March 2022 – Fine + Fir

The April Fool is me

This is an embarrassing moment for me.

I’m going to be open and exposed.

Raw and SEEN.

This is a story I can tell now that there are at least a dozen years behind me and a most unfortunate situation. But it still makes me cringe a thousand cringes. And ask myself, ”Stace, did you really??”

”I mean, REALLY??”

Long ago and far away in 2006, little baby Stacie was in a vulnerable place.

New job, new town, new STATE. I had moved to New York at the end of 2004 after graduating from college in Indiana and was completely unfamiliar with my surroundings. My first year and half involved bouncing from job to job to find the one.

In February of ’06 I found a job, I didn’t know yet that it was the one, and set to work (no pun intended) getting to know my role and my coworkers. It was my first foray in politics; I worked for a New York State Senator who would grow to prominence in our corner of the state.

In this new town, there was a local weekly publication called The Chronicle; it was a no-spin newspaper that covered exactly what I wanted to know about this whole new world in front of me. The Chronicle told me who was buying the empty building downtown and when the local hockey team was playing next.

And I really felt like I could trust what I read.

Until April 1st.

That very first April 1st.

The Chronicle publishes an April Fools edition of their paper that, on the front page only, brings the most nearly-possible, yet totally absurd ideas to life with pictures and ”interviews” and thorough reporting. Because it is a weekly paper published on Thursdays only, the April Fools edition didn’t always fall on April 1st. On March 31st you could find yourself with a fresh-off-the-press copy, completely unaware.

Enter Stace.

Literally. Let’s watch as she enters her regular coffee shop down the street from the office. Watch as she orders her drink and peruses the front page of the most recent Chronicle. It’s around April 1st, but Stacie is a grown-ass-adult and no longer on the lookout for pranksters and bullies itchin’ for a good gag.

A title catches her eye.

DEC to let beavers rebuild Hadlock Dam

Well, that’s interesting. She thinks.

Not that long ago the Hadlock Dam in a neighboring town broke down and drained Hadlock Pond. The pond is in her boss’s district and an issue she knew her coworkers were heavily involved in.

I mean, we’re talking files inches thick of correspondence.

(Side note: DEC is the Department of Environmental Conservation.)

A pressing, timely issue.

One she was sure her coworkers would be interested to know if there were alternative proposals floating around out there!

She reads.

“Beavers are nature’s engineers.”

Of course they are!

”The plan would allow the beavers to naturally build their own timber dam… crews would fill in cracks with cement…check for structural soundness…”

Ok. Brilliant.

Friends, I ran. Not walked. Ran. To my office.

I burst in the door.

I yelled to my co-workers, ”THEY’RE GOING TO LET BEAVERS REBUILD THE DAM!!”

“BEAVERS!”

Ala: “THEY’VE LANDED ON THE MOON!!”

I was full of awe and excitement! I explained the complexities, the engineering involved.

I rationalized the plan. Out loud.

The plan to let beavers build a fully functional dam that livelihoods depended on.

And then….

I heard nothing.

Not a peep.

**Cringe**

No excitement, no questions, no response.

I thought nothing of it, until One. Year. Later. when I read the 2007 April Fools edition. Me, not-so-new to this world, recognized the absurdity and then…

Extreme camera zoom. Record screech. Eyes. Wide. Open in realization.

First realization: I believed a state agency that is full of highly qualified professionals was going to let beavers, BEAVERS, rebuild a dam. A DAM for crying out loud!

Second realization: I shouted this, SHOUTED, from the freakin’ rooftops to people I barely knew.

**Long pause while I just crawl under this table here**

I’m glad I can’t actually see you roll your eyes.

Enjoy my pain, ya sickos.

Thinkin’ spring, but it’s still so cold!

My first memories of spring were of flowers and sunshine and walking barefoot in my backyard.

Sundresses and strappy sandals.

My sisters flanking me in our (always) matching Easter dresses

It was spring before it was officially spring.

That’s because I grew up in Southern California. Life may not have been carefree or safe, but it was WARM.

Those days are lonnnnnng behind me and so so far away, literally. Now in the upperright, opposite coast we see spring on the calendar and then count two more months before the ground thaws enough to dig in our gardens.

My first spring away from the West Coast I didn’t understand why it wasn’t warm during my ”spring” break. ”But….it’s SPRING.” I could not wrap my baby brain around the calendar not matching the weather.

And now my middle-ish aged brain still struggles as we watch the daylight grow longer while the snow falls harder. But…it’s SPRING!

BUT…

It’s SPRING!! Which means day by day we get closer to those first daffodils poking through. Closer to the first buds on trees and shrubs. Closer to green grass and baby birds!

My dad said the same thing every winter after we left California.

He’d say, ”remember when all of this was GREEN?!” And we’d laugh because of course we did and if we didn’t laugh we’d cry the frozen little tears of southerners whose blood was too thin.

One summer he said, “remember when all of this was WHITE?!” and then we killed him.

I kid. We loved the winter in those early years. It brought snow days and snow men and sledding and snowball fights and those perfect naps of exhausted babes freshly warmed by dry clothes.

But there is just something so encouraging about the growth and rebirth of spring. Even in California we watched the old die and the new grow in it’s place. Now the effect is so much BIGGER as it’s a much BIGGER extreme from the below zero temps in winter to a perfect 60 degree spring day. But it’s also a BIGGER struggle as we anticipate the coming of those warmer days.

Hence this post. I’m reminding myself that Spring. Will. Come.

It always does, Stace.

And in the meantime, switch out those winter decorations for spring. Shop for the flower seeds you want to plant in May.

Maybe pick out a bright pink yarn for that spring sweater you’ve wanted to knit for yourself. You know, because even when it’s warm out here it’s never really WARM.

Lol.

Extreme Sledding

**Warning, controversy alert.

We are going to cover a topic that on mountain forums is hotly debated.

And no, for anyone with a single minute of winter hiking experience, I am not talking about the “P” word.

Me: looks around nervously.

Absolutely no one:

Post-holing, I mean I’m not talking about post-holing. For now at least. That’s an argument that deserves a good amount of rest before tackling.

Vague much?

Today we cover EXTREME SLEDDING! Also known as hiking up a mountain and instead of trudging down, weary and cold, sliding down…on your butt!

WOOSH! WOOSH!!

For me, this is the number one reason to hike in the winter.

Maybe tied for first. The views are spec-tac-u-lar.

The quietness and serenity: also grand.

So one of the TOP THREE reasons to hike: sledding.

The controversy comes in when you find a group of purists who believe you walk up a mountain and then walk down, as nature intends for you to travel. You leave the trail in pristine condition, and anything other than a snowshoe track is an affront to the mountain and to your fellow man.

Please. People who are more knowledgeable: educate me. Because after years of sliding on my backside down trails of all conditions, after climbing up trails after someone has previously slid down, I cannot find a way that this practice is a no-no.

In light of no contradictory information, let’s talk about BUTT-SLEDDING!

I always end up carrying the baboon-butt-sleds up; small price to pay.

STEP ONE

Get yourself a real sled. You are not going to be able to fashion something small and sturdy enough on your own with everyday household items.

Like dollar store plastic placemats and twine.

Like cardboard and duct tape.

Like grocery bags.

Like your plain ’ol snow-panted butt.

Hypothetically speaking, of course.

THIS (pictured above) is the sled that we use. Inexpensive and sturdy. Came quick and the whole family has gotten many fast and furious miles of enjoyment out of them.

STEP TWO

Find your climb.

In THIS POST I directed you to our favorite hiking implement, the AllTrails GPS hiking app. In addition to keeping you from wandering blind and lost through the wilderness and the inevitable death by hypothermia, AllTrails also tells you the grade of your hike! A 20% grade is great for meandering up to the top. A 20% grade is not going to be steep enough to make a grand descent.

We’ve found that sweet spot around 35%.

Of course that depends on the condition of the trail and weather. Is it a warm, above freezing day? Great! But the snow is going to be mushy and bunch up under your sled. Look for trails with a steeper grade. Is it cold? Cloudy? Icy? Hang on to your butts because you are in for a teeth-rattling ride at any grade.

STEP THREE

Go. Hike. That. Mountain!

Scout out the sweet spots for sliding on your way up. Take note of any rocks, downed trees or other impalement hazards.

For the 40ish-and-over club, mentally prepare yourself for the eventual bruising and soreness to come because you are not made for this. I spent the winter of 2020 with bruises on my thighs the size of my face from bouncing off boulders and trees AND YET: totally worth it.

TIPS

Let’s talk safety.

First, you’re hiking a mountain in the winter, remember, so plan accordingly:

Warm clothes, socks and mittens
Insulated boots
Spikes and snowshoes
Water (remember, DLIFS: don’t let it freeze, stupid)
AllTrails App

And second, on your way down:

DO look ahead at the trail you’re planning to sled down. Are you near a cliff? Maybe DON’T sled there.

DO watch for hikers on their way up. DON’T run them over, plz.

DO use your spikes as breaks.

DO shriek with wild abandon.

DO freakin’ enjoy yourself, you wild and crazy kid.

Vacay in the ADKs

When they go low, we go high…in altitude!

While most kids head down south to warmer weather and sandy beaches for their mid-winter school break, for the past two years we’ve headed north with the 12-year-old to drag her up and down mountains in near zero temps.

Child abuse?

We prefer to call it ”character building.”

She loves it.

On deck for this year’s break were just two mountains, one super easy warm up, the other a bit of a ball-buster. (Down from two ball-busters because someone wanted to have a life and, like, go home early to make it to a sleep over birthday party, or whatever.)

(And with that I’m done saying ”balls” because I know it’s making my mom uncomfortable.)

The first day of our mini-break provided clear blue skies, views for miles and smiles, lots and lots of smiles. We have been climbing the firetowers in the Adirondack Park lately, and this one was short and sweet. A quick two miles, hard packed snow and only 200 feet of elevation gain.

We didn’t even earn the mac ’n cheese skillets we devoured back at our hotel later on.

The second day brought a winter storm. One that dumped half a foot of snow before we even got to the mountain, and another half a foot while we were out trudging to the top. The kind of storm that weather guys and gals recommend you stay inside for.

It was miserable.

Mark and I were miserable, and the poor kid was miserable.

The climb was hard on its own. Elevation gain from the very first step. The driving snow that filled in our tracks with every step and soaked into our clothes only made the hard stuff harder.

Snowshoes, a winter must-have for this very reason!

Every ten yards we stopped to breathe, and every hundred yards we stopped to remind the kid that we can turn around if she doesn’t think she can make it.

She made it.

Of course she did. Girlfriend is tough as nails. Despite all that pre-teen angst, she pushed through with strength and determination she might not have known was even there. But she knows now. And I’m so excited to see what she does with it.

(The pizza and ice cream promised at the finish was probably a bit of a motivator too, but let’s say it was a solid 90% strength and determination that got her there.)

	That one time I almo… on Extreme Sledding
	Stacie on On Cape in Wellfleet, Mass
	Bobbie taravella on On Cape in Wellfleet, Mass
	Let’s get dirty… on The April Fool is me
	dldina on The April Fool is me