Returning to the mountain

It isn't really a mountain, but today we went to Gunstock for an afternoon of skiing.  During my school years, I went there 8 Friday's every winter.  In seventh grade I had my first date there, a Saturday of skiing with a boy.  When I was trying to finish my MALS degree, I took a part-time job for one season at the Guest Services desk because I was broke.  That was 1997.  I haven't been avoiding it, exactly, but I haven't raced to get back there either.  The memories are both good and not so good.  However, it seemed like the best skiing choice today.  Time to get over my reluctance.

After a few warm days, the arctic chill returned this morning.   Goodbye light windbreaker or sweatshirt, finger-less mittens and headgear, hello down jacket, hat and thick gloves.  Luckily the wind wasn't too fierce and it felt nice to be outdoors.

First up -- a ride up the magic carpet for JT and a skill assessment by Robert.  After one trip down, it seemed like the best choice for Robert, Heather and JT to stay on the bunny slope.  Selim and I took the Penny Pitou chair lift up to the top of the gentle and slow ski slopes.  We developed a mantra over the course of the day, while we rode the chair.  Before dismount we would say, "Bar up.  Ski poles in one hand.  Tips up.  Prepare to scoot off, but don't move, other wise mom will yell ahhhhh."  I get really nervous when the safety bar is up and we still have a ways to go before we get to the landing zone.

I had forgotten how much fun it is to ski.  I haven't been since 2001 or 2002.  There is something about the swish of the skis over the snow, the speed, feeling the wind of my face, and the fresh air that is really great.  Also, I don't feel the pressure to be an expert.  As long as I can keep up with Selim, it is all good.  He is trying to get his skis parallel, but for now, most of his skiing is done in the snowplow position.  And I'm slightly better than that.  Just slightly.

After an hour or so, all five of us were riding the chair and skiing down.  It was so fun.  We skied in different groups, riding up the chair in different configurations.

Halfway through our afternoon, Selim needed a hot chocolate break.  Heather graciously took the two boys inside to get warm.  Robert rode the big chair up to the top of the mountain with me.  I didn't really want to ski down, but I wanted to take in the view from the top.  Hence, I had to go up.

I took a couple of selfies on the way and at the top.

The view from the top is beautiful -- the lake below and mountains off in the distance.  Remarkable.  The way down was a big nervy.  Some of the easy trails seemed to be closed and it felt like I was trying to go down a few of the intermediate trails.  Considering it had been 15+ years since the last time I was on skis going downhill, I did OK.  But some of the steeps were icy and I didn't have complete control of myself.  I didn't fall and I didn't crash into anybody else, so, success.

Once to the top was enough.  I went in to the warming room and had to cool down.  I was sweaty from trying to get down in one piece.  My right thigh was shaking, and taking a fifteen minute break was a good idea.

We didn't want to rest too long, as our ticket was only good until 4:00.  We went back over to the gentle slopes and made continuous loops of good skiing and riding the chair back up.  As the afternoon went on, fewer and fewer people were on the hill and it felt like our own private mountain, more or less.

Two days in a row of outdoor activity, on the snow, with family.  What could be better?

You know you are in the woods with a scientist when...

I missed the family epic, 2-hour snowshoe adventure on Saturday, as I was putting in some overtime hours at work.  To make up for it, everybody agreed that another outing would be fun on Sunday afternoon.  We hit the cross-country trail behind the Upper Building and snowshoed in an arc until we came out at the far end of the East Field.  Besides exercise, the objectives were to see how many deer beds we could spot and if Fletcher's old cabin was still standing.

The snow was wet and deep.  About fifteen minutes into our trek, the youngest member of our troupe reconsidered the whole plan.  After a bit of cajoling, he decided that he could persevere.  And on we went.

We were successful in both of our objectives.  We spotted deer tracks right away.  Those led us to the many, many deer beds.  My picture doesn't do the scene justice.  But it was super sweet to see so many places, under trees, in sheltered areas, where the deer had congregated.

And where they congregate, they also poop.

We passed by piles and piles of poop.  As JT and Selim were shouting out "Poop!  More poop!" Robert chimed in with, "Do you guys know any other names for deer poop?"  Only a scientist would start that discussion.

"Poo-poo!"

"Scat!"

"Caca!"

"Poops!"

Realizing that the conversation was getting a bit animated, Robert suggested the more scientific word, "droppings."  Since that wasn't as exciting of a term, the boys settled down and kept on tromping along.

Forty five minutes of trail going and bush whacking, Fletcher's cabin came into view.  I don't know that last time I was inside.  My memory of the interior includes the smell of wood smoke, a thick red carpet and something patchwork made up of velvet and luxurious fabrics and guitar music on the cassette player.  Of course my recollections could be completely off base and I could be remembering being in the sap house with Fletcher -- the smell of wood smoke and guitar music floating and shimmering on the rising sweet maple sap steam that made the interior of the sap house so warm, moist, and inviting.

The cabin is locked up now and Selim tried to get a glimpse of the inside, but there wasn't much to see.

We continued on, past more and more piles of scat/droppings/poop, until we came to the old porcupine dens.  There wasn't evidence of a porcupine in residence and we moved on.

Near by, I thought I spied the cross country trail.  We had been tromping in the woods and had left the trail a ways back.

Turns out it was not the trail, but the deer highway.

As the sun was dropping, we emerged at the top end of the East Field.  Selim had veered away a bit and clamored over some trees to make it into the clearing.  He had had enough adventure for the day.

I waited for Heather, JT, and Robert to appear.

The sun cast a rosy glow on our already rosy cheeks, as we headed down the field, past Master's House and the Hall, back to Mom and Robert's.

A most excellent adventure.

Snowshoe adventure

Selim and I went on a great snowshoe adventure today.  We drove out to Adam's Point on Great Bay to begin our trek.  As usual, when the drive takes longer than expected, he starts to question whether or not I know where I am going.  I tease him about having so little faith in me.  Today was no different.  Both of us were relieved to see the sign and the parking spaces at the UNH facility.

There was a group of six adults just getting on their snowshoes as we pulled in.  It took a little time for our groups to get separated.  We got off the trail and went to look at the ducks and geese in the Bay and that helped but us behind and not right on the heals of the other group.

The wind was blowing a bit and the temperature was in the twenties.  Cold.  We dressed in layers and enjoyed romping around, looking at the tracks, listening to the birds, and feeling the sun on our faces.  We didn't force the pace in order to finish the activity and get home.  I took some pictures, not a big surprise.  And most of the time, Selim didn't mind too much.

All along the trail, there were benches made out of different material.  I really liked the rock bench,

and the wooden one.

We noticed animal prints.  Selim said I should take a picture of one in particular.  He suggested it was from a bobcat.  I thought a big dog was more likely.

As we climbed the last hill, Selim started running and throwing his poles into the snow.  He proposed a new Olympic event -- snowshoe and javelin.  If skiing and rifle shooting are an event, why not snowshoeing and pole throwing?  Sounded good to me.

At the top of the hill, Selim enjoyed the coolness of the snow and the chance to get horizontal.  I assumed his eyes were closed and that I could snap one more picture of him.  But I heard this, "Mom, I know what you are doing."  His ears were working overtime.

It was a great day.  As we got in the car, he said it was one of our best adventures...ever.  What a compliment!