed strawberry season again (every year) but blueberries were still an option, so I declared last Saturday blueberry picking day.  I love picking blueberries with the kiddos – they’re not ready for the blackberry and raspberry brambles, but blueberries are a perfect choice.  No thorns, growing in thick clusters on high bushes – it’s as if someone designed blueberries to be harvested by toddlers.

Longtime readers may recall that I loved picking blueberries at Awald Farms when we lived in New York.  For our first blueberry season in the D.C. area, I hoped to find something just as good.  I considered a few options in Loudoun County, but we always seem to go out there and I was in the mood for something different, so I was definitely interested when I found Butler’s Orchard, a family-owned farm in Germantown, Maryland.  I tossed out the idea of blueberry picking at Butler’s while discussing a playdate with one of the other moms from Peanut’s school, and she was into the idea.  So on Saturday, we met up with C and her mom for some pick-your-own fun.

There was a big, beautiful farm stand right at the entrance to the farms.  We stopped inside to pick up our buckets (they had other places to pick up picking containers as well, but we wanted to get the lowdown and check out the market too).  There were plenty of other fruits and vegetables for sale, plus a kids’ area with toys and books, some berry-themed home décor items, and prepared foods and pantry goodies.  Plus…

PIE!  Heck yeah!

After picking up our buckets, we hopped back in the cars and drove to the fields.  After only one wrong turn, we found the blueberry fields.  Although the sign warned that the picking was “scattered” because it was the end of the season (note: why can I never seem to keep track of when the picking season is, for anything?) we found that there were still plenty of blueberries and we had no trouble finding lots of fruit left on the bushes.

Is there anything prettier than blueberries on the bush?  I don’t think so!

The crew got right down to business.  Daddy and Nugget started picking and Peanut tested the merchandise.  Nugget needed a bit of explanation but he seemed to grasp the berry-picking concept pretty readily.  (It’s not his first rodeo…)  And there was only one berry-flinging incident.

Rows and rows of beautiful berries!

I loved Butler’s Orchard!  I don’t think I’d ever been to this corner of Maryland before – it was so beautiful.  Lovely rolling hills and lush greenery – reminded me of the Hudson Valley, near where I grew up.

Peanut and her little pal had a great time picking berries and chattering away, and I had a similarly great time picking berries and catching up with the other mom.  We vented about work, talked about plans for the next school year, and traded ideas about Christmas traditions.  (Never too early.)

I’m not sure where the boys were – probably in the parking lot, greeting the trucks – but the girls had a grand time.

Eventually, we all agreed that the sun was baking and it was time to find shade and call it a day on the picking.  We both ended up with slightly less than half of our buckets filled.  But considering the sad little handful of berries I got last year (when I spent the entire time chasing Nugget away from the cars) we did very well indeed.  Our haul:

Blueberries all freshly picked by Peanut and me!  (The peaches were from the farmstand.  And unpictured – I obviously also bought the kids books: a berry counting book for Nugget and a garden science book for Peanut.)

So, what to do with all of these berries?  My plan was to shove them in our mouths by the handful, but Peanut had a better idea.

PIE!  We pulled up a recipe online (actually cobbled it together between Martha Stewart and Ina Garten) and got to work.  Peanut helped out with pretty much every stage of the baking!  (Nugget was a liability.)

She was so excited to be baking like a big kid.  I had to drive the ship, of course, but she surprised me by doing a great job following my directions.  Now I want to make baking with her a regular activity!

The final product looked pretty fabulous, if I do say so myself.  And it tasted fabulous, too…

We’ve definitely redeemed ourselves after The Great Gingerbread Fail of 2016.  Kuplink, kuplank, kuplunk, my friends!

Do you like to go berry-picking?

 

 

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12 Months of Trails: Giant Mountain, An Adirondack High Peak (July 2017)

Waaaaaaaay back in the day, when Steve and I were first discussing moving to Buffalo, I told him that if we were going to be New Yorkers again, I wanted to work on the goal of becoming Adirondack 46rs.  46rs are a particularly insane group of peakbaggers; you earn the title when you have summited (and then descended) all forty-six of the high peaks in the Adirondack Park.  The high peaks are defined as mountains with an elevation over 4,000 feet (although the measurements were taken over a century ago and aren’t completely accurate – there are a couple of peaks that are shy of the 4,000 mark, and at least one that wasn’t included on the list when it should have been; 46rs are a tradition-loving bunch and so they’ve stuck with the original list).

Well, as my longtime reader/friends may recall, Steve and I made a start at chipping away at the list back in 2014, when we climbed Cascade and Porter in the same day.  (Not the crazy endeavor it sounds; there are a few high peaks that can be strung together for the chance to knock off two in a day, and neighbors Cascade and Porter are on that list.)  We had a great time on those peaks, learned some helpful lessons, and descended ready to take on our next Adirondack adventure sooner than later.  Of course, you know what happened – I found out that I was pregnant (and in fact, I had been pregnant when we climbed the peaks; I just didn’t know it!).  Scaling mountains took a backseat to pregnancy and then parenting another newborn, and next thing we knew, we were moving back to Northern Virginia with only two of the 46 peaks done.

But we’re still in upstate NY fairly regularly to visit my parents – in fact, we probably make the trip from D.C. to Albany just as often as we made the trip from Buffalo.  So why not keep working on the list?  I figured the Fourth of July weekend was a good opportunity to knock another mountain off the list – after all, it had been Fourth of July weekend when we climbed Cascade and Porter three years ago.  So I asked my parents if they would watch the kids one day so Mom and Dad could escape to the ‘dacks for an adventure.  They said of course, and at 3:45 a.m. our alarms went off for the trip into the park.  We drove through the sunrise and some weird walls of fog, and by 6:30 a.m. Steve was signing us into the trail register for our chosen peak – Giant Mountain.

Ready to go!

Giant’s original name was Giant of the Valley – I love the poetry of that.  (In my head, that’s still its name.)  At 4,627 feet tall, it’s the twelfth highest peak in the park – quite a bit taller than Cascade and Porter, the 36th and 38th highest respectively.  It’s also the tallest peak in its immediate vicinity, and it looms over the entire Keene Valley.

The Trail

One of the things I always want to know when I am reading blog recaps to plan Adirondack hikes is – what’s the trail like?  Adirondack trails run the gamut from smooth and maintained to boulders all the way up.  But blogs never seem to share what I think is pretty pertinent information.  Perhaps you’re just supposed to assume that all high peaks hiking is going to be mostly scrambling over huge masses of granite.  (That would be a safe assumption.  But I like to know.)

So, there was a lot of bouldering and a lot of scrambling.  It’s the ‘dacks, after all – comes with the territory.  But one thing Steve and I kept discussing, all the way up Giant, was how much better the trail was than the trail up Cascade.  There were stretches of actual! maintained! trail!, and the bouldering sections were broken up with recovery stretches in between.  It was a completely different hiking experience from Cascade, and we agreed that we far-and-away preferred Giant.

I mean, sure, there was some of this.  That’s the trail?  Yeah, get used to it.

There were also a lot of switchbacks.  Giant is a popular mountain, but it’s definitely not everyone’s favorite.  One of the complaints I heard from multiple people about Giant is that there’s really no warm-up; you get out of the car and you start climbing, and you don’t stop climbing until you summit.  The reason Giant is popular is the relatively short distance of the trail – only about three miles to the summit.  But that short distance also means that it’s all climbing.  We knew that going in, which probably helped.

The Conditions

Remember how last week I told you that Grafton was muddy?  Well, that should have tipped us off that we were in for a wet time of it on Giant the next day.  (Of course it didn’t, because we are slow learners.)  And man alive, was that trail wet.

Had to climb up that thing!  Steeper than it looks!

So, I don’t mind getting dirty on a hike, and I certainly don’t care about a little thing like mud on my hiking boots.  I could happily slosh through puddles – and I did.  (Oh, and by the way, I was wearing my Oboz Bridgewater BDry boots, and they kept my feet completely dry through the entire soppy day.  They were also popular choices on the trail; I saw three other women wearing them – all in the red color, too!  We exchanged the secret handshake.)

The thing with a wet day in the high peaks region is that because a lot of the hiking involves walking and scrambling over bald granite, if the rock is wet it can get slippery and treacherous fast.  I’m adventurous and generally up for pretty much anything, but I’m actually terrified of falling on ADK granite and tumbling down a long rock slide.  Hikers have died in the high peaks and it’s not something to play with.  So I was taking my time and going verrrrrry slowly over the exposed rock.  Steve said he thought I probably could have trusted my footing more, and I’m sure he was right.  But I’d rather take it slow than take a potentially devastating fall.

Here’s some extra-slick granite to climb!  Enjoy!

So, I’m selling this whole peakbagging thing really well, right?  I’ll bet you’re thinking – this sounds terrible.  Why would anyone do this?  Well – that picture, above, is why I do it.  First views, less than a third of the way up the mountain.  The magic of this park is this – it makes you feel so small, and yet wraps you up in something so big.

The Washbowl

After a little less than an hour of climbing, we came to a landmark that I’d been waiting impatiently to see for months – ever since we started planning the hike.  Giant’s Washbowl is a small but stunning pond that is perched right around the 2,300 foot mark on the slopes of Giant.

As we approached the pond, I literally gasped out loud.  It was more beautiful than anything I could have possibly imagined.

There was a super rustic bridge over the narrowest part of the pond – you could see the axe-marks in the logs.  Steve remarked, “That’s the most Adirondack bridge that was ever built.”

Just on the other side of the bridge was the perfect peaceful little rocky beach.  I rushed over and snapped a few dozen pictures.  I was in awe of the beauty all around me.

This was when Steve announced that he was going to hike “Ron Swanson-style” for the rest of the climb.  I asked him what that meant, and he said he was going to conserve energy by not smiling.  For the rest of the hike, we assumed our tired-hiker personas – he became more taciturn and grouchy and I matched him by being as annoyingly upbeat and positive as he was grumpy.  And in case you’re wondering, yes, I did call him “Ron” all day, and yes, he absolutely called me “Leslie.”

I reluctantly tore myself away from Giant’s Washbowl – heart burning with envy toward the lucky people who camp there – and we continued on with our climb.

The Views

One of the things I’d heard about Giant was that while it can be a bit of a beastly climb (although I didn’t find it all that bad on the way up – down was another story, though) the mountain more than makes up for your hard work by really delivering in the view department.  That turned out to be totally true.  There were multiple opportunities to stop and take it all in, and Steve/Ron was constantly hurrying me along because I/Leslie kept pausing to gape at the majesty around me.  The view above was my favorite – Giant’s Washbowl, from the vantage point of another 90 minutes or so of hiking.  I couldn’t believe that we had climbed all that way (and still had more to go – oof).

The Summit

After a little less than four hours of hiking, we found ourselves making the final push to the summit and our third Adirondack high peak.

Working hard, looking forward to celebrating on top of the world!

We came around a corner, felt the wind biting, and there it was:

The views were absolutely unreal.

I stood on the bare rock of the summit and felt like I wanted to say something to mark the moment, but there were no words.

We took off our packs and dug into our trail snacks – we were both feeling pretty hungry by this point.  We probably spent about an hour on the summit, soaking in the view, refueling, and celebrating our achievement.

Three peaks down!  And speaking of down…

The Descent

I’m weird.  I much prefer climbing to descending.  I never want to leave a summit because I know what’s ahead of me – a few hours of treacherous picking my way over exposed rock and rooty, bouldery trails – even on a good day, and as already established, the trail was muddy and slick.  I spent the next several hours nervously skidding down the mountain.  I did a lot of butt-sliding (the Adirondack butt slide, you guys – no shame) and a fair amount of whimpering.  No pictures, because I didn’t want my phone in my hand as I tried to survive the descent.  Eventually we made it back to the trailhead and our car.  I was elated and excited on top of the mountain, and totally spent on the bottom.

The Reward

Noon Mark Diner.  Blueberry pie.  (Oh, and dinner too – but look at that PIE!)  I kept expecting Luke Danes to come around the corner in his flannel shirt and backwards baseball cap and judge me for ordering a coffee at 4:00 p.m.  The waitress did seem a bit surprised by my order.  But I’m sure she could tell by the fact that I was covered in mud and looked a bit unhinged that I’d just come off some mountain or another.  And the fact was I had a bit of a dehydration headache – the coffee was necessary.

The Next One?

I studiously avoided mentioning more peaks to Steve for a few days after the hike, but I’m already whittling down a list of the next likely targets.  It probably won’t be until 2018, because I don’t think we have any plans to be in New York during the prime autumn hiking season, what with all of the other travel we have coming up.  But I can say for sure that there will be more peaks bagged – I think Phelps might be next, but we’ll have to wait and see.

Three peaks down!  What’s the toughest hike you’ve done recently?