All posts by Benj

Hello, 2015! We have plans for you.

I received the tentative list of inns booked for June! This is getting real. An average of 12 miles per day still seems like just a number. Maybe it’s best if I keep it that way as long as possible.

Meanwhile I have a few months left to be thirty-something. Then I’ll need to buckle down and start doing something with my life. I still have time if I act now, right? RIGHT?!

2015, you are the first chapter of the rest of my life story. Long or short, comedy or tragedy, I have a feeling it will at least be a page-turner. Now where’s my corkscrew?

Collaboration

File this under “Aimlessly Wandering Pebbles” rather than migratory ones. I have a lot of strange and unrelated hobbies. But my New Year’s resolution is to collaborate more in creative endeavors. So let’s talk about my longest running collaboration to date.

Alicia Bessette and I have been friends since high school. I enjoyed her writing in English class and in our school’s literary magazine, and I respected how she already knew in 10th grade what she wanted to be when she grew up: a writer. Along the way I heard her play piano, both in recitals and just messing around in the school auditorium.

I’m not sure what possessed me, almost a decade later, to not only suggest that she record an album, but to suggest that I produce it. I guess I’m often overcome by confidence that exceeds my actual abilities. Mind you, I had no training in piano myself, nor in sound engineering, nor in anything else that would be useful to this collaboration. I just had this urge to make it happen.

20-something years and three albums later, I’m still as excited about each new song that goes from Alicia’s head, onto her piano (aka Naked Franz), and some months/years later via the magic of Wachusett Records and our state-of-the-art recording facilities (ha!) eventually to CDs, iTunes, etc.

I hope you enjoy this new video we recently completed. I expect there will be plenty more where that came from.

Meet the new boss

Almost same as the old boss.

The path of least resistance would have been to replace my canoe-tragic camera with the identical model. But you know I’m not the sort of guy to take shortcuts. Instead I will struggle with the adoption of a new-fangled Canon 5D Mark III. It is my cross to bear.

The truth is I’m intrigued by this camera’s potential, with sufficient hacking, to support RAW video recording. I suppose if I’m willing to take my cameras canoeing, then I may be willing to install back-alley, warranty-voiding firmware, too. Some people find their courage in the form of running into burning houses, or standing up to the school bully. Mine comes in the form of being reckless with electronics.

And now, after this joyous announcement, let the universe proceed to unveil a Canon 5D Mark IV.

Coast to coast geocache tripping

I’ve taken the liberty of plotting a whole mess of geocaches onto our C2C map.  I don’t intend to make geocaching along the way a huge priority, but it could be a fun way to kill time while waiting for different subsets of hikers to regroup along the way.

Together Maurice and I have been experimenting with geocaching for over a decade now.  We used to be addicts, but we’ve recovered from those crazy days.  Now we’re just recreational geocachers.  (Come on… just one more!)

Learn about geocaching here.

Now Seth just needs to map out the best pubs along the route, and we’ll be ready to go!

T-minus 2 weeks!

Two weeks until the first day of our walk!

I finally did a weekend of test hikes to calibrate my pack load, first at Point Reyes with my friends Allie and Jeremy, then with Seth and Ealish in San Francisco. The results were promising, but not without some important lessons learned.

The plan for Point Reyes on Saturday was to simulate an average day of Coast to Coast hiking. We chose the longest loop described in the park’s brochure: Woodward Valley Loop (13mi). It starts out with a climb up Mt. Wittenberg (1407′), then gradually declines toward the ocean and remains largely flat after that, with a grand total of ~1900′ gain and return. It was absolutely gorgeous, perhaps good preparation so I’m not caught breathless in the Lakes District? At the end of the hike, our various devices were telling us we had gone 17mi that day. Between the optional summit loop, beach side trails, and extra laps around the parking lot we must have forgotten about(?), we earned some bonus miles somewhere. It felt like farther than an average Wainwright C2C day will take us, but we’ll see.

My pack, later labeled “ridiculous” by Seth, included:

  • 3L Camelbak bladder, full and only half depleted by end of hike
  • DSLR with battery grip, 3 zoom lenses, carbon fiber tripod, flash, extra batteries and storage cards, etc.
  • Traveller guitar w/ headphone amp
  • iPhone 6 Plus & iPad Air
  • Various resealable bags of snacks
  • Raincoat, maps, and random small stuff I didn’t bother removing from my pack.

And the verdict?  Carrying my camera in a front holster (aka toploader) pack not only made the camera immediately accessible for fleeting shots of wildlife, and so convenient I didn’t hesitate to take photos of every beautiful thing I saw, but also balanced my load so my backpack wasn’t dragging me backward as much.  I felt great for the first 10+ miles.  That’s when the wheels started coming off the bus.

Jeremy and Allie generously offered me some of their Saltstick electrolyte pills and Clif mocha shots.  It lifted my energy and my spirits and made me stop thinking about the blisters forming on the balls of my feet.  I was having no trouble breathing or carrying my load, it was really just my feet deteriorating underneath me.  Also, I was so desperate for some arch support I would try to land my foot on every rock and root just to get something pressing up under there.  I was walking gingerly the last couple miles, almost limping, but we made it to the end.  And Jeremy also shared his supply of alcohol wipes and blister band-aids. We completed the day with delicious beer and food consumption, all part of the training you know.  I really wish these two were coming with me to England.

So I survived simulated day 1.  But could I do it a 2nd day in a row?  After Seth’s mocking, I did lighten my load: I packed only 2 lenses instead of all 3.  So that saved me a solid pound, bringing my pack down to about 35 lb.  It’s extremely likely that if I carried nothing but snacks and water, I’d practically float effortlessly across the English countryside.  And maybe by day 2 of the actual hike, it will come to that.  But I truly intend to take a gazillion photos and learn a few new guitar chords so I have something to show for my 16 days on the trail beyond the 192 miles of blisters!

On Sunday, Seth, Ealish, and I urban hiked through Glen Canyon Park, up Mt. Davidson (928′, highest point in San Francisco), down and up to Twin Peaks (2nd and 3rd highest at 925′), and then back to Glen Park where again we practiced the beer and food phase of the simulation.  (I think we have that one down pat at least.) Still wearing the same band-aid from the day before, my feet were kind to humor me and carry me the 7-8 miles without further complaint. A solid night’s sleep after Pt. Reyes was enough to prepare me to do it all again, and I could have kept going farther on Sunday if necessary. The weekend of hiking left me confident, but also with a shopping list:

  • alcohol wipes and Band-Aid mole skins and flat-pack duct tape in case a blister is in a hard-to-secure location
  • Clif gel shots, both with and without caffeine, since I’m a recovering caffeine addict (clean since 2001!) and always avoiding relapse, but apparently the 50mg included in these shots enhances their effectiveness
  • fish jerky, which Allie introduced me to at Pt. Reyes to my delight
  • SaltStick electrolyte replacement capsules, which probably work better than gatoraid
  • my trademark trail snacks, Philippine brand dried mango and crunchy peanut butter Clif bars, with some dried coconut thrown in for good measure

I think I’m ready!

(Photo credit: Allie Larkin)

Here goes nothing!

20 minutes until we board our flight!

I drove up to New England from OBX yesterday, my second such road trip in a week.  Last week I drove up for the internment of my grandmother, who donated her body to the medical school when she died two years ago.  It was finally time to get closure with a ceremony, the best part of which is always spending time with my far-flung but lovely Nason-side family.  I also caught Bill Nighy’s broadway show, Skylight, on the way back with some of the NYC Nason contingent.  Awesome.  Gran, thanks for bringing us all together again.

The 12 hour drive yesterday passed by in a blink just like the previous two, thanks to audiobooks.  My friend Allie got me hooked on these, and while my eyes and reflexes are still on the road, my mind is off someplace else, and I arrive at my destination wishing I had another half hour of road to finish the book!  In this instance, it was Kicking and Dreaming: A Memoir by Ann and Nancy Wilson of Heart fame.  Also awesome.

My family in Massachusetts had dinner and a pre-birthday cake waiting for me, and a comfy bed, and I slept hard for a full 8 hours before waking up at 6am.  This, I predict, will happen every night of the hike.  But not tonight, which will be interrupted by a stop in sunny Iceland.  My driving on the wrong side of the road tomorrow can only be enhanced by a sleepless red-eye night.  Ma has no idea what adventure she’s really in for tomorrow!

Speaking of Ma, who’s about to board the flight with me, she described our activity today as “trying to squeeze 15lb. of s**t into a 5lb. bag.”  That basically sums it up, except scale it up to 100lb. of shit.  (Notice I’m only beeping out my mother’s swears.  I think it’s best to keep her saintly as long as possible on this trip!)  I brought way too much stuff, so I may be feasting on several pounds of fish jerky before Saturday morning just to get my pack liftable.  This should surprise no one who’s hiked with me before.

Tomorrow we’ll get as far as Laura’s house near Bath, and hopefully our fellow Pebbles are making similar progress toward St. Bees as we speak!  See you soon!!

Stonehenge!

Where a man’s a man and the children dance to the pipes of Pan  -Spinal Tap

I can’t sleep on red-eye flights, but was still feeling fine when we arrived in Reykjavik a while after sunrise.  Probably because it was only my usual bedtime EDT.  We boarded our London flight half an hour later.  That one I slept through fine thanks to the broad daylight, which makes me drowsy, combined with actually being tired.

Maybe being tired contributed to my humiliation at the Hertz Gold counter when, after I complained that my car seemed to be locked, the nice Hertz lady pointed out that I should try the driver’s side door on the right side of the car.  I was off to a smashing start driving to Bath.

When I mentioned to Ma how Felicity had been twice to Stonehenge and Harry once on previous drives to visit Laura and Nigel in Bath, her face lit up.  Turns out Ma hasn’t been to Europe since she was 19, and she was excited about the prospect of visiting this popular heritage site.  And so we did.  It’s strange to say a 4000+ year old monument changed a lot since my last visit 4 years ago, but it did.  (There’s a new car park and visitor center a shuttle’s ride away.)

Where most of the driving to Stonehenge was on major motorways, the drive to Bath was on small country roads.  Ma was oohing and ahhing at every old building in every little village we passed, and she didn’t stop the entire way.  We listened to old Air Supply tunes and just absorbed the new scenery around every turn, not to mention a few dozen roundabouts.

After a lovely visit including a walk near Solsbury Hill, sunset brews, a delicious vegetable lasagna, “pudding” with clotted cream, and Nigel’s fancy lattes, Laura and I talked each other’s ears off until after midnight, as we do.  Tomorrow Ma and I will join the rest of the Pebbles, and Laura will meet us circa Grosmont for the big finish!

You are bonkers!

Not a bad last day of being thirty-something.

Laura and Nigel fed us breakfast and sent us packing with a bag full of sandwiches and other goodies.  (Thanks for your endless hospitality, as I slowly fill up your guest register!)  Most of the drive north we had gorgeous blue skies and only a fleeting glimpse of Proper British Drizzle.  I introduced Ma to the music of Ingrid Serban & Forest Sun & Alisa Rose.  Given the nearly 300 miles from Bath to Carlisle, we even had time to discuss the oh so simple topic of religion and faith, where mutual respect and open minds allowed us to at least get a better understanding of our different perspectives.  We don’t waste time with idle conversation in this car!  No siree!

We reached Carlisle, filled the rental car (an Audi A4 Avant very reminiscent of my old A6), practiced a few right turns which always feel weird here, and then dropped the car at Hertz.  I think Ma’s had enough adventure already from my driving.  It’s an automatic, but it disengages the engine whenever we’re idle in traffic, and she thinks it’s stalling out every time.  So I suspect she was relieved to be a pedestrian once again.  (192 miles of it should fix that!)

We raced down the cobblestone street to the train station only to miss the penultimate train (carrying Moe and Eric we later learned) by only 5 minutes.  It was an hour’s wait for the last train of the day.  The countryside and especially the first views of the Irish Sea were stunning, and we determined via the map where we’ll be crossing those train tracks tomorrow.

When we arrived at St. Bees Station, Seth, Moe, and Eric were there to greet us at the platform and help with bags.  Stonehouse Farm is right next to the train station, but we spent only a minute in our room since dinner had already convened at Manor House, a short walk.  Fashionably late we were, but how nice to embrace our fellow Pebbles at last, all but Charles who will join at Kirkby Stephen, and of course Laura at Grosmont!

What decade of life would be complete without a polar bear swim in the (not technically) freezing Irish Sea, on a dare from one’s wife, Jessica, back home?  A local passerby walking his dog and wearing a winter coat saw our towels as we walked toward the beach and said, “Going swimming?  You are bonkers!”  Ma and Ealish documented, while Maurice, Eric, Tim and I disrobed to various extents, entered slowly, submerged, then exited post-haste.  Seth, fully clothed and dry, watched with amusement, “you idiots,” broadcast in all but words.  At least the relentless cold wind dried us off quickly!

The pebbles representing us Pebbles shall be selected in the morning, and begin their migration to the North Sea, first by way of Ennerdale Bridge.  Onward!

Breakfast of champions

Today I woke up old, and received this breakfast to commemorate the occasion.

The hike today really chewed us up and spat us out.  We set out from St. Bees at 9am this morning, collected our pebbles from the Irish Sea, and dragged ourselves across the Ennerdale Bridge finish line 15+mi later (plus thanks to deviations aka “Moe-cuts”) in small bloody clusters around 6:30 – 8pm.  It was gorgeous, worth the struggle, but hard work!  Only 15 more to go…

I’m left too tired for a full blog post.  Maybe that’s just the age?  But I will say that I was fueled today by the scores of birthday wishes.  Thank you!

Sucking bits through a straw

I’m sitting in a narrow hallway upstairs in a house that Wordsworth once owned, where a chair is set up next to the WiFi router.  It is surreal.  The wallpaper is exactly the floral pattern you’re imagining.  Hell, I’ll post a photo.  The data is trickling by.  I really wanted to watch the WWDC keynote!

This is how it’s been every night: sitting in just the right spot to even negotiate a connection to the world’s shittiest uplink, and then sharing it with every other person in the building.  A dedicated 9600 baud modem would be more responsive.  Welcome to the boonies of Northern England!  Not great for blogging.

Yesterday was a tough 15 mile slog up Haystacks and down through some slate quarries.  Tim and I waited at Honister Hause (which closed moments after we arrived) for 1.5 hours for the last hikers to persevere down from the old tramway, and we didn’t get to our lodging in Stonethwait until 9pm.  Luckily the others ordered dinner for us before the kitchen closed!

Today was much more reasonable.  3 rode the bus, leaving 8 Pebbles to go a mere 8 miles with similar elevation profile as yesterday.  We enjoyed the late morning (10am!) hike from Borrowdale to Grasmere, and arrived at 4pm.  This is more like it!  I finally had time to put my beard in the trash bin, but only after treating it to a last request (Cornwall’s Beard Oil, courtesy of Jenny Jen Jen).

Who knows whether I’ll get real broadband at any point which would permit sharing some real photos, or if I’ll get some “free time” from this sleep/eat/hike/eat schedule to make it happen.  But I’ll at least share one anecdote here.

We were parked on the side of the trail for a late morning break yesterday when one of the hikers, name withheld to protect the guilty, borrowed my portable shovel to “take a walk in the woods.”  This shovel, formerly known as Bertha, but renamed to Raoul the Trowel on this trip, has been hiking with me for years as a sort of insurance policy, but has never been used.  Yesterday it was to be finally christened.  Only the user returned with an unsullied Raoul, and a mortified facial expression.  “Mission accomplished, but I couldn’t find… it!”  Clothing was inspected carefully, but it will hopefully remain an unsolved mystery of Ennerdale Water.

Tomorrow we’re off to Patterdale.  My new aerodynamic profile should afford me a personal record on this trek.  Here’s hoping Patterdale’s Internet can follow suit!