MERRY CHRISTMAS

A very MERRY CHRISTMAS

to all those I miss!

No need to worry about me though...

I am warm and happy in a winter wonderland.

you gotta know the rules to break em

For evidence of my total immersion into a new culture, (you may have noticed) my grammar has taken a turn for the worse. Not to worry: it is purely intentional.

As an English major I firmly believe that you gotta know the rules to break em. Anyway I am far more interested in dialect than “proper diction.” The regional dialect of Vermont first took my interest upon meeting Shook back in Baxter, and has kept me laughing ever since.

Earlier this week I drove upta Williston (Shook’s hometown) to do some shopping. Williston Liquidation Center is comparable to Maine’s store Marden’s (not quite as good though). Basically they sell a bit of everything at up to 70% off retail – I ended up buying lycopene, a sweater, and some Ritz crackers.

I had myself a good chuckle when I came across the following items and I hope you will too!

hiking in the snow

I have so far found running to be impossible in the cold, but I do enjoy

hiking in the snow.

Ned took me up the side of South Mountain (yep! they got one too) located just south of Bristol.

We went up the west-facing, steep side, visible to the right in this picture taken from Mountain Street, where the Tellings live.

Here we are standin under a frozen waterfall!

On a very clear day, looking west from here you can see New York’s Adirondack Mountains across the Champlain Valley.

On this day we could see only their outline in the distant clouds.

GRN PL8

Looking around a parking lot in Bristol, you will see almost exclusively
green plates.

the scene today at Shaw's

with Deer Leap mountain behind

Vermonters do not often leave the state, and they freely admit that they do not like others to come visit.

Leaf Peepers invade during the Fall, getting on everyone’s nerves by driving slowly and carefully through the unfamiliar, dangerous roads and offending the locals with Massachusetts, New Jersey and Connecticut license plates. I missed witnessing this phenomenon by showing up after the leaves fell, but I frequently hear all about those unwelcome flatlanders from my new friends here (on a related note...I guess Arizona is far enough away to seem exotic rather than invasive?).

it's okay...winter has its own appeal.

The App Gap: Speed Limit 40mph.

One thing I’ve noticed here is that the posted speed limits tend to actually represent the maximum safe speed.


In Arizona and other places I’ve driven, I estimate that 15 mph over the speed limit is reasonably safe. That isn’t to say that I always travel at 15 over, but it wouldn’t put my life in danger. In Vermont, however, I sometimes have trouble even achieving the speed limit. All the roads are windy through the characteristic hills and valleys, and most follow a river side by side. As a new driver accustomed to travelling in a straight line on “one o’ them roads where you’re goin the same direction as the guy next to you,” with Arizona plates it is difficult to act like you know what you are doing… particularly in inclement weather. I got passed all the time during my first few weeks here.






I must give myself some credit, though: I’ve learned a lot from navigating these curves. I would even say the experience has given me a new appreciation for my sporty little BM’r, especially with brand new studded snow tires and green plates of my own...

sure looks good chillin at home in Lincoln don't she? photo December 2

Thanksgiving Football

Well it's Thanksgiving Day
and I just want to say
while we stay warm inside
with a spirit so gay

There are men today working
(Lions, don't let us down)
We work up an appetite
to Tom Brady's sacked frown

Let's keep it up boys,
you are doing just great!
The Steelers couldn't cut it
so Detroit, seal their fate.

An Intervention

Now that I’m back in transition, I decided to drop back into Eastern Pennsylvania for a few days. Where else would I go first? I was feeling incomplete and just very “blah.” Here is a quick list of reasons why:

1. I’ve been hanging out in the forest with a bunch of dirty boys.
2. My shower was a dark, 3 ½ foot square.
3. I haven’t blowdried my hair in three months.
4. I hardly remember how to do my makeup.
5. All of my belongings are shoved back into my tiny winter deathtrap of a car with no closet in their foreseeable future.
6. I have two pairs of shoes I can realistically wear, one of which now has a hole in the bottom. My poor cowboy boots..
7. All of the clothes I thought were clean, smell like maple syrup!

The list could go on, but it’s just too depressing to think about. In short, I needed an intervention. So I drove for 12 hours straight to come see the girl who can knock some sense into me and make me feel pretty again no matter what crazy lifestyle I’ve been living. My BFF Kara luckily had the day off today, so the first thing we did was clean our laundry. I didn’t have time to rewash everything, but it was a start. Kara painted my toenails a very “Big City Fall” color of deep purple. Finally, she surprised me with the thing I most DESPERATELY needed.

I needed it so desperately that I can’t even believe I am going to show this.

I laugh every time I look at it.

...before and after!

YUCK!! hahaha. You have to be able to laugh at yourself sometimes, right? Especially now that I'm looking and feeling so much better.


Now if you're thinking that I am shallow and superficial, ask yourself, if you were conducting a job interview, who would you rather hire? The before or the after?

this ain't exactly the southern hemisphere

At dawn's first light,

a weeks'-awaited sight!

Frost sparkles in grass

as tincho in glass...

In case you were wondering, it is starting to get cold here. The first frost I saw was at Nesowadnehunk on 10/2, on our way up the tote road to South Branch Pond to hike the Traveller loop. It was one of the most beautiful hikes I've done in the park.

I got my first real preview of the coming winter two weeks ago, when a bunch of us on the trail crew did our sunrise ascent up Katahdin. We hiked up to the backcountry campground at Chimney Pond on Friday by headlamp, where we spent the night in the yert - a small circular structure with a pentagonal windowed ceiling. After warming up a few minutes by the woodstove (which creates a heat comparable to the gates of hell in a building of that size, no matter what the temperature is outside), we walked over to the pond. Situated below the Saddle, the Knife's Edge, and all three peaks of Mount Katahdin, at an elevation around 2,700 feet, the wind across Chimney Pond was unbelievably cold and strong. It was also a clear night with a new moon, so it was only by the light of a million stars that we were able to make out the distinct outlines of Pamola, South Peak, and Baxter Peak all above us. In the morning, before a 6:30 sunrise, we climbed up to the summit via the Saddle, where we were greeted by more whipping winds and a few inches of snow on what, as I've mentioned, is the highest elevated point in the state of Maine.

Back at ground level, the highs today and yesterday were in the 40s. With overnight lows regularly below freezing, we now have to leave the faucets running overnight (this goes against everything I know, I like to tell people). We actually had to leave them running over 48 hours straight this past week, as we went on our only real "spike camp" of the season, where we camp near the trail where we are working. It was only for two nights, and I honestly wasn't really all that excited to be going because (obviously) I expected to FREEZE. However... it weren't too bad.

To backtrack: Monday was our Fall Meeting and Banquet, which I explained to Sarah is "like the Wine Fiesta of Baxter Park." It was a fun and interesting day, with every employee of the park in attendance, from the Director, Jensen Bissell, to the famous Maine author (and Daicey Pond ranger) Andy Vietze, all the way down to the measly Trail Crew interns. After the meeting, Lily (information and education department intern) and I used the mirror and plug in the bathroom at headquarters to do our hair and makeup for the first time in three months, and metamorphasize back into our civilized selves. I must say it felt good when all heads turned to us upon arrival at the fine River Drivers restaurant (incidentally, I knew where this place was because of a mishap several weeks ago). "You look like my attorney," Ned, in his Stihl hat, told me.

Since we got an eight-hour day in on Monday (usually we work four tens with three day weekends), we worked eight hour days Tuesday through Friday. We started at the usual time, 7:00, but finished work at 3:30. It was nice on spike camp because we were able to get our fire started, cook and eat dinner before dark, and get to bed literally by 7:30. The place we were staying was on Katahdin Lake, a recently acquired section of the park. It is an area just East of Katahdin, the final parcel which Governor Baxter wished to add to the now-complete park. We hiked back to the truck on Thursday, stopping to complete our most important and awesome task of the trip. A beautiful 90 year old hemlock right next to the trail had a deer stand in it (like a treehouse but basically just a chair). As you can probably guess, she had to come down.

Special thanks to my chainsaw, Mushrat.

The next day, yesterday, "work" consisted of a tour of the SFMA (with the forester, Dee) as well as some points of historical interest along the Telos section of the Golden Road (with Paul). Bitter wind brought in a few flurries of snow. This is just the tip of the iceberg, they tell me. Every day it's,"JeezumCROW, Meghan. You're Cold? Y'know this ain't exactly the southern hemisphere." Regardless, it was a great day. We'd been looking forward to this tour for awhile, crossing our fingers that it would even be a go. One look at these pictures and you'll understand why.

Shook behind the controls, in the harvester

a forwarder

Five more days here. Hmm. What's next for Miss Rainorshine?

a stroll down to the Abol store

About once a weekend I join my two favorite boys for a stroll down to the Abol store.

There are two paths (Abol Stream Trail and Abol Pond Trail), each a little under two miles, that take us out of park boundaries to a junction where the infamous Golden Road merges with the Appalachian Trail on Abol Bridge. This is where ridge runner CJ greets AT thru-hikers as they come out of the Hundred Mile Wilderness on their final stretch of trail before entering the park to summit Mount Katahdin.

Katahdin, as seen from Abol Bridge

...and a little birch bending on our way back.

green yellow red orange

yellow tunnel

red lights on the ground

four color mountainside with grey clouds

white misty morning at Trout Brook Farm

such a sweet lumberjack

A few of my readers may recall that when I was 16 I twisted my ankle pretty bad at church camp and it's never been quite the same since. Well darn if I didn't roll that same ankle (twice) yesterday while hiking down from Chimney Pond, where we spent our workweek replacing a bridge on the trail.

"Meghan, just take off your pack for a minute...Does that feel better?"

I smiled. "Yeah."

The first time I wouldn't let him take it, but I couldn't say no again. Ned swung my pack up right over his head like it weighed five pounds.

"You ready? Let's go."

I smiled at him. I didn't much mind feeling like a spoiled princess, I guess.

"Such a sweet lumberjack."

I skipped lightly from rock to rock behind him all the way down, feeling like the luckiest girl in all of Baxter.

Wednesday to Wednesday

Yesterday was the last of an eight-day workweek. We worked Wednesday to Wednesday on the annual Hunt Trail project. The Hunt Trail takes you to the Northern terminus of the Appalachian Trail (Baxter Peak), and it is the route I took when I climbed Katahdin for the first time in July. About 1.3 miles up the trail is a granite staircase which starts after you pass Katahdin Stream Falls. Many friends of Baxter Park volunteer annually on this project on their long Labor Day weekend. It was great to meet and work with all of them, in addition to working for the first time out of training with our own trail crew.

There were three stations between which we all switched day to day. The Monster was located on the portion of trail where the steps will be placed. In a valley below was the Pit, where granite boulders were excavated, split, and wrapped in chains to be lifted above. At the Owl station, on the other side of the valley, was my favorite job. I watched through binoculars as each load was lifted out of the Pit by a grip hoist system using a steel cable running between the Owl and the Monster, then pulled in on a hand line of rope by about six people at the Monster. The three stations communicated by radio to coordinate the effort, and on our best days we lifted 21 and 22 loads from the Pit to the Monster.

Last night, our weekly barbecue was epic. Paul’s dad was there, and the volunteers from the project provided us one of the best dinners we’ve had since we’ve been here. I finished stuffing myself with about three times the size of a normal serving of hot cherry chocolate cobbler.

Fall is coming and life is most definitely good.

bring me a leaf

red maple sugar maple mountain ash (not an ash) balsam fir (shiney fur) white birch yellow birch spruce (spikey spruce) cedar, moose wood (striped maple) deciduous vs coniferous (hard wood soft wood)

on a bridge

Ned, Shook and me at Trout Brook Farm.

On our way to Carnage Night

I drove Alex and Shook. First we went to the wrong place, a quiet, upscale restaurant. It was silent with no bartender in sight. A waitress walked up.

“Hi, I think we’re in the wrong place, we’re looking for Carnage Night?”
“That’s right over at the Three Rivers Rafting place. You go straight on the dirt road, and it’ll be right there on the right.”

I retraced back the quarter mile of dirt road that was our wrong turn.

“I’d tellum, Oh yeah it’s a sheort cut. You jus’ take-at dert road-er, ovr-at hill-der. They’ be abolda See where they wor goin but they-be lookin across a field.”

“Oh, a kitty!”

Sam laughed loudly.

“D’at ain’t a kitty. That is, nota kitty.” Big smile. “You doe-wanna hi’dat…’eah-at’s a skunk.” Slow high pitched laughter.

Meggie goes to Baxter

Trail Crew Supervisor:

Paul Sannicandro

Abol Crew Leader:

Steve

Abol Crew Members:

Alex

Meggie

Mike R.*

Ned

Sam

Kidney Crew Leader:

Neal

Kidney Crew Members:

Chase

John

Mike

Tony*

Shane

*carrying over from summer to fall crew.

I drove from Aunt Robin and Uncle Bob’s house in Littleton to Baxter Park headquarters last Sunday, where the Fall trail crew was meeting Paul Sannicandro at 4:00 pm. We had quick introductions and an explanation of the plan for the evening, which was for nine of us to drive to “Hannafuhd’s” (Hannaford) across the street to pick up groceries for the week, then follow Paul in his park vehicle back to the cabin at Abol Pond (home to half of us for the season), meet the trail crew leaders (one for the Abol crew, one for the Kidney crew), divide up the food, and then the people assigned to live at Kidney Pond would drive on to there; each crew would have dinner and settle in for the night.

The grocery trip was very efficient. We paired up, each pair receiving a list with two aisle numbers and a list of items and quantities. Sam was my partner. Sam is a Vermont Redneck. Already certified at something like three levels of chainsaw training, he finished his last year of high school in a logging program and has been working since he was eight years old.

Monday morning we had to be ready at the usual time, 7:00am. Between 6:00 and 7:00 workdays we make and eat breakfast, pack our lunch and get dressed in our uniforms, and at 7:00 we begin work for the day. On this morning we had to be packed for our three-day, two-night wilderness skills trip in the SFMA (Scientific Forest Management Area). Starting at 7:00 we divvied up day packs, headlamps, helmets and other PPE (personal protective equipment) for the season and then did some orientation and training, including watching videos at headquarters and getting a driving tour of Millinocket. Then we drove up I-95 to the park’s North entrance, heading to the volunteer cabin at Trout Brook Farm where we stayed for the night. About half of us (including me) slept outside, mostly in tents. I just put my sleeping bag on my tarp so I could look at the stars, which the many mosquitoes proved difficult to enjoy. One good thing about sleeping outside is that you wake up early. I woke up at about 5:15 and from my dewy bed caught a glimpse of our crew leader Steve doing pushups on the screened-in front porch. John, retired Navy veteran of 30 years, next walked around from the bunkhouse in back of the cabin with a towel over his shoulder. A few minutes later I rolled up my sleeping bag, folded my tarp, and went inside to get dressed and ready for the day. After breakfast Paul briefed us on each crew’s itinerary. First up was Leave No Trace training, taught by the husband-and-wife team Gabe and Marcia Williamson at Frost Pond. Gabe is a ranger, and Marcia is an interpretation specialist. She interprets Governor Percival Baxter’s gift to us; Baxter purchased the land that is now Baxter State Park parcel by parcel with his own money, and then set up a trust fund which continues to independently fund the Park.

After LNT, the two crews split up. The Abol Pond crew drove through the SFMA and parked at a spot a half-mile away from the lean-to site at Webster Lake, left the truck there and hiked to the site. We didn’t have too much planned the rest of that day, so we relaxed, went swimming, and Mike R and I took the resident canoe over to a small island in Webster Lake right across from our campsite. We saw a frog there that must have been at least 1.5 lbs. It started to rain for a short time so we headed back to camp (the only time we experienced anything but sunshiney weather on the trip). After dinner we hung our bear bag and went to bed. The next morning we backpacked eight miles east on the Freezeout Trail, to the northwest corner of Lake Matagamon. There we met Paul, who took the six of us (Abol Crew) out on four canoes for a bit to teach us canoe strokes and practice T-rescues (in case someone’s canoe flips). Back at camp we worked on a few more skills (knots, compasses) before dinner. The next day, Thursday, we took the canoes southeast along the lake back down to Trout Brook Farm to meet the Kidney Crew. My canoe partner for the day was Ned, a big football-player type also from Vermont and into forestry (but not a redneck). We drove south through the park all the way back to our cabin at Abol, where we cleaned and put everything away, then got ready for our weekly barbeque. While we started dinner, Steve, Neal, and Mike R., who are training for an October 17 marathon, went for a seven-mile run.

In addition to our two trail crews, ridge runner CJ joined us for dinner. He is an interesting example of the type of person who lives a lifestyle I am only beginning to understand. During college, if I remember correctly, he transferred four times while earning his degree in elementary education. All he learned in college was that he loves to travel, he said. Apparently it is much easier to travel worldwide than I would have thought. All you really need is a plane ticket, and accommodations in foreign countries cost pennies on the dollar of what an American like me would expect to pay here. So CJ works seasonal “poverty jobs” such as the one he has now, saving more money for travel than he did teaching. As ridge runner, CJ explains in a voice that echoes Owen Wilson’s, “I hike around and if I see some litter, I pick it up; if I see people scratching their heads, I answer some questions.” After the barbeque we (Alex, CJ, Mike, Mike R, Neal and I) caravanned up to Kidney Pond where ranger(?) and amateur astronomer Doug was hosting “Star Magic.” In addition to making our own star wheels and going outside to identify constellations, we also witnessed on this clear night the peak of the Perseid meteor shower, a stunning show.

Friday morning I went with many trail crew members into Millinocket to get our paychecks, do laundry, and take advantage of free wifi at the laundromat. We ate lunch across the street at Angelo’s. I ordered a salad and jalapeno poppers, but was disappointed to find out that they no longer have jalapeno poppers (guess they aren’t a big seller in these parts), so I went with mozzarella sticks instead. Mike R. drove Neal and me an hour away to Bangor, the nearest city. We went to the local YWCA gym, walked around town, shopped at the natural foods store (I bought some granola, dried apricots, and chocolate covered ginger), and had dinner at an Indian restaurant before heading back to Baxter.

Back at home I threw my small paper bag of bulk foods on my bed, showered and went outside to hang out by the fire for a bit. Not five minutes after I went to bed, I heard the scuttling of a mouse in my room. I turned on my headlamp and spotted one running across the floor near the foot of my bed! I decided to get out of bed and take care of the problem. First and foremost of course I went for the food – just in time too, because when I shined my headlamp on it, another mouse was hanging off the curtain about to jump into the bag! I put it safely in the refrigerator, then organized the entire room, utilizing every drawer, hook, and trunk in the room to completely eliminate clutter. I didn’t hear a mouse again for the rest of the night…lesson learned.

Saturday, six of us (John, Mike R, Ned, Steve, Tony and I) went on an eight mile hike up the Doubletop trail starting at Kidney Pond and down the other side of the mountain to where we staged a car at the Nesowadnehunk campground. That took up most of the day yesterday, and we had a pretty slow evening at Abol last night.

This morning Sam and I walked from our cabin along a part of the Appalachian Trail that took us to a store 1.6 miles from home where I picked up a Maine bumper sticker and a six-pack. After that I drove to town and spent most of today hanging out at McDonald’s, the other place in town with wifi. At 6:00 I met up with several crew members at Hannaford for our weekly grocery trip, joined them for dinner at another pizza place in town, and am now at the Laundromat providing you all with this extensive update. What a week!

Back in Maine since Wednesday Morning

In preparation for my internship,

I’ve been shopping almost constantly.

To the point where I was getting sick of it,

Until I realized that there were amazingly precious things

For sale here, really cheap.

The Proper Use of the Connie

I think my blog is a sufficiently private forum to discuss openly the sensitive but hilarious subject of Connie. Connie is a real person; fortunately, who she is, is not relevant to one’s enjoyment of the Connie. The only thing one needs, in order to thoroughly appreciate Connie, is to gain an understanding of the proper use of the Connie (n.). Comprehension (or, Connie) of the Connie afforded us many laughs over the three days I spent at Martha’s Cottage, the Peets’ Chautauqua Lake house in upstate New York.

Connies can be used almost boundlessly before they diminish in comedic value, though ultimately one may choose at his discretion to preserve them, only because the best Connie will always be an unexpected one. Connie is simply a replacement for another word. Traditionally they have been used as a proxy for a two-syllable C word.

Why am I still up puzzling at this hour?

Probably because you had one too many cups of Connie.

It is important use the correct tone of voice when issuing a Connie. It may be helpful to imagine a man in a tuxedo, prone to winking, holding a cigar or a martini. Sean Connery, perhaps. When one is comfortable with two-syllable C word Connies, he will no doubt wish to experiment with Connies out of traditional bounds. Read the following examples, then feel free to Connie away!

TV and Movies: "Are You Smarter Than A Connie?"

I went to a picnic and Maity brought Avocados... Ashley brought Bonbons... Grayson brought Connie...Steven brought Duoz...Grammy brought Eggs (that were deviled)...

It was a beautiful day at the lake,

albeit partly Connie.

When I want to relax, nothing beats stretching out on the beach with a good Connie.

Mom and Maity have only played cornhole one time before, but they almost beat Steven and me.

I guess they had a touch of Connie's luck.

I wish I had more pictures from this weekend, but my Connie got sand in it so now all I have is my cell phone.

A Dream Come True

Greetings from Westerville, Ohio! Yesterday my step cousin, Sarah Peet, married her high school sweetheart, Ross Gordon. I arrived on Friday just in time to go to their rehearsal dinner. At first I was surprised to be invited to the dinner, but when I arrived I was quickly reminded why. These are some of the most welcoming families I've met, who truly want everyone to share in their many blessings. They really went all out and thought of everything this weekend. At the rehearsal dinner, teary-eyed Ross and Sarah personally introduced their 16-person wedding party. We then watched a slide show of pictures starting with two little babies, and going all through their high school and college years (Sarah went to Virginia Tech while Ross went to Virginia). Here is my favorite photo of the couple at their surprise engagement party. You can see the excitement and love in their eyes, which in person appears x10.

The wedding day was even more fabulous. It rained in the afternoon, but when we came outside the church after the ceremony, it had cleared up and was nice and breezy with some sun. The reception was at the clubhouse overlooking the golf course in the Peets' neighborhood. There were about 250 guests, all of whom were asked to go into a photo booth and affix one of the two copies of our photos in a little book and write a personal message. Champagne toasts were heartfelt...chicken florentine was delicious...the dance floor was packed all night. The happy couple made their exit in a Porsche convertible, and are now on a plane to Aruba. All in all, a dream come true of a wedding!

Paul Sannicandro Here

It's been a relaxing week for me in West Chester. Today is my last day here for awhile and Kara and Randy (Mom and Dad, as I've been calling them) are both off work, so we decided to Wawa up and drive to the shore at lovely Sea Isle City, New Jersey.

As we got into town, I answered a phone call from an unknown number.

"Paul Sannicandro here with Baxter State Park." (!!!!!)

This is the guy in charge of the trail crew internship program I applied for. After I submitted my application, he had emailed me saying all the spots for the fall crew had already been filled...but as it turns out, someone backed out and so Mr. Sannicandro called to see if I was still interested. We set up a phone interview for 3:00, at which time I answered lying on the beautiful beach in the wind and sun. Needless to say, the interview went great, and he offered me the position!

Back in West Chester, Dad is grilling up some hamburgers and hot dogs for dinner. Yumm!

Penny and her new friend Lexie

An Old Mountain Goat

Yesterday I enjoyed 360 degree views of the great state of Maine from its highest point, Baxter Peak on Mount Katahdin.

I also encountered some interesting people while hiking. I think my independent look gave many of them the idea that I am very experienced. My three favorite comments were:

"Nice move."

"You're like an old mountain goat."

and, on the way down,

"You're like a sneaky ghost."

The Newlywed Burkes

The Newlywed Burkes had the good luck of rain on the morning of their wedding day, but it was over by 10am so we were able to enjoy beautiful sunny weather all afternoon...

…and a perfect summery evening for an outdoor clam bake reception at Brie’s parents’ house on the island.

The day after the wedding we were all pretty tired. After cleaning up the rental house and splurging on chicken-fried steak for breakfast, we had an unhurried afternoon beginning with World Cup soccer finals from the best seats in the house at the Sand Bar.

Have you seen Jaws? I haven’t, but we went to the bridge where some kid jumps off and gets attacked in the movie. It was probably the highest jump I’ve ever done…scary!

Finally, the Cuppis hosted a sunset barbeque in their de-tented backyard for all the wedding guests still on the island. Highlights included Frisbee…corn on the cob…and the outdoor shower.