July 16, 2011

Yes! I spent three weeks on the road, sleeping in tents and running through forests. Fantastic!

Ryder and I first headed for the White Mountains. So many peeks to climb, so much forest to explore with puppies. After days of spiraling through forests and streams and getting eaten alive by bugs, we went for a drive up Mt. Washington. I was skeptical about going up there.

“Too much of a tourist trap,” I told the dog. “It’s probably not going to be any fun for you at all.”

But once we accelerated up the steep incline the forests disappeared and were replaced by tundra — no trees just moss growing between rocks. Up there the wind was a hurricane and everything glittered in the sunshine. Each way you looked mountains floated on forever. Whee! So steep, so gorgeous.

And the wind had bite — it was almost punishing. I pulled up my nylon Costco pants and windbreaker. The pants are black and shiny. Then I skipped with Ryder down the mountain like a warehouse Ninja. The dog leaped from one crumbling crag to another and we found lakes melting in the sky.

Still zooming with excitement on the way down we ran into some hitchhikers. This guy Bear and his girl like to go up mountains. There were signs saying not to pick up hitchhikers. So we gave them a ride. They told us about the climb.

“All of it was awesome,” he said. Ryder and I are totally hiking up Mt. Washington next year.

…

By the time we drove into the Bay of Fundy a few days later, an inflammation the size of a baseball was eating my left ankle. I must have twisted my ankle something awful on one of the hikes. Thus, for most of the time we spent at Fundy I happily hopped around on one leg.

The tent was also vertically challenged. One of the support beams snapped in half in the middle of the night. The humidity probably got to it. For the whole week we were there an incredible wall of fog covered the land and the nights tasted like rain.

It took a while longer to learn to love Fundy. Unlike the mountains that are screaming excitement, Fundy is subtler. It wasn’t until I spent a day on the beach and watch the tides move in and out that I was struck. So much heaving water. A 17m wall of water moves in and out every six hours. Rivers disappear and then form again.

The last night on the Bay of Fundy I celebrated by drinking a bottle of Port in my floppy tent with the dog. The dog celebrated by chewing a big rawhide bone.

“Baw-wow, crunch-crunch,” Ryder said, which probably means “sweet, sweet bone” where she’s from.

I promised her a bigger bone next year if she climbs up a mountain.

[flick]