Heads up

It's better to seek forgiveness than ask for permission. So with your forgiveness I couldn't resist snapping this restroom shot taken at the Hopworks Urban Brewery in the SE Portland district.

The brewpub beers are excellent and food well above what is normally described as pub grub.

Men will require no explanation for the bike saddles strategically located above the urinals.

Let's just say men adopt many different styles when doing what comes naturally and those styles are often directly influenced by the amount and strength of alcohol consumed.

So when the time comes and head heaviness is impossible to deny, how much easier on the forehead is a soft saddle than the stone wall normally provided.

Keen observers will note that, rightly so, headrests are not provided for children using the lower of the two urinals.

Doubt, A Parable - a great play

Doubt is the absence of certainty.
Living without doubt is as near impossible as living with certainty.
Certainty brings people together, but so does doubt.
Doubt is a broad church.
Doubt pervades all cultures; it is a most human instinct and drives the search for truth.
A perceived truth may be so strong nothing will induce doubt.

John Patrick Shanley explores these themes in his 2004 Tony and Pulitzer Prize-winning play – Doubt, A Parable.

Set in St Nicholas Catholic School, The Bronx in 1964, Sister Aloysius (Jayne Taini) is convinced that popular Father Flynn (John Behlmann) is plying an altar boy with communion wine in order to abuse him. Father Flynn – who the dialect coach furnished with a Boston accent – denies any improper conduct, accusing Sister James (Jennifer Lee Taylor) of spreading gossip and uses his sermon to point a wagging finger at her conduct.

He likens her action to someone who takes a feather pillow to the roof and slits it with a knife, scattering the feathers in the winds and four corners of the world. Gathering those feathers and stuffing them back in the pillow is like trying to redress a defamed reputation, says Flynn

Perhaps the most surprising aspect of the play was the determination of Sister Aloysius to confront Father Flynn, concocting her own lies to trap him, which she never does.

She attempts to enlist the help of the boy's mother Mrs. Muller (Lisa Renee Pitts) who instead providing help makes a passionate plea for the Sister to turn a blind eye so that her son, and the only black child at the school, can graduate and have an opportunity to attend a better school.

"It's only 'til the end of term," she pleads.

Father Flynn resigns under the relentless pressure from Sister Aloysius, and is promptly promoted to lead an order and school in another city.

Did Sister Aloysius do the right thing? In the end she agonizes and doubts both her own actions and those of Father Flynn who she accused so zealously.

The play, staged by Portland Center Stage in their remodeled, refurbished and beautiful armory building, carries it weighty subject with calm assuredness – no doubt about that.

#42 - A Chinese garden

The problem with visiting a Chinese garden is that as soon as you leave you want to visit another one. OK, it's a poor joke - but a good garden.
Located in Portland's downtown Chinatown and tucked away behind grey painted stone walls, the Portland Classical Chinese Garden is less extensive, but as expensive to visit as the more distant Japanese gardens. Rocks, water and buildings feature more profusely than flowering plants, giving a harsh defined edge to most vistas.

Japanese Garden, Portland

It is difficult to capture the shear beauty of this gardens either in words or pictures. Manicured is too clinical a word, perhaps ordered is better.

Each garden, a delight in itself, leads to another, blending stone, bamboo, sculptures and plants into organic shades and shapes.

Even in drizzly overcast weather, a fact of life in Portland as it is in England where it creates a similar green lushness of moss and foliage, the garden is serene and welcoming.

The price of a thirty-second thrill

Seven small steps lead to a painted platform, where, locked into place, rests what looks like a special love seat – with seat belts and shoulder harness.

At either side of the seat, two pairs of steel cables stretch tight as they soar up more than 150 feet into the air, disappearing at the top of flimsy steel towers, themselves guy roped back down to the platform's steel structure.

At the top of the steps, small wicker baskets provide a safe repository for pocketbooks, coins and keys – or anything else likely to fly loose in the brief vertical flight skyward.

A chubby raven haired woman tucks her flowing skirt under her legs, as if that will be enough to spare her modesty as she catapults from the ground, accelerating to 60 mph in under two seconds.

The scraggy bearded man next to her is all bravado, waving to friends on the ground in an exaggerated two-fisted pump. The sound of a motor whines into life and bank of 3-inch diameter coiled steel springs arranged in a 20 x 20 matrix begin to elongate under the determined influence of a hydraulic shaft, its surface glistening with fluid in the high noon sun.

For a fraction of a second there is silence following the clunk of the safety catch release. A scream rises in pitch as the love seat soars high into the air, tops out above the pylons, inverts, and the couple begins their face-down freefall accelerating at 32 feet per second, for each second they plummet towards the ground and certain oblivion.

Two-thirds of the way down to eternity, the steel cable pulls tight arresting the descent before firing the now silent duo back up to the top of the tower. The sinusoidal decay continues for a few more seconds, before the mechanism lowers them to ground where released from their restraints, they stumble towards the same steps previously trod with great gusto.

Muted victory salutes acknowledge reminders to retrieve their valuables from the baskets.

This is Portland, Oregon waterfront on Rose Festival week where such thrills come at the high price of $50 for a thirty-second ride to the sky.

The answer to your question is no, no way.

The optical art of Anish Kapoor

Visually stunning, disorientating, and acoustically engrossing, the oversize art from London-based Anish Kapoor on show at the Boston ICA invades the senses.

Individual pieces, some 12 feet high and 20 feet wide are grouped to compliment each other, but are best seen when the crowds are thinnest to allow plenty of time for experimentation.

This is achieved by positioning the eye or ear in different focal planes or at the focal point of the gracefully curved and highly polished forms.

Sounds and images change, depth perception alters. In fact with some pieces, it is impossible to tell if the image is a delicately shaded art image or an aperture that curves deep into the gallery wall. Initially the only clue is the strategically positioned member of security, alert and attentive to any attempt to touch or reach into the artwork.

Members preview night on Wednesday was a little too crowded to fully take in the work and I recommend viewing the ICA made film about the sculptor and the cultural inspiration behind his work before viewing the actual pieces. It will explain the construction techniques and heighten the delight when you do see them in close up.

Details and slideshow of the work can be seen on the ICA website, but this is one show you should experience in person to appreciate its shear scale.

Monday in the park with the Band of Liberty

The diversity of events in our region never ceases to amaze and delight me. Perhaps it is the result of a happy confluence of history and military presence.

Like me, you may have not heard of, or heard playing, The United States Air Force Band of Liberty. Stationed at Hanscom Air Force Base – an electronic counter measures research site and home to a military population of 3000, including family members – the Band of Liberty is a 60-strong ensemble of talented musicians who play music from jazz to swing to military marches and the classics.

On Monday, Minuteman National Park played host to the Band of Liberty on an afternoon sunny enough to drive the audience to find shade, but breezy enough to give the musicians timing problems as they made repeated attempts to turn over their sheet music.
The program, which ran for nearly almost two hours non-stop on this Memorial weekend, had a strong theme of remembrance, but not in a morbid or overtly solemn sense.
Rather, the tunes themselves offered up their own memories, featuring classics from the eras of past conflicts – WWI to Vietnam. Nor was the music limited to instruments, thanks to fine singing renditions from three of the service members.

A serviceman with a distinct gravelly 'James Earl Jones' voice narrated portions of past presidential speeches, as relevant today as when they first given life.
It is not possible to capture the quality of musical performance in my words. Trust me, this is a very accomplished set of musicians.

I checked the bands website and music is available for streaming, but not for purchase. Indeed, the only way to hear it in CD quality is for your local library to request a set of CD's from the Band of Liberty directly and then to borrow the discs from the library.
Here's a brief sample from The Band of Liberty website:

From On Silver Wings, released in 2007:
1. On Silver Wings (10.29 MB)
2. Air Force Hymn (7.06 MB)
3. No Finer Calling- An Airman's Symphony- Movement I (5.41 MB)
4. No Finer Calling- An Airman's Symphony- Movement II (6.86 MB)
5. No Finer Calling- An Airman's Symphony- Movement III (15.08 MB)


From Salute to the American Spirit, released in the wake of the tragedy of September 11, 2001:
1. Fantasia in G (5.43 MB)
2. America Is (3.9 MB)
3. When You Believe (4.85 MB)
4. Let Freedom Ring (4.44 MB)
5. George Washington Bicentennial March (4.18 MB)

Photo's from the event

The tale of two W's

A hike in the morning and beer samples in the afternoon make for a great day out. The fact that both can be found not more than five miles apart around Westminster, MA, and have a strong connection to each other makes it even more interesting.
Mass Audubon Wachusett Meadows Wildlife Sanctuary offers numerous trails, old stonewalls, beaver bonds and miles of trails such as the one that leads up to Browns Hill, a 1320 foot hump that offers great views of Wachusett Mountain to the north and the beaver flooded marshlands to the south. Trail maps are available at the office.
From the boundary of the sanctuary to the north, the Mid-State Trail snakes gently for 2 miles through trillium studded woodland towards the summit of Mount Wachusett before exploding upwards over the last half mile in a leg-burning, lung-busting… well you get the idea… climb up natural granite steps to reach the summit. From there, views extend as far away as Boston, some 50 miles to the east.
The round trip from sanctuary to summit is 8.2 miles, has an elevation gain of 1471 feet, and is achievable by any reasonably ambulatory person, the only variable being how long it will take.

Also highly achievable is a tour around the Wachusett Brewery Company, which runs every hour from noon, (but not every day, so check their website). Started in 1994 and still owned by the original three founders, all engineering graduates from Worcester Polytechnic Institute, the brewery has grown to be the second largest packager of beer (bottles and kegs) in Massachusetts after the Harpoon Brewery. The largest brewer, Boston Beer Company (brewers of Sam Adams), do not bottle in MA.
The tour is informative (thanks to brewer, Dave Higgins) and the brewery allows each customer two small beer samples afterwards - my favorites being their IPA and a beer called Green Monsta.
I've bought the IPA and Country Ale on draft locally and in bottles, but nothing compares to the fresh brewed, just pumped taste of those samples.
The brewery sells refillable growlers, pricey for the initial purchase of the 'glass' (which is a work of art) at $20, but each 2-liter refill (about six 12oz bottles) costs only $6 thereafter.

It's just a pity they are so far away, but all the more reason for another hike when the beer runs out.

The walk (click on image for larger pictures)

Cranes Beach awaits your attention

New England offers an amazing range of environments, from challenging mountains to soft and yielding seashore.
Cranes Beach provides easy walking, soft sand, seashells, flotsam and jetsam, sun bleached garbage abraded into new shapes by the tides, and my own favorite, tree roots.
Nothing is more fascinating than the salt whitened shape and form of a large tree root, battered and smoothed, immersed and dried in cycle dictated only by the moon and tides.
State and Trustees of Reservations laws forbid removal of such items, and rightly so as they provide a natural trap for small living organisms important to diet of foraging birds.
Each time I go back to this place, usually before the summer crowds take over, wind whipped dunes are missing or perhaps simply relocated.
The Red Trail walk through scrub wood and crunching pine needles comes with a subtle scorched-cotton aroma, before topping out over sand dunes for the first blue water views.
The moderate walk is 5.8 miles of sheer delight, stretching far out to a marshy headland, before looping back along miles of flat beaches.
This is a peaceful place. A place where communication with others, with the land and sea and with one's self comes naturally.

One walk - many views (click on photo to go to album)

Lacking in earnest.

Maybe changing our usual seats gave me a new perspective; one I did not like. Somehow being in row 'I' (rhymes with high) distanced me from the action, even allowed for a few minutes of guilt free shut eye.
The Importance of Being Earnest is a classic, but for me, the Lyric Stage Company production failed to deliver the punch lines with enough power, inflection and timing to do justice to Wildes words.
Algernon's character was just not large enough in terms of stage presence.
I waited with keen anticipation for Lady Bracknell's immortal line, "A handbag? A handbag?", and it seemed so did Bobbie Steinbach playing the part. The audience reaction said it all. Flat. As flat as the delivery.
Where was the explosion of indignation, the withering stare, the pause for audience reaction?
It was left to Ed Hoopman as Jack to save the day, projecting some of the plays best lines in his booming voice far into the blackness of the rafters.
Attending later performances in a run, polished with time, perhaps has spoiled me.
But, I'm still signing up for Lyric Stage Company season tickets next year.
How could I not? Its become one of my best of Boston traditions.

On aging and making mistakes

I have aged 20 years over the last three days, hopefully on a temporary basis. For these long days, getting in and out of a car is a tedious mix of twists and turns and false starts, gasps of pain and quick adjustments. Looking over my shoulder to reverse from a parking space is next to impossible, as is turning the steering wheel to get into the same gap.
It's tough to reach up, it's tough to reach down, dropped items go unclaimed or wait until two or three are at the same level. Standing up, sitting down, lying down and turning over in bed, causes wrenching muscle spasms and squeaks, grunts or shouts of pain , depending on the element of surprise.
Sneezing, laughing, blowing my nose and undertaking other necessary daily routine body functions, well let's just say it all takes a very long time – and hurts.
What brought me to this level?
A sequence of events of course: no snow baskets on my hiking poles, allowing their support to vanish at a critical moment; a pack overloaded for the conditions due to late changes from a day hike plan to full backpack; faulty traction devices (do not ever by Stabilicers – the majority of traction studs of mine simply fell out in the first 2 miles). I could go on.
I fell about 10 vertical feet in several stages, first slip, grind arm on rock, attempt to rebalance using poles, topple head first, flail and turn sideways head still pointing down towards a tree, twist and land on my side, on a log, pack up and over my head, it's 40lbs of weight pinning me, crushing the damaged rib further.
Did I cry out – you bet, with every breath I tried to take until rescue came ten gasps later when the pack was unstrapped and lifted clear.
We should have walked out the 5 miles back to the trailhead and abandoned or modified the weekends plans.
We didn't.
We carried on, climbed two 4000-foot peaks on Saturday, hiking 7.9 miles. We slept in a three sided shelter and climbed three more peaks over 4200 feet high (one of them twice when we took a wrong term with me head down in the front) plus the same two Saturday peaks as we had to retrace our steps to leave New Hampshire's Pemigewasset Wilderness. The completed round trip totaled 20.3 miles with 7029 feet of elevation gain and loss.
Sympathy, no thanks.
A huge slice of good luck - plenty considering the spear like tree limbs, boulders, other obstacles - and the fact a women visiting from China died not 6 miles away last Thursday when a 5 feet by 3 feet by 20 inch slab boulder broke loose and fell on her.
Wilderness lessons to share, plenty.
Here are the good views of the weekend

Storm Over Everest

I sat in the audience of filmmakers, producers, mountaineers and 60 or so other people who had applied to attend a preview of Frontline's 'Storm Over Everest' in WGBH's plush Brighton studio auditorium.
Prayer flags strung along the sidewalls fluttered in the air conditioning.
Climber, producer, director, David Breashears waited 10 years, almost to the day, to release a film the events of 1996, when 11 died on Everest in what has been variously described as a freak storm and a failure of leadership.
I have read several accounts by those involved, Jon Krakauer, Anatoli Boukreev, Doug Hansen, to name three. Each differs in there account, unsurprising given that most of what happened occurred above 26,000 feet, where, put quite simply, the brain fails to function.
Breashears' film does not solve any of the many riddles, not does it provide much fresh information. What is does do beautifully, using a mix of simulation and first hand accounts, is to put the events in the context of the appalling conditions in which some died, some lived, some were heroes and others were found wanting.
A nervous Breashears, who was on Everest with his IMAX film team and took part in the many rescue attempts, introduced his work and he answered only a few questions after the preview.
In fact Breashears seemed as concerned that is two godchildren approved of his efforts as he did the audience. At least they gave him a thumbs up afterwards.
None of the Storm Over Everest film footage came from Breashears 1996 filming activity and is a recreation of conditions. This does not detract from the film's emotional poignancy, exemplified by the audience silence during rolling of the credits, before breaking out into a mix of applause that ranged from polite to enthusiastic.
The film will be aired on PBS on Tuesday May 13 and online until June 16.
I recommend putting on a down jacket, turning the air conditioning to minimum, yanking up the audio system volume and trying to imagine what it was like to be trapped in the death zone. Just don't try and figure out why – it's what people do.

What's in a name?

Like me, you may never have heard of Domenikos Theotokopoulos.
Not only is the name a mouthful for non-native speakers of Greek, but it lacks something in the way of branding that 'El Greco', Spanish for 'The Greek', conjures up so admirably.

This wasn't one of my first thoughts as I wandered through the Boston's MFA special exhibition, but it did set me thinking about brand and image (as did the recent Annie Leibovitch photo of Miley Ray Cyrus aka Disney's Hannah Montana - but for different reasons - like exploitation).

The fact that El Greco was talented and that his paintings have an elongated, mystical and at times overpowering weight to them, would probably have counted for little without support and sponsorship, in his case from the Duke of Lerma and later Philip III.

El Greco also had some luck, albeit at the second attempt.

His first attempts to gain court acceptance did not find favor with Philip II - who might have been pre-occupied with four marriages, the inquisition, expelling all non-catholics from Spain and trying to invade England with his Armada - and El Greco returned to his home.

Later, after Domenikos Theotokopoulos painted an altarpiece, his work found favor and he became widely known as El Greco and one of the first branded artists.

I wonder if Miley would sooner be known as the brand Hannah Montana or more simply as Miley - certainly it appears that father Billy Ray and mother Tish are looking to alter the perception of their daughter.

Another loaded walk

Rain is your friend.
At least that's what I told myself as I tramped up and down the hills of Middlesex Fells on a training hike, carrying 50lbs in my new Osprey Aether 85 (liter) backpack.
Rain cooled me down, rain made everything a vivid green, rain made the rocks wet and slippery giving an excuse to go slow and steady. Rain meant I could try out my new Seattle Sombrero from Outdoor Research.

Seven miles and 3 hours 45 minutes of Skyline Trail hike time, and a short drive later, beer and nachos were my new friends.

The pack stood up well, sat comfortably and can only improve when I get the belt custom heat-molded to my hip bones (if I can find them).

On the other hand, the hat looked slightly over the top, but in Alaska will probably go completely unnoticed.

Three Tall Women - Lyric Stage Company reaches new heights

Albee's 1991 Pulitzer Prize-winning play, directed by the Lyric's Spiro Veloudos, is simply quite stunning.

The biographically story of Albee's estranged, adoptive mother is told in snarling, senile, humorous, and at times, pathetic terms by the three actors who dominate the stage with performances that are astounding in their complexity and delivery.

Anne Scurria as the 92-year old version, dying from a compendium of ailments, gives a performance of acid vindictiveness and tragic decline that should be rewarded with a best actress award or two at year end. Please shoot me if I ever end up like this woman.

Paula Plum plays the 52-year old version of the same woman, who believes that now is the best time of her life, knowing what she knows and at ease with herself and the path she has chosen. Plum is at once sprightly and humorous and oozes a rich sensuality that the much younger version of herself comes nowhere near. Were it not for the presence and performance of Scurria, Plum may well have stolen the show.

Working hard not to be out done by the classy performance of two of Boston's best acting talents, Liz Hayes as the 26-year-old version plays her role admirably, imparting her character with a solid mix of naivety and hope, convinced that she can never become the two women with whom she shares the stage.

The fact that all three are on stage at the same time, convincingly playing the same person but at different stages in their life and discussing with each other what has become of them and why, is an amazing piece of writing from Albee.

The play runs until April 26 and for me this performance alone, compressed into the Lyric Stage Company's intimate setting, is worth the price of the season ticket for the all the other plays put together.

Lincoln Minute Men Muster

It's not every day that I get to interview figures from the eighteenth century and write about it from my perspective for publication.

Captain William Smith, woken at 2 a.m by Mary Hartwell, herself roused by Dr. Prescott after the capture of Paul Revere rides into the center of Lincoln to muster the militia.

The story as printed in the Lincoln Journal.

It is the time of year, with winter exhausted and taxes filed, when colonial militiamen recreating events from 1775, chase weary and outnumbered British soldiers back to Boston
Read more...

The real event - music and action

OK, here's the real event, I'm just sorry I did not capture the sound - perhaps you'll join us next year and hear it first hand?

Space invader - living in a world of your own

Sometimes words fail me, which for a writer is a wee problem. It happened the other day at a fife and drum concert in Lincoln, ostensibly a celebratory occasion in Pierce Park when marching bands play music from the revolutionary days.

Now you have to imagine a very large an empty field, with people scattered about and a smaller roped off arena where the bands play. Some people bring low-slung chairs, others, like us, spread out on blankets.

We left a respectable gap between the arena rope and our blanket, into which wandered a party of four, two women, one man and a younger girl. One of the women carried a garish blue and green umbrella that she must have got for free judging by the logos adorning its sides. It wasn't raining, nor did it appear likely. No this monstrosity was a sunshade (in April) and shielded the woman, and could have kept the suns warming rays of everyone in the party. Rays that would have meant she might have been able to remove the fleece blanket-like jacket she wore.

As she made herself comfortable a few feet in front of me I asked politely, or so I thought, if she intended to use the sunshade once the bands started to play.

"Aren't you high enough to see over it?" she asked without making eye contact, although that would have been difficult through her sunglasses.

"Well no, not really and I think it's a bit rude," I said.

What I wanted to say was, "Is this how your mother taught you? I this any example you set your daughter, to push in front, to have no regard for anyone else, to carry such an obnoxious glaring piece of Chinese produced crap and place it right in front of me," but she had already turned away, obscured behind the umbrella.

It occurred to me that perhaps the woman was unwell, perhaps a cancer survivor or undergoing treatment. I demurred and moved away, but it seemed that every angle, every photograph featured the umbrella. I have no way of knowing if she was ill or just ill mannered, but it added a sour note to an otherwise excellent musical event.

Eventful Patriots Day

Compared to last years rain soaked weekend this one was sublimely tropical. Somethings don't change though. like the bright colors, loud noises, enthusiasm of re-enactors and beer and chilli afterwards.

For those that couldn't make it, enjoy the show.

Spuds were never this heavy

When I were a lad I'd go to the farm with my dad and pick up a 56lb bag of spuds and waddle with it to boot of his old Austin A40. It were a right struggle and no mistake.
OK let's drop the Hovis bread accent. But that was and still is a lot of weight to carry, even for a short distance.

On Saturday I began my Alaska hike conditioning and since I figure I need to carry somewhere north of 5olbs, what better way to practice than to load up my backpack with 56lbs and start walking for a 7 mile round trip to Merriam's Corner along the Battle Road.
Thankfully an early Patriots Day event started shortly after my arrival at the historic site and the hour long ceremony provided adequate recovery time before the walk back.
Total walking time racked up - a measly two hours with an elevation gain and loss of a derisory 110 feet.
To put this in perspective, the 12-day Alaska hike has a gain of 11,956 feet and a loss of 13,512 feet - so basically it's a few thousand feet downhill, right?

Did I ache after lugging that load? Surprisingly only in my hip joints. But it did make me realize how important it will be to get in some 5-day (or longer) hikes with a full load well before this summer's big trip.

'Last Post' for winter hiking

It's over, done with, crampons sharpened and oiled, ice ax hung tenderly in the back hallway and boots dried and, of necessity, airing out as I write.

It was a great weekend in New England, especially in New Hampshire, where we took the opportunity to get in one last winter hike for the season - before the warmer weather turns the remaining snow to slush.
Mount Washington, home to wind speeds of up to 231mph - the highest recorded anywhere on earth – beckoned.
The Tuckerman Ravine and Lion’s Head trail rises 4256 feet to 6288 feet over a distance of 5 miles, with the last 1200 feet, a rocky, icy climb, in a little over 1 mile.
Out and back, carrying about 25lbs of winter gear and wearing 4.5lbs of mountaineering boots and crampons on each foot, took a little over 8 hours. Once again, the Lion’s Head winter route provided plenty of technical challenge, overcome by toe-pointing and a deftly swung ice ax.
Wind speeds at the summit were light at 33mph, with gusts up to 56mph and temperatures a balmy 22F.
A 32-mile drive along the Kangamangus Highway (a misnamed narrow twisty two-way road) and we were at the Franconia Ridge side of the White Mountains and set up after eight hours sleep (on the floor of our host’s cabin) for day 2 – a 12 miles round trip hike up Mount Garfield.
Garfield’s grade is less aggressive than Washington, with a summit at 4500 feet, rising from 1400 feet at the road and requires a one-mile walk-in along a forest road before the trail begins.
Five miles later, after a couple of rock-hopping stream crossings, tangling with the close-packed tops of fir trees poking through the snow and post-holing (sinking up to the thigh in softening snow) more than 20 times, the summit and its old fire tower base offers spectacular views.

Mount Washington photos:



Mount Garfield photos:



Roll on spring and the mud season - because then it's summer.

A weekend of two halves

We spent all day Saturday doing our civic duty, voting to spend taxpayers money at the Lincoln Town Meeting. And yes, I did stand up twice to ask questions and make a point, although I left the hat at home.

Highlight was the adoption of a warrant article to reduce the use of fossil based fuels in new construction and major renovation of town owned buildings (including residential) by 50 percent by next year (2008) and to eliminate its use completely by 2030 - a very aggressive schedule. The town is following the lead of the Architecture Challenge 2030 initiative.

The warrant is particularly relevant given the Lincoln Public Schools K-8 identified the need to spend between $33 million and $65 million on rehabilitation or rebuilding over the next 10 years and the town's green environment committee identifies these public building as the least energy efficient in the town.

It was also good news for people who like to speed through Lincoln as they make a rat run around 128 bottlenecks in their dash to Routes 2 and 2A. The town voted to spend $5.5 million dollars over three years fixing its notorious - some would say quintessentially Lincolnesque - potholes.
Sorry everyone, the work will not start until after next winter's pothole season.

So if Saturday involved sitting in the dimly lit Brooks Auditorium for a little over nine hours, albeit for me for the first time in the "comfy seats" rather than steel chairs set out for non-voters, then Middlesex Fells once again provided an antidote of blue sky, bright sunshine and croaking of tree frogs in place of, at times, the long winded carping of residents.

We met up with AMC friends for a more leisurely walk of the Skyline Trail which afford the opportunity to spot and handle a garter snake, listen to freshly minted tree frogs and see numerous birds, including red tailed hawks and a great blue heron swooping overhead.

Sadly the Osprey Aether backpack was missing from this trip. It's on back-order - one of the many other signs of spring.

Middlesex Fells a revelation of a reservation

OK, so no snow, elevation, mountain vistas or cold weather, but Middlesex Fells, only 20 minutes from home (excluding the time taken to find a parking spot among the dog brigade) is nothing short of delightful and proved a great place to try out my new Asolo Fugitive GTX boots.

The 7-mile long Skyline trail, cunningly marked with white blazes to simulate the Appalachian Trail, criss-crosses the parks other trails to such an extent that it is more a test of observation than stamina. Its craggy terrain, mix of mud and occasional steep section were a vast improvement on the silly-sloped test bed found in most outdoor stores. Pity it left its mark on the sole - guess I'll be keeping these boots, despite the relaxed fit.
Covering the 7 miles in a little under 3 hours under light to no-load conditions sets a useful benchmark for measuring fitness conditioning as we count down to the big trip.

Next up it will provide the perfect place to try out my new Osprey Aether pack, the one I currently covet for our Alaska back country trip. That is when I buy it.

Another weekend of magic in the snow

We got to play in the snow again as part of the above treeline workshop run by the Boston Chapter of the Appalachian Mountain Club. Thanks to Larry, Reji and Bob for all their sound advice and encouragement.

Check out the self-arrest practice.



Lot of fun.

More pictures: Harvard Cabin Above Treeline

Cardigan Lodge High Cabin

The high cabin is situated about 2 miles and 1200 feet above the much cozier Cardigan Lodge. Only two hours from Boston and with some brutal above tree line weather, great snowshoe trails makes this a great getaway destination.
We had an interesting weekend, as much for the personalities, as for the hiking activities which felt curtailed by some participants lacking the correct gear required for the trip above tree line.
Still, as this was billed as a workshop, much learning took place.
For example, carry firewood to replenish cabin supplies, even if only three logs, makes for a long slow climb. Oh, and there's only so much food (which I have to say was all very filling and tasty) that seven people can eat and carrying it both ways feels, well, excessive.

I used my Osprey Atmos 65 pack for the first time. I just love its suspension system, easy access and abundance of useful features all in a 3lb 12oz package for the tall version.

Sideshow

Crawford Notch Weekend - winter hiking

• The Shapleigh Studio Bunkhouse is much warmer than Harvard Hut. A delight.
• Arrive early to snag the four-person room (with en-suite toilet and clothes storage). It also has the benefit of not being a thoroughfare, unlike the 12-person bunkhouse.
• If you snag the four person room, try not to look too smug all weekend as you pass through the masses to your domain.
  
• Having a bottom bunks make organizing gear easier than doing so on the top bunk, so be aware of the difficulties someone 'up top' may be having.
  
• When lights go out people are respectful of each other's need to sleep. Snoring was not a problem (at least not for me).
  
• Make sure lights go out at reasonable time (like 10 p.m.) and if two people want to carry on discussing gear until 11:15 p.m. (even if they're leaders) ask that they do so outside of the sleeping area in the communal space.
• Food is plentiful and filling, if a little overcooked (and kept warm too long).
• Add a fruit teabag to hot water in your Nalgene bottle to provide a hot/warm interesting drink for the hike.
• Packets of honey make a useful quick energy boost squeezed from packet or dissolved in water.
• The Highland Center is not particularly conducive to group bonding. There are too many alternative places to go – like film shows, ping-pong, the fireside or bunkhouse.
• After a 9.2 mile hike lasting from 8a.m.until 4:30 p.m. and an elevation gain of 2700 feet, the bunkhouse is too tempting an option.
• If you take a bigger pack then you will tend to overload it with unnecessary gear.
• The weekend pace seems non-stop. Breakfast at 6:30 a.m.; pack gear and convene at 7:30 a.m.; depart for hike at 8:00 a.m.; hike until darkness; shower/change and happy hour; dinner at 6:00 p.m. and then other activities or exhaustion.
  
• Repeat first three next day.
• The hiking pace is steady but constant, with the longest stop being one of 15 minutes with multiple stops for water, snack and layer changes of one, two or three minutes.
  
• Calling out length duration of stops e.g. one minute water break, two minute layer strip, three minutes to eat, drink and adjust gear etc. works really well in keeping the group organized and moving (thanks Larry).
• Anyone cna and should call a stop when they need too.
  
• After a long hike it's worth knowing that the shower nearest to the kitchen area runs cold or lukewarm at best. It has a long-term valve problem according to the caretaker.
• Towels are provided, so you don't have t pack one.
  
• Trip leaders are knowledgeable and communicate well to a mixed cross-section of ages, fitness and experience. They don't always have to be in front and will let you take your turn route finding and trail breaking.
  
• There is a wide range of fitness levels, some people overestimate theirs and can usually be seen carry an over sized pack.
  
• Group dynamics were excellent for most of the weekend - AMC people are amazing, but...
  
• If people are silent while hiking, it does not mean they are unfriendly – just enjoying the peacefulness.
• Some people like to talk about themselves too much, which is OK the first time you hear it, but when the same information is conveyed loudly to multiple people in the same hiking party, it becomes.. well, boring. It invades the quietness of winter, snow falling from trees, the swish-glop sound of snowshoes on powder and water running under thin ice.
• Quiet two person conversations are OK (but difficult when hiking in a line with adequate 'slip and slide space' between hikers.
  
• You can be too hot in air temperatures of 34F in a couple of thin base layers when hiking up hill in calm weather. Same applies when it's 10 or 20F
  
• Carry fewer layers – and ideally use a multipurpose soft shell with 'windstopper' water repellent fabric.
• Re-tie boots tighter at the ankle for descents – to pull foot further back
• Leave boots tied loosely at ankle for ascents to allow for inclination angle and prevent shin bang damage.
• The winter views are simple amazing.

More Photos:
Mount Pierce and Mount Eisenhower
Mount Jackson
Mount Avalaon