Women’s Hiking

Backpacking With The Dames

This is a cross post from Hemlock’s wonderful Blog….. for more of her writing, check outhttp://ramblinghemlock.blogspot.com/

Same trail, a week later

Winter wonderland.  Photo by S. Adams.

The story this week was how a group of Nine Warrior Women braved 14 miles of slippery trail as we hiked on the Appalachian Trail from Hogpen to Unicoi.  We faced a night of bone-chilling, finger-numbing, frigid temperatures (18 degrees!), and I will never forget how the Brave Dames on this trip came together as a team and had a total blast.

It’s hard to comprehend how the same trail that I scouted just one week ago could be so completely different than it was this weekend, magically transformed as it was by a layer of snow and ice.  At first, I was nervous because I’d never backpacked in the snow before, though I’d done plenty of hiking in worse conditions.  But my fears drifted away as we gazed in amazement at the trees cloaked in snow, breathing in the crisp air, listening to the crunch of frozen leaves underfoot.  Eventually, the sun broke through the fog and clouds, making the forest sparkle and ice shimmer against the deep blue sky.  I felt grateful to be out enjoying my first winter weather of the year, while nearly everyone else in Georgia was down in the valley having a regular fall day.

When we stopped at the Low Gap shelter for lunch, we listened to a group of young guys describe their miserable night in the snow.  I hoped that we wouldn’t look as wrenched as they did the following day.

We hiked on and the trail joined an old road.  Icicles were forming along the rocky outcrops.  As we descended in elevation, pockets of snow became more scarce.  Finally, we reached our campsite which was thankfully free of much snow, due to its sunny exposure.  Everyone pitched in to help with making camp, helping set up tents, gather firewood, and hang the rope to keep our food away from bears.  Still Waters had a fire blazing before the rest of us returned from fetching water.  We huddled around, telling stories and laughing, recalling the high and low points of the day.

                   Draped in my under-quilt, huddled around the campfire.  Photo by S. Adams.

We turned in for the night at 7:45, since we were all getting cold as the air temperature plumited.  At first I lay shivering in my hammock, wondering if I would freeze to death during the night.  Finally, I slipped my pack beneath my feet, and shifted the sleeping pad and underquilt around.   Miraculously, I warmed up enough to finally drift off to sleep.  Whenever I woke during the night, I heard a chorus of soft snores around me.  How could everyone else be sleeping so well?!  In the morning, we’d all discover that EVERYONE had this thought during the night– we must have all taken turns lying awake shivering and sleeping and snoring.

The trail the next day had some serious climbs, and was treacherous with icy leaves over slippery rocks.  We only took brief rest stops because we got too cold when we weren’t moving.  Last week, I’d sailed up these hills, but this time, they left me sore and tired just like they had on my first backpacking trip with the Dames a year and a half ago.   Funny how just when I think I’ve got everything figured out and am feeling strong and confident (as I was last week), the trail will continue to provide new challenges.

Things I learned:

– Who you’re with can make all the difference.  I am so grateful to all the Dames who continue to teach me the meaning of friendship, strength, perseverance, and bravery.

– I need to figure out how to keep my hands from freezing.  I’ve always struggled keeping my hands warm, and I loose all dexterity when my hands get cold and also I have a lot of trouble thinking coherently when I loose feeling in my fingers.  I’ve tried various gloves and handwarmers, which work OK during hiking, but my fingers freeze when I take off my gloves to do stuff around camp.  Maybe I need to develop a cold weather camp routine that doesn’t require the use of my fingers or thumbs.  Any suggestions on how to cook and get water without either getting my gloves drenched or having my fingers go numb?

– One of the first signs of hypothermia is mental confusion.  Next time we are standing around discussing how we are all having sluggish thoughts, take that as a sign to warm up!  Also, Still Waters kept telling me to take off my wet gloves and put my hands near the fire to thaw out, and I just stared at her blankly.  This was sort of like the tendency hypothermic people have to take off their warm clothes when they are freezing to death.

– My camera is NOT an item I should leave behind just to save pack weight.  What was I thinking!?!?

– Even at the lowest point of the trip when I was nearly in tears because I was so freezing cold, I still wanted to be on the trail more than anything else– I don’t want to be at home.  Even when I’m scared and uncomfortable, I still feel like I belong on the trail.

Caving with the Dames

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This is a guest post by our own Joan aka Hemlock– originally posted on her bloghttp://ramblinghemlock.blogspot.com/

This weekend I went on a caving trip with the Trail Dames.  We were fortunate to have several experienced guides and the Dames, as usual, were incredibly helpful and supportive.  Even though we went to a so-called “horizontal, easy” cave in northwest Georgia, it offered plenty of challenges for us nervous first-timers.

Caving was a fantastic experience, both for the physical challenge and because being within the earth proved utterly peaceful.  After getting the hang of it (thank goodness for the kneepads and helmet!), I enjoyed squeezing though the tight spots on my belly while pushing my pack in front of me, and rolling down the passageway, which turned out to be easier than crawling.  My arms, shoulders, core, and legs all received a satisfying workout.   I went through holes that I couldn’t believe I’d fit through and went down inclines that scared me, and felt such a sense of accomplishment after I realized I could do it!  Also, the cave was such a different, simplified environment– constant weather, fewer sounds, darkness.  Instead of being scary and claustrophobic, I found this environment enhanced and focused all my senses:  I could really smell the cave, listen to the sound of the drops from the ceiling, and see the glint of rocks.  I felt utterly alive and fully present.

A few times on the return trip, there was no one ahead of me and I tested my route-finding skills.  It took my brain a while to adjust to reading the cave.  Where was the easiest route?  Should I crouch, crawl, or roll?  Which way had I gone before?  Trying to remember the route, I visualized not just a two dimensional trail, but the series of interconnecting tubes that branched in three dimensions.  Using rocks and mud as landmarks was challenging for me because I am normally use plants and trees for navigation because for me they are so easy to remember.  I began to develop a better eye for subtle differences in rocks and formations, like how in winter, tree shapes and shades of brown become totally fascinating.   Mud in some places was dryer like clay for pottery and resisted pressure, while in other places it melted beneath your feet and stuck and slurped.  Caving was thus totally mentally engaging in addition to providing a full-body workout.

During rest breaks, our trip leader instructed us to lay down on the rocks and let our body heat radiate into the ground.  This had such a calming effect.  Much more so than just sitting down or standing during breaks.  The physical connection to the ground is so peaceful, and it reminds me to practice my yoga relaxation and breathing techniques.  I would love to take this practice back with me to the trail.  I normally stand during resting moments, but I think I will experiment with reclining against a tree or even laying down and being aware of my connection to the earth.

-Joan aka Hemlock

You Can Never Have Too Much Tango…Day 4 Continued

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Day 4 continued………

After driving back to Quito, we all go our separate ways to get ready for a big group Tango lesson    followed by a Milonga tonight. We still have plenty of time, so Njål and I head down to the  Indian Market in the Mariscal area to buy some souvenirs. We get out of the cab and I look    up at the giant black clouds that have rolled across the sky. ¨You know¨, I said, ¨this might be a great time to go have a coffee and let this storm pass before we wander  through     the open air market!¨ He agrees and we head for the Hilton Hotel that happens to be there  on the corner. We settle into a much-too-nice restaurant next to a window and order coffee as the rain starts to pour and lightning begins to flash across the sky. Talk about    good timing!!! We talk and laugh and exchange stories about violin making. The conversation   goes from serious to hysterical and back again, neither of us bothered by the fact that this is probably the worst coffee either of us have ever had. J By the time the coffee pot     is empty and the rain has stopped, it is time for Njål to head to his private Tango lesson.   The shopping will have to wait for another day.
I head home to get things organized and within the hour am in another cab headed      for Cafe Libro. This is a beautiful, small restaurant with a dance floor that hosts all  kind of events, including visiting famous Tango teachers. When I get there, class is about     to begin and the floor is covered with dancers. I chicken out of the lesson, knowing that Njål will teach me later, and settle back to watch. Our group of friends has bunch   of small tables and chairs on the side of the dance floor and I am joined by different   people that I met the first evening I was in town. I later told Njål that it was like being part of the     ‘cool crowd’ in high school!
As the lesson turns into the Milonga itself, I talk to different people, sipping hot      red wine, ( vino caliente) out of a mug with a sugared rim. The energy in the place is electric, but grounded and comfortable as more and more people stream in.     There is a group of very stern, frowning women in their 60´s gathered around a table  across the dance floor and I have fun watching them make a considerable dent    in a bottle of rum. I watch all evening and only once did I see one of them smile. 🙂
At times, I find myself sandwiched closely between new Tango friends, all of whom  treat me like I have been there forever. I am having a good time, but all of the sudden,      the Tango music stops and Salsa music starts blaring through the speakers. I do believe     that the Milonga is finished!!! The other women at the table jump up and start    dancing like crazy, motioning that I should join them. Again, when in Rome, right?!

I dance away while the die-hard Tango people slip out quietly. Noticing Njål standing on the side quietly, I went to ask him if he was ready to go home. Tiredly, he says ‘yes’.    Unfortunately, though, the DJ picked that very moment to play “I Will Survive”!     I begged and cajoled and Njål reluctantly followed me out onto the dance floor.  I enjoyed myself to pieces for the next few songs which consisted of American greats,     such as “YMCA” and “Thriller”. Njål was a great sport and kept me company on the dance     floor til I ran out of energy. It is close to 2 am and it is time to go home.   Tomorrow is my last day of playing tourist and Njål and I have been invited to visit a music    festival outside of Quito. I figure I should save some energy for that……. J

Buenas Noches…………

Anna

The Middle of All things- Day 4


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Day 4…………

So, my brother and I have a game….it goes something like this.
He says, ¨I have canoed the boundary waters of Michigan!!¨

I say, ¨Yes, but I have sat on the hillside of a Masai village talking to warriors!!”
He says, ¨Yes, but I have bicycled across the South of France…twice!!”
at which point I say, ¨Yes, but I have ridden a sled across a frozen lake at midnight under the Northern Lights in the Arctic Circle!¨.

It is a totally obnoxious, self indulgent game, but we enjoy it.  However, today I am thinking that, I win!!! Today, I will Tango on the Equator!! 🙂 🙂 🙂
(I know, I know…how obnoxious can I be!?!?!) 🙂
Njål and I have been invited to join our new Tango friends, John, Cathy and David, to go to La Mitad del Mundo. It means, the middle of the Earth and the equator literally runs straight through this little town giving everyone a chance to dance, stand and kiss on the equator itself. David used to work as a tour guide at the museum that straddles the line, so he has agreed to take us all there and show us the sights. Njål and I meet David at his apartment this morning and we take a bus to the main terminal, where we transfer to the bus that travels the half hour to La Mital Del Mundo. The entire trip costs 40 cents, and it passes quickly in conversation. David is the nicest guy!! Of course, like everyone here, he is very handsome. 🙂 And he does dance a mean Tango!! 🙂 But he is also kind and accommodating and is constantly making sure that I know what everyone is saying and doing. He lived in Chicago for three years and his English is perfect. I don’t mind everyone speaking Spanish around me….I figure if it is something that I really need to know, Njål will fill me in. But I am truly touched by his kindness.

When we get there, we are joined by John and Cathy. John is the visiting Tango teacher and once again greets me with a warm smile and a hug and a kiss. I still find him a bit intimidating because he is just so amazing!!! But he is so friendly and down to earth that I find myself relaxed and laughing with him. Cathy is a stunningly beautiful woman that, really, if she weren’t so darn cool, I would have to hate!! 🙂 She also Tango’s like a beast and looks like a model, but is, too, very smart and down to earth. It turns out that she is studying medicine in college and is going to become a psychologist. Everyone is talking like they have known each other forever and even I am laughing and understanding everything that is going on. The sun has come out and the sky is a brilliant blue. The museum is actually a series of outdoor displays that weave through huge cacti and blossoming flowers. The colors are riotous and every few steps there is a different smell.
We join a tour in Spanish, because I am the only person there that doesn’t speak it and as we wind our way around, David whispers in my ear, telling me all about the displays. Since this was his actual job for several years, he knows everything and is a fantastic guide. A lot of this is about the different Ecuadorian tribes, including those of the Amazon. We see actual shrunken heads, (yuck) and gigantic spiders and snakes. We learn about the tribe that, when the chief dies, they bury the chiefs’ wife and children with him. Alive. All I am saying is that that is a good reason to never marry the chief!!

The best part of the tour comes when we get to the actual equator. I just thought it was cool place, but the weirdest, strangest things happen here!!! They have all kinds of neat experiments that they show you that demonstrate just how powerful it is to be at 0 degrees latitude. For instance, they have a sink of water that when you set it on the line and let the stopper out, it does not circle around the drain….it falls straight out. But when you move it three feet off of the equator, in either direction, the water swirls down. On one side it swirls clock wise, and on the other, counter clock wise! This is all within three feet!! AND, if you close your thumb and forefinger together, and have someone test your strength by trying to pry them apart, you will find that you are much weaker standing on the actual equator!! I am not making this up!!
The best part, though, is that it is darn near impossible to close your eyes and walk a straight line down the equator. You will be pulled to one side or another. This got really funny when the dancers got involved!!! John grinned and lined his feet up on the equator, closing his eyes. He took three steps forward and fell off to one side! With an exasperated sound he tried again, and again!. We were all laughing hysterically!! When all way said and done, I looked at Njål and said, ¨Will you Tango on the equator with me?¨ With a smile, he said, Of course!¨ I now have a video of me tangoing on the equator and then, of course, doing the Dance of the Real Woman. It is not quite the same without the hiking poles, but my heart was totally in it all the same!! 🙂 And the best part is that when you see me almost fall over tangoing on the video, I can totally blame it on that whole ´no balance on the equator´ thing!!!

As we finished up our equator fun, it started to rain and we all make a dash for Cathy’s car. The next thing I know, five of us are crammed into her 1974 Volkswagen Beetle and we are weaving down the road, laughing and teasing each other. The next stop is lunch and David knows a wonderful place with great food. Cathy introduces me to Chicha, a fermented corn drink that is fantastic!! (For my friends in the know, this is NOT the one that is chewed up my men and then spit into a bucket to age!!) We all sit around enjoying lunch and everyone is talking and laughing in Spanish. I do not feel left out in the slightest. I pick up every third or fourth words and let the rest of them fall around me like music. All I know at this point is that I am sitting in a cafe in the countryside of Ecuador with new friends, drinking Chicha and laughing.
I am so glad that I said yes when Njål asked if I wanted to go Tango….
(to be continued…..)

Anna aka Mud Butt

Oh….my………….

 

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Day 3……….
This morning, I got up early and went to the school with Njål. Eudoxia, the woman in charge of the office, has arranged for a friend of hers to take me on a private tour of Quito. Omar shows up and is a handsome young man who is nice, nice, nice. He immediately starts chatting with me and regardless of his own ability to speak a little English, insists that I speak in only Spanish. This makes me laugh and laugh because no matter how often, how loudly, or how slowly he says, ¨dónde están usted de?¨I still have absolutely NO idea what he is saying! Turns out he is asking where I am from. 🙂
For fifteen minutes we wind our way through the streets of Quito and he peppers me with friendly questions…..in Spanish, of course. I am just starting to realize that this might make for a very long tour when, BAM! We are rear ended by a young man driving an SUV. No worries….we are totally fine!!! But, unfortunately, the cars are not. I get out of the car and step onto the sidewalk, leaning against the wall. I listen for ten minutes while the young man apologizes profusely and Omar looks sadly at the crumpled rear of his car. It doesn’t look like there will be a tour today. 🙁 I feel so badly for Omar….I know he needs his car to make a living and he looks so dejected..

As I lean against the wall, I look up and read the street sign. Mariscal Ave.

Great.

All of the books I have read have said that Mariscal has some of the more, shall we say, unseemly areas of Quito and that it is not all that safe. I look at Omar and tell him that I am going to get a cab back to the school and that I am so sorry for him. He nods sadly and throws out his arm. In matter of 2 seconds a taxi has slid to a stop in front of me and I am on my way back to the school. So, what to do in a situation like this? Call my new friend Patricio!! Within another 15 minutes, I am safely ensconced in his cab, headed for the Cathedral. I am so excited about this cathedral!! Here they call it the Basilica, and it is not even the most famous church in town, but it is huge and gorgeous and I crane my neck out of the window to get a glimpse of it as we maneuver through the curvy, narrow stone streets.
The thing about cathedrals is that, they don’t ever seem to match their surroundings. We are in the midst of cobblestone roads and buildings of pastel colors stretching, literally, as far as you can see. And towering above it all is this immense, dark grey stone structure that truly reaches for the heavens. You see it peeking up and through the neighborhoods, or ´barrios´ as they are known here but it is not until you actually pull up to it that you can see how incredible it really is. Now, someone told me that this is actually neo Gothic, but it looks exactly like every Gothic cathedral I have ever been in. Except….all of the gargoyles are animals!! They have tortoises, alligators, and even armadillos sticking out of the side of the building! It is cool!!
I climb the steps to enter the cathedral and an elderly nun comes out and starts talking away to me. She chatters and chatters! I offer her my hand and help her down the steep steps, all the while she is talking animatedly the entire time!! When we get to the bottom she nods and smiles, saying ´Gracias¨ and gets into a cab. I guess I will never know what she was actually saying to me!! 🙂
I enjoy the Cathedral and luckily enough, they allow photos without flash, so I click away. I understand that you can climb 300 steps and a series of ladders to the very top of the cathedral, but the altitude is still playing havoc with my lungs, so I decide to leave that for another time. Afterwards, I sit and enjoy a coffee while watching the people come and go from the church. This really is my favorite part!!

I finally abandoned my ´cafe with a view´ and make my way back to the very patient Patricio. It is time to go see the church that Quito is most famous for. I am really not sure how it can compare with what I have just enjoyed, but I am happy to go see what all of the fuss is about. We make our way through the heart of the Colonial downtown of Quito and I crick my neck trying to see everything!! The traffic is terrible, but we finally make our way to a parking space and as I get out, I look up to see that Patricio is also getting out. He motions that he will walk with me.

Oh this is SO not what I had in mind!!

Don’t get me wrong….he is very, very nice! But I want to enjoy the heart of Quito for a few hours alone, not feeling like I have a body guard!! I momentarily contemplate giving him the slip, but of course, I would never do that. It was a fun idea, though! We weave our way through the crowds of people….almost all locals. There are not many tourists around, as far as I can tell. Old men are sitting on benches feeding pigeons, children are chasing each other in circles and women are weaving through it all selling bags of fruit that I do not recognize. It is a pretty cool scene.
We make our way up to a church that looks…well, nice and all that, but….no big deal. Patricio waits outside while I pay my 2 dollars and walk through the door.

Oh………my………………goodness…………..

This church is called La Companea. And the inside is plated in over 7 tons of gold. Did you hear that?!?!?!? That would be 14,000 pounds of gold. Imagine every single surface covered with the most ornate patterns imaginable…all gold. I am so sorry because there are no words that I can say that can really make you see what this looks like! It is known as the most beautiful church in all of Latin America and I have to say, I cannot imagine anything on earth being more spectacular than this. Of course, here they do not allow photos, but later I will put some images up on the blog so that you can all enjoy it. All I can say is that I am terribly glad that I came to see it.
Afterwards, we walked down to another church, this one less ornate, but gorgeous in it’s own right. It had beautiful paintings washed over the stone walls and looked old and revered. It was a great church to follow the opulence of La Campanea. Quito has 87 churches and the city is really famous because of that. I wish that I had time to see them all. There is something about old churches that truly moves me. It is not the religion….that is fine, but does not move my soul the way the buildings themselves do. I am just so profoundly touched by the centuries of work and honor that go into each of them. It is something really special.

The day is getting on and I still need to buy shoes, (Njål has insisted that I have tango shoes) 🙂 go to the bank and grab a quick bite before the Tango lesson tonight. This one is for the pros, and I will just be watching. But I am really honored to be included.
After running all of my errands and saying goodbye to Patricio, Njål and I head across town to the University. We walk into a recital hall and I settle onto the floor to watch. Several of the dancers from last night run over and hug and kiss me, while John, the teacher waves and grins at me. These people sure know how to make a girl from Georgia feel welcome and included!!!
The lesson was really fun to watch and I enjoyed chatting with one of the dancers while she waited to join in. When all way said and done, they all decided to go to another Milonga (dance) and invited me to join in. It is after ten o’clock and first they are going to someones home for a private lesson and then to a restaurant for hours of Tango. I know that you will all be terribly disappointed, but I was completely exhausted! Did I mention that our new Tango friends had invited us to go out of town tomorrow sight seeing? I have to get some sleep!!! So, with kisses all around, I made my good-byes and grabbed a taxi back to the house. Another day is done………….