June 14, 2008 - Day Four
It's rained all night. No bright morning light to greet us when we wake. And showers continue through the early morning hours.
Riley has been sleeping under the covers, down around where my calves are. I have to keep shoving him over. He has a propensity, during the night, to move closer to me if I move for example, on my side, and then I'm unable to move on my back, because he's too close. This isn't our queen-sized bed at home, it's a mere double, and we haven't room to spare.
Button is sensibly sleeping in the other bedroom, on top of the second twin bed, beside the one Angelyne is sleeping on. She wakes early in the morning, and asks to be taken outside to pee. Button, not Angelyne. Riley can't be bothered until we actually get out of bed. But he's only 7 and she's almost 15, perhaps a matter of elderly bladder control.
Once she's finished, Irving gets back in bed, but Button is disgruntled. She's up, figures we should be, too, and keeps whining about our laziness. Which awakens Angie, and she leaves her bedroom and enters ours. I shift over as close as I can to her grandfather without shoving him off the bed, and make room for her, beside me.
Unsettling Riley in the process. Tough. Angie settles in beside me, says she slept well, but Button was restless through the night, and she snores, too. She lets me know she'd like waffles for breakfast, and where are we planning to go, today? Which is when her grandfather chimes in and offers a few recommendations. We settle on a moderate climb for the day, the West Rattlesnake. About an hour's drive.
Time to rise and shine. Starting with showers all around, and feeding Button and Riley. Then it's time for our breakfast and we all make busy doing it, especially me. With her waffles Angie still wants her turkey strips (in lieu of bacon, which her grandfather prefers). After breakfast, Irving takes Button and Riley out for their walk- and sniff-about. The showers have stopped, the clouds are breaking up, and it looks as though this will be a lovely day.
The air is rapidly warming, and the weather report tells us to expect temperatures in the 80s again, with light breezes. We pack Angie's lunch, prepare our backpacks and make off, driving toward Holderness and South Sandwich to the West Rattlesnakes. Not a dreadfully long drive, but a most pleasant one. The highway with its mountain landscapes, the median filled with daisies, cornflowers, lupins and bedding grasses.
At the trailhead parking lot there's quite a commotion and it looks full. Cars are parked along the side of the road, but we drive into the lot anyway, and find a spare spot. The parking lot is full because there's a wedding party assembling there, of all things. Young men and women with their children running about, being herded to caution because of the traffic, being encouraged to throw balls to relieve the tension of waiting for everyone to assemble.
They're boisterous and happy for the most part, although there are some sullen faces, mostly belonging to pre-teen girls who aren't disporting themselves like the boys, climbing trees, catching balls. Everyone is dressed climbing-casually; hard to climb a mountain in high-heeled shoes and frilly dresses. This is obviously a post-wedding celebration, somewhat different than most, but healthily sensible. In honour of "John and Ashley".
We begin our ascent of the trailhead, one long familiar to us, but new to Angelyne, and we keep up a steady explanation of everything for her information. Our climb is, as usual, slow and careful, giving due caution to the intertwining of roots and placement of rocks on the trail. An ongoing series of wide steps have been hacked out of the trail here and there, and we do our best to avoid them; they're better suited to the stride of giants than we mere mortals.
The crowd of family and friends down below are still milling about, their shouted encouragement to one another growing fainter as we progress. Still, we're passed now and again by several other climbing groups, couples and families out for a day's jaunt. This is a very popular trail and doesn't pose too much of a physical challenge for the moderately fit. There are ample mosquitoes to harass us, but we're glad to note, no black flies.
Simple: no running water close by, but the occasional pool of standing water. Lucky Angie; she disturbs a small garter snake and it slithers swiftly into the undergrowth before we're even able to see it. She shrieks in alarm, and we leap to attention. Too late, darn. She decides not to forge on ahead, and walks abreast with us for the remainder of the ascent. We climb steadily with small resting periods now and then.
Beside the trail there are maples, oaks, large old pines and hemlocks, spruce and birch. The undergrowth sports yarrow newly blooming, blackberries and the occasional daisy, along with purple cow vetch. The trail itself, as it rises and we with it, takes on that peculiar yellowish, pale beige hue I always associate with its upper reaches, like some kind of crushed shale. Sometimes Riley's apricot coloured hair seems to melt into the same colour as the trail.
We see yellow Admirals in flight, and robins, and hear an oven bird in the near distance. The day is warming considerably, aided by our energetic outpouring of the morning's caloric intake. We steadily slap away the ubiquitous mosquitoes. And, wouldn't you know it, the wedding party is finally on its way and doing its best to overtake us. At least the first portion, the more assiduous climbers.
The initial group of the wedding party diverges off the main path and assemble where we know there is a look-out, while we turn left toward the top of the mountain. It takes us a mere ten minutes of additional climbing time to access the bare shield of the mountain top. A handful of other climbers are already there, sitting in choice spots, eating lunch, enjoying the spectacular views of Big Squam Lake below.
We begin to take pictures, and then all of a sudden the space becomes crowded as the wedding party has finally arrived, all of them, adults and children, milling about, cooing in appreciation at the landscape below. End of picture-taking. Angelyne decides she'd prefer to have her lunch back in the car. Button and Riley have some water, a few dog treats, and we begin our descent.
Meeting and greeting people coming and going.
Riley has been sleeping under the covers, down around where my calves are. I have to keep shoving him over. He has a propensity, during the night, to move closer to me if I move for example, on my side, and then I'm unable to move on my back, because he's too close. This isn't our queen-sized bed at home, it's a mere double, and we haven't room to spare.
Button is sensibly sleeping in the other bedroom, on top of the second twin bed, beside the one Angelyne is sleeping on. She wakes early in the morning, and asks to be taken outside to pee. Button, not Angelyne. Riley can't be bothered until we actually get out of bed. But he's only 7 and she's almost 15, perhaps a matter of elderly bladder control.
Once she's finished, Irving gets back in bed, but Button is disgruntled. She's up, figures we should be, too, and keeps whining about our laziness. Which awakens Angie, and she leaves her bedroom and enters ours. I shift over as close as I can to her grandfather without shoving him off the bed, and make room for her, beside me.
Unsettling Riley in the process. Tough. Angie settles in beside me, says she slept well, but Button was restless through the night, and she snores, too. She lets me know she'd like waffles for breakfast, and where are we planning to go, today? Which is when her grandfather chimes in and offers a few recommendations. We settle on a moderate climb for the day, the West Rattlesnake. About an hour's drive.
Time to rise and shine. Starting with showers all around, and feeding Button and Riley. Then it's time for our breakfast and we all make busy doing it, especially me. With her waffles Angie still wants her turkey strips (in lieu of bacon, which her grandfather prefers). After breakfast, Irving takes Button and Riley out for their walk- and sniff-about. The showers have stopped, the clouds are breaking up, and it looks as though this will be a lovely day.
The air is rapidly warming, and the weather report tells us to expect temperatures in the 80s again, with light breezes. We pack Angie's lunch, prepare our backpacks and make off, driving toward Holderness and South Sandwich to the West Rattlesnakes. Not a dreadfully long drive, but a most pleasant one. The highway with its mountain landscapes, the median filled with daisies, cornflowers, lupins and bedding grasses.
At the trailhead parking lot there's quite a commotion and it looks full. Cars are parked along the side of the road, but we drive into the lot anyway, and find a spare spot. The parking lot is full because there's a wedding party assembling there, of all things. Young men and women with their children running about, being herded to caution because of the traffic, being encouraged to throw balls to relieve the tension of waiting for everyone to assemble.
They're boisterous and happy for the most part, although there are some sullen faces, mostly belonging to pre-teen girls who aren't disporting themselves like the boys, climbing trees, catching balls. Everyone is dressed climbing-casually; hard to climb a mountain in high-heeled shoes and frilly dresses. This is obviously a post-wedding celebration, somewhat different than most, but healthily sensible. In honour of "John and Ashley".
We begin our ascent of the trailhead, one long familiar to us, but new to Angelyne, and we keep up a steady explanation of everything for her information. Our climb is, as usual, slow and careful, giving due caution to the intertwining of roots and placement of rocks on the trail. An ongoing series of wide steps have been hacked out of the trail here and there, and we do our best to avoid them; they're better suited to the stride of giants than we mere mortals.
The crowd of family and friends down below are still milling about, their shouted encouragement to one another growing fainter as we progress. Still, we're passed now and again by several other climbing groups, couples and families out for a day's jaunt. This is a very popular trail and doesn't pose too much of a physical challenge for the moderately fit. There are ample mosquitoes to harass us, but we're glad to note, no black flies.
Simple: no running water close by, but the occasional pool of standing water. Lucky Angie; she disturbs a small garter snake and it slithers swiftly into the undergrowth before we're even able to see it. She shrieks in alarm, and we leap to attention. Too late, darn. She decides not to forge on ahead, and walks abreast with us for the remainder of the ascent. We climb steadily with small resting periods now and then.
Beside the trail there are maples, oaks, large old pines and hemlocks, spruce and birch. The undergrowth sports yarrow newly blooming, blackberries and the occasional daisy, along with purple cow vetch. The trail itself, as it rises and we with it, takes on that peculiar yellowish, pale beige hue I always associate with its upper reaches, like some kind of crushed shale. Sometimes Riley's apricot coloured hair seems to melt into the same colour as the trail.
We see yellow Admirals in flight, and robins, and hear an oven bird in the near distance. The day is warming considerably, aided by our energetic outpouring of the morning's caloric intake. We steadily slap away the ubiquitous mosquitoes. And, wouldn't you know it, the wedding party is finally on its way and doing its best to overtake us. At least the first portion, the more assiduous climbers.
The initial group of the wedding party diverges off the main path and assemble where we know there is a look-out, while we turn left toward the top of the mountain. It takes us a mere ten minutes of additional climbing time to access the bare shield of the mountain top. A handful of other climbers are already there, sitting in choice spots, eating lunch, enjoying the spectacular views of Big Squam Lake below.
We begin to take pictures, and then all of a sudden the space becomes crowded as the wedding party has finally arrived, all of them, adults and children, milling about, cooing in appreciation at the landscape below. End of picture-taking. Angelyne decides she'd prefer to have her lunch back in the car. Button and Riley have some water, a few dog treats, and we begin our descent.
Meeting and greeting people coming and going.
Labels: Family, Peregrinations
posted by Pieface @ 7:11 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home