Riding the Chairlift

Neither my husband nor I are downhill skiers, so we haven't had many opportunities to ride chairlifts. This weekend we went campering at Eighth Lake Campground, just north of Inlet, NY. On Saturday we drove down to Old Forge to ride the chairlift at McCauley Mountain.

I enjoyed it immensely. I felt like a little kid, with my feet dangling and a big grin on my face.

The weather was perfect and the views were lovely.

It was well-worth the $6 for each of us. And we both managed to get on and off the chairlift with grace and humor. Naturally, I fell off my mountain bike later in the day, but that's another story...

30 Days of Lists

This morning I signed up for my first round of 30 Days of Lists, which is offers "creative journaling challenges for people who love to make lists." Since I've never done this before I don't know exactly what to expect, and yet I'm looking forward to it quite a bit. If nothing else, it will spur me to try something new and to meet new people who are also participating. And maybe find some new blogs to read in the process.

I'm also not sure what role my blog will play. Will I post my lists directly to the blog or will I post pictures of my lists? Will I write my lists in my journal (my regular, plain spiral bound notebook) or will I decide to do something more creative? I've never gotten into scrapbooking, but this could be a cross-over opportunity to mix my love of journaling and list making with something more crafty (which I would never describe myself as).

Come September 1st, all will be revealed. Maybe.

(If you are interested, it cost me $8 to register, but preregistration ends Saturday, August 17th, so the price may go up.)

Reading on my Nook

Two years ago I took the plunge and purchased a Nook Color. And while it is already seriously out-of-date as a tablet, it still makes an excellent e-reader. One of the reasons I decided to go with the Nook versus the Kindle was the in-store reading option. I've read several ebooks front to back while sipping tea at the brick-and-mortar B&N about a mile from my house.

Since buying the Nook, I've read a much wider variety of books than when I was just reading words on paper. B&N offers Free Friday selections each week, which has lead me to read a lot of books I might otherwise have passed on, including more than a few in the Christian genre (NOT my thing). The quality of most of the free books is of a lower caliber than I usually prefer, and sometimes the ebooks are so bad I've abandoned (and deleted) them almost immediately. Others I start and don't get sucked into, but leave in my library for a second look at a later date. Right now I have in the neighborhood of 60 unread titles in my library. (The read ones have been moved to the archive.)

I still love reading on paper, but having my Nook with me gives me lots of choices at any time. At some point in the future I would like to get a real tablet, but for now I'm making do with my Nook Color. And reading yet another free murder mystery... Maybe I'll take a break after I finish this one and read a paperback with more substance...

Mt Marshall

I've never written a trip report before, so we'll see how this goes. My guess is that with my exceptionally BAD memory, my report may be a bit sketchy...

My alarm was set for 3:55 AM on Saturday, but I was awake well before it went off. I stayed in bed until two minutes before it was to go off, figuring even if I wasn't still sleeping I would need all the rest I could get. I kissed my husband goodbye and rushed through my pre-hike routine. Less than 20 minutes later I was out the door heading to meet my sister at the park-n-ride.

At the Upper Works trailhead I squeezed into one of the few remaining legitimate parking spots (later cars would line the road) and we started our preparations (socks, boots, gaiters, and for me a thick layer of Aquaphor underneath). My sister had found a trip report written by another hiker with what he described as "prima donna" feet who slathered his feet with butt paste to help prevent blisters. I was willing to give it a whirl, and Aquaphor was what we had in the house (for post-tattoo usage).

My sister signed us in at the register and we step on the trail at 8:09 AM. Temperatures were in the 60s and the sun was shining. The weather stayed near perfect the entire day with a nice breeze and NO bugs. It was such a relief after our last hike up Seymour when the bugs and humidity were torturous.

When we got to the Henderson Monument we got out our cameras to take pictures and sucked down a Clif Shot Gel each. At the Flowed Lands we stopped again to take more photos, as it was the first time either of us had been there and it is a lovely spot.

Then we signed that register and were off again. We got to the cairn marking the start of the Herbert Brook herd path in roughly 3 hours and to the summit in another two (we are not speedy, obviously). The trail crisscrosses the brook but is well marked with small cairns and is very pretty. Lots of lush green moss and inviting pools of water. It is rocky and muddy, etc., but that comes with the territory. We saw several red efts and an occasional toad.

The trip reports we'd read ahead of time prepared us for a treed summit with limited views. After we took our requisite summit shots, we back-tracked just a hair to a small rock overlook where we found stunning panoramic views. Clearly either some people failed to take the few steps off the herd path to the overlook or we have different ideas of what qualifies as an impressive vista.

Phelps, Colden, Tabletop, Marcy, Gray, Skylight and the Flowed Lands on the right. 

I changed my socks and sock liners and applied GlacierGel bandages to my big toes. We ate our pb&js and took lots of pictures. Eventually we pried ourselves away from the breathtaking views and headed down the mountain after about an hour on the summit.

We stopped again at the Flowed Lands to take more photos in the afternoon light before pushing on. We signed out at the parking lot at 6:20 PM, changed our clothes, and were on the road by 6:40 PM. I forgot to note the time when I got home, but the shower and bed both felt divine after our long day.

Mt Marshall makes 14 Adirondack High Peaks for me and 21 for my sister. All-in-all a wonderful hike!

Soft and Worn

When I was a kid I slept in my dad's old t-shirts. They were faded and worn thin and super soft (and usually stained). But the best part about them was they smelled like my dad. This was especially important to me after he left my mom. On the nights we stayed with her I could cuddle close to the smell of him at night and not miss him as much.

I always wondered how he managed to wear out t-shirts, as at that time I was out-growing them before I could wear them out. Then as I got older I had so many tees that the idea of any one of them getting that much wear was impossible to imagine.

But I've finally done it. One of my shirts now looks like Swiss cheese*:

I bought this gray Old Navy pocket tee after watching The Thing Called Love in college. Samantha Mathis' character wears one in the movie and even though I loved the look on her, it didn't work well on me. The t-shirt got relegated to my "comfy clothes" category (the clothes I wear around the house but not out in public). It's still my go-to shirt to pull on when I get home from work. I suppose at some point I will have to give up and let it go. I wonder if my dad felt the same reluctance to part with his old shirts.

*Sorry for the crappy cell phone in the bathroom mirror picture.

Outside my Comfort Zone

The weekend was every bit as stressful as I expected it to be.

The "cottage" by the lake was little more than a shanty. Oh, it has potential, don't get me wrong. But its owners clearly lack ambition. The one bedroom was more of a loft/attic space that has been partially finished. It could easily be divided into three bedrooms with walls and doors.

Less easy to fix would be the crooked floors, walls, everything. Nothing was square. I kinda wanted to throw a handful of marbles on the floor just to see the many directions in which they could choose to roll. But I can get past unevenness. That isn't a deal breaker for me.

The smells were a bigger problem: musty, stale, and something else I couldn't put my finger on. One smell I had no trouble identifying was URINE. The first red flag was carpet in the bathroom (indoor-outdoor carpet, no less). As far as I'm concerned carpet has NO place in the bathroom. All it does is attempt to hide a variety of sins. In this case, I am guessing the wax ring was shot. And don't even get me started on the squishy toilet seat. Nasty to begin with, but when you add in a crack that releases moisture of an indeterminate nature onto your ass whenever you sit...

I could go on and on, but aside from the structure itself, the close quarters with other people was too much for me. I need a lot of space and me time. I start to shut down after too much social interaction. Then I need peace and quiet to replenish. The only alone time I had this weekend was when I went for walks. I couldn't even sit outside and read because the wind was cranking non-stop to the degree that it was uncomfortable to be in after only a few minutes. So I was stuck inside with everyone else and the constant, steady, and often very loud conversation.

I don't know if I've ever been so happy to pack up and leave somewhere. I'm sure the others did not find me to be the most pleasant person to be around, but I did my best under the circumstances. Maybe next time they can just go without me.

Forced Socializing

I am no longer the social butterfly I once was. I did a lot of partying in college and during my Florida years.  I loved going out to bars and house parties. These days... not so much.

I prefer to stay home or to go out to dinner with just my husband. I have no use for bars (they are usually too loud and almost always uncomfortable, whether I stand or perch on a bar stool). I hate being forced to make small talk.

Unfortunately for me, my husband is the most social person on the planet. He thrives in situations where he is surrounded by people, especially if they are all paying attention to him. I think he was a rock star in another life. He loves getting together with groups of friends. The more, the merrier.

This coming weekend will be a trial for me (no, optimism is NOT my forte). We are going to a one bedroom "camp" on a big lake to the north with two other couples. I would much rather stay home and read my books and go for my walks. Instead I will spend the weekend riddled with anxiety, wishing I was anywhere else but there.