Finishing the Year...

So our final park.  The cherry on our cake.  The icing on the sundae.  The feather in our crown.

When we were planning our getaway a number of years ago, the general idea was to tool around North America for a while and get a feel for how varied and wonderful our homeland is.  That sounds idyllic, but if one doesn't set goals for oneself, one will accomplish nothing.  Enter 2016.  The National Park Service announces a yearlong celebration of their centennial, having been established in 1916.  We had visited a number of parks previously and really felt they embodied everything great about the American outdoors.  We looked into the possibility of tying this into our trip.

A quick aside about National Parks.  They are just one of 18+ types of public lands administered by the NPS.  There are also National Historic Parks, National Monuments, National Battlefields, etc...
There are a total of 417 NPS public land sites.  Only 59 of those are designated National Parks, which takes an act of congress.  They embody natural beauty, unique geological features, unusual ecosystems, and recreational opportunities.  One could say they are the best of the best.

So 59 is close to 52, which is the number of weeks in a year... hrmm.  Hence '52 National Parks in 52 Weeks' was borne.  And entering our 52nd week, we drove across Thompson Island onto Mt. Desert Island. It was initially protected in 1919 as a monument, and gained its current name ten years later. This felt special to us, and in line with another NPS celebration (Aug. 25th in Voyageurs), and our terrible diet; we wanted to let the Rangers know how much we appreciated them via sugar.

Thankfully, we dropped the cake off prior the the memorial day rush.  The receiving ranger was quite pleased (who isn't with cake).  He thanked us, we spoke for a while about our story, and he took it off to the break room.  After, as we browsed the postcards and stickers, about to head off to our adventures, we were attacked.  Volunteers, Educational rangers, interpretive rangers, etc. they all came up to say hello to the cake bearers and express their thanks.  We had to fight back, we were supposed to be thanking them for the great job they do under 'budgetary uncertainty and lack of the current administrations support'.  [That is of course, not including the generous gift of $78,333 to help defer the $190,500,000 budget.]  We smiled for selfies with them, showed them our map, and swapped our park stories.  It was a feel good moment.  We said our goodbyes and proceeded to camp.

THE thing to do in Acadia, recommended by rangers and visitors, is to see sunrise from the top of Cadillac Mountain.  It is purportedly the first place the sun touches in the US.  So of course we find ourselves struggling out of the tent at 3:30 to hike from the campground.  Twenty minutes later, we were turning around, realizing we couldn't cover 4+ miles of rough New England terrain in a little over an hour.  So we drove.  And got to witness this:

After returning to camp to nap, we met up with previously mentioned climber Kate and her beau Toby.  When we hung out with Kate in Red River Gorge, conversation lead to how fate not only put her in the same park as us but at the same time too.  So what do we do?  Climb of course.  The Maine coast has some really cool sea cliff to run a pitch on.  The approach was gnarly.

It was quite a different setting from the normal rock climbing wall.  And we all got our turn.

Mucho divertido was had!  After it began to rain and a class of 12 showed up to the same face, we bailed.  We spent the evening in the town of Bar Harbor doing some beer and burgers.  (Just kidding, I had a wedge salad, gotta watch the waistline).  It's a lovely little tourist town.  We said goodbye to our friends and went to bed in the rain.

The following day in the light rain, Stacy and I drove the whole loop road and saw the sights.  We did the little short hikes at most of the stops.  This included Thunder Hole:

Sand Beach (yes, real name):

Jordan Pond:

And the many beautiful stone bridges commissioned by Rockefeller Jr.:

That night our friends rejoined us for a night of beer and Chris Pratt movies.  Delicious wines, ciders, and kettle corn was had.  The next morning we ventured off (mainly for Stacy's Junior Ranger program) to an interpretive ranger talk at the base of the precipice trail.  A pair of peregrine falcons were nesting in the cliffs near the trail and to inform the public (and sate them while the most popular trail in the park was closed), the rangers hold birding sessions almost daily.  We spent almost an hour filling our brains with ornithological tidbits.

With that complete, we ventured to the 'quiet side' of the park (or as I called it; the lower testicle) on the southern bit of the island.  This was mainly based on an insider tip about Maine seafood.  Cousin Mark tells us the best 'lobstah' can be had at Thurston's.  They did not disappoint.

To burn off the calories from the cups of butter that were consumed, we swung by the Bass Harbor Head Lighthouse for a peek and spent the afternoon leisurely strolling the tidal pools along Wonderland and Seawall.  Tis a good way to kill the afternoon.

The following day since it was now Sunday of Memorial day weekend, we ventured to the less visited part of the park, further up the mainland; Schoodic Point.  The hike began at Blueberry Hill and summited Schoodic Head.  The trail was typical half scramble granite sometimes found in New England.

It was a gorgeous day for a hike and we were rewarded with astounding views.

And I must say (Stacy agrees) the cutest trail blazes we've seen yet.  Every 3rd one would be detailed with an artistic rendition of some real bird.

And that was Acadia.

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So here we are.  In case you haven't read, this was our 52nd National Park.  In 52 weeks.  Mission accomplished.  What to do now?  Our journey is not over yet, and we have grown with new knowledge of our lands, our fellow humans, and mostly ourselves.  More on that next time...

-K 

Escaping PA

Karl ended our last blog post with the statement: "Emotions are running high, money is running low, and we are running away. Until next time." While emotions are still running high and money is still running low, germs from hanging around people again were higher and our outdoor-sy immune systems were running lower. So, the whole "we are running away" statement didn't exactly happen how we planned.

We did try to immediately run away after our covert festivities in Pittsburgh.  Going as far as inviting any friends or family to join us, we made the quick drive over to the closest National Park to our home town: Cuyahoga Valley National Park, in Ohio. But, with our spur of the moment travel style and avoidance of any parks during the weekends due to crowds, we were there in the middle of the week. Arriving midday, we took a nap at our campsite outside of the park (not realizing that the feeling of exhaustion at this point was a precursor to being ill) and then after the sun went down we joined Rangers for a Moonlight Hike by the eerie glow of a full moon hiding behind wisps of clouds in the night sky.

It was cool, quiet, peaceful, and dark (yet not dark enough to warrant the use of headlamps or flashlights) and the sounds of the shuffling feet of our group blended with peepers and gurgling waters and wafts of wind in the night.

Perfect way to spend a night. Until the early hours of the next morning had Karl waking with a severe head cold and congestion. And the sickness sets in.

It is Karl though and he insisted that he was fine to go explore, so we took the morning to hike the same tow path we did by moonlight the few hours before to check out the views with  daylight to see by.  Looking up we had snakes in trees, woodpeckers tapping away, buzzing of beehives in full force, and birds of prey soaring above.

And looking down, ducks and geese glided along, frogs hid amongst the grasses, and turtles (from snapping to red ear sliders) kerplunked in the water.

After just a few miles, Karl was feeling worse, not better, and was really dragging (and that never happens) so we went back to the car to seek out short-from-the-car excursions to conserve his energy.
Stopping at a small waterfall, Blue Hen Falls.

Next, since we have been to Cuyahoga National Park before (previously we biked the tow baths, and I would highly recommend that!) we knew it was the time of year for the nesting colonies of the Great Blue Herons. So, we went to the Bath Road Heronry to check out the rookeries from the side of the road.  At first glance, you see something like this:

Trees and power lines, but those trees have a lot going on... So you look closer.

And even closer, you see dozens of nests and fluttering wings, and calls for feeding. I could have stayed and watched these magnificent birds and their numerous nests for hours. Losing count (because I am easily distracted by cool photo opportunities) I gave up trying to sum up the total of nests within my eye sight, but according to Cuyahoga Valley National Park's website, there are over 140 nests! Here are some examples:

While I was blissfully snapping away, Karl was snotty and getting more miserable by the minute so we decided to begin heading out of the park.  Thankfully, our forgetfulness that other people don't have the luxury of just taking a day to go to a park turned out for the best, because we cut the time here so short. Yet, even with that said, we couldn't resist one last stop at the boardwalk along the Beaver Marsh.

While we weren't lucky enough to see an actual beaver, we were surrounded by beautiful marshlands (all of which used to be a junk yard) and we made friends with a bird.

For a National Park that is once again surrounded by so much development and cities, it is surprising how much you can feel like you are really escaping into the wild refuge with these creatures.  Yet, the only thing Karl wanted to escape from was how horrible he was feeling and with Pittsburgh being so close we slunk back home to hide and heal.

Good thing we did, because two days after Karl was feeling crappy, I decided to join him (apparently we can't do anything without the other one, including getting ill).  So, we hid away, watched a lot of G.O.T., ate lots of comfort food, and piled up many tissues. Honestly, it was probably the flu and it sucked. BUT, I will admit, I was super proud of the fact that this was the first time we got sick on the entire trip! Let's hope we keep future ailments at bay.

Fast forward a few days, and while there are lingering symptoms from our "down time" the itch to get back on the road again was stronger. Taking advantage of being back near our old stomping grounds, our first day back out we decided to stop at a climbing spot, Breakneck.

As we approached the rocks, Karl begins talking about how we used to be intimidated by places like this before our trip.  And how now though, these east coast rocks look, well, like home. They aren't terrifying to behold, with their shorter heights and mossy covered edges especially compared to some of the climbing spots we roped up on over the past few months. No, these walls no longer turn me into a bundle of nerves just gazing at them, but that does not mean that they still aren't a challenge.  They still kicked our butts, especially since our bodies were not happy with our attempt to jump right back into our usual routine right after a week of infirmity and lungs still plagued with phlegm. While we may not have had the best climbs, we did get a close up birding experience.  For the few hours we were there (we had the whole place to ourselves) we watched a momma bird fly around us, determine that we were not a threat, snag bugs from the moss around us, and then go up the rock wall into a crevice to feed her newly hatched chicks.

After our climbing turned birding escapade we took a few hours to drive towards Indiana, PA mostly because our friend Kirk S got to see us way back in October during our trip, but it was in Almont on a hunting trip and without Christine.  Just assuming, but I'm pretty sure Christine itching for some catch up time as well with the addition of bonfires (and steak over the fire dinners), horse (and donkey) bonding, and birthday wishes (Happy 30th Birthday Christine! So glad that we got to spend your day with you)! There are way too many photos of our short time hanging out with S & Christine, but here is a hint of the happenings.

From Central PA to Upstate New York we were off to bug someone else that we visited at the very beginning of our trip, Karl's cousin, Becca! Last time we visited her it was in Helena, Montana this time it was at her current place of employment as a project leader with the SCA/Americorp-Adirondack Corp (honestly, not sure what her job description actually is as I just stole that from her FB profile page, but no matter the title she is badass awesome, as always) in the Adirondack Mountains.

Seriously, every time we get to catch up with Becca, it is fun and fueled with conversations of shared passions.  Fun fact, the past 4 times we got to cross paths and hang out has been in 4 different states! One of the best things Becca does is peak our interest in doing cool things in the areas around where she currently resides. This time around she recommended a short hike up Blue Mountain, with a fire tower offering sweeping views at the end (good thing the views were epic to make up for the fact that the black flies were out in force!).

Continuing with the East coast state trend, why not hit up more people who claim to still like us (even if we are stinky) and see a few more cool spots? Next stop = Avon, Connecticut! Here we descended upon one of the busiest retired ladies I have even met, Karl's Aunt Kathy.  From her "glass class" where she makes stunning shards of glass submit to her will and the end result could be anything from lamp shades to stained glass window hangings to wise owls (like this guy)...

...to making chicken salad for the next party she was invited to. She never seemed to stop but would always offer a place for us to stay and somehow managed time to chat and laugh between it all.  Then at Aunt Kathy's there is Karl's cousin, John and his energetic and entertaining kids... Amelia, Katie, and Biscuit (yes, I include the dog!)

Seriously, this family doesn't seem to stop between softball games and swim meets and hikes and dog shows. It was wonderful to be included in their crazy schedule.  While softball games were being played Amelia, Karl, & I played around a big tree (The Pinchot Sycamore Tree, circumference of 23 ft and 7 inches)

Hiked up to a tower and gazed out at all the lookouts along the way (Talcott Mountain State Park and Hueblein Tower)

And that night, we indulged in one of my "must do on this road trip bucket list activities"... We went to a DRIVE IN!

We saw Guardians of the Galaxy 2 (I am Groot) and the whole exploit from the massive amounts of popcorn to the wrapping up in hats and blankets at the night air chilled made it memorable.

That is the closest we got to all of us having a "nice" group shot together... Seems pretty prefect, if you ask me.

We will be returning to CT in the near future but we will leave that story for another time. So, before I end this blog post, let's throw one more state as a destination in the mix, New Hampshire. All because Karl wanted to visit White Mountain National Forest and the Presidential Range, again.  I say again because we took a road trip here a few years ago and got the whole Cog Railway, stand on the top of Mt. Washington experience.  But this time, Karl wanted to summit Mt. Washington by hiking to the top via the Tuckerman Ravine Trail.

This is something I usually would be all for, yet just say... I was NOT feeling it.  It was just one of those days.  So the internal struggle begins, my muscles did not want to be submitted to a semi-strenuous activity, my uterus was rebelling in its monthly fashion, my lungs were still battling globs of mucus, and mentally I was berating myself over the emotional and mental tug of war that was being played out in my head.  There was no way I was backing out of doing the hike, yet for reasons I can't really put into words, I didn't really want to be there. So I flip flopped between attempting to be in the moment and pushing through the pain.

Oh, and there was still snow (lots of it) in May all along the way... Wonderful.
Here is me trying to put on a happy face during a break amongst the rock scrambling and snow.

Reverting to the tried and true "Stacy-Pacy" we pushed on (slowly) to the top.  If the trail wasn't snow covered.

Then it was wet and slick from the snow melt like this.

Yet this was only the first few miles, the push to the top was all large boulder fields which required a lot of scrambling/climbing and looked something like this:

Karl, of course, was in his glory and loved every second on the trail while I took each boulder I had to find my over as a terrible mean object that was submitting me to obstacles on purpose for it own sick entertainment.  Hrmph. Then to rub salt into my already wounded ego, as soon as we summited the clouds moved in, go figure. Still pretty though.

Mt. Washington, elevation of 6,288ft overlooks a panoramic view of 725,000 acres of public land managed by White Mountain National Forest and this tippy top boasts some of the worst weather and the highest wind ever observed (by man) with a velocity of 231 miles per hour.  Thankfully even though the wind was brutal and cold, it was no where near record breaking.  After a snack for some quick calories at the top and a photo op at the sign (of course).

And it was time to go back down, which is supposed to be the "easier" part, right? Due to trail closures (snow bridges and hazards like that) we took a different route down than the way we came up, so Boott Spur Link Trail down it is.  The massive rock piles that serve as cairns catch your eye all the way to the horizon, drawing an imaginary line along the rock piles to follow.

Can you just image how intense and difficult route finding would be if the clouds sunk any lower onto us, or if the snow hadn't been blown away or melted from this area yet? Hence why there are so many cairns so close.  

The way down, proved to be quite a joint jolter and near ankle twister as the boulder fields extended away from the peak.  As the elevation decreased, the environment around us changed and we found ourselves back in an high elevation alpine forest with blankets of wild flowers leading into the thick trees that created dappled spots of sunlight and shade in order to provide the perfect scenario for the snow to linger.  I felt many times. Here is an example of me falling (and Karl capturing it)

Truly though I do not joke when I say A LOT. Like multiple times falling and not just the small slips, the full out land in the most awkward position and submit your various parts of your body to sudden unexpected threats.  Palms were scratched as I put my hands out to catch myself, twigs dug into flesh looking for blood, legs post-holed deep into the snowy trails that turned out to be a mini snow bridge creating the slab stick situation of me with a leg immobilized, face planting into the icy crust of the snow.  Crying occurred, a full out yelp of surprise that turned into frustration bawling. BUT, it was only once, and it wasn't for long.  Sometimes though I find releasing those tears is like a reset for the mindset. Admittedly, on days like this I do not see myself as a "Force of Nature" like all the REI ads promoting women in the outdoors. Days like this make me feel weak, yet strong; tired, yet exhilarated; like I failed to live up to certain expectations, yet a I succeeded by not quitting. Yet, even I sometimes have to force myself to be out in nature and find my way, which I always seem to do. Maybe I am more "One with Nature" than a "Force of Nature".  

Or maybe I am just thinking too much about our trip nearing its end... who knows.

Until next time.

<3 S