Frame, filler, binding and cleats, the four major components of a modern snowshoe. (Tim Jones photo)

There are lots of modern snowshoes on the market these days and the variety can be confusing—especially since most look a lot alike. Different shoes with different features are better for different jobs, and picking the right ones for you and your needs can be challenging.

By the way, we are only dealing here with “modern” snowshoes. There are some older designs out there that still work, and if you already own them and like them, go out and have a ball. Wooden snowshoes, for example, are lovely to look at, and still float you on top of the snow. But like wooden boats, they are mostly used by traditionalists who appreciate the aesthetics and craftsmanship inherent in working with wood. This story is for people who are buying their first snowshoes or looking to upgrade older models to something with, perhaps, more performance and practicality. And we are going to focus entirely on snowshoes for the east, where we have more hills than mountains and snow that can range from boilerplate blue ice to deep soft fluff–often on the same trail on the same day.

The way to begin sorting out snowshoes is to imagine what, specifically you are going to do on them and, to some extent, where you are going to do it. As we see it, there are two general categories of snowshoes; there’s no official name for them, but, for lack of better terms, let’s call them racing/running, and backcountry/general use.

Little bitty snowshoes that don’t flop around are a real advantage when running on packed trails, not so good in deep, untracked snow. (Tim Jones photo)

Racing/running snowshoes are designed primarily for aerobic workouts and are almost always better used on packed or heavily crusted snow. Backcountry/general use snowshoes will go anywhere; they are the ATVs of the winter world. Real backcountry shoes are designed primarily for use in untracked snow and a variety of conditions, including wearing a backpack and dealing with steep slopes and sidehills. Not surprisingly, shoes that work well for racing/running tend to be awful for backcountry and vice versa. If you want to go running on snowshoes for exercise in winter, and you also want to put on a pack and go exploring the untracked, you are going to need two pairs of snowshoes.

You’ll very often see a category of snowshoes labeled “recreational.” This is a catch-all title for “value priced” snowshoes that don’t have all the features of top-of-the-line snowshoes. But the truth is there are “recreational” snowshoes that are better for running/racing and others that are better for backcountry/general use. You just need to recognize the differences.

Where things get confusing is that manufacturers often aren’t clear about what a snowshoe is best for. Their job is to get you to buy their snowshoes, so of course they make the ones that are best for everything, right? In our experience, even the salespeople at outdoor shops (and, apparently, some journalists who write about snowshoeing) are sometimes fuzzy about the finer points of snowshoes. So your best strategy is to learn all you can, ask lots of questions, and try as many snowshoes as you can before you buy. The more you know about yourself, what you want to do and what works for you, the more likely you are to find the right snowshoes for you on the first try.

A full rotating toe cord lets the heel of the snowshoe drop freely to shed snow from the deck--very useful in deep snow. (Tim Jones photo)

The first key to categorizing snowshoes is in how the binding (the part that holds your boot) is attached to the deck (the platform that keeps you from sinking into the snow). Here’s how you tell in an instant if a snowshoe is going to be better for running/racing or backcountry/general snowshoeing: simply pick up the snowshoe by the binding. If the tail of the snowshoe immediately drops without resistance (imagine the tail of the shoe staying on the snow as you pick up your foot), that’s a backcountry/general use snowshoe. If the tail of the snowshoe wants to lift along with the binding, that is the hallmark of a snowshoe that’s better for running/racing and use on packed snow. We’ll explain these distinctions more clearly in a moment.

The other key characteristic is the size of the deck. Basically, a larger snowshoe provides more flotation but weighs more. Racing/running snowshoes are usually as small and lightweight as possible. Remember, they are generally used on packed trails, so flotation isn’t as important. While some “general purpose” snowshoes are quite small (for smaller, lighter people who don’t carry a heavy pack and don’t break trail in deep snow), most “backcountry” snowshoes are larger to provide more flotation.

You’ll notice we haven’t talked at all yet about materials. Frankly, we’ve tried great snowshoes with aluminum frames and synthetic decking, and great snowshoes molded of composites or plastic. That’s a matter of preference. Then there are details like ease of binding use, amount and placement of traction, extras like heel lifts. All those are decisions you’ll have to deal with eventually before you  plunk down your hard-earned cash. But the key to finding the right snowshoe is starting in the right general category for what you want to do.

A "tight" or "fixed" toe cord lifts the tail to the shoe when the boot is lifted. This keeps the snowshoe from flopping forward when running but can also flip snow up onto the wearer. Some toe cords are tighter than others; these are about mid-range, (David Shedd photo)

The Toe Cord Conundrum

The point of attachment between the binding and the deck on a snowshoe is technically called the “toe cord. ” The term is a  holdover from the days when snowshoes were made of wood and rawhide and the feet were held to the shoe by, well, cord. As noted above most modern snowshoes for adults come either with “rotating” or “pivoting”  toe cords (also called “axles” by some manufacturers), which allow the snowshoe deck to pivot freely and the tail of the snowshoe to stay on the snow while you lift the toe, or “tight” (sometimes called “fixed”) toe cords which hold the deck more firmly so the tail drops only a little, if at all, when you pick up the shoe.

Tight/fixed toe cords work best on hardpacked snow and are especially popular with snowshoe racers/runners because the tails can’t flop forward as you run (which can easily trip you up). But they have three huge disadvantages for general use in a variety of conditions. First, you must always pick up the weight of the entire snowshoe and any snow that’s on it with each step. That can get tiring quickly, especially in deep, heavy, wet snow. Second, tight toe cords have a nasty tendency to flip snow up with each step onto the user’s legs and back (and even down the back of your neck). Nice for keeping you cool in a race, not so good for staying dry and comfortable on a long wilderness trek in untracked snow. One of the major snowshoe companies calls their tight toecord a “live action hinge.” One of our testers who has tried these particular snowshoes calls them “wicked flippahs.” And third, in deep snow a tight toe cord tends to make it more likely that the tip of the snowshoe will get caught as you step forward (particularly under a crust), which can make YOU the “wicked flippah”!

The tails of these larger snowshoes stay on the snow when you lift the tip to take a step. That lets any snow on them slide off. They work well on crust as shown here but even better in untracked snow. (Tim Jones photo)

By contrast, rotating toe cords allow the tail of the snow to drop so snow slides off with each step, which also causes the tip to easily lift up and over the snow, reducing faceplants. You never pick up the full weight of the shoe–the tail slides along on the snow. This is a real advantage with the larger, longer shoes typically used for backcountry travel in untracked snow. Shoes that pivot freely are a bit harder to maneuver (there’s no “reverse” ) but they are a far better choice for backcountry use and general snowshoeing.

Our Executive Editor  Tim Jones writes a syndicated newspaper  column called Active Outdoors.  A couple of years ago, Tim received an email from a reader complaining that, every time he tried to use his snowshoes, they banged his shins. He asked what he was doing wrong. The answer, of course, was that he was using the wrong snowshoes for what he wanted to do. Further questioning established that this reader was using snowshoes to run for winter exercise. He also happened to be very tall (6-feet 4 inches). Every time he took a long running stride,  the tail of the snowshoe swung forward and the toe of the shoe banged him in the shin. His snowshoes obviously had a full rotating toe cord and were, simply, the wrong snowshoe for what he wanted to do.

On the other end of the scale, Kate Goodin, one of our ace gear testers, and the lead writer for our forthcoming Kids’ Snowshoe Review tells us: “My first pair of snowshoes were awful. I tolerated them for two years because I loved snowshoeing and didn’t know there were options. They had VERY tight toe cords with just enough swing to give a real catapult effect. They flung snow between my legs, up my back, onto the back of my head and, often, down the back of my jacket as it came back to earth from on high. After every snowshoe outing, my thighs were red, raw, and frozen. It was not pleasant in the least. Discovering snowshoes with full rotating toe cords was like discovering you could buy a car with a roof to keep the snow off.”

Needless to say, the EasternSlopes.com editorial staff  strongly recommends a freely pivoting, “rotating” toe cord for the highly variable snow conditions we encounter in the east. It’s simply a better all-purpose design. If you are going to run a lot on your snowshoes, stick mainly to packed trails and don’t mind getting pelted with snow with each step, choose “tight” toe cords. And if you want to do a lot running and occasional backcountry use, well, not all “tight” toe cords are created equal. Some are tighter than others, flip more snow than others.

The one exception to that rule is if you do most of your hiking in thick softwoods, where you’re likely to have to clamber over a lot of  blowdowns.  This is the one time that a tighter toe cord can be a help; it makes it easier to get the snowshoe over a downed tree, and the snow is often not as deep in those areas.  Think carefully before you decide that you fit this category, though; if you hike a ways through fields or open hardwoods to get to those areas, you’ll be so tired before you get to the woods that you won’t be able to get over the downed trees anyway!

In his photo, you can actually see the snow sliding off the deck of this snowshoe as the boot is lifted and the tail stays on the snow. That's one huge advantage of a full rotating toe cord.(Tim Jones photo)

Size Matters

Every snowshoe manufacturer and even some retailers offer charts to help you pick the right size snowshoe for you.  They are always based on weight, which is absolutely correct. The more you weigh, the more flotation you need. And bigger snowshoes mean more surface area and more flotation.

For running on packed trails, the rule of thumb is simple: choose the smallest shoe you can possibly get away with. Smaller shoes are lighter and less cumbersome, will let you travel faster and farther in ideal conditions. General use is another matter entirely.

In our not-so-humble opinion, most size charts for picking snowshoes err on the small side for general use. Yes, smaller snowshoes offer a weight advantage, and a snowshoe that’s too big for the user can make for an awkward stride and uncomfortable walking. But it appears to us that most snowshoe size charts are generally biased toward packed trails. That is, after all, where most folks apparently go snowshoeing.

However, untracked snow and a backpack full of winter gear demand larger snowshoes. We strongly  feel that, no matter how small you are, if you ever intend to step into untracked snow, especially wearing a backpack, you shouldn’t even consider a 21-inch shoe (often sold as “women’s” models).  Most women will do better with a 25-inch shoe for all around use, most men with a 30-inch. If you are a larger person or carrying a heavy pack regularly, or hike in an area that often has deep, light snow, you may need to consider larger still.

In other words, we generally recommend putting yourself on the low to middle end of the size chart. If you are shading toward the upper end of the recommended weight, go a size larger. That will give you the flexibility to carry a pack and deal with deep, untracked snow. Modern snowshoes aren’t all that heavy, so the weight penalty for going up a size isn’t all that bad, anyway.

Snowshoes come in all sizes, shapes and colors, finding the right ones for you takes some thought--but the results are all fun. (Tim Jones photo)

One thing to watch out for when upsizing snowshoes is width. Too wide a shoe can make walking with a natural gait difficult (like  the traditional “bearpaws”, which had you walking like a cowboy after a long day on a barrel-shaped horse). Some snowshoes are shaped to “nest” as one is moved forward of the other. We strongly recommend trying these on snow before you buy to make sure the shape of the shoe works with your natural stride.

Other Considerations

Beyond toe cords and overall size, there are some other considerations that make a specific pair of snowshoes right—or wrong—for you.

One of the biggest factors we encounter when testing a variety of snowshoes is ease of use. You’d be amazed at the differences that you might not notice without comparing models side-by-side. Snowshoe bindings should be easy to get into and out of even with frigid fingers inside bulky gloves. That said, most snowshoe bindings have a bit of a learning curve and some very good ones need adjustment prior to being taken out into the snow. Our advice when picking snowshoes is to wear your biggest, most cumbersome gloves and see if you can work the binding with them. If you can’t quickly learn to do that in a warm shop or your own living room, you are probably going to have trouble out in the snow when it’s below zero and the wind is howling.

Still on the subject of bindings, some are made to hold your boot more firmly than others. The less your foot moves side to side in a binding, the more control you are going to have on sidehills, which are often the toughest challenge for snowshoes. That’s why real backcountry snowshoes will frequently have beefier (and sometimes heavier) bindings than general purpose or recreational shoes. This is something to consider if you intend to tackle steeper hills and tougher trails.

All modern snowshoes come with traction crampons built in, but some are much more aggressive than others. On the MSR Lightning Ascent snowshoes, for example, essentially the whole frame provides traction. The Tubbs Couloir snowshoes we tested two years ago (similar to the new Mountaineer) have a total of 16 1-1/2-inch spikes under the toe and heel of the boot. Other models have much less traction. Obviously traction counts on steep, sidehilled or icy terrain. Our general advice if you are ever going to leave behind flat terrain is to err on the side of having too much traction rather than too little.

Renting snowshoes at a Nordic Center (here at the Trapp Family Lodge in Vermont) is a wonderful way to try before you buy. Just be sure to try them off the packed trail if that's what you intend to do on your own. (Warner Shedd photo)

Finally, some snowshoes, particularly backcountry models, have heel lifts which flip up to provide support for your heel as you are climbing steep terrain. This not only prevents fatigued calves but also helps to keep crampons engaged in the snow to prevent slipping. It’s a nice feature if you are going to climb steep slopes (the longer and steeper the slope, the more you need it). But if you stick mainly to flat or gently rolling terrain, you will probably never use it. Extras add to the cost and weight of a snowshoe; think about what you intend to do, and you’ll have a better idea of whether they’re worth it for you.

Try Before You Buy

Our final recommendation is to try snowshoes on snow before your buy them. Lots of retail stores, Nordic ski resorts, lodges and recreation programs rent snowshoes. Winter Trails Day in early January offers a host of free snowshoe events. Charity events like the Tubbs Romp To Stomp Out Breast Cancer have snowshoes galore to try. And you can always borrow from friends . . .unless, of course, they want to be out playing in the snow, too!

If you are looking for a safe, easy way to bring your family on an outdoor adventure this winter, Lucie Villeneuve can help. (Tim Jones photo)

The little town of Errol in the Great North Woods Region of New Hampshire, is kinda quiet, out of the way (on the Maine border, 20 miles or so north of Berlin), and surrounded by hills, lakes and rivers. In other words, it’s the perfect town if you are looking to find or hold onto winter, or if you enjoy hiking, mountain biking and, especially, paddlesports in summer.

I was in the Errol neighborhood on a winter camping by dogsled adventure on beautiful Lake Umbagog, and built in an extra day to explore a little more of the area. An extra week would have been better. I still wouldn’t have seen it all.

I’d first gotten the idea from the folks at the Northern Forest Canoe Trail. The NFCT is a magnificent 740-mile water passage from Old Forge, New York to Fort Kent, Maine. It’s a paddler’s dream in the summer, but often forgotten in the winter. The NFCT is building partnerships along the trail to help get more people out and exploring year ’round. Worthy goal, and they are doing a great job.

It's the guide's job to break trail up steep slopes for the clients, and Lucie attacked the steeps with glee. (Tim Jones photo)

In Errol, they have partnered with Lucie Villeneuve of Outdoor ESCAPES New Hampshire,  who will arrange guided paddling or hiking adventures in the warmer months and cross-country skiing or snowshoeing in the winter. There are several lodging options for these packages in Errol. The one I selected was 150 Main Street Lodging On The Androscoggin, where owner/hosts Debbie  and Bill Freedman operate a very cozy, comfortable and welcoming guest house right on the banks of the river on the edge of Errol. The Androscoggin here is, of course, part of the Northern Forest Canoe Trail, and it’s literally, steps from the backdoor. Bill is an avid fly fisherman, and would be a terrific resource if you want to fish the area in summer. I ate dinner with the Freedmans that night at the Trading Post Restaurant, a few miles north of Errol in Magalloway, Maine. Bill and I talked fishing all night. Debbie looked like she was used to it. My other meals I took at the Northern Exposure Restaurant, practically next door, hearty home-cooked food to fuel an outdoor adventure.

Speaking of outdoor adventures . . .since I’d just come from three days and two nights of dogsledding, skiing, and winter camping on flat, packed trails around Lake Umbagog, and since there was more than a foot of fresh powder on top of a deep base of snow, I asked Lucie if she’d mind searching for some untracked snow on a slope. She was happy to oblige and made it clear that she will customize adventures to her clients’ desires and abilities.

Since it was just the two of us, and since we are both experienced and avid backcountry skiers, we decided to ski up (“up” being the operative word–remember this for later) the summer access road to Munn Pond, just south of Errol. Even with skis on we were sinking knee deep into the soft snow in the woods. At one point, where the snow-covered road was narrow and especially steep, we detoured onto the packed snow of a nearby snowmobile trail to scale the slope more easily. Sometimes, the longer route is the faster (and easier!) one.

Munn Pond was beautiful, nestled among quiet hills. Though we knew from having skied up a bit of it that there was a snowmobile trail not far away, we couldn’t hear it, and we skied across the lake hearing only the soft sigh of the wind and the hiss of our skis on the snow. Just beautiful. We saw tracks of moose, coyote, ruffed grouse and snowshoe hare, but no tracks of other people. Lucie is a born teacher, good at pointing out and explaining the wonders of nature you see on a trek like this. After a couple of hours of pushing our ski tips into lovely, silent places, we reluctantly headed back down the hill toward the car.

Wheeeee!!!! The payoff for climbing up was skiing down through some deep untracked powder. We enjoyed it so much, we went back up and did it again! (Tim Jones photo)

Remember all that “UP” I mentioned before? Well, baby, this was payoff time!!!

The steep slope we had avoided coming up was now a quarter-mile narrow ribbon of pristine, deep, untracked snow winding through the trees. I went first, swooping down through knee-deep snow, whooping all the way for the pure joy of it, breaking tracks for Lucie to follow. My tracks allowed her to gain speed and she flew past me as I stood to the side of the trail. We were both giggling when we stopped.

In fact, we  had so much fun, we decided to follow our original tracks out to the snowmobile trail, back up the hill and do it all over again. This time, the extra speed and momentum carried us back into the tracks of our original climb and we coasted all the way down to the car. What a great finish!

The  Guided Advantage

By choosing a guided trip, I found not only good companionship, but also a place I probably never would have explored on my own. Not all of us are lucky enough to know someone experienced who can inspire us to try something new and get us started safely. Many of us need outside help with getting motivated, planning and safely executing an outdoor adventure.

Joining an outing club or a group like your local chapter of the AMC, Green Mountain Club or Adirondack Mountain Club is always a good way to meet people who can show you how to get started. You can also get help getting started from outdoor equipment companies like L.L. Bean with their “Walk-On Adventures” programs at many of their stores, REI with its Outdoor School, and EMS with its climbing, kayak and ski schools. All are good options.

But hiring a guide like Lucie makes it very personal. You get to dictate the schedule and the activities you desire. The guide provides the expertise to help you enjoy the adventure without worry. A good guide is well worth the price if you are exploring something new or an area that’s new to you.

We had perfect weather and snow conditions for the ski trip we had planned but she made it clear that she was well prepared with other options if Mother Nature didn’t cooperate. That willingness to go with what the client and the weather dictate makes her a great resource for individuals, but especially for families looking for adventure. Lucie, I discovered, is the mother of two beautiful kids, and a former cross-country ski instructor at both The Balsams Wilderness (which will be closed for the winter of 2011/12 and reopening in summer 2012) in nearby Dixville Notch, N.H and at Gunstock Nordic Center in Gilford, N.H. She also has other guides who work with her throughout the year. As a young mother herself, she’s particularly attuned to the needs of families with young kids. She operates trips throughout New Hampshire, almost year ‘round. In the summer, she specializes in canoeing, hiking, and biking.

The Kifaru "Circus Tent" has lots of space and woodstove for warm and comfortable camping in cold weather. We'll be setting it up as part of our Lightweight Winter camping seminar 2012. (Susan Marean photo)

Every January (for 2012, it’s January 7), the Hulbert Outdoor Center in Fairlee, Vermont offers “Winter Skills Day” which is a chance to comfortably and safely learn outdoor skills that will help you get the most enjoyment from winter. They offer two sessions, morning and afternoon, so you can take two different classes in one day. Price for each seminar  (including lunch) is $35-40 per person depending on the seminar.

The seminars offered this year include: “Principles of Winter Survival and Winter Clothing,” which is something everyone who explores outdoors in winter should understand(and not bad information for anyone who drives in rural areas to know!); “Building Snow Shelters” –haven’t you always wanted to build an igloo or a quinzee in your backyard and sleep in it? This is also essential survival knowledge if you are ever somehow stranded in the winter wilds; “Introduction to Backcountry Skiing,” which will focus on off-trail travel on moderate terrain, “Icefishing 101 (icefishing, particularly combined with snowshoeing, cross-country skiing, Nordic skating and winter camping, is a whole lot of fun); “Basics of Dogsledding,” (you can leave Fido at home; they provide the dogs and sleds), and “Winter Fire Skills” (please re-read Jack London’s “To Build a Fire” if you don’t think this skill is important to safe winter travel).

Setting up a "cold camp" at the Hulbert Outdoor Center's Winter Skills Day in 2011, (Susan Marean Shedd photo)

And, just as they did last year, they are also offering two seminars on Winter Camping. The morning session is on “Traditional Winter Camping.” It’s  taught by Andy Williams who is a very experienced winter traveler in the wild country of northern Canada. Andy  is an affable teacher and a pleasure to spend time with. He will show you a full set up of traditional gear, including wooden toboggans, woodstoves and sturdy canvas tents, and how to use it to travel comfortably and safely through the winter wilds. If you are going to camp in one spot for several days or more, this is an extremely comfortable way to go. Andy has the depth of knowledge that only comes from vast experience, and, no matter how much you’ve camped in the winter, you will learn something from him. And if you are just beginning to wrap your head around the notion of winter camping, this is a wonderful way to see how it was done before the onslaught of synthetic materials changed the world.

In sharp contrast to this traditional method of winter camping, EasternSlopes.com editors David Shedd and Tim Jones are once again teaching a session on “Lightweight Winter Camping,” showing the most modern gear and techniques available. Most of what we are showing is the stuff we use to stay warm and happy while traveling (relatively) light and fast on snowshoes or skis with a big backpack and/or small pulk (a lightweight plastic sled with a rigid pulling harness). It’s just like summer backpacking except there aren’t any bugs (and the snow is usually deeper though that may not be the case this year if this “winter that isn’t” continues).

We'll also be setting up a Titanium Goat tipi that sleeps three and weighs less than 7 pounds—WITH the woodstove! (Susan Marean Shedd photo)

Ours is a very hands-on seminar. As a group, we’ll be setting up two “cold” (unheated) winter tents camps with tents from REI and Easton Mountain Products. We’ll also be setting up at least two lightweight nylon tipis, possibly three...with woodstoves. Yes, you heard that correctly. Lightweight, spacious nylon tipi-style tents with woodstoves. One of the tipis we use is made by Titanium Goat. It will sleep two comfortably with extra space for gear. The whole rig weighs less than 7 pounds WITH the wood stove and stovepipe. We’ll also set up the “Circus Tent,” an 8-man tipi from Kifaru that Tim has owned for more than 20 years and used in the winter wilds from the Adirondacks to northern Labrador. We’ll also be showing some of the latest in backcountry skis and snowshoes, pads, sleeping bags, lights, stoves, cooking gear, and more (our thanks to the manufacturers named above, as well as LL Bean, Mountainsmith, Lowa, GSI Outdoors, Polarmax, Coleman, MSR, Primus, Leki, Life-Link, Therm-A-Rest, Jetboil, Black Diamond, Underwater Kinetics, Sierra Designs, Patagonia, Red Ledge, Revision Military, Osprey, Kelty, TSL Outdoor, Hillsound, Outdoor Research, Katoohla, and others for providing samples for you to check out). None of the gear we are showing is custom made; it’s all available in stores, through catalogs, or on the web. So, anyone who has the desire can fully gear themselves up for winter camping, and we’ll show you how.

We’ll also help participants assess any gear they already have for winter suitability…bring your favorite toys with you!  After this course, you’ll know everything you need to do your first backyard or roadside winter campout comfortably and safely. From there, you can progress in increments to full-on winter travel and camping.

All the seminars offered at the Winter Skills Day are by pre-registration only: visit their website for a full PDF course description, call 802-333-3405 or email Lynn_daly@alohafoundation.org. If you have any questions about the lightweight winter camping seminar, don’t hesitate to email : timjones@easternslopes.com or dshedd@easternslopes.com.

Lake Morey Skate-a-thon, Too

While all this is going on at Hulbert Center, the beautiful Lake Morey Resort  just down the road teams up with Nordic Skater to run the all-day Skate-a-thon where, for a $25 donation for adults ($15 for kids) they’ll fit you with Nordic skates, teach you how to use them, send you out on the longest cleared skating track in North America around Lake Morey. That’s assuming we have safe ice by then, of course…but, at least Mother Nature is cooperating as of this moment!

If you haven’t tried Nordic Skating, you owe it to yourself. It’s like cross-country skate-skiing on ice, easy-to-learn, a great aerobic workout and just plain fun.

We hope to see you at the Winter Skills Day!

Dan, Sam, and me ready to take on Mount Prospect! Compare this with the "after" picture for a good laugh.

One of the least intelligent things I’ve done recently happened late last winter, when the heavy winter snows that pounded the east coast were beginning to melt into rivers. It was in these conditions that several of my friends and I thought a winter camping trip would be a good idea. But my notion of camping (a group of good friends toasting marshmallows by a campfire) didn’t quite match the reality my first winter camping adventure. In fact, our little expedition turned out to be more of an adventure than even my more adventurous companions had planned.

The idea for the trip came from my then-boyfriend, Sam, who loves the outdoors as much as I do and wanted to go camping for his birthday. We were both enthusiastic, and we did a lot of things right throughout the trip. I’ll share a few of those before I detail all those not-so-right things we did.

I never could have done it without Sam. He knew we’d need snowshoes. He told me to dress in lightweight layers in case we sweated when hiking, and that wool layers help keep you warm even if they do get wet. The goal in winter camping is to remain dry. Lesson: When the sun starts to set, clothing saturated with rain, snow, or sweat quickly become cold and dangerous.

Sam helped me evenly distribute weight in my backpack and chivalrously carried most of our shared gear in his own pack. He reminded me to pack extra wool socks, which turned out to be critical. He remembered Advil for headaches, a small stove since making a fire in snow (or ever) is difficult, moleskin (which our friend Dan used when a blister rubbed up), and extra cord which always seems to come in handy.

Another thing we did right: Sam, Dan, and I all told our family and friends exactly where we were going and when we expected to be back to the car. Lesson: Whenever  you go into the wild, let people who care about you know where you’re headed and when you’ll be back. Although it probably terrified my mother, I told her to call local authorities if she didn’t hear from me by 4 p.m. on Sunday. If some disaster had struck and our parents and friends didn’t hear from us, they would have sent out a search team.

Sam emailed me packing lists, my dad emailed me advice, and I emailed myself survival tips. If you’re planning to go winter camping, I recommend you use this list put together by the Eastern Slopes editors: How To: Winter Camping Checklist. If you’re missing any larger items of gear, your nearest EMS or REI store will rent gear for a small fee, and happily sell you any other things you need. We brought plenty of two hiking essentials you can’t find at any store: good attitudes and a thirst for adventure. I learned during the trip, however, that one of the most important things we forgot to pack was common sense. And that’s where the not-so-right choices began.

Danny Kern pauses at the trail's head with about 50 pounds of gear on his back. (Caroline McDonald photo)

We left Boston an hour, (OK, two)  later than we had originally planned. Lesson: On any group camping trip, someone will be late, so plan accordingly. Leaving a little late should have put me on the alert (particularly for winter camping, when the days are short, the nights are cold, and your margin for error is MUCH smaller!), but I wasn’t going to let it bother me. A beautiful three-hour drive later, we arrived at our jump-off point.

Mount Prospect  in the Mount Greylock State Reservation, nestled in the Berkshire Mountains of western Massachusetts. It’s only a few miles from the Norman Rockwell-esque college community of Williamstown. A flat, tree-lined pathway leads you across some fields to start. From there, the trail disappears into the forest. The walk in to the trail proper looked like a frozen, shining entry into a wonderful new world. Turned out that world was just a little harsher than we expected.

We planned the trip for early March, that long-awaited time of year when the temperatures finally begin to climb above freezing, and the ground thaws. It wasn’t too cold to enjoy the tiny, red checkerberries peeking out from under the melting snow, or the rush of the river our hike paralleled.

But the first signs of spring mean more than a picturesque trek through the woods. The unstable weather conditions cause a precarious combination of thawing and freezing which turned the record snows of last season  soft and unstable. Snowshoes were necessary to keep on top of the snow rather than knee-deep in it. Additionally, the “brooks” marked off on the trail map had turned to roaring rivers.

Take note: You should NEVER have a picture taken of you like this because you should never be in this situation. Standing on slippery rocks in near-freezing temperatures is a recipe for disaster. (Caroline McDonald photo)

At the first “brook,” the  little voice of reason in my head said, “This can’t be the right way. Trails don’t take you across rivers. Rivers get you wet, and wet is bad.” But the boys were sure it was the right way. I’m no chicken, but I think my brain shrunk to chicken-sized in that moment, and I crossed the river with them. At that point, we should have turned back and chosen a safer alternate route. Lesson: If it’s winter and you’re hiking, DO NOT risk getting wet. Any of us could have slipped and fallen in the river, completely submerging ourselves. Getting soaked at those temperatures would have immediately put us in a life-and-death survival situation we may or may not have been able to handle. With no one around for miles and no cell phone service, a tough hike out as the sun was setting would have been our only option, and hypothermia would have been a serious threat. Fortunately, none of us slipped.

But here’s one place where I prove conclusively I was dumber than the boys. They had waterproofed their boots; I hadn’t. While stepping across the river on rocks didn’t get their boots wet, it did mine. Hence, Lesson: Waterproof your boots. For a few bucks and a hour of time, you can assure yourself dry boots, or at least boots drier than mine were after that first river crossing.

We crossed two more “rivers” that evening, and, by that time, all of our boots were completely soaked. Crossing the streams was the only way to get to the site where we had planned to camp, and we were determined to get there. Looking back, I’m embarrassed to admit that I made such an unintelligent choice. But not wanting to ruin our fun on my boyfriend’s birthday trip, I meekly went along. We didn’t make it to the site that night. The sun began to set, and I insisted we find a spot and set up camp. The boys finally agreed. Here’s something we did right. Lesson: If the sun is setting, it’s better to stop, set up camp and be sure everything is properly assembled rather than continue. Trying to find a good spot, set up a tent, and get situated can take a while, and it’s very difficult with only a few flashlights.

When you’re winter camping, modern comforts that we take for granted every day are a big deal. It’s easy to forget that people are entirely dependent on sunlight and warmth to function when we live in houses where heat and lights come on with the flick of a finger. It’s not so simple on the side of a mountain when you’re surrounded by snow. Getting our feet dry and warm was the evening’s goal. Thanks to the extra wool socks and foot warmers, we succeeded in rewarming our cold feet.

The Money Brook Trail was lush with fir and birch trees, and it was great to be able to cross a brook with dry feet.. (Caroline McDonald photo)

That night we could hear the wet snow and rain falling outside. I was glad we’d taken the time to be sure the rain fly was properly set up. But we made another rookie mistake. Sam had packed an extra-large tarp to go under the tent–so  the water that slid off the rainfly splashed onto the tarp where some of it ran under the tent. Not surprisingly, the bottom of the tent became damp. Lesson: If you are going to use a ground cloth under your tent, make sure it is covered by the rainfly.

I was grateful Sam and I had packed Therm-a-rest mats. Dan didn’t fare as well without one. Lesson: A pad is as essential for warmth in cold-weather camping as a sleeping bag.

The  morning dawned cold, still, and beautiful. A light snow fell on us as we packed up and set out. The hike up Mount Prospect proved to be one of the most challenging and rewarding days I’ve ever had. The “brooks” we’d crossed the day before didn’t scare me nearly as much as that hike up the mountain did.

The trail was incredibly steep and icy, and my snowshoes didn’t have traction spikes on them. Lesson: Invest in traction aids for safe winter hiking. Creepers, crampons, or snowshoes with spikes make a huge difference if you hike in ice or snow. In our case, crampons would have been the most useful. I’ve since found them to be an easy, lightweight solution to icy hiking. They aren’t as cumbersome as snowshoes and make avoiding tree roots easier.

Navigating the Money Brook Trail with its roots and ice, all with a heavy pack on, was no small feat. All of all of our attention was on the trail before us. The extreme conditions demanded no less. In this physically challenging environment, I found the greatest reward. The hiking introduced a primal sort of Zen. My only concerns were the well-being of the others and the steps in front of me. No room in my mind was left to care about answering emails or how stupid my hat looked (as the pictures will tell).

Our greatest triumph came when we reached a shelter located near the mountain’s peak. There, we indulged in just-add-hot-water burritos out of a bag. I swear it was the tastiest Mexican food I’ve ever eaten. After a short rest, we continued our hike onto the Prospect Trail until we reached an overlook near the summit. A moment with the clear air and perfect, untouched snow justified the tough hike up. We admired the view and added a stone to the cairn started by other brave hikers who had also reached the top. We couldn’t linger for too long though. We had a river to cross and camp to set up before nightfall.

What a reward! 1266 feet of uphill backpacking led us to the summit of Mount Prospect and an unforgettable view. (Caroline McDonald photo)

Whereas I’d found the hike up to be the toughest part, the boys thought coming down was far more challenging. They were carrying more weight than I was, so toppling over was a very real possibility. Lesson: Trekking poles are a safety essential. Before the trip, I’d thought the trekking poles were an extraneous toy for the boys. But during the hike I wished I had brought them, too. They came in handy several times. That night, we used to them to hang damp clothes  by a fire.

The adrenaline I’d been pumping all weekend made the hike out seem easy on Sunday morning, especially compared to the mountain we’d scaled the day before. I didn’t realize how exhausted I was until we reached the car. I felt happy and very lucky to have all of my body parts intact and at  98.6 degrees.

A week later, I couldn’t stop talking about our weekend adventure. I still bring it up frequently. I felt proud of my body for going through the extreme weather and physical exertion. The high was unbeatable.

However, a lot of things we did were plain dumb. Getting out alive was as much pure luck as physical accomplishment and preparedness. I wish we’d planned better, and made better decisions on the way. Maybe I would have if I’d read Hike Wisely before I went.

Feeling both exhausted and proud after three days of winter hiking and camping. (Caroline McDonald photo)

Lesson: Winter camping is a blast.  I encourage every adventurous heart to try it. However, be sure you learn in increments and are prepared to get out safely even if the worst situation arises. Keep my tips and mishaps in mind when you start planning this winter’s camping adventures. And don’t forget to listen when your common sense pipes up! It’s trying to keep you safe!

The good news? It isn’t that your skis have gone downhill; it’s that the ski manufacturers have dramatically improved their understanding of how shaped skis work, and are producing skis that simply work better in ALL the vast and varied conditions you encounter on Eastern ski hills.

Can these wider "sidecountry" skis from Blizzard outperform our beloved Magnum 7.6s on Eastern mountains? Our testing indicated that for many skiers, the answer is a resounding YES! (David Shedd photo)

At EasternSlopes.com, we have, for many years, searched for the perfect “one ski quiver” for Eastern skiing. The operating thesis is that most skiers own one pair of skis, period…and that many who own several pairs take only one pair to the mountain on a given day, and then have to use those skis in dramatically changing conditions. Skiing in the East is all about adapting to change.

Powder day? With today’s emphasis on high capacity, high speed lifts you are lucky if you can get a Powder morning. Unless you are skiing the single chair at Mad River Glen, or it’s snowing all day long, by mid morning you are skiing ”Chowder” (chopped-up powder) or powder bumps.

Groomed corduroy? After a few hundred skiers go over that trail, it’s a small mogul field with “hardpack” between the bumps. The steeper the trail, the faster the corduroy disappears.

Having a ski that can handle all conditions with aplomb means longer days of skiing, more enjoyment and less effort. And, given what ski tickets cost these days, aren’t more runs (with more fun) simply good economics?

Beyond that, there’s one major change in Eastern skiing in recent years: trees.  Yes, the trees have always been there, and yes, there have often been some “official” glades, and yes, there have always been renegade  skiers who poach powder out of bounds; but in the past half dozen years, areas have embraced letting skiers out into huge tracts of land to play. It wasn’t very long ago that areas like Jay Peak, Stowe and Mad River Glen proudly advertised the fact that they wouldn’t pull your ticket if they caught you skiing off the trails.

Now, all of a sudden, it’s the Wild West come East, a peculiar recipe that combines the best of both worlds–groomed slopes with lots of manmade snow, and natural snow skiing among the trees (with a LOT of manmade powder that blows off the trails into the trees to add depth!). But this combination of opportunities demands a lot from both skier and equipment if you want to take full advantage.

With that in mind, we went to the industry demo days at Loon Mountain on March 1 and 2 to test the latest and greatest in skis. Our goal was not necessarily to find “the ski; ” different skis suit different personal tastes and body types, and skiing styles differ. We usually can’t agree among ourselves which is “the best” ski in any test, let alone recommend one for you when we don’t know you or how and where you ski. Rather, we wanted to see if there were any trends that were making sense for the majority of skiers…and were we surprised!

Some background; the last time we did a full-on test of skis across multiple lines to see what the “one ski quiver” should be was 3 years ago at Stratton Mountain. The conditions were perfect for testing “all round” skis. Day one, we had groomed corduroy to start and scratchy boilerplate to end the day, so we were able to see how skis performed in less-than-ideal conditions. At about 6 that evening, it started to snow…and we woke up to 2 feet of powder and more coming down all day long. That narrow-waisted racer ski that was so much fun on Day 1? On Day 2, it sank out of sight. The big, fat “western style” ski that couldn’t put an edge in the hard stuff on Day 1 played around in the fluff on Day 2 like a dolphin at SeaWorld.

Ultimately, we came to the conclusion that the state-of-the-art for overall Eastern use was in skis that had a waist measuring between 73 and 78mm. Skis like the Volkl AC3 (and later AC30), the Blizzard Magnum 7.6, and the Fischer AMC 73 and its later iterations worked for us no matter what we tried (lighter testers loved the Fischers, heavier leaned toward the Volkls, and everyone loved the Blizzards). And, most of us put our money where our mouths were and updated our gear…it was hard to go back to our old boards after feeling the new ones.

Since then, though, the shift has been to wider skis, both underfoot and in the shovel and tail areas.  And, “rocker” has appeared. Essentially, that refers to a ski that sits flat on the snow when unweighted, with the tips and tails up…think about the shape of a rocking chair’s base, and you’ve got the general, if exaggerated, idea. Rocker is intended to allow a ski to float up and over powder; it’s great in soft conditions, but how about in the varied conditions typical in the East?

That question brings up another point…why not just read ski tests, and buy what they recommend? The testers ARE experts, right? Well, yes, they are, and that’s part of the problem. An expert skier can make any ski do things that most skiers can’t; buy what they like, even if they say it’s for an intermediate or beginner skier, and you may hate it. Also, most  ski tests are in unrealistic conditions. Take Ski Magazine’s  testing for their 2011/12 buyer’s guide; in their own words, the conditions in Utah were “thigh-deep Wasatch powder, tracked thigh-deep Wasatch powder, corduroy.” Nary a mention of ice, slush, hard bumps. Soft western corduroy is what we in the East tend to call “hero snow”.  ANY skier can look good and have fun; ANY ski can perform well.  Wonderful…and if you ONLY ski when the conditions are like that, grab the ski they recommend.  Oh, and be prepared to have no fun at all, as you may get only a couple of days of skiing in the whole winter. Better idea? Use the expert recommendations as a guideline, go to on-ski demo days or work with a shop that has a demo fleet, and, as you find skis that feel good to you in normal conditions, narrow your focus down to those and the ones similar to them.

You might, at this point, be asking “so, why should we be reading YOUR recommendations?” Good question, and easy answer. One, we actually test in Eastern conditions, and drag the skis into different situations. If we love a ski on corduroy, we immediately take it into the crud, the bumps and out into the glades if we can. Two, we’re not going to tell you what to buy; we want you to go out and actually test for yourself. Heck, it’s fun, and it’ll likely get you a ski that works right for YOU and make you a better skier as a bonus. Pay attention to that last part…the more skis you test and really try to find what feels right for you, the better you’ll be at recognizing the differences, and at being able to get the most out of whatever  skis you are on.

Sensing a trend here? From boutique manufacturers like Goode to old-world traditionalists Fischer and Rossignol, more manufacturers are producing wider waist, big-sidecut skis that can handle powder, crud, AND hard surfaces well. (David Shedd photo)

Okay, on to the fun part…the skis. Two days at Loon Mountain, male and female skiers, various shapes and sizes and skill levels, and some fascinating results. Let’s deal with rocker first, as that’s the easy part. Based on our admittedly limited experience, for the typical Eastern skier that doesn’t live entirely in the trees or terrain parks, full rocker doesn’t appear to be a good idea. The characteristics that make it float up and over deep powder and give nice, gentle landings make it unstable in harder conditions. Effectively, on hard corduroy or boilerplate, you’re skiing on only a small part of the skis total edge under your foot; the rest of the ski tends to flop around and not make solid contact. We tested 190cm full-rocker skis that felt like ice skates underfoot; one tester commented: “I haven’t been that scared on skis in 20 years.” However, some rocker can be a good thing. A rockered tip allows the ski to easily move up and over deep piles of crud or flow through moguls; a rockered tail is great if you play in the woods and often need to move backwards out of dead-end spots that you’ve skied yourself into. Be aware, though, that if you choose a ski with rocker, you need a longer ski than otherwise in order to get the same performance in the hard conditions. Yes, that’s right; after years of skis getting shorter and shorter, new technologies are making skis get longer again!

Next comes the issue of ski width. Here’s the takeaway: wider HAS gotten better. Three years ago, skis in the 88-98 waist range were fun in the powder, but very difficult to get to “bite” in hard conditions. We all found them slow edge to edge, and tiring to ski. Even if we could make them perform well on hard snow, we had to work much too hard, which means short days of skiing.  That’s no longer true. The majority of the skis that we tested in that range this time around were fun to ski!  And, there wasn’t any specific “this width works best”; some 98s bit better than some 88s. Clearly, some manufacturers have gotten it better than others; and bizarrely enough, some of the most radical designs and most expensive skis from some of the biggest names were among the worst skis we tried.  In fact, to a certain extent, expensive is the enemy of good in this category. Why?  Because many manufacturers use “metal” in their top-of-the-line skis; in other words, a sheet of metal in the ski’s layup that adds stiffness. Great idea in narrow racing skis to reduce torsional twist; great for very heavy skiers, as well. For the average person who is trying to get a fat ski to bend, extra metal makes the ski feel like a board. Lesson to be taken from this: Don’t be afraid to try lower-end skis. The wider the ski you’re considering, the lower you should try in a manufacturer’s line before you buy. And, if you demo a ski and it’s way too stiff, ask if the same ski is available in a softer version; some manufacturers have virtually identical skis in different stiffnesses.

Kastle's Marc Sheehan shows off the MX88 and the BMX88. The main difference? Metal vs. no metal...and we all preferred the softer (and less expensive) option! (David Shedd photo)

After pushing our physical and mental limits (when you’re used to a 73mm waist, it’s hard to believe that a 110mm can actually work on firm corduroy), here’s the consensus: Even the most hard-headed traditionalists among us admitted that if they had to buy a ski TODAY, with their hard-earned money, and were going to ski ALL Eastern conditions with it for the next three years, they wouldn’t consider anything narrower than 78mm at the waist. Most testers felt that while the narrower skis still were amazingly fun when pushed hard on hard surfaces, they’d likely end up with one of the skis in the 83-98mm range, with regular tree skiers more on the high end of the range.

What about even wider skis?  We tried them. And, everyone agreed that while the skis above 100mm were often remarkable, when we removed the “wow, this works better than we expected!” factor, we found that…they didn’t work that well. They can certainly get down the mountain when necessary, and some could even be fun in fairly hard conditions, but as a day-in, day-out compromise they’re simply not a good choice for anyone other than utterly hardcore tree skiers. And, even some of those felt that going a bit narrower was a good compromise, allowing plenty of flotation while giving a greater safety margin when running into unexpected hardpack or, dare we say it, blue ice, deep in the glades.

In a bizarre twist, German manufacturer Volkl's wide skis have Japanese themed graphics and names. (David Shedd photo)

Our final recommendations:

1. Get to the first demo day you can. Be well rested and get there for first tracks, ready for a long day.

2. If you like a ski on the groomers, get it into the crud or the trees and see how it responds; you may be surprised in either a good or bad way.

3. Push a little beyond the familiar. If you think you’re a mainly “groomers only” skier and want a narrower waist ski for that, force yourself to try a wider ski anyway. You’ll learn more about yourself as a skier, appreciate the narrower ones even more, and you just might get a huge surprise and find that conditions that have made you nervous are now fun!

4. Once you have your new skis, take a lesson or two.  Skiing technique has changed with the new ski designs, and the need for correct technique becomes even more important the wider the ski gets.  You no longer need to shove your knee at the tip of the ski to try to bend it; now, you want to be more balanced, using both the tip and the tail to carve your turns, tilting the ski to the side to bend it rather than doing it with forward pressure.

Which, of course brings up another issue…boots.  Tall, stiff boots with a lot of forward lean are out for non-racers; for the rest of us, a boot that has more fore/aft flex to allow you to work with the flex of the ski but is laterally stiff to transmit the tipping motion directly to the edge of the ski gets you more performance for less effort.  That translates to more skiing, more control, less exhaustion, and much better use of your skiing dollar.  Put it in perspective; a new pair of boots that will give you more skiing time for years can cost as little as the equivalent of a half dozen lift tickets; a cheap price to pay!  Choosing a new boot doesn’t have to be a horrible process; follow the guidelines and work with a qualified bootfitter, and you may be surprised at how easy it is.

The bottom line is that, as we’ve often said, given how much each day of skiing costs you it’s worth making sure that your equipment allows you to get the most fun AND skiing time. And while we’re not fans of updating equipment too often (some of the pleasure comes from that connection with a familiar piece of equipment that allows you to not even THINK about what you have to do, but simply play), the fact is that ski technology has improved so rapidly that today’s skis allow you to handle more conditions more easily and with a lot more fun…and isn’t that why we’re all out there???

Edie hiking to eagle viewing spot (Warner Shedd photo)

No, we aren’t entering our second childhood, nor do we expect you to start working on Boy Scout merit badges! We’re talking about the real thing – looking for those magnificent birds that are our national symbol. If you’ve ever seen a bald eagle in person, you know it’s an experience you won’t soon forget.

So it was during a vacation to Prince Edward Island (PEI) in June that we went looking for bald eagles and adventures for seniors. We discovered that there would be plenty of both on PEI, which is decribed as a magical place by everyone we know who has been there.  Yes, we’re aware that we headed to another country to see our national bird, but they’re allowed to take vacations in Canada as much as we are!

We left the mainland and crossed the eight-mile-long Confederation Bridge one morning, driving over what is considered one of Canada’s great engineering and construction feats.  It’s almost worth the trip just to cross it; it’s truly impressive!  Then we turned northeast in order to visit The Cheese Lady’s, where utterly delicious Gouda cheese is made (let’s face it, there’s no escaping good food when we go to Canada; it’s a trial, but we persevere). The Cheese Lady and her helpers sell many different Goudas, some flavored with various herbs and others aged for different lengths of time. We bought three different goudas to sample (splitting the cost between us so that it would be a true “Dutch treat”), and we can tell you it was money well spent!

Then we headed for Mount Stewart where, every year in June, bald eagles gather on Hillsborough Heritage River to feed on the annual run of alewives.  Apparently, it’s not just people (like us!) who “road trip” to Canada for the food.  For the record, alewives have nothing to do with either brewed beverages, spouses, or even spouses who have consumed brewed beverages. They’re a kind of fish, very abundant and, apparently, very tasty to eagles (which are a kind of fish hawk). The town, however, ignores the alewives and simply calls it an annual Bald Eagle Festival with events galore and opportunities to watch the eagles and learn about the Canadian Maritimes ancient cultures.

Because we are confirmed eagle scouts — they are one of our favorite excuses to go exploring — we drove past the Hillsborough River Eco-Centre in Mount Stewart, across a little bridge, and then parked just off a road named Pigot’s Trail that led through fields and along woods beside a lake.  Armed with binoculars and rain jackets, we hiked about a half mile on a wide and flat trail to an eagle observation area. The walking was easy and along the way we stopped to watch a highly trained Labrador retriever perform; it was fascinating to watch him respond to a variety of hand signals and voice commands — especially when he had to retrieve two widely spaced dummies (no, not us…REAL dummies). Then it was on to see the eagles.

Closeup of mature bald eagle. (Ellen Shedd photo)

Soon we came to a side trail, apparently without a name, that turned left and led out onto a long point. In our estimation, it was the best bald eagle observation spot because it juts farther out into the lake than the rest of the shoreline and provides almost a 270 degree view. When we reached the viewing area, we were very glad to have our rain jackets, for the wind was blowing a near gale, and the temperature was somewhere in the upper 40s!  Raingear does great double duty as a windbreaker, luckily for us. We didn’t mind, however, because we tolerate cold far better than hot weather and the wind kept the hordes of mosquitoes that normally infest the area at bay.  At the end of the point we met a man with a spotting scope, and he pointed out some of the regal birds that we might not have seen otherwise.  If you’ve got the extra funds and space in your backpack, a spotting scope can be a great addition to your binoculars; after this experience, we may look into one for ourselves!

We immediately began to see bald eagles, both mature, with their snowy white heads and tails, and the brown or mottled brown immatures. Rest assured, one does not have to be a dedicated birder to appreciate these magnificent creatures. Huge and impressive, they are a feast for the eyes! We hoped we’d see something spectacular, like watching them catching large fish and soaring away with them, but no such luck. Still, we got to watch two adult eagles sitting in the tall grass with a couple of immature eagles. The latter, judging by their solid brown color, were evidently fledglings testing their wings. Half-hidden in the tall grass, they would periodically flap their wings, fly up for a short distance, and then land again in the tall grass. Mom and dad eagle didn’t seem to be mightily impressed with the kids’ efforts, but they were fun for us to watch!

As a bonus, we saw quantities of great blue herons, which are almost as impressive as the eagles.   There’s something prehistoric about them…they almost look as if they could be flying dinosaurs with their long beaks and long legs trailing behind them. At one point we saw five of these great birds flying close together overhead like the Blue Angels! We ended up with a total of 12 spotted on this trip.

There were lots of smaller birds, too. We saw ruddy ducks, ringneck ducks, and flocks of red-winged blackbirds. We could also hear a variety of smaller birds in the alders along the trail and in the woods as we walked back out to the car. Unfortunately, our identification of bird calls is somewhat sketchy, and we could never see the birds, so they remained unidentified. Clearly, though, if you want to take the time, there are lots of birds to be seen; you may want to take a folding chair when you go so that you can relax, enjoy, and expand your life list!

Both mature and immature bald eagles. (Ellen Shedd photo)

Following this adventure, we stopped in St. Peters for lunch at Rick’s Fish and Chips. We were treated to a huge and absolutely delectable meal of the famous PEI mussels, raised at a mussel farm just across the highway from Rick’s. We can’t recommend these mussels highly enough; they’re a rare treat. On the other hand, forget the fried clams on PEI. While not the fault of  Rick’s (the batter was outstanding and the clams were perfectly cooked), visitors who spend a great deal of time on PEI confirmed that clams there are flavorless when compared to Maine clams. Stick with the mussels, and when you leave PEI, head south to Maine for  real fried clams!

Finally, it was on to our oceanside rental, happy with our eagle and heron sightings. We arrived in the mood for more adventures, which we knew we could find in abundance on Prince Edward Island. Our next adventure includes a trip to see the dunes in the Greenwich section of the PEI National Park. 

We should also mention the Confederation Trail, which follows an old railroad bed spanning PEI. There are side trail entrances to this trail, with two of them located in Mount Stewart.  The Confederation Trail offers many fine opportunities for both hiking and biking. A good source of information is the Visitor’s Guide, available at www.tourismpei.com or phone toll free at 1-800-463-4PEI.

If you go:
If you travel to PEI and go out to the prime eagle observation area, be sure to take a windbreaker and plenty of insect protection like a Thermacell, InsectShield clothing, or even a full mesh bug suit, as well as a high DEET insect repellent. If the wind is blowing hard, and the weather is cold, you’ll be glad of the windbreaker. If it’s still, or there’s only a light breeze, the bug protection is vital to ward off the hordes of fierce mosquitoes; without protection, the mosquitoes may carry you up and away until you find yourself flying with the eagles – until the skeeters have drained all your blood, that is!  Take some snacks and something to drink; if you find yourself surrounded by eagles, you won’t want to leave because of a growling stomach.

Backpacking means carry a lot of gear and, if you aren’t careful it’s easy to forget something. (Tim Jones photo)

What they really are is sins of omission.

It happens, at one time or another to anyone who leaves the road behind: You and your boon companions have loaded all your camping gear into a backpack, canoe or kayaks or onto mountain bikes and you’ve hiked, paddled or pedaled far. The sun is heading toward the horizon when you reach your campsite, night is coming fast and, as you unload your gear, you or someone else (hopefully someone else) suddenly says “Did you pack the . . . ?” or “Where is the . . . ?” or even “!#&$*!, I forgot my . . . !”

Here, you can fill in the blank with some item (or items) that you just know you are going to miss, especially because there’s no possible way of rectifying your sin of omission. You are just going to have to live with the consequences for at least one night, maybe longer.

In some cases, what you’ve forgotten really won’t be missed at all: did you really need that travel backgammon set? In other cases, you can make do: a lot of campsite wine has been drunk from coffee cups; a (clean) finger makes a serviceable emergency toothbrush . . .

But then there are essentials: Forgetting insect repellent and protective clothing in bug season can make camp life pure misery. Forgetting your rain gear when a cold rain sets in on Mount Washington can make your trip dangerous. And heading out unprepared in the winter is downright foolhardy.

On a recent overnight, I set a new personal-worst record for forgetting things. After yet another long, stressful day of hard work in a long series of such days, my buddy David (who had come to help me with one piece of the larger project) and I backpacked into one of our off-the-beaten-track campsites for a much needed getaway night. When we got to camp, I had one of those classic “uh-oh” moments. Actually, I had several . . .

When you have everything you need, camp life can be positively luxurious. Just make sure you don’t forget something important. (Tim Jones photo)

I’d remembered the important stuff like solo tent, sleeping bag, stove, fuel, cook kit, insect repellent, toilet kit, most of my share of food, etc. But I’d forgotten my tea mug, wine glass, and the Romaine lettuce for the Caesar salad. I’d also brought two right Crocs for camp shoes (do you get the picture that these overnights are not exactly “roughing it”?). And, most critically, I’d forgotten the pad to go under my sleeping bag. Ooops . . .

For me, packing for a camping trip is a multi stage process that starts with taking what I’ll need from the storage bins in the attic and piling it in the middle of my office. From there, it all goes into whatever backpack, pannier or dry bags I’m using for the particular  trip.

In this case, the sleeping pad, coffee cup and wine glass had made it out of the attic and into the office, but, somehow, they hadn’t made that giant leap into the backpack. When I got home, I found them all under a shirt I’d decided not to take. I just got careless, I guess. The lettuce was in the fridge for last minute packing and somehow that got forgotten, too.

In the grand tradition of all who of us who are good at this CRAFT (“Can’t Remember A Freakin’ Thing”) , I made do with what was available. With plenty of other food (including spareribs and sirloin tips, veggies, and dessert. . .), we didn’t really miss the salad. I carry teabags in a screw-top plastic container that made a dandy wine glass and morning tea cup. And David’s Crazy Creek Hexalite Long chair, folded flat, provided enough padding on the soft forest duff that I slept comfortably through the night, waking only when a thunderstorm boomed overhead and dropped a quick downpour. Actually, it was warm enough and the ground was soft enough that I probably would have slept well without any pad, just by hollowing out a spot for my hip bones. Pads are often more necessary for insulation than they are for padding.

While it’s possible to camp with very little you’re more comfortable if you have everything you need. (Tim Jones photo)

Even with several forgotten items, it was a very pleasant getaway in the midst of a very stressful stretch of days. Well worth doing. Overnight getaways almost always are.

Would it have been better not to forget anything? Absolutely! And I intend to never forget anything again. But I will. And you will, too, if you go camping enough. With any luck, you’ll be able to “make do” and have a grand time anyway.

How To Never Forget Anything Important

1. Always prepare for the next trip as you finish the last one. Clean and dry everything, replace batteries (or put rechargeables in the charger), fuel, toilet paper, toothpaste or anything else that got used up so you don’t end up tearing around at the last minute trying to gather what you need. The more prepared you are, the easier it is to have everything eventually arrive at your campsite in good working order.

2. Store everything where you can find it. I keep the basics for a quick overnight (toilet kit, emergency kit, first aid kit, headlamp, eating utensils, headlamp, etc) in a small plastic storage tub in the attic. Backpacks hang from hooks, tents are on shelves, sleeping bags and pads in big storage bins, etc. So it’s just a matter of picking a backpack, tent, sleeping bag, stove appropriate for the trip. It would be easier if I only owned one backpack, one tent, etc., but what fun would that be?

3. Keep a checklist and use it every time. A checklist can save you a lot of headaches, but only if you actually use it . . . If you only follow one rule to avoid forgetting anything, this is the one to follow. I recommend double checking yourself. Have the checklist in hand and check items off as you put them into the packing pile. The double-check is harder: have the checklist in hand and check items off (with a different color pen, or make an “X” across your first checkmark) as you actually pack them into your backpack, panniers or dry bags. It’s that second check that will prevent you from leaving gear hidden under the shirt you decided not to pack. Pre-print copies of whatever checklist you prefer and leave them WITH your gear; that way, you won’t have to worry if your computer hard drive suddenly dies just before your trip.

4. Cross check and double-check with your companions on communal gear. If you are supposed to bring the stove, or the tent, make sure you know that and do it. Otherwise, people are going to be very annoyed with you at some point. David and I usually put communal gear into laundry baskets or canvas totes in the car to divvy up as we pack at the trailhead or launch ramp. Make sure you write all of your “extras” for the trip onto your checklist, and doublecheck them at the same time you do the others! It is WAY too easy to leave that bag of food in the refrigerator on your way out the door, and if you want to end up on the post office wall as “least wanted on a camping trip”, that’s the fastest way to get there.

5. Get in the habit of taking a final, unstressed look around at each stage of the process. Check where you store your gear, to make sure it all got moved to the staging area. Check the staging area to make sure your sleeping pad hasn’t hidden under a shirt you decided not to take. Check the refrigerator for anything you meant to pack last minute (yes, I said this above, but it’s worth repeating). Check everyone’s car at the trailhead to make sure everything got into backpacks; we’ve left plenty of headlamps on car seats. Check your campsite before you leave in the morning so everything you need comes home for the next trip.

6. If you do forget something (and you will, no matter how careful you are), make do with what you have, learn from your mistake. Hopefully, you haven’t forgotten something that puts you in real jeopardy. As long as it’s not something you need to survive the night, you can  laugh about it and have fun anyway.

.

Can you see yourself in this picture? Volunteers building a bridge on a portage trail along the Northern Forest Canoe Trail are clearly proud of an accomplishment they might not do in every day life. (Northern Forest Canoe Trail photo)

If your budget is limited this summer (whose isn’t?) but you still like the idea of getting outdoors, getting some real exercise (for a change), and spending quality time with new friends, consider volunteering for one of the great organizations that helps maintain hiking and biking trails, parks, campsites, canoe launches, and natural areas throughout the northeast. It’s something you can do with your family or friends, and I can guarantee you’ll get more from the experience than you give.

All those wonderful trails we walk and pedal on all summer don’t appear by accident. Beaches, campsites and boat launches aren’t self-cleaning. It takes lots of planning, coordination, and, yes, occasional hard labor to keep them in top shape. Not to put any guilt on you or anything, but, if you’re going to enjoy using them, shouldn’t you help maintain them?

While volunteers for outdoor organizations do a variety of necessary jobs like answering phones and updating websites, the folks who have the real fun are the ones who go out and cut brush, remove deadfall, roll rocks, dig water-diversion cuts, build bridges, maintain shelters, paint blazes, stack rock cairns, pick up trash and do whatever else needs to be done outdoors.

It’s hard to imagine that walking with friends and picking up trash as you go could be deeply soul-satisfying. But it is. Even using a simple pair of loppers to trim back encroaching brush can be immensely gratifying—especially when you look back and see a swath of clear trail behind you.

Moving a big log for a bridge support teaches cooperation for these Northern Forest Canoe Trail crew volunteers. (Northern Forest Canoe Trail photo)

There’s a certain satisfaction to pure, hard, physical labor that leaves you tired and a little sore at the end of the day. Don’t believe me? Volunteer and swing a Pulaski (a combination of an axe head and grub hoe on a long handle) to flatten a trail traversing a steep slope. I guarantee you’ll appreciate every level section of trail more when you next walk or ride them.

Ditto with using shovel, pickaxe and crowbar to move a rock that, when you first looked at it, seemed immovable. This is especially true when you roll that rock into place to make a perfect step that won’t move or erode in a thousand years of weather and hiking boots.

The pleasure of all this is even greater if you weren’t sure you could do it. You can learn a lot about yourself and your hidden abilities working hard to repair a trail or build a riverside campsite.

You can also learn even more about other people and how to work with them. When no one person can move a big rock, it takes real teamwork to get the job done. No corporate or school “team building” exercise ever taught as much about cooperation and goal achievement as simply working together to roll a big rock from Point A to Point B. Too bad more corporations and schools don’t encourage their employees and students to volunteer with outdoor groups.

Volunteering is a terrific way to get yourself out and enjoying something new. After all, you’re suddenly involved in something much larger than your own day-to-day existence, you’re helping yourself and other people get more enjoyment from the world, and you’re getting some fresh air and great exercise while you are doing it. What more could you ask for?

Volunteer Opportunities Abound

These AMC trail crew workers are learning as much about teamwork as they are about themselves. (AMC photo)

Every organization that has anything to do with the outdoors needs volunteer labor. Here are just a few opportunities that I’ve encountered recently; if you don’t find what you are looking for in this list, look around and you’ll find something, or contact me for ideas. If you know of an organization that needs volunteers for outdoor recreation projects, let me know and I’ll add it to the list.

Adirondack Mountain Club uses volunteers to maintain trails and campsites throughout the region.

Appalachian Mountain Club holds many volunteer work days, weekends and weeks over the course of a year in Maine, New Hampshire, Massachusetts and Connecticut. Some are through the head organization, many more are with local chapters. Many of their opportunities, especially the ones for kids and families with kids fill up early (which tells you how much fun they are . . .) , though some still have a wait list and there’s always the possibility of last-minute cancellations.

Appalachian Trail Conference needs volunteers to help monitor, mark, maintain the 2,000+ miles of the AT from Maine to Georgia. This site has links to local chapters with volunteer opportunities.

Connecticut Forest & Park Association uses a network of volunteers to maintain a network of hiking trails and campsites throughout the state.

Eastern Fat Tire Association has a long-standing “Pay Dirt” program where competitive mountain bikers get points for trail work with any of the following organizations. The rest of us, of course, can do it for the fun and exercise.

• International Mountain Bike Association

• New England Mountain Bike Association

• Vermont Mountain Bike Advocates

• Kingdom Trails

• Bicycle Coalition of Maine

Green Mountain Club offers “volunteer vacations” doing trail and shelter maintenance throughout Vermont. These programs last well into September.

Maine Island Trail Association holds island cleanup sessions in September and October—this is a great chance to get out on the water at a beautiful and uncrowded time of year.

NH Rail Trails Coalition is an umbrella organization that can link you to dozens of local projects which all need volunteers.

• Northern Rail Trail in Grafton County takes care of 23 miles of trail.

• Northern Rail Trail in Merrimack County has 23 miles of trail with  a major extension planned in September 2011 with more  for subsequent years.

Northern Forest Canoe Trail maintains portage trails, launch sites, takeouts and campsites along 760 miles of waterways from New York to the northern tip of Maine.

The Trustees Of Reservations protects some of the most beautiful places in Massachusetts and always needs volunteer help for a day or longer.

Upper Valley Trails Alliance maintains trails and other outdoor resources along the Vermont/ New Hampshire border.

White Mountain National Forest and Green Mountain National Forest use volunteers constantly for forest recreation projects.

The Trailwrights

This very special organization runs trail one-day trail maintenance projects throughout the region from mid-April through November. Rather than focusing on trails in one area, they serve as a central repository of knowledge, resources and skills which can be tapped by any organization that needs them. Working with The Trailwrights, volunteers get the skills they need to carry the work ahead on their own. Check their website for a constantly-updated list of volunteer opportunities. Great organization!

At my first lesson I heard that IMCS needed “clients” for a guide recertification program, and we arranged to be the lucky guinea pigs. My first experience rock climbing was so positive and so much fun that I wanted to share it. So I came with five friends from college in tow: Jessie and Breanne, who are my roommates and best friends; Dan and my boyfriend Sam, who love mountain sports as much as I; and Casey, an “artsy” sort of guy who had never rock climbed before but was brave enough to come along anyway. I figured the only thing better than rock climbing with a friend and fantastic instructor would be rock climbing with five friends and more fantastic instructors. I was right!

Dan Kern takes on The Brain, the most challenging pitch of the day. (Breanne Sparta photo)

We caravanned up from Boston on Saturday evening and stayed at the Royalty Inn in Gorham, New Hampshire, a wonderful home base for a bunch of budget-minded college kids (or a family seeking an inexpensive getaway spot). I learned that they do amazing ski and stay packages with Wildcat Mountain in the winter and I can’t wait to go back when there’s snow on the ground. It was clean and comfortable, the staff was friendly, and the lobby even provided coffee for us in the morning,  exactly what we needed before a day in the mountains. Great value!

Since this my second lesson and I knew what to expect, I didn’t have any nervous butterflies in my stomach when I pulled into the International Mountain Equipment (IME) parking lot. My first lesson had put me at ease, and I knew I loved climbing. My friend Casey, who had never climbed before, told me afterwards that he was nervous. But being with a group of friends bolstered his confidence. Here’s a tip: If you are trying a new sport go with friends. It’ll give everyone courage and help you relax and enjoy the new experience.

Upstairs in the IME/IMCS shop, our group became even bigger when we met others who would be joining us  as guinea pigs for the day. We experienced what it would be like to participate in one of IME’s larger group trips with lots of climbers and several guides all working/playing together.

While we were all being fitted in helmets, harnesses, and shoes, I got to know some of the other people including Leif and his wife, Autumn (perfect names for a couple who love the outdoors!). Leif, an experienced climber, offered to help me out with this article. He had this to say about being geared up:

“The IME staff was high class! I appreciated their attention to detail. ‘Do you have pants, a jacket?’ they asked. ‘Are those the shoes you’ll be wearing for the hike in?…Try these on!’ Whatever the clients lacked in gear, IME stepped it up to ensure everyone’s comfort and safety.”

IME offers rentals for any sort of gear you may not have remembered or known to bring. They warned us it would be cold in the mountains and rain threatened despite mild conditions at the shop’s location. They offered us all backpacks and rain jackets (stylish ones at that!). Sam borrowed a pair of pants, and Casey took a sweater. We were all grateful for IME’s extra thought. As Leif said, “It was not exactly the sunny and cloud-free day which had been promised by the Weather Channel. But, then again, we were in the Presidential Range where my guess—or yours—is as good as the weatherman’s. Anyone wearing only shorts definitely paid the climate penalty as we spent all morning and afternoon socked in by fog and body-chilling winds.”

Can you spot me at the top of The Chimney? Although this was the longest pitch, the slight incline on it makes it a good climb for new learners. (Breanne Sparta photo)

Cold it may have been, but with plenty of physical activity to keep us warm, we didn’t have time to get uncomfortable. Some of the guides had gone ahead of our group and set up five pitches along Square Ledge: Standard Route, The Prize, The Chimney, The Brain, and Practice Session. You might be familiar with this location since it is directly across Route 16 from Mount Washington and only a short, easy hike from the AMC Pinkham Notch Visitors Center. Had it been a clearer day, we would have had a terrific view of New Hampshire’s beloved highest mountain from here. I hear the view is definitely worth the short walk.

One way to ensure a great day of climbing is to stay safe, and our guides were serious about protecting our precious bodies in every possible way. Before we were anywhere near the climbing area, the guides stopped and asked us to put on our helmets in case something fell from the cliff above.

Before we started climbing, we were given an obligatory  30-minute basic skills lecture. Sounds awful doesn’t it?  It was actually fun! As Leif describes: “This lecture included not only tips on safety, but ‘knotology,’” climbing and belay techniques, and a few useful pieces of rock jargon. Our guides’ s instructional flare made sure this ‘classroom lecture’ was anything but a bore.”

In fact, we put all these tips into action during the day with the help of one-on-one instruction. I spent the most time with Jed, an instructor who’s probably my grandfather’s age but who seems more like he’s my age. He not only taught me practical things like how to tie a Figure 8 knot; he also showed me that I don’t need anti-aging cream. I just need to keep rocking climbing to stay young forever! Because of Jed, I realized that “Climb on!” is not just standard communication to alert someone that he or she is “on belay,” it is a metaphor for life!

Jed teaches a few of us how to properly put on a harness to ensure our safety. (Caroline McDonald photo)

And “Climb on” we did. The five pitches ranged in difficulty from 5.4 to 5.8 (Yosemite decimal system). “The Brain,” named for its lumpy, brain-like protrusions, stumped all but Jed at first. On the uppermost climb, Practice Session, a few of us were taught how to use a hand wedge in a long, vertical crack. We cheered and coached (and sometimes poked fun at) each other until we’d successfully touched the top anchor on each of the pitches. The “Standard Route” and “The Prize” shared a rock face and made for good competition. Dan and I even raced each other. Do you need to ask who won? (Me, of course!)

Like Dan and me, most of our friends had limited climbing experience. Dan had done some bouldering (practicing technical rock climbing skills close to the ground usually on big, stand-alone rocks), but had never climbed with ropes on a mountain’s rock face. He said that the technical thinking and skills needed to climb boulders prepared him for cliff climbing. He felt more in communion with nature climbing in the mountains than any other time he’s climbed. The beautiful forest around us was enjoyable to climb in, and also a relaxing place to chill out between climbs. While resting and munching on a snack, I had time to watch the others. I paid particular attention to my friend Casey-the-newbie.

It's all about teamwork! Casey climbs Practice Session with the assistance of Dan and Sam belaying. Practice Session is a challenge and a good pitch to learn vertical crack climbing. (Caroline MDonald photo)

Casey defnitely had as much fun on his first climbing experience as I did on mine. Although he loves the outdoors, he’s usually too busy in an art studio or working on a graphic design project to get away to the mountains. It didn’t take much coaxing for him to come with us this time, and I’m thrilled he did. Being able to share my new favorite mountain sport with a friend who also loved it might have been the most rewarding part of my day. I was reminded that being outside isn’t just about the fun I have as much as it is about the fun I share.

Talking with and learning from new friends improved our experience even more. As the most experienced of the “clients”Leif was able to share many stories and tips. He was happily surprised that, “Everyone climbed brilliantly! From the total novice, to the seasoned veteran. Everyone in the group attained great heights; if not literally, then surely by their concentrated effort and ‘go for it spirit.’”

Even more than reaching the top anchor, the “go for it spirit” was what the day was all about. We supported each other, whether it was by belaying or watching from a comfortable nearby rock. Our time at Square Ledge was as much about each other, catching up with old friends or making new ones, as it was about pushing ourselves physically.

The beautiful hike out is one reward of climbing Square Ledge. (Breanne Sparta photo)

After the day was over and we’d returned our gear, Leif summed up the experience: “I have to say that this trip certainly changed my perspective toward IME. Before, it was just that cool store where I would browse before or after a camping trip. But now, I am convinced that it is a place where everyone should hire a guide and quite possibly have a life-altering experience. Being an ‘advanced amateur’ climber who had taken a hiatus from the sport, I was reminded of the joys of getting vertical. I hope that this walk down (or should I say ‘climb up?’) memory lane will get me to pull the dusty gear out of my closet and once again become a weekend crag warrior. Cheers to IME!”

Leif captured my sentiments exactly. I was impressed at the ease with which IME taught climbers of differing experience levels, recertified instructors, and made sure we all had a lot of fun. I’ll remember this day as one of the best I’ve ever spent outside.

When you go

The International Climbing School, which is a part of International Mountain Equipment, offers rock climbing, ice climbing, and mountaineering lessons throughout the Mount Washington Valley.

Seven days a week, their top-notch instructors offer full-day lessons for groups of one or more. Prices start at $95 per person for a larger group and change according to group size. Advanced climbers looking to improve would be smart to sign up for a 2-day private lesson for $500.

If a full day is too much for you and yours, as it might be for newcomers, a half-day lesson is an alternative offering. A half-day lesson was exactly what I needed the first time I climbed. (Prices start at $85 per person.) Click here for a complete pricing list.

For more complete information, check out the IME/IMCS website here or give them a call at (603)-356-7064.

The IME/IMCS shop is located on a main stretch of the White Mountain Highway in North Conway, New Hampshire. The other local shops satisfy the hearts of outdoor enthusiasts and neo-hippies alike, and are definitely worth checking out before or after your climbing excursion. Also be sure to get a caffeine boost just down the road from The Frontside Grind, a coffee shop that roasts their own beans.

Lodging: We stayed at the Royalty Inn in Gorham the night before climbing. The entire group was glad we stayed close to IME’s shop (only a quick, half-hour drive) instead of driving up from Boston early in the morning. Rousing a bunch of college kids (or anyone, for that matter) at 5:00 a.m. on a Sunday is the opposite of fun, and being well rested makes for a better day. Staying at the Royalty Inn or somewhere close the night before is definitely  recommend.

Planning: The Mount Washington Valley Chamber of Commerce provides one-stop shopping for lodging, dining and attractions (yes, there are things to do other than rock climbing in the area!)

You can't always count on hiking trails to be dry . . .(Tim Jones photo). . .

Sometimes it rains a lot in New England, especially in the spring or early summer, but you can get a wet stretch of weather any time from March through December. Basically, you have two choices when it rains long and hard. You can let yourself be kept prisoner, or you can prepare yourself to go out and have fun in it.

There are a few Active Outdoors sports (rock climbing comes to mind) which can’t be done in the rain, but most sports are all still options. Any active water sport like paddling, surfing and windsurfing is pretty much the same in the rain as it is in the sun. Biking in the rain merely requires a good attitude, good rain gear, and some extra caution due to wet roads and reduced visibility.

Hiking and backpacking in wet conditions, however, requires almost a different mind and skill set than hiking and camping in drier conditions. I’ve written about camping in the rain before. It’s fun and an interesting challenge. But what about hiking? You can don your raingear and a pack cover and stay at least mostly dry, but that’s only part of the story.

Wet trails—even if it’s only from a heavy dew—are a vastly different world than dry trails. The biggest difference: wet makes things slippery. It doesn’t take much water on top of rocks, moss, loose forest duff or fallen leaves to make hiking tougher and more hazardous. This is particularly true in the spring when everything is generally wetter, anyway.

This may sound obvious but the first thing a wet trail forces you to do is slow down and pay attention to each step you take. A slip might be funny/embarrassing. Or it might leave you badly injured or even . . . well, it was most likely a slip on a wet rock that sent Christopher Baillie plunging over the Tuckerman Headwall to his death last July . . . You simply have to be more careful hiking when the trail is wet. Trekking poles make a real difference when the trail is wet.

That need for measured caution, in turn, means recalculating how far you can or want to hike in the time you have available. On wet trails, you might only be able to cover three miles in the time it would normally take you to hike five on dry. Though the days are longer now, you still don’t want to get caught on the trail after the sun goes down, even if you have a good light with you in your emergency kit. Take trail conditions into account when you plan your hike.

A few years ago, EasternSlopes.com Publisher David Shedd and I decided to see how far we could hike on the Monadnock-Sunapee Greenway in one day. We were hoping to do at least half of the 50+ miles and  started up Sunapee in the dark. We made good time to the summit, but just before sunrise a very heavy dew settled and made the grass, moss and rocks on top of Sunapee very slick. That forced us to slow to about half our normal pace. Even at the slower pace, watching our footing on every step was both challenging and tiring. The wet conditions were temporary; everything dried out a couple of hours after the sun rose, but we could have hiked more miles more easily had the trail been perfectly dry. But still, we were out hiking and having fun instead of staying home wishing things were different.

Bad Trail Etiquette: By trying to keep their feet dry avoiding a wet spot in the trail, these two hikers are making the trail worse. If you want to hike in wet conditions, be prepared to walk directly in water and mud. (Tim Jones photo)

Treat Trails With Respect

In the spring, when trails are really soggy whether it rains or not, the impact of water on your hiking increases by orders of magnitude. Simply put, you can do real damage to the trails you love to hike if you aren’t careful.

Some trail maintainers, notably the Green Mountain Club which maintains the Long Trail in Vermont, strongly urge hikers to stay off their hiking trails during the mud season of spring. You can’t blame them. Each step on a soggy trail can set the stage for erosion and other trail damage that they have to fix.

On the other hand, it’s possible to hike in the spring mud season without doing much, if any, damage. But you have to be conscientious and willing to stay in the center of the trail, step on rock when you can or directly into water and mud when you can’t. Yes, that often means hiking with wet feet, even if your boots are supposedly waterproof.

Sadly, trying to avoid getting your feet wet by straying off the side of the trail only increases the damage you do with each step. Some popular hiking trails are 20 feet wide in spots. That’s because people have tried to avoid stepping in puddles and mudholes, walk on the sides of the trail preparing the soil there for erosion. The mudhole expands and the trail just gets wider and wider.

How deep?: Here’s a very clear reminder why ankle-high waterproof boots don’t always your feet dry when hiking wet trails . . . (Tim Jones photo)

It’s up to each of us to minimize our impact every time we hike. In other words, if you are going to go out hiking in the spring, especially in the rain, be prepared, at least, to get your feet wet. Wet boots may not be fun, but hiking with wet feet is definitely better than staying home!

Wet Feet Or Not?

Choosing footgear is the real conundrum when hiking wet trails. Most people think they need waterproof boots. Some hikers just figure their feet are going to get wet anyway and choose breathable, non-waterproof boots that dry quickly. Personally, I don’t think the choice of waterproof or not is nearly as important as having a bootsole with lots of traction. I’d rather have wet feet than slip with every step.

If it’s cold, I’ll try to keep my feet dry, often using waterproof/breathable socks over my cushioning hiking socks inside my boots. My favorites are Canadian Army issue, but I’m testing some newer ones from Rocky Boots . They weigh nothing, help keep your feet dry whether your boors are waterproof or not, give you the ability to walk through shallow puddles and small streams with dry feet when necessary. Stay tuned for a full evaluation when I’ve had time to really test them . . .