Holidays

The snow hit Southern New Brunswick after Christmas like an egg-nog hangover. And I've been having a blast everyday since it fell. The cross country skiing has been great and I've done some snowshoeing unfortunately the ice climbing has suffered from the warm temperatures. As the temperatures have risen in the past few days I even tried to go bouldering!

Great snow for snowman making.

Wet snow fell on Monday so my family suited up and built a snowman in the fresh snow.

The Amphitheatre at Parlee Brook - looking scrappy.

On Tuesday I ventured in to check out the ice climbing conditions at Parlee Brook's amphitheatre. The snow was suuuuper deep in the bottom of the ravine. We swam and struggled in snow up to our armpits for over an hour trying to reach the back wall. Fun but exhausting. The ice wasn't worth climbing. We'll need it to be a lot colder.

Cutting a trail through deep snow.

New Years Eve was warm and sunny - a perfect day for being outside.

My Dad skiing behind our house on New Year's Eve. 

I snowshoed into Parlee Brook again, tempted by potential ice. We were able to top-rope a route with some nice vertical ice bits. I got back to Sussex after dark and wanted to meet my goal of three sports in a day. So I drove out to the Dutch Valley towards Waterford with the hourglass hill in mind. I couldn't see it from the road in the dark, so I followed a skidoo trail hoping it would lead me there - it did. After 45 minutes of climbing, I turned my skis back towards the lights of Sussex and practiced my turns on a long downhill run.

Top-roping a bits and pieces of a route at Parlee's amphitheatre.

The New Year began sunny and warm. It was great weather for my first Polar Bear Dip. It wasn't nearly as cold as I thought it would be - just a few cuts from a the ice in the river.

I had planned to cross country ski on New Years Day but we thought it may be too warm (turned out to be great skiing - just like spring conditions). Instead we went to check out some newly found granite boulders west of Saint John. We drove in on snowy roads and found snowy boulders but I still enjoyed hiking around to look at the boulders. Still a great day for hiking!

Legitimate granite boulders in New Brunswick!

On Sunday I got out for a short cross country ski at my parents house in Corn Hill. The snow was melting and it even sprinkled a few rain drops by the conditions were actually quite good. Fresh snow around the melting point can be a sticky mess but older snow that has warmed and froze and started to melt again is great - just a bit slow. I'd call these spring conditions.

XC skiing in Corn Hill 

XC skiing on my parent's trails.

graham waugh new brunswick skiing cross country xc skiing snowshoe ice climbing parlee brook corn hill sussex moncton outdoors saint john skiing

One of those experiences

that leaves you stoned and stirring.

Waking up on top of a river, I feel that omen. Damn I have to piss. Zzzzip, tent door opens, my face feels the cold air and my eyes squint in the brightness. Starlight, a relic, that dreamy notion, is alive and well tonight. A traffic jam of diamonds crunch underfoot and jostle overhead. Back in the tent I can hear the stream burble three feet beneath my pillow.

Cold, wet, hard. Three things that could easily describe winter camping. But not this weekend. Sunny skies, fresh-air that hung on every breath and dried my clothes overnight. How about breakfast in bed? So why did we get so lucky this weekend? It was the first time for all four of us - winter camping and being to this place. We had heard the stories. The claims about this canyon. Fuzzy photos and poor maps. Not far from town yet a trek to get here; logging roads, skis, sleds, snow up to our hips. Nothing really prepared us for the scale and depth of this place. We swore and laughed at the snow bridges, cliffs, and 200 hundred year old spruce.

Everything lined up so perfectly. Two days of river walking headlamp hiking. Do you suppose that some of those stars lined up for us? We left the wilderness this evening, humbled and thinking. One question that rose above the coffee-fueled high on the drive home is "What did we do to deserve this?" Maybe we started by being stoked like a fire. And just believing there's always more to explore when you play outside.

Stoke your fire. Go explore with friends. Remember that photographs and descriptions only show about 1%. You've got to discover the rest.



p.s. This is all you get. The two white dots in lower center of the photo are headlamps as we hike back to camp through the slot canyon.

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!