Mountain Quest: Barrett Mountain

I drove up to New Ipswich, NH earlier today to climb Barrett Mountain by way of the Wapack Trail going up the Windblown Cross-Country Ski Area. It took 55 minutes to make it to the top, and 45 minutes to complete my descent.

It was a mostly sunny day, and relatively humid. The hike started off so easy (and with a barely noticeable incline for a good stretch), that I was rather disappointed. But as it went on, the steady increase in the degree of incline began to affect me. The worst thing about the climb though was the surface. There was barely any rock for footing! It was mostly spongy moss and grass overgrowing loose stones. I felt like I was climbing a hill of wet sand most of the time, and traction was frequently treacherous. Plus it was muddy. However, the air smelled fantastic, which always puts me in a great mood. The evergreens were giving off that Christmas wreath scent, and the damp leaves, ever-present moss, and running streams & small ponds added their bouquets to the air as well. It felt great to be outdoors, and it was another fortunate climb where there were no other humans in sight all day.

I hiked steadily to the top of the ski area, and then pushed on for another quarter mile to the top of the mountain (1835 feet above sea level, and just over two miles traveled in each direction), but there was no scenic vista (nor was there a marker at the top) once I achieved the summit. What a disappointment! No view, no official confirmation of conquest - what a ripoff! Oh well, it was still an amazing hike, a great way to get exercise, the drives there and back were full of New England autumn foliage, and hey, it was 72 degrees on October 26th. So all complaining aside, it was a worthy way to spend a few hours.

On the way down I ate my traditional apple, and listened to Joy Zipper's "American Whip" album on my iPod. They sound like a cross between Lush and early Pale Saints. A nice dreamy accompaniment to an arduous trek. Toward the bottom of the mountain there were a ton of blue jays - they were an amusing burst of color and noise to signal the end of today's adventure. Next up: Yosemite National Park!

Cinco de Mayo

Wednesday afternoon I drove up to Portsmouth for the first time in a half-decade (after having lived there for six years: late '99 - late '04), to hang out with three of the best of the friends I made during that time period (and beyond).

After a nice long sunny drive (about 90 minutes or so), I arrived at Brian's new apartment in Kittery. It's very cool. A 3rd-story walk-up above an auto reupholstery shop, he & his girlfriend Nikki have an interesting 2-floor living area with a 3-barstool kitchen, an open staircase, and a super-high wood ceiling over the living room/bedroom combo. It's like being in a mountain chalet without a mountain nearby, and would be a great place for a small party. We sat around for a little while, and then walked across the bridge into Portsmouth to The Rusty Hammer to have dinner and watch the Bruins & Red Sox games, drink some local beer, and wait for Rob and Chris to join us after their respective evening commitments.

I had a bowl of clam chowder (which was horrible) and a Red Hook Long Hammer IPA before my dinner, and Brian had a Sam's Summer. The turkey club and waffle fries were both fantastic, especially in comparison with that chowder. Seriously - worst clam chowder I've had in years, but the rest of the food, beer and service made up for that initial misstep. Plus, the Bruins and Red Sox both won their games, and the beer was fantastic.

Unfortunately, Chris had been sick the last couple days, and being the trouper he is, waited until the last possible minute to reluctantly determine he didn't have the physical resources to join us (get well soon, chum!). But Rob arrived around 8:15 or so after his class, and the three of us caught up, talked about favorite TV shows and the economy, and discussed the next time we might all get together.

We all left around ten, Brian & I walked back across the bridge, we hung out for another half hour or so (his 2 cats rock) discussing our next gathering, I said hi to Nikki when she got home, and then I drove the 76 miles back to my place. There is nothing like a late night solo drive. I got to listen to WXGR (best. station. EVER.) in my car for a good 20 minutes before I was out of range, and then with frequent dial-surfing, I got to sing my lungs out (Lit's "My Own Worst Enemy", a few good 80's hard rock songs, Owl City's "Fireflies", etc...) for awhile. A good night all around, and totally worth the trip.