The Story of the Christmas Bush....

The Story of the Christmas Bush

Once upon a time, a long time ago, I saw a Norman Rockwell painting about Christmas. It just seemed so perfect. A nice happy family, celebrating Christmas in the most perfect of settings.

This was something that I longed for. We lived in a 5 family tenement house in a working class old mill town in Massachusetts. Christmas never seemed quite like Mr. Rockwell portrayed it in my home town.

Now don't get me wrong. My mother NEVER let my sister and I feel like we were poor. She would always have a couple Christmas Club saving accounts going, and with great use of layaway, spoil us rotten.We never really wanted for anything. That's not what I am talking about. It just didn't seem Norman Rockwell like, and I always wanted to feel that way. We never even had a real Christmas Tree!!! My mother had discovered that artificial trees don't make a mess, and that was that. No chance for a real tree!

I just wanted that fantasy that Norman Rockwell painted. Fantasy to me that is. I am sure that there are many people out there who have had that experience. I wanted it too!!

When I was 21-22 years old, my girlfriend got her first apartment. Behind this 2 family house were some undeveloped woods. There were lots of pine trees all throughout this area. On her first Christmas in the apartment, I decided to take matters into my own hands.

I grabbed an axe, and my trusty dog, and headed out into the woods in the backyard. The light from the shortened winter day was slowly leaving the sky. I didn't think this was a problem since I didn't expect to be out there for too long. After all, there were many, many pine trees to choose from.

As I headed out all bundled up against the cold, a light snow began to fall, muting all sounds throughout the forest. It was perfect! My Normal Rockwell Christmas was starting off right!!!

I don't how many of you have decided to cut your own trees before, but let me tell you that going into the woods, rather then to a Tree Farm, is an entirely different thing. In Tree Farms, the trees are all manicured throughout the year to allow them to grow into beautiful Christmas master pieces. The trees in the forest are left to themselves. This didn't matter to me because in Norman Rockwell's world, no one bought their trees. They did exactly what I was doing!

The first thing I noticed when I approached the woods was that the trees all seemed incredibly tall. None of them seemed liked those perfect trees that people cut in the Rockwell paintings. I was disappointed.

While I decided to keep looking for that "perfect" tree, the light was slowly fading from the sky. After an hour or so, I gave up looking for the perfect tree and divided to cut one of the larger ones with a good top. My Norman Rockwell moment was slipping through my fingers.

It was my plan to trim it to size and use that as my tree. I eventually found a tree I liked and started to chop away. Wood chips were flying everywhere, while worked furiously to cut this behemoth down before the light totally faded from the sky. Eventually, with a loud crash, I felled the tree, and then cut it a length I would be able to drag back to the house. It was very, very dark when I finally got back to the house.

Once in the yard, I set to trimming it to a desirable size. Every time I cut, I would notice a flaw and be forced to cut some more. This went on for some time until I noticed the original 40+ foot tree was now a 3 foot bush. I was terribly depressed. My Norman Rockwell ideal was not going to happen after all. I didn't even bring the "tree" upstairs I was so disappointed. I wanted to go buy a good tree at one of those road side stands!

My girlfriend had other ideas and went down and brought the tree up to the apartment. She said it was a beautiful tree and she wanted to keep it.  I told her it was a Christmas Bush and it should be thrown back into the forest. I was still disappointed, so while she decorated the Christmas Bush, I enjoyed a couple of cocktails to lighten my mood. Once she was done, it really didn't look that bad! In fact, I decided to lay under the branches and proclaim that I was her Christmas Present.While I was originally very disappointed, this is one of my favorite Christmas memories now. And while I don't go into the forest to cut my own, I do still go to a Tree Farm for a real tree. My kids have never had an artificial tree and always look forward to when we go to the farm.

As I have grown older, I have come to realize that Norman Rockwell did not paint reality, he painted an ideal. The perfect Christmas is not what we see in a painting, it's what we make of it. Seeing my son or daughter dragging our tree to the car is the perfect Christmas ideal for me. I am happy and proud to know that I have a created a tradition that I am sure they will continue with their own families when they grow up.

 However you celebrate, make it your own. Merry Christmas everyone!!!! Thank you for reading!

First tracks...

FIRST TRACKS...

For those of you who don't ski, you get first tracks when you are the first to Ski (or Snowboard) on a trail, thereby leaving first tracks in the snow. You don't get a medal or any any recognition for your accomplishment. It's more of a personal feeling of "I was here first!!!!". For some people, such as myself, that in itself is the reward.

While I love first tracks, and often get to claim them, the simple act of skiing is what really fills me with joy. My ski fever flares up the instant I see the first snow flake of the season. When the weatherman predicts a snow storm, I get as excited with anticipation as I did waiting for Santa as a child!! With that first flake I am off to the shop to have my skis tuned and waxed so they are always ready within a moment's notice.

I grew up in the flat lands of southeastern Massachusetts. I did not grow up in the mountains, and only started skiing (usually once a year) at age 12 with the local church group. My first lesson, if you will, was with one of the older kids taking a group of us younger kids to the top of Okemo Mountain, giving us some rudimentary instructions, and letting us go on our own down the Mountain Road trail. Granted it was a novice trail, but without really understanding going from side to side, I pointed my ski tips down and started to go.

The sensation of speed (although much slower than I ski now) overwhelmed and gave me such an intense sensation of adrenaline that I was instantly hooked!! To this day, the sensation of speed urges me on!! So much so that I even topped out last year, for a very brief moment, at 73 mph. A Personal Best Record for me! I have no conscious thought of trying to break this speed. In fact when it happened, I was merely trying to break 60 mph, having been stuck at 58 mph for the longest time.

Living so far away from the mountains as a child, I never had the opportunity to race on skis, other than with my friends.  When a friend  and I came across an unused race course last season, I couldn't resist running the gates. I had so much fun. I even pretended I was in the Olympics! If you have never run gates while skiing, I suggest you try it when you can. It is a lot of fun and a lot harder than it looks!

I now consider myself an expert skier. It took many, many years to get here. I have crashed more times than I can count, and have on occasions suffered some injuries while skiing. In my opinion, if you haven't fallen at least once while skiing, you just aren't pushing yourself enough.

At 49 years of age, I have decided that this is the year I learn Freestyle skiing. I want to learn to do a 360 off a jump, and land safely of course. I anticipate many bruises and many trips into my hot tub, but I WILL learn to do this. If nothing else, it will make for some entertaining video clips.

One of my favorite things about skiing is the having fun with my friends. While I will ski solo (with my IPod on), I much prefer skiing with friends. It so much more enjoyable to race each other down the hill, or discuss the merits of trying to ski off a cliff or through steep trees. Having a close friend, some decent sunny weather, flash back to the 80s Day and the last day of the season all at the same time is as close as I can imagine getting to heaven.

See you on the slopes and thanks for reading!! Cheers!!

Gone but NEVER forgotten...

Dear Mom,

A lot has happened in the year since you have passed. (I still can't write that without crying...) First and foremost, I feel like a ship that has lost its rudder. I frequently long to call you, only to reminded that you are gone. Jill is having difficulty coming to terms with your passing. I don't know how to help her and it kills me to see my sister still in so much pain.

If your death weren't bad enough, Dad passed three weeks after you from a heart attack. Boy did that send us for a loop. I know that you and he have been divorced for over 30 years, but I think that when you lost your battle with pancreatic cancer, it really affected him.

I remember the last time I saw you. We were are Disney last year. When we hugged and kissed good-bye, I knew in my heart that it was the last time I would see you. We all cried for awhile after you left, and the magic of Disney seemed a muted grey to me. Although I was so happy to be able to give you that time in a place that you loved so much, I was not able to go back there this year. It was the first time in 17 years we did not go Disney. I knew it would be too painful to not being there with you. We have since scheduled a trip for next May, and I am all ready a little anxious about going back, but I know that you will be with me.

As bad as it was saying good-bye, it was nothing compared to the day you died just a short time later. Jill called me to say that I needed to call you because you were going down hill fast. You were not able to speak to me but I was assured by Jim that you could hear me. I tried to be brave, but I couldn't help but cry the entire time I talked to you. I am glad that I got to tell you I loved you one more time, but I hope my sadness didn't cause you anymore distress or pain. Even writing this brings back those memories and I still can't help crying. You died that day after I talked to you. Jill and Jim were with you when you passed.

You were certainly an inspiration to me and everyone with how you faced your cancer. You never once complained and didn't let it define you. You were the definition of grace and bravery. If I handled something like that 1/2  as well as you, I would count myself lucky. You were always my hero and these last couple of years were no exception.

Kyleigh frequently says to me how much she misses you. You were her special grandmother...she still talks about how you and she ran down the halls of the Animal Kingdom Lodge at Disney, pretending to be gazelles. I can't help but smile at that memory.

There is so much more I want to say, but I can't find the words through my tears. You may be gone, but you will never leave our hearts. I love you mom, and always will.

12/3/44 - 11/11/12 - Never forgotten, always loved...

I'm Batman...

A long time ago in my mid 20s, I owned my first house. It was a small ranch, not much bigger than some apartments. You may remember this house from the blog article I posted previously about the driveway fire.

Anyway, one day I decided to do my laundry, and proceeded to head to the basement where my washer and dryer were kept. As I opened the basement door, a bat flew out at my face. I am not sure if I actually screamed in fright or not, but I do remember falling to the floor to avoid the bat.

As I sat there, panting in fright, I tried to think of who I could call to come remove this bat. It was the first time I had ever lived alone, and I was unsure of what to do. As I began to calm down, I realized that no one was going to come and get rid of the bat for me. I could imagine the laughter on the other end of the phone if I called the Fire or Police Departments. It was going to be up to me. Time to man up!

The first thought that came to me was to get my tennis racket and just smash the thing as it flew by.

However, I am not one to needlessly kill anything, and I figured the bat didn't want to be there anymore than I wanted it there. So, another option had to be found...and quick. I was getting very creeped out with a bat flying around my living room.

My next thought was to catch it in a net, but since I didn't own a butterfly or fishing net, this wouldn't be an option. Then, like a light bulb flashing on above my head, I got an idea. I would get the small blanket from the back of the couch and use that to capture the bat by throwing it on him. 

Now that I had a plan, I began to feel better ( & a bit braver). I slowly made my way to the couch, ever vigilant for a sneak attack from my flying nemesis. Once I had the blanket, I began to scan for my foe. There! On the curtain rod above the picture window, hanging upside down, was the bat.

I slowly and deliberately walked toward the bat, my heat racing more and more with each step. Just as I made it to the middle of the room, the bat sprung it's attack. Okay, it didn't really look to attack me. I think it just wanted to get away from the crazy guy with the blanket!

As it zoomed in towards me, I threw the blanket....over my own head so the bat wouldn't land on me. The bat flew around the living room, then the kitchen, then down the hall, then around the living room again for quite awhile until, near exhaustion, it landed on the the same curtain rod it was on originally. I could see it's chest heaving up and down trying to draw oxygen in, all the while, watching me with it's beady little eyes.

This chasing around the living room, and me throwing the blanket on my head as it flew by went on for about an hour. By now, it was getting late and I was getting tired of this. I can only imagine how the bat felt. I was nearly at the point where I was willing to smash it with the tennis racket after all, just to be done with it. It was time to try a different tactic.

Having made the decision not kill the poor little bat, disgusting as it may be, I formed a new plan. I went into the basement (hoping that there were no bats remaining down there ~ there weren't), and got my very thick work gloves and a hard hat. I'm not sure why I thought I needed a hard hat, but it was there, so I wore it! Properly attired, I went up the basement steps and slowly opened the door. I peaked cautiously out, and did not see the bat. I slowly looked  around the corner into the living room and saw the bat still on the curtain rod.

In my best impression of an Infrantryman low crawling across a battlefield, I slithered my way across the living room floor. So far so good. The bat didn't move. With my back pressed against the wall next to the picture window, I very slowly inched my way up, always with an eye toward the bat. Finally, standing fully up and pressed as close to the wall as possible, I started to move my glove covered hand toward the bat. I started worry. Was the glove thick enough? Would the bat bite through it? Was it full of rabies? What the hell was I thinking? There was no turning back. I was committed. It was the bat or me!

When I judge myself close enough, I took a slow deep breath, feeling my heart trying to rip itself from my chest. Then, with speed that would make a cobra jealous, I shot out my hand and grabbed the bat! It began thrashing and shrieking like a banshee. All the hair on my arms stood up as I looked at the menacing face trying to bite me.

The bat tried over and over to bite my hand, but thankfully, the gloves were sufficient and withstood his assault. I was totally freaked out and didn't know exactly what to do next. I guess I didn't really believe that I could catch it in my hands. I ran to the front door and yanked it open, then tried to open the screen door. Damn, it was locked!! While the bat was squirming in my right hand, I fumbled with my useless left hand (I'm right handed) and eventually opened the door. Like a Marine tossing a hand granade, I threw that bat as fast and as far as possible. It seemed disoriented at first but quickly righted itself and flew away!

Feeling rather proud of myself, I put my hands on my hips and loudly proclaimed to the neighborhood, "I'm Batman".

Thanks for reading!!

Not all who wander are lost...

Last weekend, my friend Richard and I took a group of friends up Mount Potash (Doreen, Jody, Terri, Mark & Kay).

We like to call these outings "The Epic Adventures of Batman & DumbAzz!!" ( You may remember my blog about our White Water Raft trip this Summer)

I guess I should explain. Hikers pick up Trail Names through their actions, their words, or personality quirks. They are usually bestowed by someone else. I got the name "Batman" because I once said "I'm Batman" in a conversation and the name stuck. Richard got the name "DumbAzz" because he is a dumb ass (not really) for following me on all my crazy adventures.

Anyway, we picked Potash because it is a short easy hike, with spectacular views. I didn't realize how fortuitous this would turn out to be.  When I met the group, I saw that someone brought a 4 year old girl with them!!

Now, I knew Potash was a doable hike for the adults, but I had serious reservations about the young lady. This was going to be a 4+ mile hike, with a short steep section near the top. I was not convinced that her little legs would be able to make it.

However, her grandparents assured us that she could do it. They were right. She did fantastic, never complained or asked to be carried, and had a smile on her face the entire time! In short, she was delightful to have with us.

As I said, the Mount Potash Trail is very easy in the beginning, just  a gentle walk in the woods. There is one stream crossing that is not too difficult in low water, and the trail doesn't climb too steeply until you are near the top.

We did have a minor medical emergency. One of the hikers, Jody was on blood thinner and scraped his arm, which bled profusely. Not too worry, because Terri had a first aid kit that was just shy of a full Emergency Room. Terri assited me as I practiced a little Field First Aid, bandaging up Jody's arm.

There were quite a few other hikers on the trail, and the summit was a bit crowded when we got there. However, just to the left of the actual summit, there was a clearing with just as good of a view.

We chose to park ourselves there for some snacks, lunch and drinks. Richard even brought a stove and offered everyone Hot Mulled Apple Cider. I stuck to my traditional Hot Green Tea. After about 40 minutes, we packed up and headed back down, and reached the cars rather quickly.

Once we packed everything up, we headed to The Woodstock Station in Woodstock, New Hampshire for the obligatory post hike beer and food. If you haven't been to this restaurant, you should seek it out. All in all, we had a great day.

Here is a video of the hike. Thanks for reading and happy trails to you all! Onward! Batman & DumbAzz Gratitude Hike

Fly the friendly skys...A day in the life of a business traveler...

The meeting had just ended and I said my goodbyes. It was a beautiful, sunny day as I dashed to my rental car (a Ford Mustang this time...free upgrade). I am flying out of Reagan National in Washington, D.C. on US Airways in a couple of hours.

With the throaty roar of the 8 cylinder engine, I headed onto the Baltimore-Wshington Parkway. Traffic was moving well and I seemed to be making good time. That soon changed. After numerous detours around Washington from all the road repair, I finally made it the airport and Avis rental return, gave back the car and caught a shuttle bus to Terminal C.

I checked in for my flight two hours early and headed up to the US Air Club for some quiet time away from the masses in the terminal. Everything looked good for my flight. I saw no delay or cancellation on the board, or on the App on my IPhone for my flight. I settled into one of the big comfy leather chairs in the Club with a coffee and my book.

Suddenly my phone rang. It's my wife, telling me that US Air called to say that my flight had been delayed. It still wasn't showing on my App or on the Arrival/Departure Board in the US Airways Club. Considering the weather was perfect, I had a hard time believing it. Thankfully, I had a two hour layover in Philadelphia, so the delay wouldn't interfere with my getting home (hopefully). Eventually, the time came for my delayed departure, and I headed to the gate.

While waiting to board, my phone rang again. It was my wife, calling to say that US Air called (again) to say that my connection was also delayed an hour. "Okay, so this won't be too bad. At least I will not have any problem making my connection.", I thought to myself.

We all boarded the airplane and found our seats, while some passengers struggled with fitting all the carry-on luggage in the overhead compartments. The Flight Attendants actually had the audacity to practically yell at the passengers to hurray up so they could get out of there. Um, hello, US Air, the delay was YOUR fault.

As I sat there, I played the "Open Seat" game. Oh, you know that game!! It's where you scan the crowd walking the aisle hoping to get a good seat mate. You pray it's not the mother with the toddler (kid looks sick and cranky), or the guy with scabs all over his face (gross). Wait!! Is it going to be that good looking business woman? Damn, not her...this went on for a little while, until a thin older man took the window seat. We were lucky enough to have no one in the middle seat.

Eventually, all the luggage got stowed and everyone took their seats and buckled in. I settled back and took out the book I bought in the terminal, expecting to be in Philly within 40 minutes. The jet was pushed away from the Gate and it taxied onto the tarmac, where it stopped. The intercom crackled to life, "Ah....greetings from the front of the bus...this is your Captain speaking. We....ah...just got contacted by the Ops Center (US Air Ops center), and...uh...there seems to be a bit of traffic up in Philly. They're gonna hold us here a bit....um... it looks like we'll get released in 45 minutes. just sit tight folks!" Great, now my delay was delayed! Oh how I love business travel! We soon got released to move out to the taxi way, and were promptly informed we were 14th in line line for take off. Eventually we made it to Philadelphia.

If there is anything I dislike more than US Air it is US Air in Philadelphia. In my opinion, it is one of the worst airports to fly in and out of. If there is even a hint of bad weather, the delays start mounting there quickly. Although the weather was perfect, this day was no different than if it were snowing. When we deplaned, I could see pandemonium at multiple gates. Apparently there were a lot of other delays as well. Typical scene at Philly!!

After an uncomfortable wait in the terminal, we boarded the flight to Manchester, and arrived without any drama. As the passengers, were leaving the plane, a Flight Attendant, was giving a thanks for flying US Air speech and actually said "At US Air we put the U in US!"After all the delays, I wanted to hit her in the face with a pie!

I followed the passengers to baggage and stood milling about, staking out the perfect spot to wait for my luggage. Soon an alarm sounded and the luggage started coming out. This is a point of anxiety for many passengers..."Will my luggage make it?" Around and around the luggage carousel went. Passengers grabbed their luggage as it went by, and I stood there waiting...all of a sudden the carousel stopped. NO LUGGAGE! Damn...just perfect! I immediately headed to the luggage claims area, and there was my luggage waiting for me. It took an earlier flight!!! Now why in the hell couldn't I be on that one too?

Enjoy this funny video. Thanks for reading!!

Why You Can't Use Cell Phones On Planes

So many roads...

At 6:00 AM last Sunday the alarm intruded into my subconscious, while the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted upstairs. I tossed off the warm embrace of sleep and quickly got dressed, trying not to wake the family. It was a hike day, and I was heading to Cube Mountain in Orford, NH for another solo hike. This would be #29 on the 52 With A View list I was currently chasing.

The day was shrouded in fog as I made my way up I93. The Weather Man forecasted partly cloudy to start, with bright sunshine late morning. No mention of fog was made!The Weather Man, as usual, was wrong!

Although I like the way photos look with the fog through the trees, I hoped this would burn off quickly so I could experience some of the wonderful views this mountain had to offer.

Cube Mountain has two peaks, North & South, both of which offered spectacular views in different directions. However, only South Peak actually counts on the 52 With A View list. That didn't really matter to me. I planned to summit both peaks.


This was my first hike since last week's Following Atticus Gratitude Hike.
That was the first time (and maybe last) that I have hiked with such a large group of hikers. Don't get me wrong, it was a great hike, and everyone who participated were truly wonderful people. I am glad I got to meet them all, and many have become Facebook Friends. It's just that I go to the mountains for peace and serenity, mostly hiking solo, or with one or two trusted friends. A large group does not lend itself to the way and reasons I hike. I know that Tom & Atticus understand this!!

I got on the trail about 8:30 AM. This was a bit late for me, as I usually like to start much earlier. However, this wasn't a very long hike (a little under 7 miles RT) and not one that is particularly popular with the Tourist Hiker crowd.

I parked my car, changed into my hiking boots, put my wallet and phone into plastic sandwich bags to protect them from moisture, and put my pack on and adjusted the straps. After one final check to make sure I had everything I needed, I set off.

The Mount Cube trail is one of the nicest and easiest trails to hike. It never gets steep, and is easy to follow. This will make a great snow shoe hike in the Winter. This was a very pleasant walk in the woods. Getting to the trail head early means that I have a good chance of solitude on the trail and the summits. That's just what I got. There was not a soul around, although I did see one car that was parked, but looked as if it had been there overnight.

It was perfect hiking temperature, and I was feeling good as I headed down the trail. As usually happens on solo hikes, I soon became lost in my thoughts as I walked along the trail. Suddenly, three gunshots ripped the silence of the forest away.

With the gunshot echos bouncing off the hills, I quickened my pace. I wanted to get as far away as possible. I have no problem with hunting but I really wish that it was banned within in 1 mile of trails. Bullets don't always go where intended! I will admit, I was nervous for quite awhile. I almost wished that Russ was with me with his Bear Bell. Going forward, I made as much noise as I could and was glad I remembered to wear bright orange!!

After awhile, I calmed down enough to relax and enjoy the hike, and again got lost in my thoughts. For any of you who also hike solo, you will know what I mean about lost in my thoughts. With no one else to talk to, my mind has full blown conversations with itself! I am never really on a solo hike because I bring all the voices in my head!

Eventually, I came to a trail junction.  I felt like Dorothy when she met up with the Scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz. South Peak is the one that counts for the 52 With A View list I was working on, but both peaks have spectacular views.

As I was pondering my decision, I could hear loud voices and laughter on South Peak. That settled it...North Peak was going to be my first choice. I wouldn't realize until later how fortuitous that decision was.

Once I reached the summit of North Peak, the views opened up before me. I could see Mt Moosilauke in the distance trying to poke through the undercast.




Blueberry Mt was also viewable, resplendent in the colors of Fall. While on the summit, I took all the photos of the views I could take.

For 45 minutes, I had the summit to myself. I love my solitude on summits. It is one of the reasons that I like to get an early start.  I enjoyed some snacks and the hot green tea I brought, and was soothed by the silence and beauty around me.

All too quickly, a fog bank rolled over South Peak, quickly erasing any potential views. I hung out on North Peak for a bit longer, hoping the fog would burn off. Instead, it got thicker and the wind picked up, causing the temperature to drop.

Thankfully, this wasn't my first rodeo so to speak, and I came prepared. I changed out of the wet shirt I had on, and added layers until I chased the chill away. I even had to put on gloves and a hat for a little while.


Eventually, I came to realize that the views were not coming back and decided it was time to summit South Peak. I made my way back the way I had come, getting misdirected once or twice, finally coming to the trail junction.

I found the way to South Peak, and quickly found the Summit.

Much to my dismay, I came across a husband and wife near the Summit. After the normal pleasantries exchanged between hikers, I found out that they were section hiking the Appalachian Trail, and this hike would complete New Hampshire for them. They were nice enough to offer to take my summit photo. I reciprocated and took theirs as well! I did not stay on South Peak for long since there were no views. The walk down was quick and easy, an soon I found myself at my car. I highly recommend this mountain for anyone looking for a nice short hike, with great views.

Here is a video of my hike. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for reading and happy trails! Cheers!!

Things that go bump in the night...

Since Halloween is soon to be upon us, I wanted to relate a story that took place in the mid 1980s. The Friday The 13th movie franchise was in full swing. In case you had your head in the sand, or were not born back then, the franchise mainly focused on the fictional character Jason Voorhees, who drowned as a boy at Camp Crystal Lake due to the negligence of the camp staff. Decades later, the lake is rumored to be "cursed" and is the setting for a series of mass murders. Jason is featured in all of the films, as either the killer or the motivation for the killings.

Anyway, one Saturday night in late June 1981, several friends and I were hanging around a fire, drinking a few beers. We were bored because we couldn't think of thing to do. As usually happens in these situations, we covered a plethora of topics, including recent movies. Somehow, we stumbled up the subject of the Friday the 13th movie and the character of Jason.

One of my friends, Mark, mentioned that he used to work at Camp Cathedral on Long Pond, in Freetown, MA. He mentioned that every year, all the counselors would spend a week at the camp, before the kids arrived, as an orientation to the camp and their duties. He also mentioned that this was the weekend of that particular week at the Camp.

This led back to the movie Friday the 13th. We started talking about how spooky it must be to work in such surroundings since the movie came out. Mark then mentioned that he knew a back way into the camp, which required a mile walk through the woods. Light bulbs of inspiration instantly appeared over all 5 of our heads! Wouldn't it be fun to scare the counselors? Like clowns in a Clown Car, we immediately piled into Tom's subcompact Dodge Colt and headed down the highway. After about 20 minutes of driving we arrived at the back entrance mentioned by Mark.

We all piled out of the car, giggling like school girls at the audacity of our upcoming prank. With liquid courage from the beer, we set off on the path through the woods, aided by the brightly lit full moon. We stumbled and trip our way through the woods, laughing and making enough noise to wake the dead, yet some how managed to avoid discovery. We all quieted down, with the occasional snicker, as we neared the camp.

The night was deathly quiet, with a pall of fog blanketing the lake. Not a ripple disturb the calm surface. There, up ahead of us, was a cabin brightly lit from the inside. Like Ninjas, we slowly crept to an outside wall, near an open window. We could here laughter and music wafting through the open window. It sounded like there were 20 or so people in the room.

Barely able to control our laughter at what was about to happen, we slowly and quietly spread out beneath the open window. With hand signals and whispers, we made our plan. On the count on three, we would yell and scream like Banshees and bang on the side of the cabin wall.

Without saying a word, I mouthed the count. "One"...."Two"... oh man this is going to be good I thought to myself...."Three"!!!! At that moment, we all started to yell and bang on the side of the building. We immediately heard screams from inside. Tables and chairs were crashing to the floor as we heard the stomp of shoes running across the wood plank for looking for an exit!!!

Several of us were doubled over in laughter, while one of us nearly pissed himself from the absurdity of the situation!! The screams of terror continued as we made our escape. The sounds of chaos began to fade the deeper we went into the woods. All five of us were talking at the same time. None of us could stop laughing at the success of our mission. As far as we know, no one at the camp ever figured out what happened. They probably still talk about that night. I know my friends and I do!!!

Thanks for reading.

Following Atticus....

The annoying sound of my alarm yanked me from my blissful slumber at 4:00 AM. Dawn would not be breaking for another couple of hours. As I dragged myself from the warm embrace of my bed, I realized I was not feeling well. I had a head cold! Something I have not been afflicted with in over 2 1/2 years! Of course it would happen on the day I would be "Following Atticus" up a mountain.

It's at this point I need to back up a bit. In case you don't know who Atticus is (I'll be disappointed because I mentioned him in a previous post), his full name is Atticus M. Finch. He is an amazing little dog, who has achieved a measure of celebrity from appearing in a book written by his human friend, Tom Ryan. The book is called Following Atticus.

I highly recommend you read this wonderful story about friendship between a man and a dog. Prior to this hike, I had the distinct pleasure of meeting them both at a book signing in Concord, NH.

As a show of appreciation for all his fans, Tom decided that he and Atticus would lead a hike consisting of some lucky fans. From over 1400 requests, 24 of us were picked. It felt like we all won a Golden Ticket from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory!!!

So, even though I was feeling terrible, I decided that nothing short of the Plague was going to keep me from attending the hike. I had to meet this wonderful group of fellow Atticus Groupies that I had been getting to know on a Facebook page set up for this hike, and of course, I had to hike with Tom & Atticus.

I quickly fixed myself a coffee, made some green tea for later on the hike, took some snacks, took some cold medicine, grabbed my backpack and headed out the door. It was 4:45 AM, and dawn was still a ways off. It was time for my 2 1/2 hour ride to Jackson, New Hampshire to meet up with the group. Leaving early for a hike is not out of the norm for me. I like to get to the trail head early. It makes it more likely that you will have the trail to yourself, and if lucky, the summit as well.

As I passed Exit 28 on I93, and more importantly, the Dunkin Donuts right off the ramp, I knew that this was not going to be a normal hike. I was going way outside my routine and comfort zone on this hike. First, I am usually uncomfortable with groups when I don't know anyone, and second, I never hike with a group. I usually hike alone, or with only 1-2 close friends....and I always stop at the Dunkin Donuts at Exit 28!

Anyway, after miles and miles and miles in the car, I arrived at the Inn Jackson where we were all meeting.

People began slowly arriving and eventually, we all sat down for breakfast at the Inn. Everyone split up four to a table.This was a great opportunity to get to know each other a little more closely.

One of the hikers, Michael Boutin, presented Tom with a walking staff he made. The staff was incredible. It had been decorated with Atticus's likeness and the names of all the hikers. Truly a special gift, and one that I know Tom is going to enjoy for years to come. Michael also told a story about his father and the walking stick that left not a dry eye in the room. Very emotional. Anyway, we eventually finished breakfast and drove to the trail head.

At the trail head, the excitement was palatable. Everyone seemed to be talking all at once, and some sported nervous smiles. A few rechecked their packs, while others tightened the laces on their boots or trail shoes. Soon enough, we were all ready.

Appropriately, Atticus lead the way, and we all "Followed Atticus" for a little while. With 24 hikers, all with different levels of fitness and experience, the line got stretched out pretty quickly.

The plan was to hike to the summit of South Moat Mountain, 2.7 miles from the parking lot, and then traverse the ridge over to Middle Moat Mountain to have lunch. It was my plan, while the group rested on Middle Moat, to push on and bag North Moat solo, thereby claiming the two Moats on the 52 With A View list I am working on. I was then going to join them at Middle Moat for lunch. You know what they say about "The best laid plans of mice and men...". More on that later.

On and on we hiked, stopping frequently to let people catch up. As the trail got steeper, the group stretched out further, and the rest stops became longer. On the way up we were treated to some great views, which elicited more excitement from the group.

Onward we climbed, slowly inching our way to the first summit. At about 3/4 of the way to the top of South Moat, Tom came and told me to go on alone and get North Moat because if I waited for the group, I would never get there. He said the group would meet me on Middle Moat and we'd all have lunch and take the group photo there.

This was the second time Tom told me to go on my own. I felt funny leaving the group, but Tom said it was okay, so off I went. I went from .8 mph hiking speed to over 5 mph hiking speed, at one point topping out at 6.7! I was really pushing myself to my limit so I would not make the group wait for me.

Let me tell you, this was not a flat 5 extra miles. There were two other peaks and some up and down terrain in between...and I was feeling quite sick from the head cold I woke with.

By the time I was on my way back, I had a feeling that I would not see the group on Middle Moat. I was right. I could hear and see them on South Moat, so I started hustling even harder so I could meet up with them. I never got to eat my lunch, and began cramping up on the climb back up South Moat.

I reached South Moat Summit, just as they were heading down. I was totally exhausted, and probably should have rested a bit. I had done the additional 5 miles in a little over an hour. Although I should have rested, I continued on because I felt I had spent enough time away from the group! After seeing some of their photos, it was apparent that I missed some special moments. Peak bagging can be a lonely existence at times.

I am proud to say that everyone completed the hike to South Moat. For some in the group, it was their first time on a mountain top. You could clearly see the pride of joy in their tired faces. They came from far and wide, from Texas, North Carolina, California, Ohio and Maine to name a few States. We call came from such different backgrounds and histories, all united in our admiration of a little dog and his friend Tom Ryan. Somehow, through the experience, we all became a bit like some crazy eclectic family.

Many of these hikers have overcome tragedy and adversity, and this hike was a type of healing for them. Many others are in involved in animal rescue and/or fostering unwanted dogs. Me, I'm just a hiker, and feel blessed and humbled that they let me tag along with them.

There is a quote I like by Alfred Tennyson that says "I am a part of all that I have met." While this is surely true, I feel more importantly that these former strangers and now called friends, are a part of me! This is a memory I will hold dear for the rest of my life.

Here is a video I made for the hike. I hope you enjoy it. Onwards by all means. Happy Trails....