Saturday, December 18, 2010

Father Son Hiking Adiriondacks April 2010 - Long





Because its there!!

I have always loved the mountains. Summers in the Guaderrama mountain range north of Madrid, solidified this. But it took my 8 month pregnant wife, hopped up on hormones and studying for her obstetrical exams convince me “to get lost for a few days”. I decided to take the 6 hour drive to the Adirondack Park in NY, state - home of the high peaks region and the mountain Mecca of lake Placid. I’ve been going ever since – sometimes as many as 3 times a year.

So when the neighbourhood guys proposed we now take our own sons, the ladies thought it was just another reason to go hiking. Wait - a free weekend without husbands and teenage boys - they were on the first flight to Italy for their own fun.

That first trip was with a long time university friend Mike, he knows too much about me and my previous lives. Although we are very different our love of the outdoors has given us a good reason to spend a few weeks a year canoeing or hiking. As many people do, we planned to climb the highest peak first. We had spent a fitful day of being tent bound, while multiple snow squalls lashing our tent. There was a break in the weather so we made a dash for the summit, encountering a weather beaten scout troupe descending from the summit. They looked like they had been through hell. But with the break in the clouds we made it to the top, even though we had 50km winds at the summit. As we were descending, there was a side trail to the 2nd highest summit Skylight.  But because of bad weather and the lateness in the day, we vowed to do it next year. Well 17 years later we have our chance. This time with out sons, the real reason I began this journey 17 years ago.

Our destination is the Adirondack Loj just outside lake placid, a 6 hr drive from Toronto.
If you are not a mountain enthusiast, don't come here. You will not appreciate the rustic hardwood floors, log cabin style architecture and quilted cedar furniture. It has 4, 6 and 14 person bunk rooms. It has clean communal washrooms. No TV! No cappuccino maker! The dining room – if you must call it that is basic - communal tables and benches. Suzie your sommelier will gladly make some wine recommendations, “We have both kinds of wine …… red and white”.

 My son, Cameron, is 16 is too good looking for his own good. He wears the “cool” homeless dishevelled look. Grunge meets “Red Green” or “derelict” in the movie Zoolander. He loves the outdoors and practically runs up and down the mountain during our trips. We are getting close to the end of the school year and it may be the last time we’ll go on the father son hike to “bag” this mountain. This trip has come at an opportune time. We are having father son, “issues”. I’ve used this as a motivator to ensure he’s completed his school work before going. He is up the night before completing the last of the delinquent assignments.

Along for the ride are my friends and their sons, 14 in total. Steven, one of my closet friends, an architect, and an amazing cook with a propensity to tell sheep jokes at all occasions. Mike my old university friend. Jack, magazine adverts, the gregarious personable and ex-member of “Lee Aaron” – heavy metal queen fame. He has a knack of keeping the party going but don’t open any emails of his in the office. It may get you fired. Alex, we’ve coached hockey together and Stephen, a sports doc... Originally, from South Africa, an avid rugby fan, skier and outdoor person. He loves things all Canadian! So much so, he has a regulation size hockey rink in his back yard, equipped with its own zamboni.

The Loj attracts a mix bag of hardcore hikers, the sweater crowd, dads and sons, and couples - soon to, “not” be couples. Then there’s the 46ers - a group, who have climbed all 46 Adirondack peaks over 4000 ft. These people are gods around these parts. I was once asking by one, how many of the 46 had I climbed. I replied “I’m not entirely sure” His left eye twitched uncontrollability. What’s wrong with you!    

After an unsatisfying breakfast of rubbery eggs and wonder bread, our daily hiking planning meeting convenes. Stay away from the pork sausage. Pork and hiking do not mix! That’s of course unless you like…. the taste of garlic pork fat for 9 hours. The group hastily decides to split into 2 groups, one group doing an easier hike and the second hiking to Mt. Colden. Skylight, it has been decided, is to far away. And in a flicker our chance is lost - again. I only seem to catch the significance. I glance at my son and realize that time has flown by to fast. But no time to ponder the meaning of life, we need to decide what kind of sandwiches we are taking.
  
We leave at 9am and our first day we arrive at Marcy dam, which has view of our destination is Mt. Colden, at 4400.  It is the 6th highest peak. It sits between St. Marcy the highest at 5600 ft and Algonquin the 4th highest. It is evident there is snow on all peaks. “Are we really going up there?”

After signing the registry at the trail head, this is so the rescue team has a place to mail the bodies, you begin your hike. The morning is a refreshing cool temperature, so you’ll make the mistake of putting on too many layers. Within 10 minutes layering down! If you've never hiked up a mountain, you in for a treat; the 1st hour will have you calling for your mommy. Heart rate jumps up to about 140 beat per minute, to fast to maintain for the whole day. You could turn around and go back. But you know price to pay, the ribbing would be continuous throughout the night and then there’s 6 hour drive home. Breathing grows laboured and previous day’s aches and pains reappear. As the body starts to adjust, breathing becomes deep and deliberate. Arms and legs begin to work in unison. The month opens permanently to maximize air intake. Thoughts of pain begin to clear from the mind. Above the temples there is a slight dizziness almost a high - endorphins start kicking in. You begin to lessen to your breathing, heart rate settles down. It's a comfortable 130. Thoughts clear the mind, eyes focus on the obstacles, arms and feet react instinctively. You move from rock, to ground to tree route swiftly and purposefully. You’re in the zone, nirvana. Your body switches from food reserves to burn high octane keystones. The body settles into a purely efficient state. This state is nothing new. It has always been there since we existed on the Savanna on constant move when we were hunter gathers. We exist on a different plane. Some jube jubes to keep the feeling going and it is all good.                    

After a number of false summits we reach the summit of Mount Colden. The views are spectacular. There is hand shakes and high fives all around, and even one for Daniel, Alex’s son. This is his first summit. We eat lunch, tell some bad sheep jokes and have our father son photo ops. Jus to prove to the wives we did not spend the weekend in Vegas. But as the saying goes “the summit is only half way there”. We begin our descent into Avalanche pass, a mountain lake at the bottom of 2 sheer rock faces.  We arrive back at the Loj and it has been a nine hour round trip. We are tired but high with a sense of accomplishment.

We head into the dinning room! They say, “Hunger is the best sauce” - I want more sauce. Even after expending 4000 calories, after a 9 hour hike, the food has little flavour.  People eat the food because it’s convenient, they’re starving, and they feel bad for Josh the cook - the earnest environmental studies student. After dinner we head to the common room and around stone fireplace with the mangy moose, people talk about the latest treks in the Presidential Peaks NH, the latest gear, and a climbing team recounts a week long accent of Mt. St. Helens in Washington State. A surprise birthday party for Adirondack mountain club member is in the dining room. Outside guests have unknowingly put their coats in the drying room. It contains pungent hiking gear from today’s hikes. They will realize their mistake on the ride home.

George Mallory, famous Everest Mountaineer was asked “why climb?” He replied “because it’s there”. But really we climb mainly because - we’re here!! We need to mark our time and do something significant, personal and binding. Our boys will remember these trips. We’ve given them the chance to step out of the ordinary routine, away from emails, text messaging, and the daily grid and have a real true life adventure. I’m glad we did not climb Skylight that weekend… it just means … we’ll be back!!

 Other Pictures

ADK 2010 - Alex - Picasa Web Albums
http://picasaweb.google.com/jackdumoine/ADKMay2010?locked=true#
http://picasaweb.google.com/stevejgawron/2010ADKLOJ#




ADK 2010 - Alex - Picasa Web Albums

ADK 2010 - Alex - Picasa Web Albums

Father Son Hiking Adiriondacks April 2010 - Short



Adirondack Loj, NY

“We have both kinds of wine …… red and white” proudly replies Suzie our server.

The Adirondack Loj is located in the high peaks region of NY State. A 15 minute drive to Lake Placid; a 10 hour hike to Mt. Marcy, the highest summit, 5344 ft, above the tree line.

If you are not a mountain enthusiast, don't come here. You will not appreciate the rustic hardwood floors, log cabin style architecture and quilted cedar furniture. It has 4, 6 and 14 person bunk rooms. It has clean communal washrooms. No TV! No cappuccino maker!

They say, “Hunger is the best sauce” - I want more sauce. Even after expending 4000 calories, after a 9 hour hike, the food has little flavour.  People eat the food because it’s convenient, they’re starving, and they feel bad for Josh the cook - the earnest environmental studies student.

There are the hardcore hikers, the sweater crowd, dads and sons, and couples - soon to, “not” be couples. Then there’s the 46ers - a group, who have climbed all 46 Adirondack peaks over 4000 ft. They live for this!!

Around stone fireplace with the mangy moose, people talk about the latest treks in the Presidential Peaks NH, the latest gear, and a climbing team recounts a week long accent of Mt. St. Helens in Washington State.

A surprise birthday party for Adirondack mountain club member is in the dining room. Outside guests have unknowingly put their coats in the drying room. It contains pungent hiking gear from today’s hikes. They will realize their mistake on the ride home.

 "No alcohol in the common room", winks Anthony the innkeeper. A guitar plays in the corner while people read, play cards and plan tomorrows trek. Quiet time begins promptly at 10pm. Most guests are at breakfast by 7:15 am, ready for either - a day of torture or 9 hours of bliss.
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Fernie Feb 2010 - Father Son




Official Website http://www.fernie.com/


Tuesday, December 7, 2010

The River Guide: Dumoine River, Quebec June 2009

The river current begins to quicken and the froth from the white-water starts to boil.  This set of rapids is called Canoe Eater for a reason. Focused fear; heart in throat; muscles straining; Stroke; Stroke; Stroke. Bow and sterns man in symbiotic unison, arms firing on all pistons.
“Full steam ahead, boys …Ramming speed  ... phasers on stun,” yells Andrew the guide.
As the paddles hit the water the canoes begin to lurch forward on every stroke. The river is narrowing, and unlike the past hour of calm leisurely paddling, the Dumoine River waters are being compressed, preparing us one of the inevitable drops that eventually take us to our final destination, the Ottawa - the great Ottawa. Oh don’t get me wrong the Dumoine is impressive in a different way. In this 70 kilometre section it drops 1200 ft through rapids called Gooseneck, the Sleeper, Snake and Grande Chute, eventually reaching the Ottawa, making it one of the primer white-water rivers in the world. Its rapids have all been classified. They range from class 1 to class 7. But to the average person, well even to the average canoeist this means nothing. So in laymen’s terms class 3 requires you to make a technical manoeuvre but no risk of real physical danger. Class 4 is a different matter, it means technical manoeuvre with a life threatening obstacle. Canoe Eater is a class 4, it has a stopper. Basically it is a hole, where the water after a hydraulic (water forced up by rock) creates a strong downward current. It can grab you, pull you down, eat your canoe and drown you.
“Remember gentlemen, you must find the centre of the downward water V, pass the pool, and then hug the large rock. Keep the water hydraulic to you right. Stay away from the green eyed monster (the hole) then eddy left at the bottom. I hope you all have wills?”
Paul, my bow’s man, points his paddle to the V and we angle the canoe to find the centre. We feel the force of the water sucking us into the void, like a worm hole there is nothing we can do, we have passed the event horizon.
“Paddle hard, hard … there’s the pool; head toward the rock, careful stay away from the hydraulic and the green eye, not today green eye, not today, “ we surf the centre wave, then lean into our paddles left and crank the canoe, and eddy out.
Paul’s head partially turns showing a smile of pure high octane joy. “That was awesome, dude, lets do it, again,” he is a kid again.
The canoes of Mike and Jack, Stephen and Stevens, Alex and Andrews joined us in the eddy. There are hoots and high fives and all around congratulations.
“Canoe eater, my ass”, says Jack.
“In your face, in your face,” says Stephen.
Andrew announces in ceremonial tones, “Gentlemen, Gentlemen may I have your attention please. Cough, cough. I would like to announce ….You are no longer …flat water Nancys!!” Cheers erupt all around; we slap the waters with our paddles, at the end of a day we will never forget. The river has been patient and good to us. It’s time for beer, food and more beer. If this is not heaven, I don’t want it!
The night settles down. Tents are up, wet clothes are hung to dry; we have had a wonderful dinner of planked salmon, pesto pasta with fresh peas, and copious glasses of wine. We are really roughing it. We’ve retired to the smoking lounge, which is the fire pit and kitchen and alter. The cigars have been pulled out. Mostly Cuban’s because we can afford them once a year and our wife’s won’t let us smoke most of the time. But truth be told, we don’t like the fact, it takes a week to get the taste out of the mouth.
It is the end of another day, which we as friends have marked our lives. Andrew, the guide is part of that adventure. He is one of us; hermano. As the jokes and liquor flow the wall between employed and stupid old white guys from the city begins to fall.
“I got my masters engineering degree at Cambridge in nuclear physics. I met my ex-wife in Ottawa, we married and had kids. I worked for Nortel for 10 years. I did not like it. Then one day I discovered paddling. I loved it so much I spent every weekend on the water. It also explains why I have an ex. Then one day Nortel went belly up. It was my chance. I took the severance and dumped the wife, well really she dumped me. But someone said “hey you would be a great river guide”, I never looked back…. So now I’m here with you assholes …..And I want my old job back.”
We laugh but make him sleep with Mike who snores.   
The river is flowing calmly now, lulling us to sleep, preparing us for another day. That night as the lights go out, I sit with Steven (the philosopher of the group) by the fire as the coals are burning down. “So let me understand this...” Steven says, “It takes a nuclear physicist to figure out … that in life you should ….do what you love. Do what you love. Forget about the money; forget about the beautiful women, the fancy cars, the real estate, the fame and the drinks with the little umbrellas. Do what you love!! …Sorry Jaime …. We’re not that smart!’