Sunday, October 24, 2010

Greece and Turkey, eh?

This entry is VERY late in coming, but, then again, writing it reminds me of the warm, indigo waters of the Aegean while sitting in a chilly apartment in Baltimore! In the name of George Fitz Simmons, the former Simmons family pater familia (a post currently occupied by my dad), the extended Simmons family embarked on a grand family adventure aboard an elegant four masted sailboat, the Windstar, and cruised around Greece and Turkey for 10 days in August, 2010. We were lucky enough to have the gallant company of Mister Mike Marks, banjo player and artist extraordiaire and enthusiastic wearer of flannel.

Indigo waters, white washed villages, ancient ruins and cloudless blue skies greeted us at every stop. Enjoy the slideshow!


Island of Delos, Birthplace of Athena and Apollo, close to Mykonos


Santorini, Greece


Santorini, Greece


Santorini, Greece


Volcano, Santorini, Greece






Deep blue view from Lindos Acropolis


Temple of Apollo


Lindos Acropolis, Temple of Appollo, Rhodes, Greece


Bodrum Castle, Bodrum, Turkey


The Damon brothers soakin' in the sun


Kushadasi


Kushadasi, Turkey



Ephesus, conservation of ancient apartment compound with in-tact wall murals


Sitting on an ancient toilet in the ancient city of Ephesus


The ancient city of Ephesus, Turkey


Hagia Sofia, Istanbul, Turkey


Medusa head in Basilica Cistern (Yerebatan Sarayı), underneath Constantinople,


Blue Mosque, Istanbul, Turkey


View of Istanbul from ship, Blue Mosque and Hagia Sofia visible in distance


Frankfurt airport, during layover, beer at 9am with the family - priceless

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Old Speck and The Mahoosucs



Well, it's been a full year since Lisa and I first moved to Maine! For Lisa, Maine is now her glorious vacation spot, her "Oh, I'll be spending the weekend at my glorious second home in Maine. Ta-ta, Baltimore!" So I've been holding down the northern stronghold for our adventures and spent much of the summer seeking out more and more areas for the taking, adventurously speaking in a bravado tone. This and the upcoming entries for Maine are really a re-cap of the summer and fall. And so we begin!

Last spring, while my good friend and adventuring chum in cahoots (Chris Cannon - http://bikingspain.blogspot.com/) was visiting, we decided to trek up from Portland to Grafton Notch State Park, about a 2 hour drive. The area, also known as the Mahoosuc Range, is a northern extension of the White Mountains straddling the Maine/New Hampshire border that marks the end of the Whites and the beginning of the Longfellow Mountains (see The Bigelow Range) that stretch up and across Maine's interior to Baxter and Katahdin. The Appalachian Trail enters Maine through the Mahoosucs via the Whites of New Hampshire, crossing several notable mountains in the Grafton Notch locale. And this is why Chris and I had come, to climb Old Speck (Ol' Speck) - Maine's fourth highest peak at 4180 feet, and a member of New England's "Hundred Highest" and "4000 Footer" lists respectively. The Mahoosucs are rugged and worn, steep and windswept. As part of the Appalachians, they are old mountains and evoke a grumbling old man in their persona.



Mountain stream along the AT, climbing Old Speck.



Looking northeasterly at Bald Pate Mountain, from Old Speck.

The climb of Old Speck begins at Grafton Notch, climbing the AT through thick forests, steep cliffs, and mountain streams. The day was sunny and warm at the lower elevations when Chris and I began climbing Old Speck in May, but this changes rapidly as you ascend. The temperature drops quickly and the wind was sustained around 40 mph with 50+ mph gusts that day (there were even higher winds along the coast that day when two young kayakers went missing in Casco Bay, sadly, to be found several days later). This is very characteristic of the Mahoosucs , as of the Whites and the Longfellows, and should be expected at about any time of the year. Extra clothes are a must! Plan well! The entire top quarter of our climb was in snow up to our mid-thighs where it wasn't packed down. There can be snow up top from October-June. And so, as we post-holed our way along the ridges the views widened and sprawled out before us. The final push to the summit, along with climbing the old fire tower up top, is filled with incredible views of the Mahoosucs reaching southwest into the Presidential Range of the Whites and northeastern views of the Longfellows reaching out across Maine.



Old Speck fire tower.



Chris Cannon looking east.



The Mahoosucs!

Grafton Notch State Park is also home to several impressive waterfalls (Screw-Auger Falls), Moose Cave, Table Rock, and old logging roads that wind their way through gullies and rocky ravines. On the eastern side of the Notch, the AT continues up Bald Pate Mountain (3790') - a grizzled old rock, hence the name.There is no camping in the park though you can reach camping via the AT and then really enter the Mahoosucs. Mountains like Goose Eye lie west beyond Old Speck, and there is a 40 mile loop that begins outside the park boundaries that is on my list to be had. Stay posted for winter hikes in this region, as we'll be snowshoeing our way through the blog soon enough!



Looking west/southwest into the Presidentials/White Mountains across the Mahoosucs.



Descending Old Speck.



Screw-Auger Falls, Grafton Notch State Park.



View from Table Rock.

Monday, July 5, 2010

The Bigelow Range



For the 4th of July holiday we knew we had to do more than just drink beers, grill out, and sit around (though we love doing those things too!). We wanted sore muscles, tired limbs, and vast stretches of mountains before us - in other words, it was back to the Appalachian Trail. Lisa flew up to Maine to do just that, and we decided to do a backpacking loop on Bigelow Mountain using a combination of trails and, yes, the AT. The weather was perfect and whenever we started guessing that the heat might catch up to us, a cool breeze visited. And, unlike the swampy climate of Maryland, there was no humidity but there WERE baby grouse. Yes. (Lisa speaking) I was immobilized by the little puffs of mountain joy. (Mike speaking) She was. She really was.

My recent purchases of Maine's native bibles, the AMC Maine Mountain Guide and the Maine Atlas and Gazetteer, were our tickets to new destinations. That, and the endless amounts of mountain-information on the wonderful website www.summitpost.org
Bigelow Mountain is northeast of the Mahoosuc Range in Maine and southwest of Baxter State Park. The Bigelow Mountain Preserve and Maine Public Lands is a 33,000 acre conservation area established in 1976. The Appalachian Trail, meticulously cared for by the Maine Appalachian Trail Club (MATC) traverses its 12 mile spine before heading off into the 100 mile wilderness that leads bone weary hikers to Mount Katahdin.






Horn's Pond, elevation around 3600 ft.


Feral man with short shorts.

Two and a half hours after leaving Portland we arrived at the trailhead. Our loop began with a 2 mile hike from the Fire Warden's Trail to the Horn's Pond Trail, where we began our meandering ascent to reach the sub-alpine mountain tarn, Horn's Pond. After wading in the cool mountain water, we continued over the ridge line via the Appalachian Trail. Our route took us over one of 'The Horns', a pair of twin peaks. We scaled 'South Horn' at 3805'. The next several miles are known as some of the best ridge running in Maine outside of Katahdin's knife-like trails. We continued on towards Bigelow's West Peak - the highest point of the mountain at 4145' and with views of Maine's mountains, Quebec, and the hopeful vista of Katahdin in the distance (it's that one! NO it's that one!). At this point, it was a short distance to the Myron Avery Tentsite. Our legs were pretty thankful for the evening rest - seriously, Bigelow is one rugged mother. In the words of Lisa's brother-in-law, Josh, we "felt like piles." Happy sweaty piles.







After our gourmet Pad Thai dinner (freeze dried) I made a quick run up to the next summit, Avery Peak (4088') to watch the sunset and see the old fire tower watching over the valleys. The night was quiet and cool but we had visitors. Not in the form of feral goats like in West Virginia, or bears in North Carolina. We were visited by (insert heart throbbing pause here)..... visited by.....!!! MOUNTAIN HARES! AAAhhhh! It was bizarre. A warren of large, muscular, lanky jackrabbits had taken up at the top of a mountain in Maine. We couldn't figure it out. They would occasionally spar and were in no way afraid of humans. They hopped around the wooden sleeping platform on which we had pitched our tent. When we returned to Portland, we immediately consulted the great oracle, Google, to see what they might have been. Apparently, a population of non-native European Hares has grown in south eastern Canada and New England. They were brought over by a German farmer in the 1800s. We knew we had never seen cottontails that looked like these bruisers before. Mountain Hares! Weird.


The old fire tower with Flagstaff Lake below.




View of West Peak from Avery Peak.



In the morning we cooked oatmeal and got water from a nearby water box spring and headed out. Our descent took us down the Fire Warden's Trail. It was a grueling march directly down the face of the mountain on a boulder field. Ouch. By the time we got to flat ground our muscles were visibly shaking. The whole way up and down, by the way, we had great views of Sugarloaf Ski resort. It might be fun to cruise down it on a snowboard, and I'm sure it employs many people, but the runs looked like ugly scars on the second tallest mountain in Maine. Fortunately, there's enough space around to see past the resort and 360 degree views from the summit.

On the drive back to Portland, we stopped at our friend Kira's cabin on Salmon Pond (also called Ellis Lake) in the Belgrade Lakes Region. The cabin was adorable and we had Geary's New Hampshire Specials (perfect summertime brew) and then went for a refreshing dip in the perfect water. It was awesome - thanks Kira (and Kira's mom!).


Bunchberry (Cornus canadensis), the smallest herbal member of the Dogwood family


Yellow Clintonia (Clintonia borealis), also called Bluebead Lily after the fruits extraordinary true-blue color. Unfortunatley, the berries are poisonus.


Journey's End.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Union Mills

I found peace close to Westminster in rural northern Carroll County this weekend. While slogging over creeks, steep switchbacks and upland forests, I felt solitude creep over me slowly. After wading through creeks, streams and bogs I entered the present, but only after I started sweating like a penguin in the Grand Canyon.










Sweet Cicely, Osmorhiza claytoni. "Before the days of mass-produced candy, the roots of Sweet Cicely, which resembled carrots, were a favorite treat among country people, when chewed, the roots released a refreshing licorice-like flavor." Wildflowers of the Appalachian Trail by Leonard Adkins.

Yes ladies and gentlemen, Union Mills was a scorching hike, lined with wasteside wildflowers, horses and yodelling mountain bikers. But, I didn't give a damn. I got to check out a grist mill and a Bollman-design bridge. Did you get to do that this weekend? I'd be 100 bucks not. What the heck is a Bollman-design bridge anyway? Union Mill house was built in 1797 by Andrew and David Shriver and has been continually occupied by the family. The mill itself, also built in 1797, is a large brick structure, built of locally manufactured brick. "On June 30, 1863, General J.E.B. Stuart of the Confederate Army of Northern Virginia camped at Union Mills and was hosted by part of the Shriver family. On the following day Union troops arrived. General James Barnes of the 5th Corps of the Army of the Potomac arrived on the site and welcomed and entertained by other members of the family" - Union mill website, National Register of Historic Places. Most of the men from both sides died at Gettysburg the next day.




Milkweed for monarch babies.



Saw this little man while I was eating peanuts. HE crept very close but ran away right before I was able to pet him - probably very used to people.