And fatherhood enters the teen years… This is where you go from being a hero and being best buddies to taking somewhat of a back seat in the boy’s life so he can start to find his own way. I struggled mightily with this!! I am clinging to the childhood years where we spent lots of time together camping, fishing, and laughing. It’s so hard to let go and let him walk his own path, especially when you know mistakes are being made, and can be avoided and redirected if he would just take your word for it. But alas they must find out for themselves. You just keep saying what you hope to be the right thing and hope that some of it is sinking in, although it seems as though many of your words fall on deaf ears. I’m grateful for the times we have spent together and that I got to bring him up my son on camping, much in the way I was brought up, and hopefully building memories that will last his lifetime. Lots of laughs and talks around the campfire, lakes and oceans along with my brother and his family mostly, occasionally with my mom or dad and a few others in my family joining in, and Wilson-The best camping dog EVER (did I say that already?) I know in my heart it has all made a difference in Chad’s life in the big picture, although at times it seems hard to find any positive impact you have had. Still you must have faith in yourself and in your children that you have done right by them and they will find the answers on their own and know they can always come to you for guidance in times of struggle. Still this leaves a rather large hole in my own existence. Life changes and you have to find a way to change with it. I get it! I was a teen too once and sacrificed weekend visits with my dad to find my own way in life amongst my peers. Deep down I know the boy cherishes the times we share even as they become less frequent. In the meantime, my brother has also had his set of challenges to deal with bringing up his younger kids and found himself with less time to spend camping. As for myself, I missed it more and more. I continue to struggle with letting go, but as I say, there comes a point where you find a way to change with life’s changes.

Fast forward a few years: I have been able to drag the boy, now a young man, away from his world for at least one camping trip a year, so that’s good that we can still hang out sometimes. On a few occasions, we visit my sister and her family at her cabin on the lake in the Adirondacks, a place I have found to be a great escape from the stresses of everyday life, and somewhere you can just reconnect with nature and exhale…..aaaahhh.
It was on one of these trips to the cabin that I remembered something from my childhood that inspired me to see the world for first time all over again through different eyes and make these connections to the earth around me a priority.

On this trip, I traveled alone as Chad had work obligations, and my sister couldn’t meet me there until later in the week. So I had the place to myself. The silence was profound! It calmed my soul to the core… just me and the lake …with a duck here… a bird there… a chipmunk there… and the occasional boat paddling by with a wave of the hand from those occupying it. I could sit here for hours…for days…for weeks and not get sick of it.

Well eventually hunger called and I took a break from the view to fix some lunch inside. A huge wall map of the Adirondacks caught my eye, and then a series of trail guides and trail maps on the shelf. I started reading a bit about the surrounding area, and figured why not try a short hike? It had been many many years since I had set foot on any trail but I still had vaugue memories of those times. A quick text message to my sister led me in the right direction for a suggested route.

. As I started the climb up this small hill leading to a lookout tower, memories of earlier mountain hikes came flooding back. I even slipped once and told myself “CAREFUL”(see post on hiking as a youngster for reference) …When I got to the first outlook it hit me. Wow! I forgot how I used to love this! Why did I ever stop?

When my sister joins on the last day of this trip, along with Simba (the bst Lakehouse dog EVER) I share with her my revelation: That does it! It’s settled! I’m getting myself back in shape, and I’m gonna do this every chance I get, and I’m getting back to the mountains even if I have to do it solo. There’s nothing wrong with a little solitude and tranquility! In fact it’s just what the doctor is ordering at this point.

  So that’s exactly what I did. Every weekend, and soon almost every day, I tried to do some sort of small hike, even if it was just a local trail. Slowly I would try to extend the hikes more and more. A coworker of mine got me into mountain biking too and I took to it immediately. This was a completely different experience and a new way to enjoy the outdoors. The more I did these things, the better I felt. I discovered more and more of these local trails and I found that surprisingly these little gems were pretty frik’n gorgeous too. You don’t have to drive 3 hours to find beauty after all! But still, I knew that’s where I ultimately wanted to be, back in the White Mountains hiking in the clouds once again. I had been researching different hikes and decided I definitely want to start with the Franconia Ridge Loop. I hear it is among the best views in the whites by far! So why not start out strong?

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So I gradually amped up the inclines and eventually built up to

where I thought I could try at least Monadnock to start. First time up felt great! I just went on a whim without any planning.
It was around 10am when I decided to make the 2 hour drive, but I remembered it was a short climb so I wasn’t too worried about hiking in the dark.
I made it up the White Dot trail in 1.5 hours and was greeted by some spectacular 360° views and then felt like I had returned home from a long journey!  I went again on father’s day, this time with a much earlier start, as I had started that from camping at Greenfield State Park. Once again, Chad was not able to join me, but I have come to accept this by now, and am at peace with it. I will keep putting the offer on the table for him, or anyone else for that matter, to join me, but I can’t deprive myself of these experiences just because of scheduling time with others to share with. I am perfectly ok going it alone, but always glad to share the experience as well. Flexibility is pretty huge lately in all facets of life… Actually at the last minute my Mom is able to join me for the campsite part but is not in hiking condition so we will catch up at days end around the campfire. For now, upward and onward up Monadnock for me with the woods to keep me company.

Monadnock Video Link

This time I make it up White Cross then down the longer less traveled Pumpelly to Cascade Link with great photo ops along the way on a picture perfect day! Joined back up with White Dot and back down to HQ inside of 4 hours, but still feel like I can do more, so I head up Parker Trail and Cliff Walk to Bald Rock. I’m feeling pretty good about myself at this point. This is the final tune-up before my return to the Whites. I head back down Lost Farm Trail and make my way back to camp. A successful 6 hour climb! My legs feel like spaghetti but I am ready!!
Fast forward a few months… It is August 16^th 2014 and it is finally happening! Me and Chad are on our way to the White Mountains where we will meet up with my brother Sean and his son Dylan and spend the weekend camping at Lafayette Place campground in Franconia Notch!

   

That’s right I was able to round up the troops just like old times! Well, minus one key player: Wilson our favorite camping buddy and Sean’s best friend had passed away back in February and we will miss him dearly. Still I am pumped to share this experience with 3 of the Coste Camping Crew! It’s a bit of a drizzly forecast but Sunday looks to be perfect weather. Our plan is to check out all the major sights in the area together over the weekend (Flume Gorge, Bose Rock, Old Man site, Echo Lake, The Rec Trail/Bike Path, and just hang out at the campground along the Pemi) then on Sunday, me and Chad will hit the trails to the ridge loop! Chad has not been on a climb since he was real little, but I am not worried. He has been hitting the gym hard and is in fantastic shape! I feel safer having him with me, especially my first time up, and I am so excited to share this experience with him!

I would soon find that the mountains have a way of changing your plans and teaching you something in the process: In this case, even before you set foot on the trail.

It is Saturday late afternoon and has been great weekend as planned although a bit wet, but we have camped in much wetter. It is so great to be back in the mountains- I love it here!  Chad is as psyched as I am to do this hike tomorrow. We are getting ready to start a fire and fix dinner. I suggest a quick ride down the bike path to Chad before we settle in. I had my bike and he had a skateboard. The path is real slick from the rain that had fallen and we are heading over a wooden bridge when WHAM- I turn around to find that Chad’s board had slipped out beneath him and went flying down to the river below sending Chad to the deck. I help him to his feet, and grab his board, then find out he is pretty hurt and had twisted his ankle pretty good. We limp back to the site to ice it down get some Ibuprofen and rest it up. As the night goes on his foot doesn’t get any better so we come to the conclusion that we may very well have to save the trek for another day. We would see how it feels in the morning but agree that it isn’t wise to push an injury and make it worse. Sure enough, the next morning he is having trouble even standing, so as disappointing as this is, we postpone the hike. Chad is visibly upset, but I assure him that this could be a blessing in disguise. We will return on peak foliage weekend, which will make for an even more amazing hike. As corny as it sounds there really is always a silver lining behind every black cloud. We end the weekend with a consolation prize: a tram ride up to the summit of Cannon Mountain. At least we got a mountaintop view. This would not be the last time the mountains would change my plans… still I am so thankful to spend this great weekend with my son, brother and nephew in this amazing landscape. See you in October.

Crotchet Mtn, Mt Monadnock, Bondcliff /Mt Bond/W.Bond (1-3), Zeacliff/Mt Zealand (4),  Mt Hale(5), Mt Moosilauke (partial), and more…

First an apology for the limited quantity and grainy quality of these pictures in this first post. You gotta work with what you got sometimes. Maybe my family can send me some more early day pics to add to the collection. Now, a little bit of background… I guess this affinity for climbing started with the Bonds in high school, but really it started much earlier. Before I ever knew what the list was or had any idea of how many mountains existed, I grew up in a family that loved to explore the outdoors through camping, hiking and exploring some beautiful places in Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Maine, Vermont, New York, and even a trip to Prince Edward Island in Canada. As for the climbing part, I remember taking day trips as a family (Mom, Dad, 3 sisters, 2 brothers & myself) up Crotchet Mountain where we picked blueberries for homemade jam, up Loon Mountain where we explored the caves, up to the 360° views of the rocky peak of Mount Monadnock and a few others. Usually mom had the youngest of us on her back I might add! Before I go too much further in to my ramblings, I want to thank my parents for exposing us to nature and instilling this desire to come out and connect with it. It is something that has continued to saturate my existence and give me the most joy in life to this day.

So getting back to what has led me to this journey, later in my high school years and early 20’s, along with much of my family, I took to cross country and downhill skiing and continued with camping and hiking as well. My sister Therese was a student at Tufts University and got immersed in Tufts Mountain Club and the White Mountains. She shared her love for the Whites with me, my Mom, and my brothers Paul and Sean, and we went on several trips to the TMC lodge where we did some cross country and downhill skiing, went on some day climbs and a few overnight backpacking trips.
My memory of these hikes has faded and the details are somewhat foggy at this point in my life. But I will try to recall some of them. Hopefully my family will chime in here to fill in the gaps. Some of these details could very well be inaccurate, and for that reason along with the pure desire to relive the experience, I will most likely repeat all of these peaks to get a more current recollection of them. One thing that did not fade from memory is the feeling I get when reaching a summit- the feeling that you are on top of the world, and that you can reach out and touch Heaven.

The most detailed picture I have of any of these is our first overnight backpack trip in the Whites to Bondcliff, Mount Bond, and West Bond. Therese, Paul and I set out early one fall morning carrying on our backs all the items we would need for a fabulous weekend in the mountains. Things were not as high tech back then. There were no GPS devices, moisture wicking breathable clothing (I think we even wore cotton) and no “ultra-light” gear technology that we have today. With our clunky loads we started from the Lincoln Visitors center off the Kancumagus and traveled along the Pemigewasset River through a canopy of bright yellow leaves over the long flat Wilderness trail. Back then, you could be assured safe drinking water by simply replenishing your supply in clear running mountain rivers and streams and there were many opportunities to fill our bottles. After several hours of moderate grades we began the steeper ascent up the Bondcliff Trail. This took us through the remainder of the day. We took in the scenery and breathed the crisp clean air and talked about our lives in school, our jobs, and stories of growing up in a family that can best be described as unique, quirky, and caring …all the while climbing higher and higher over rocks roots and fallen leaves.

Suddenly, we didn’t have much more time before dark and we were just below our first summit. We stalked out a spot to make camp and pushed on to Bondcliff for a brief but breathtaking sunset view. We headed back below tree line for some dinner and some much needed sleep. The next morning we woke to a hefty chill and after a quick cereal breakfast, gathered our gear and loaded it on our backs to head back up to Bondcliff and beyond. We were greeted with an amazing view of the Pemigewasset Wilderness where the clouds had blanketed the valleys below.  The only thing I can say is that we were transported to a land in the heavens! Above us only blue sky, Below us only white clouds, and as far as the eye could see, mountain after mountain after mountain covered in the vibrant yellows and oranges of autumn mixed with patches of evergreen forests and brown and gray slabs of boulders, cliffs and ledges, all merging out from the undercast of clouds. We continued along the ridge up to the Mount Bond summit and then over to West Bond where we had some lunch and another view with a look back at the cliff line we had just traveled. This part isn’t completely clear but I remember some conversation about whether to head back the way we came or continue on to another peak (not sure which one we were contemplating). At this point our fatigue was a factor and the miles had finally started to show their wear on our young muscles and joints. So we decided to head back down the way we came. With each step down to the wilderness trail our feet would pound the rocks sending an earthquake shock through our legs up our body and into our heads. Occasionally with our clumsy legs and feet, becoming ever more lifeless, someone would miss a targeted step and slip then catch their self. “Careful” someone would say as they would slip the same way. “Careful” someone else would say….slip, “careful”…slip, “careful”….on an on all the way down the mountain. We finally reached the end of the trail without injury and were able to travel on 4 wheels and an engine and rest our weary legs. The human bonds we created amongst the Bonds we traveled that weekend would last a lifetime!

Our second overnight trip was to Zeacliff and Zealand Mountain. I believe Thoreau Falls was part of this trip too.

I don’t remember much about the hike at this point, but my brother Paul recently recollects “Remember Zeacliff? We ended up scaling the mountain with almost no room, as the other side of the trail was straight down!”…We didn’t stay at the Zealand Falls hut and instead set up our tent on one of the tent platforms. When we woke, the entire platform including our tent was encased in a sheet of ice! I remember we couldn’t get moving too soon. This hike is worth a redo so I can describe in more detail. I don’t remember if it was this trip or not, but one of them ended with the realization that we had locked the keys in the car (or had lost the keys or something like that). I think we had to walk to the nearest store payphone, get picked up by one of Therese’s friends at the lodge, then call AAA (this was before cell phones existed).

When my youngest brother Sean was able to join in the fun of hiking, we all set out one morning from the TMC Lodge for a day hike up to Mount Hale. We were joined by a few of my sister’s TMC friends. On the way up, the “Careful” theme continued but was not carried out. Sean slipped and bashed his head on a sharp rock. I was directly behind him when this happened, and raced to the scene, threw his head back, pulled a bandanna from my pocket and pressurized the wound (I had heard somewhere to do this). Others followed and proceeded to give the bleeding gash a more proper dressing. We ended up splitting the team up with Therese, Sean and one other heading down the mountain to get Sean to a hospital. The rest of us continued up to the summit. Later we learned that Sean received several stitches. I guess I saved the day that time, but Sean would return the favor years later saving me from drowning in a pond. That’s how brothers roll! Who’s turn is it to save who’s life?

There were a few other day hikes as well but I’m not sure what they included. i seem to remember at least discussing Garfield but I have no recollection of climbing it, so that one remains on the to-do list. I may even finish the NH48 with it! I do remember we set out one winter morning after a fresh snowfall without snowshoes to climb Moosilauke. What were we thinking?? I think we were expecting packed trails for some reason but got something completely different. Well it started out pretty well packed with hikers before us doing the trail breaking.
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As we made our way up the mountain, the snow got deeper and deeper, and slowly but surely, the broken trails became less and less populated with footprints. People were obviously wisely turning back with the unfavorable conditions.  We continued on for a while sinking up to our thighs with every labored step. I know now that this is called “postholing” and is frowned upon with good reason. Eventually we accessed the situation and admitted defeat, turning back to home base…Again, this one is still on the to-do list (as I write this in 2014). It would be cool if on these repeat/redo hikes I could duplicate the group members and conditions for either redemption or revival…

Fast forward a few years…

As sometimes happens, at some point life brought on changes with marriage, buying a house, and making it home, the arrival of my son Chad (and all of the blessings, challenges and excitement that go with parenthood), along with going back to school, career changes, new jobs,  etc etc etc.  Before I knew it, I temporarily lost touch with my love for mountain hiking. Not too sure exactly where my footsteps strayed from the trail, but i may have let the fact that my wife Kelley doesn’t share my interest in hiking or camping contribute to my drifting. Plus I really was into trying to make some sort of a music carreer, which slowly morphed over the years into just playing music for fun…

   

Whatever the case,  I have fortunately been able to share the camping tradition with my son Chad along with Sean and his family and occasionally other family members.  And of course the best camping dog ever. (Miss you Wilson)

We tried hiking Monadnock once when Chad was really young. Turns out he wasn’t quite ready for the climb and Sean and I ended up taking turns carrying him up on our backs. That experience probably took some part in discouraging me from subsequent mountain hikes. We should have tried harder to keep it part of our lives, but we didn’t. Excuses, excuses… Thankfully I have since reconnected to the mountains in a big way!

But that’s getting a head of ourselves. Time to fill in the rest of the story leading up to that. To be continued…