Event Notice: Outdoor You, in Sussex Thursday Nov 19

I would like to invite you to Outdoor You in Sussex on Thursday November 19th at 7pm. It will be held at PALS which is upstairs in the Post Office Building in Downtown Sussex.

As many of you know all too well, November may be one of the gloomiest times of the year for the outdoor enthusiast. The days are short, frost hangs in the air, and rain can quickly turn to snow. But with the right skills, gear, and attitude you can come to enjoy whatever the November Winds throw at you! Plus, Winter's crisp snow and sunny days are just around the corner. Learn what it takes to enjoy the last weeks of Fall while gearing up for Winter Adventures.

This gathering on the 19th of November will bring together people who have a passion for self-propelled outdoors activities in our region. You can share your local trail knowledge, exchange gear tips, and find trip partners in your area. Plus it's an opportunity to learn from several experienced outdoor enthusiasts who will be on hand to share information and inspiration through animated presentations about getting outside in our region. These include presentations on GPS, Winter Sports Around Sussex, Clothing for Cold and Wet Weather, Safety, and more!

The evening is free and everyone is welcome - from folks just getting started to the experienced outdoor enthusiast. Bring the whole family and learn from other parents how to get outside with the young ones.

Hope to See you there!
graham waugh sussex outdoors adventure skiing snowshoeing winter sports fundy local motion

Thawing our Minds

Packing tonight for a weekend in Halifax has given me some time to slow down. At the start of this new month I thought I'd better give an update.

March was a busy month. Many late nights lead to groggy mornings as I worked to finish my Travel Journal. I accomplished my self imposed deadline of the first of Spring, getting a few copies out to family. It became apparent that my Travel Journal would need some minor edits so I've spent a few more late nights polishing it up. And today the first of spring I've got a dozen copies on hand and have shipped one to a friend in France.

For one of the first times in my life I'm crushed to see winter fade. The days of crisp air, sparkling sun, and blue ice are sadly over. This winter was very good to me. Thanks to my new Saint John friends I got in over 11 days of ice climbing this winter. The final day came on the second day of spring in Welsford. Under the spell of our eyes we watched the ice crash down. That afternoon rock season started. In our mountaineering boots we bumbled our way up some easy climbs. The cross country skiing this winter was excellent. Though I'm disheartened to announce that one of my old wood skis snapped. During an ice climbing adventure I got to try out alpine touring skiing and since then some research has lead me to an interest in Karhu XCD skis.

This winter taught me that the fun never has to stop. Winter adventures on skis or ice are perhaps more thrilling then what we can achieve in the warmer months. The world gets bigger every winter. Hollows and ridges are transformed into canyons and mountaintops. Tramping through a fresh powder snow on a sunner saturday morning I've breathed the freshest air of my life. And in the dead of winter there's nothing like standing in the sun watching steam rise from my bare hands. That's the beauty of moving. It's stokes your furnace. Getting outside and moving in the winter is the cure for winter blues.

From my observations, New Brunswickers give up 5 months of their year. Five months spent inside waiting for the spring to come. Just as much at the office as at the hardware store you'll hear grumbles like aftershocks of the most recent snow storm. Cold snaps are communicated by the stomping of feet on door mats. "You hear there's more snow coming on Thursday?" The neighbour replies "Jeez, not again. I tell you there's no use for that stuff."

That's 5 months that we slow down, cease up, and withdraw from the world. Our minds freeze. That accounts for almost half a lifetime! Anyone who exercise regularly knows that the mind slows down when the body slows down. So it leads me to wonder what 5 months of inactivity is doing to the minds of New Brunswickers? If we've collectively lost out on 5 months of the year what decade does that put us in as a society? It's not just New Brunswick. I'd assume that colder climates across North America suffer from this mental freeze as well.

The solution may involve getting red faced and sweaty. Aerobic activity is the cure. You need to keep the fresh oxygen circulating to your brain. Awaken those brain cells. Among the gammit of walking, jogging, snowshoeing, cross country skiing, skating, and stacking firewood there is always an activity for the conditions. Cross country skiing is my favorite. There's nothing quite like that smooth motion.

Imagine what a revival of winter could do to cold climate societies everywhere. Bodies energized, minds buzzing, we'll leave Half-Life behind. The society that captures this forgotten time will rocket ahead in happiness and prosperity... and will probably look pretty good in their fitted coats too!

You're probably thinking "ugh, now I have to wait til next winter." Not so! Mud Season is upon us! Put on some waterproof boots aka rubber boots and get hiking. It's an excellent time of year to catch excellent views through the leafless trees, hike in comfortable temperatures, and revel in a world free of blackflies. I've already gotten in two sunny, summer ish days of rock climbing.

Cross Country PowWowder

I headed home last weekend to get a dose of cross country skiing. Perfect powdery conditions gave me an opportunity to reflect on why I love cross country skiing.

Friday night while I was brushing my teeth before bed my mom suggested we take a moonlight ski. Under the bright full moon our shadows were crisp outlines on the sparkling snow. I had "diamonds on the soles of her shoes" playing in my head as we kicked up brilliant crystals of powder. We cruised in the rolling fields behind our house.

Saturday morning I experimented with my dad's old waxed skis. Though a little sloppy in the boot these skis have metal edges and a modern NNN binding. On the hilly fields behind our house I found the speed to cut a few turns. They were short shaky downhill runs, my turns were sloppy, but I couldn't stop smiling at the exhilarating speed I found.

Saturday afternoon, my mom and dad and I went out to Markhamville for a cross country ski party. The Pownings and McKegs maintain miles of trails through their big rolling hills. There were all levels of skiers there so we split among trails described as Easy, Intermediate, and Kamikaze.

The "Kamikaze" trail wound up to the top of the ridge through birch groves, skirted a deep ravine, cut sharp turns through spruce forest, crossed a hill top blueberry field, then finally charged its way down into the Markhamville Valley on a series of fast descents. The 6" of powder provided beautiful glide and was just the right weight to carve cross country skis into. I'll admit I was snowplowing down some of those tight runs.

From the Valley Bottom, rows of hardwood and spruce hills tapered off into the Fundy Highlands. Markhamville is the last settled farming valley before the Fundy Coast.

Climbing back out of the valley to dinner, Dave and I couldn't resist turning our skis around and pointing them down hill. Starting down the long hill I imagined broken bones and was glad that Dave, the ER doctor, was skiing behind me. Luckily the turns came at the top before I picked up more speed then I knew what to do with on three pin cross country skis!

After dinner we gathered together a posse for night skiing on some gentle trails. The moon exploded through gaps of racing clouds lightning. We could feel the wind blowing in warmer weather signaling the end of this week's powder.

Cross country skiing brings me so much happiness in winter. It's a way to escape cabin fever, explore new terrain, play like a kid again, and generate some well deserved heat in winter. It can be fast and wild or slow and gentle. Either way, the smooth rhythm of gliding skis always helps me breathe. My mind becomes calm and my thinking clear. The more I ski the better I feel.

Backyard Wilderness

Too much Cooking and Climbing not enough writing. This story is a little overdue. It took place on January 10th, 2009.

My mind was blown 4 times today.

First time: My friend calls me in the morning before he comes by to pick me up, "we're supposed to meet them at 8:30 so I’ll pick you up at a quarter after.”

“No way!” my head echoes “it’s only 15 minutes from downtown Saint John? That’s crazy. It’s so close.”

We drive out to a household of climbers, where we load packs, overheat, and talk excitedly. Next we’re out the backdoor crossing a prairie of white river ice. Straight across is Minister’s Face, a tiny cliff in the distance. We walk and talk over the crunchy snow. The sun is brighter than any summer day and air is still.

I keep spinning around to get a grasp on scale, we’ve been walking for 20 minutes and nothing seems to be getting closer or farther away. The white river stretches west into the horizons and east it is backed by dark pointy hills. Straight ahead, Minister’s face is now appropriately sized. We crank our necks back to see cobbly rock like a bookend for the river rising to where the cedars look like match sticks. From the opposite shore the Minister's 300 foot frame was squashed under the giant landscape. Our destination, the ice alcove, is now coming into view. What looked like a smear on the cliff is now a blue and white waterfall of ice, towering 120 feet high - and my mind is blown again.

The experienced ice climbers pick their lines and lead up the ice, attaching the rope to large metal screws they place as they go. Anchors and ropes are fixed at the top allowing newbies like me a chance to climb the routes on top-rope.

It's my second time ice climbing and I fumble uncomfortably with big hard boots and sharp bits attached to all fours. I get pointers, on how to stab my points into the ice. Thwack, shatter, thwack. "Flick your wrist more!" I hear from below, the pick sinks in on the third thwack.

I climb a couple routes, gaining confidence and starting to feeling comfortable on this foreign surface. Half way up the ice I set my feet pull out my pick and can feel my weight resting on two narrow crampon points extending from my toes. My mind fizzles and I huff out a surprised breath. It blows my mind that two little claws are holding my body weight. As I climb the rest of the route the warmth retreats from my hands that are clenched over my head while under my jacket I sweat like its a muggy day in July.

As I reach the top of the ice wall, I hear "Graham, turn around and have a look over the river when you get to the top." Focused on the ice I hadn't noticed dusk creeping in. The ice has turned rosy as I stand under the branches of a cedar tree getting ready to rappel down. When I finally turn around to face the wide river, I feel the fizzle at the base of my skull, a shot of endorphins triggered by what I see. A full moon as rich as a pumpkin rising over dark hills on the far shore.

We hike out in the low dusk light, aiming for familiar lights across the ice, watching one by one as the planets and stars appear.

And we're only 15 minutes from the city.

Hot White Ice

Hats off to the heat! After hiking across the crusty snow and biting wind of the Kennebecasis my circulatory system doesn't know how to handle this sudden heat wave. I reach the base of the ice wall and tear off layers until I hit my woolly long johns. Steam rises off my knees and arms. I get off easy this time, sweat that could have kept me cold all day is sucked up by the cold dry air and I'm left thinking how great it is to be warm on a cold January day.

We're here to ice climb in New Brunswick's backyard wilderness. Mount Misery, as it's called, is an ice climbing area that despite its proximity to Saint John, remained unused until last year. A young energetic climber exploring the shores of the Kennebecasis discovered it near his home last winter. It's an impressive find- two tiers of cliffs covered in steep white ice hold 20 some routes. And at its sheltered base in the forest I spend the day sucking up sun and smashing at ice with the regular crew of local climbers - stoked as always that they have so much ice to climb and find.

I Couldn't think of a place I'd rather be.

Laurent, Thanks for the Photographs!