This is a video I took on a backpacking trip in late spring. I put it on here because my soul is yearnin' to be there again. There's just something about Creation, when it's untainted by us as far as the eye can see. Yahweh really is the best painter...

Friends in unexpected places

When I'm out backpacking the most remote peak in the White Mountains, what do I expect to see?

I keep an eye out for bears, moose, beaver, crazy old people, birds, squirrels, maybe even a sasquatch if I'm really lucky. But I never expected to see this:

We were hiking right along the Bondcliff trail, when I noticed a couple of large, gray and white birds I couldn't identify.

"Hmmm..." I thought, "Those are cool, I wonder what they are."

Several minutes went by, and it seemed they were flying from tree to tree, keeping just ahead of us. Enough time had passed that I felt certain it was on purpose, and then I realized I had lost sight of one of them. A strange feeling crept over me, ya know, like someone or something watching... kinda like those weird cut scenes from Predator where the view is kinda Rhasta-alien vision.

I looked to my right, and there, uncomfortably close, was the Little Mister, and it began to feel like a mugging...

Fortunately, my traveling companion was swift of thought, and said, "Try to give him some trail mix, Kevin.".

So I reached into my bag, and held out my hand. He gave me one look with that bird-neck-twist thing, and flew right down and perched on my hand. For the next thirty minutes or so, the two birds (spouses, as I would come to find out in subsequent conversations), kept a frequent caravan from tree to hand.

The whole group got into the act. We used our hands, our heads, and I even put a cheerio in my mouth, and he landed on my beard and took off with his prize.

Wierd and unusual, I thought. That is, until I got home and did a little internet searching. Turns out they were Gray Jays. And our experience was nothing unusual. I guess they are just a personable bird in general, and humans is one of their normal food sources.

So if you're out hiking and you get that weird feeling, pop some peanuts (they don't like M&M's), and do it quick. Because I still see that face in my sleep and wonder what would have happened had I refused to share my lunch...

Why I love my wife- Reason #437

Times bein' what they are- tough, and me bein' what I am- a lowly carpenter, the little woman and I were talking about Christmas the other day. I was suggesting that we get one family gift, and keep the cost down because winter in New England can be scary for the self-employed tradesmen. At any given moment, I am not guaranteed to have something to next month, or even next week. Even when I do, weather plays a large part, so I plan on losing several days due weather each winter. Here's a paraphrase of the conversation:

Me: Let's keep Christmas simple this year, maybe get a family gift for everybody.

Wifey: And you don't have to get me anything...

Me: And I don't need anything.

Wifey: So don't get me anything either.

(Wifey thinks seriously, the clock ticks, tides ebb and flow, then says, matter-of-factly)


" We should at least get each other gaiters."

Me: *SMILE* Oh, I do so love you.

She is a multi-faceted diamond, of infinite beauty, and I am still noticing how she shimmers in new and exciting ways. One of the newest sparkles is that for her, if we trade no other gifts this Christmas, we simply must get each other gaiters, a waterproof, knee-high boot and shin wrap designed to keep out the water and snow while hiking.

She is unique above all others and I wouldn't trade her for 50,000,000, and I really mean that.

Mound of Mice- Part 2

Let me first answer some questions:

"And also, were they stuck together? As in, are they in a nice little conglomeration of death? Or are they isolated corpses? Also, were they found exactly as they are pictured, or was the evidence tampered with by suspect #1 (aka Kevin Jack Smith)?"

Stuck? I wouldn't call it stuck, but yes, a nice little conglomeration of death they were. They were found exactly as pictured, for in the picture they are exactly as found.

Further info:

There were 10 mice and 2 moles, all obviously very dead. Not tied together, but neatly stacked.

Time: App. 10 AM

Upon further inspection, we found that some, but not all noses were bloody.

Many of the subjects fur was damp, but it had not been raining.

All bodies were flexible and not yet rigor mortised or cold.

Feel free to click the picture to glean other facts not yet noticeed by the investigators. And we welcome any help you might give in solving this crime.

A Gateway to Camping

Behold my wife's last minute list for our camping trip this weekend. Normal food stuffs, mostly. However, the top item in the middle row looks a little suspicious to me...

I don't know how she's planning on using it, but I'm not eating any brownies just in case.

Half a' Pemi Loop '08

A vigorous young couple sets out on a journey of self-discovery and a weekend in the White Mountains. Little do they know that tragedy lay ahead. Obviously, just look at their faces, folks...At first, the way seems clear and the sun is shining. Birds chirp, branches sway, and the cares of life flow away with the water over the moss covered rocks. The trail is level and smooth, and their muscles twitch with anticipation of every step ahead.


But as in all stories, the trail doesn't stay smooth for very long... after an abrupt left turn, their way begins to lead up, up and up again. The ground is no longer friendly, but now large rocks dot the path, making it difficult to walk unhindered. Every step must be chosen correctly, for to turn an ankle would almost certainly end in cannibalism.Yet still, our intrepid travelers had high spirits, relishing every rise in elevation, anxious to behold the scenic view that would be payday for all their hard work. Difficulty defines their trip now, when each step rises more than it moves forward. The rocks are boulders now, large enough to climb, and a fall could mean broken bones, or even worse, embarrassment.


All this just fuels their desire to climb, their bodies yearning for tomorrow's soreness, the evidence of the epic struggle with nature today. Every cut and bruise, every pained breath quickens the senses and the mountain air drives them onward. Do you see the happy pain? Look closer... closer...

At last, after hours of climbing, they conquer Flume Mountain, its panorama a delight to the giggly children inside them. Still they know they must continue on, for one more crest and the steep descent to camp lie yet ahead.





Yes, even heroes need a break... for mashed potatoes and 14 hours of sleep are a magical combination.


The next morning, our travelers rise with the dawn and embark on day two, stiff but hopeful of what the day holds. From time to time, they arrive at crossroads, and must choose the right of the left. And it is not always the road less travelled that makes all the difference. Sometimes, there is just a good reason why it is less travelled...





At first, the trail climbs steadily, promising trials similar to yesterday. But then suddenly, the path evens out and the quiet smell of Christmas wafts through the air. Flat trail makes them want to run, and day two finds hiker and pack melded together to form an unstoppable traveling machine, ready to take on anything.

It is now that all their hard work begins to pay off. When the crest of Little Haystack is finally reached, they are an island in a sea of fog. Mystery shrouds the valley below, and even their own B.O. is lost in the smell of accomplishment.

When on top of a beautiful mountain with a beautiful woman, even the most insecure man forgets he is wearing spandex leggings and can pose without shame.



The Object of all their hard work and toil is now in their sight: Franconia Ridge, 1.8 miles of totally exposed ridge high above the surrounding wilderness. Strangely, it's an experience that makes a fellow wish he'd packed his kilt after all, for this of all places, would be the place to wear it.However small or large one's wife may be, it is nearly impossible to distinguish her from a rock when at the proper distance:

It is at this crucial point our story takes a fateful turn, for I remind you that this story is a tragedy after all...

because here the camera died.

Murder Mystery???

It's a question of Whodunnit, or for that matter, whattheheckdidtheydo? I will give a brief description and a few details, and then you finish the story, with as much explanation as possible. Over the course of the next week or so, I will periodically update with more facts, until the collectively we can take a vote and decide what fate befell these poor rodents.

#1- Approximately 6 miles into our backpacking trip, my wife and I looked down to see the above picture: a pile of dead mice right in the middle of the trail. What happened to them? How did they get there?