Bouleau.
This is the French word for birch.
Stories from the International Appalachian Trail
Bouleau.
This is the French word for birch.
Yeeeesh. Slow going here, kids. At least it’s pretty. Look at it. These pictures were brought to you with much losing the trail, slogging through deep wet snow, being rained on, pack frame breaking, inflatable pad deflating forever, holes generating in…
Here’s a short, sweet, lacking-in-some-ways-but-we-won’t-ever-tell-Sail-that-because-she-might-cry-or-something northbound IAT NB trail guide.
Fine, alright. Here’s what Mt. Carleton looked like the next morning:
Hey, hooligans.
First please, we should establish that probably the only reason I like winter hiking is because I forget how cold it is during the winter. Second, I forget because I am dumb. Third…
[trail writings, recorded in my science logs sometime in November?? 2017, from a cliff in northern Virginia]
Guys…
I know it’s smart to not be up north right now.
1. It is warm down here.
2. I get to see family.
3. Friends, huzzah! Errybody loves a good friendship.
Maybe if I wasn’t so busy reading and sleeping, and eating things, I’d edit these and pretend to be a photographer human. Alas. Here’s a few more photos from November and October:
Hooligans.
Happy Christmas, Hanukkah, winter solstice, happy new year to all your faces. The days are getting longer again.
In which we finish much science, then saunter over into good Canadia for a while, yissss