Mount Adams

Do you ever get the itchy urge to do something extreme?  I do.  I get this drive to do something that kicks my butt and, at the time of doing, tends to be a miserable sufferfest.  But when all is said and done I can just feel totally, unselfishly awesome.  And I can think back on the glory days as I sit at a desk in Boise click-clicking on hundreds of squiggly trails I did not walk with features I never saw. 

Last weekend four of us planned an excursion to Washington to climb up Mt. Adams.  Last year I did trailwork on the PCT at the foot of Adams.  The mountain was our constant backdrop during work and in camp.  At night the full moon lit up the glaciers to ignite an alpine glow.  The idea of climbing up the mountain was intimidating and awesome.  Adams rises like a beast out of a rather subtle landscape in southern WA, giant, snow-covered, and 12,276 ft tall.  We drove to Washington on Friday and arrived after dark.  In the morning we could see Adams looming through the trees in our campsite.  We quickly ate breakfast and packed our bags and started on our way to hike the mountain.

“You and 220 others.”  The forest service lady was quite frank with us as she filled us in on the essentials: Drive slow to the trailhead, the road is single-lane most of the time and people drive too fast around blind curves.  Do not descend to the southwest, you will get hopelessly lost in trees.  Melting snow is the only way to get water at the lunch counter (base camp).  You share camp with hundred of others, some who do not dispose of their waste properly, so boil your water to avoid contracting an exotic disease.  Here are your WAG bags.  Use them.  Do not glissade with your crampons on, you will break a leg.  Be careful of cornices or you will find yourself taking the very quick way to the bottom.  She was lovely.  Once we had our permits and our map we drove that crazy mountain road to the trailhead.

Our boots hit the trail by 10:30.  It was pretty rough from that moment on.  The unfortunate thing about climbing up a mountain is that… it’s all up.  There is really no relief.  So we went up.  Up into the snow that relentlessly reflected the sun so our skin was exposed in every possible place.  The underside of my nose has never been so abused.  When we felt like we were nearing Lunch Counter (our base camp for the night) we started asking people on their way down about how far we were…. the first guy said 800 feet.  About 20 minutes on, the second guy said 900 feet.  The third guy, a bit further on, told us 1,000 feet. These were not comforting predictions.  At that point I just put my head down and walked.  We made it to Lunch Counter at about 3 pm.

UP!

View of Mt Hood from our tent

Mountain shadow

Melting snow for water

We found a cozy place to set up tents.  There are lots of rock wind-barriers set up, so we snagged a few of those and when the tents were up we climbed in a laid down flat for a good while with our boots off.  Too soon we had to get up and start the process of melting snow for drinking water the next day.  It took forever. 

We went to bed with the sun because we planned to get up at 3 am to continue to the top.  Unfortunately at 3 am the wind was howling and the tents were flapping like mad tethered birds trying to take flight.  It was not the sort of morning that gets you out of your sleeping bag easily.  So we reconsidered.  Set the alarm for 5 and tried to keep sleeping despite the racket.  At 5 nothing much had changed, but after peeking out the tent and seeing clear blue skies we decided we better get a move on.  We got some coffee and food in our bellies and got all decked out in gaiters, crampons, ice axes, hats and gloves, and sunglasses.   

The morning was just one step at a time.  I was just reciting to myself, “step.  step.  ice axe.” repeat.  It was a good rhythm.  Right before we got to the false summit (the think that looks like the top of the mountain, till you get there and realize the top of the mountain is still a good ways off) we were surrounded by swirling cloud wisps.  

clouds found us

Nothing too bad, but we couldn’t see too much in our immediate surroundings.  And we definitely could not see the view or the real summit.  But we’d come so far, so further we went!  To the summit!  We made it around 11 am.  It was very cold and very windy.  No view to speak of.  But it was exhilarating.  We took some pictures and ate a nearly frozen pb&j and then scurried back down to warmth and sunshine. 

Toji, Dave, Me, and Christina on top of a mountain

weeee! and now I'm ready to return to the safe life I remember at 2,000 feet

The decent was more of an amusement park ride.  There was a glissade chute that took you down about 2000 feet from the false summit back to lunch counter.  You just sit your butt down in the chute, position your ice axe for braking, and ZOOM.  You fly down that hill. 

Our trip ended with a beer and a burger in Hood River and a seven hour drive with 5 people, 5 packs, and plenty of miscellaneous gear in a tiny Honda civic.  We got back into Boise at 4 am.  It was great.  I plan on climbing more mountains as soon as possible.

 

Or-y-gon, Californ-i-ya, and Idy-ho!

This July I was sent to inventory trails in Oregon, with a little dip into northern California for a few refuges on the border, and one refuge in Idaho before we landed at home.  Being that this hitch was relatively close to Idaho, Toji and I didn’t have to book flights anywhere and instead just picked up our rental minivan in the morning, packed it full of our bags of things and cases of technology, a stove, tents, a cooler of food and a box of dry goods, our bikes, and the four-foot level.  It was a full load, and despite both of our tendencies to be rather disorganized, we didn’t lose anything.  With the doors slammed closed we took to the road and drove to our first refuge, Malheur NWR, in eastern Oregon.  The high, hot desert.  We camped about in the middle of the 40-mile long refuge and got to see one of those clear desert sunsets and moon-rises.

            Between Malheur and the CA refuges we drove through Bend, OR for an important Deschutes brewery tour.  We spent one night in Deschutes National Forest cozied up with mosquitoes and hit Crater Lake NP in the morning.  We only had time for one hike.  The park had lots of snow still, and we couldn’t get to the top of the hike we were doing, but we managed to get up to the rim by making our own path through the snow.  It is beautiful.

Toji at Crater Lake

            The first three refuges (Malhuer in Oregon and Tule Lake and Lower Klamath in California) were all hot and dry.  While we worked at Tule Lake and Lower Klamath we got to stay in Lava Beds National Monument.  Once we set up our camp we pulled our bikes out of the van and rode around to see some caves.  Lava Beds has all these lava tubes that are totally undeveloped besides a staircase down into them.  Once you get down there it gets very dark, very cold, and very quiet.  There are lots of passage ways off the main route that make you think about what it would be like to get lost in that dark, cold silence.  We turned off our headlamps and sat quietly until my mind started to wander into thoughts I didn’t want to have down there.  So we flipped our lights back on and felt a little better, but turned around anyway.  One that we went into was called Gold Dome and the walls and ceiling were covered with this wet gold/silvery fungus that sparkled like a room with gold-flecked walls. 

Skull Cave is giant

We stayed in Lava Beds for a couple nights and then drove to Redwoods National Park for the weekend.  Both times I’ve been to Redwoods I’ve been coming out of the desert, and that makes me appreciate all the green, moist forest even more.  We took a few hikes, craning our necks to see the tops of those giant trees.  We sort of accidentally ended up hiking from the 101 all the way down to the ocean.  So much downhill… the entire time all I could think was so much uphill.  But it was worth it.  We popped out right on the Pacific.  And the uphill wasn’t even that bad.

Following our weekend we had work at three refuges on the Oregon coast and one outside of Corvallis.  William L. Finley NWR was outside of Corvallis in the Williamette River Valley and had lots of work.  We stayed there for a few nights in a trailer.  The refuge was beautiful and the trails were actually trails!  There was also poison oak everywhere but we so far seem to have escaped untouched.  Our contact at the refuge was very friendly and ended up interviewing us for the refuge newsletter.

We spent our second weekend in Portland staying with Toji’s cousin.  We ended up pitching our tent in his backyard for a few reasons, but maybe mostly because his cousin is in a rock band and it was just better/quieter in the yard.  We went and saw his band play a show—they’re called Raremonk.  Look them up if you like rock.  We did lots of biking around the city.  I got to drink cup after cup of great coffee and go to Powells bookstore twice.  We bought raspberries and breakfast burritos at the farmers market.  And I caught up with one of my friends for a while.  It was a good time, although there was lots of rain.  Portland is a great city, but I was not really in a city mood, so when we drove out to the coast on Monday it was a relief. 

Our last coastal refuges were pretty ideal.  One trail led to a giant Sitka spruce, one led to the ocean shore, and the other ones all ended at nice scenic overlooks.  We visited the Tillamook cheese factory… it was on the way, twice.  We watched hundreds of giant blocks of cheese be cut down to baby loafs and wrapped up in their packaging.  Then we sampled all the cheese and then since the sample line shot us right out into the ice cream line, we had ice cream as well.  It was great.  Also an alarming display of fat Americans in bad dress eating cubes of cheese and over-sized ice cream cones.  Sorry to be brutal; just reporting what I saw.

            We finished all of our scheduled work a bit early so we rather leisurely made our way back to Idaho.  We drove through the Columbia River Gorge and stopped at Maltnomah Falls.  We stayed near Hood River for a night and did a big hike in the gorge before driving further toward Idaho.  We ended our hitch at Deer Flat NWR in Nampa, ID.  Only 45 minutes from home. 

Overlooking the Columbia River Gorge from Dog Mountain

            It was a grand tour of Oregon.  Being home has never felt quite so good as it does now.  Fortunately I am a Boise office peon next hitch, meaning I get to sleep in the same bed every night.  At the cost of staring at the same computer screen every day.  But I am willing.  It’s HOT in Boise.  But we have our ways… on Wednesday we left work a bit early to float the Boise river.  We rented four tubes and two rafts and jumped in the cool, cool river.  Then you just relax and try to not hit trees on the riverside as you float to the takeout about an hour and a half downriver.  There seems to be hundreds of people floating the river everyday here… it’s a fantastic way to escape the heat.

            This weekend we’ll trade Boise heat for Washington snow.  Five of us are going to attempt to stand on top of Mount Adams… 12,500 ft up in the sky. 

            I’ll try to write another post while I’m in Boise.  My days will be filled with linear referencing, the oddly satisfying but totally intangible job of measuring the distance of each feature point we take from its respective trailhead.  And cleaning up the massive mess of data we have created for ourselves.  When my mind becomes too boggled by little numbers that are supposed to match little lines and little dots on my computer screen, I will find relief in writing a little update.

Eating the Northeast

This hitch was all about eating… or so it seemed most of the time.  The northeast happens to make some of my favorite foods—pizza, ice cream, and cheese—in their most delicious form.  New York style pizza, Ben and Jerry’s ice cream, Vermont cheese.  And then there were the whoopie pies, lobster, crab cakes, beer, and Vietnamese food in upstate New York, thanks to Xuan’s mother who cooked us egg rolls, chicken wings, and Vietnamese lettuce rolls when we visited her family in upstate NY.  And then there were the Dunkin’ Donuts, where I encountered the best Boston accents listening to people order their donut and coffee.  I also had the best cup of coffee that I’ve had in probably six months, in Portland, ME.  It was a latte that tasted like it had molasses in it. 

This post would most accurately reflect the hitch if I talked about food for 80% of the time, work for 15%, and off-time recreating for 5% (most of our off-time recreating is included in food discussions).  It may turn out that way.

at work. The Presidential Range in NH as our backdrop

We flew into Boston on the 6^th of June.  The first few nights Xuan and I stayed with her friend just outside of the city.  Our first few refuges were in northern MA—Parker River NWR and Thacher Island NWR.  Parker River was a beautiful refuge right on the coast  where we needed to inventory several beach-access boardwalks.  Thacher Island was a small island about a 15-minute boat ride from the coast.  It has two lighthouses on it and lots of aggressive gulls that wanted to peck our heads, or at least deafen us with their squawking.  We were finally grateful for the otherwise horrible and inconvenient four-foot-level, and were comforted that we could at least beat the gulls off if they went for our heads. 

Thacher Island NWR

When we finished with Massachusetts we drove up into Maine, where our first stop was Rachel Carson NWR.  The coast of Maine is quite lovely.  Lots of typical New England style houses whose inhabitants I imagine wearing seer-sucker and digging for clams.  I didn’t actually see that happening though.  We were shown the Bush (Sr) mansion on the coast—it’s very big and well protected. 

The last refuge we inventoried before the weekend was Petit Manan, which is happily right near Acadia National Park.  We were able to use a FWS camper on Schoodic Peninsula (a part of the park) for the weekend.  It was really lucky—the Schoodic Peninsula is a beautiful but less-visited part of the park.  It also started raining halfway through the weekend, so the shelter was nice.  We spent the weekend hiking in the park with Toji and Stefano who drove up from their work in MA for the weekend.  Rain moved in on Sunday so we slept in to the sound of rain drops and then had a lazy day that mostly involved driving to get lobster, eating lobster, driving back home, and sleeping off the rain and lobster. 

climbing around in Acadia

green rocks at Acadia

Toji and Stefano with lobster and hamburgers

Xuan and I with our lobster and crabcakes

The Lobster dinner was something Xuan and I had been scheming about in our trip-planning.  We decided we’d eat oatmeal for breakfast, ph&j for lunch, and beans and rice for dinner EVERY day so we could afford the lobster experience.  We did it too, without eating the same thing every day either.  Dunkin’ Donuts has lots of flavors of donuts.

Alright, so from Acadia we continued up the coast to Calais, ME.  Right on the Canadian border.  We actually almost got in the line at customs to pass into Canada, luckily there is a gas station to pull into for those that get cold feet.  We did end up going into Canada for a jaunt.  We thought we’d visit the city of St. John in New Brunswick, but then decided it was too far to drive, so we just took a little Canadian detour on our way to Baxter State Park.  Unfortunately we looked suspicious, I mean, we were “”randomly selected” at customs for a full search.  Half-an-hour later and one bag of clementines lighter, we were released back into the US.  Phew.  Our plan was to hike Mt. Katahdin.  Katahdin is the highest peak in Maine and the northern terminus of the Appalachian Trail.  We hiked it and it was a killer hike.  Both for the awesome view and knife-edge ridge at the top, and for the near-vertical hike.  We were in quite some pain for days after. 

We made it! Now to go back down.

The knife-edge ridge

For our second weekend we made a rather epic drive from Maine to upstate New York where Xuan’s family lives.  She wanted to make it home for her nephew’s first birthday party.  And I got to eat lots of delicious Vietnamese food.  Xuan’s family is pretty big- she has two sisters and two brothers, and they have their significant others, plus two little boys and the mama and the papa.  These very petit people can eat a LOT of food.  When we weren’t eating it was only because the food had run out, or we were driving to eat more food, or we were waiting as Xuan’s mom fried up more food in the kitchen.  And if I wasn’t eating and there was food available, then Xuan’s very sweet mother who spoke little English would worry that I was hungry and why don’t I go into the kitchen and eat something.  There’s plenty!  So I did.

The third and final week we traveled though northern Vermont and New Hampshire. The parts we were in were very rural—very few chain stores, and old-fashioned gas stations with old non-digital pumps and wheels of cheese on display in glass cases.  Plenty of mosquitoes and deer flies though.  We had to visit the Ben and Jerry’s factory of course.  And buys some fine Vermont cheese.  The contact at Silvio O. Conte NWR told us how he makes his own maple syrup.  It’s refreshingly different up there.  I would like to have more time to explore the towns. 

Next month I'll be in Oregon and just barely in California for a few nor cal hitches.  

There's no place like home

Well, I'm home.  I mean, I'm in the midwest, so home...ish.  But not my homehome in Viroqua.  To clarify, I'm in Minneapolis, a city I know well enough it feels familiar.  I spent this past hitch working at sites around Minnesota with one brief foray into northern Wisconsin. Myself and my coworker, Stefano, are both from the area, so although it's not exactly exciting to survey prairie pothole trails (sorry--prairies and wetlands are wonderful, but the grasslands are kind of dead and barren right now), we were glad to see family earlier than expected.

We started in the very southwestern-most county of the state and work our way up the western border before edging in near to the Twin Cities and then to the northwest and finally east into Wisconsin.  I actually saw a surprising amount of wildlife-- I think it can be easy to become
disenchanted by the place you grew up in, especially when that place is the midwest, which is referred to too often as the "fly-over zone." Respect, please.  However, I have even given into that stereotype and expected nothing more than prairies and mosquitoes from this hitch. But I was lucky to see a rattlesnake (what?! I thought nothing deadly lived in these parts!), some cutie-pie river otters that snorted at us in attempts to frighten us, but instead garnered more of a cooing.  We saw a Sandhill Crane, a porcupine, and the coolest of all, we saw two black bear cubs at the Iron River Fish Hatchery.  awwwww they were SO CUTE!  I think I can gush more over bear cubs and panther babies than I can puppies and kittens.  You should look up baby panthers- they are deadly cute.

okay, I did it for you.  This is a baby Florida panther

We heard some fine midwestern accents.  We got hit with swarms of the first hatching of mosquitoes, but only for one night while camping, luckily, as the mosquito swarms prompt pbj dinners eaten while pacing and batting your arms madly.  Also they force you into your tent by 7 pm.  We went through tick hell, each of us regularly removing armies of ticks that marched up our pant legs after every trail that was at all grassy.  After such trails Stefano and I would look at our legs, look at each other, and, after removing as many as possible, head to the nearest gas station for a more comprehensive search. Ugh.  Ticks are truly zits on the earth- I wish I could incinerate every one I find.

We didn't take a whole lot of off time since we were focused on front-loading our schedule in order to make it home for a bit of time. But we did have a few down days.  One day we decided it would be cool to check out the North Country Scenic Trail, a trail that will stretch from North Dakota to New York when completed.  I've certainly had thoughts about hiking sections of it (I believe it is supposed to be close to 4,000 miles long) so I figured it would be good to test it out.  Well.  I'm NOT going to be hiking that trail anytime soon. Ticks, mosquitoes, ahem, no nice scenic vistas... we turned around after hiking about a mile.  Wimps, maybe.  But I spent four months working on the Pacific Crest Trail in WA, OR, and CA and land that trail goes through is unbelievable.  Now that trail is worth your sweat and tears.  In my opinion, of course.  Now I admit, I am probably a bit of a trail snob at this point.  So, that which we thought would be cool was not.  No matter.  After a quick gas station tick check we were back in the truck to go to our next mosquito-infested campsite.

This hitch, being back in the midwest, has prompted me to think more about my home--what is home for me.  The last time I packed up to leave Boise I was voicing my hopes that in a couple hitches I'll be
able to pack my bag in ten minutes flat.  Ready to fly cross-country in ten minutes or less.  Everything I need and want contained in a duffel and a cooler.  Wait-- everything I need, not everything I want.  Ever since I graduated college I've moved from place to place, starting in Alaska, the southern California, New Jersey, Washington, Oregon, and California again, now Boise, and, briefly, Arizona and Florida.  I know what I need but I'm starting to realize more and more, and miss more and more, the things I want.  Maybe that's a good lesson: to learn what you need, and then to fill in the gaps where you are missing those things you want.  For the longest time I traveled without a pillow... no room for such a luxury in my bag.  Well, not anymore!  Pillow comes with me-- and it's not a special camping pillow either.  It has a pillowcase. 

The most permanent address I've held since college lasted 8 months-- in southern CA.  But I wasn't there half the time.  And my bed was a foam pad on the floor.  Now my bed is the couch- at least in Boise. Wait, shouldn't I be moving up in the world?  I feel like a real mattress (maybe on the floor) is a good next step.  I think probably the most prominent thing missing from my travel duffel is the people
I've met and come to really appreciate in my travels. 

Right now I don't have a home, but I can find it in the people I am with.  Sometimes that person is myself.

I already posted this photo, but that's my mobile home... the blue tent.  Nick is by the tent, and that's Toji on his sleeping bag

In about a week I am off to Maine, Vermont, New Hampshire, and Massachusetts.

The Sunshine State

 I’m back.  Returned to Boise after three weeks of working nearly the entire coast of Florida, and the southern bits of Alabama and Mississippi as well.

It was a grand hitch—Mike and I became quite knowledgeable on the best beaches, we ate some TWO-time world-championship-winner clam chowder, hiked bits of the Florida National Scenic Trail, visited the capital in Tallahassee, went to Everglades National Park, saw alligators and lots of birds, and, oh yeah, we worked.

We started just east of Orlando on Merritt Island.  The refuge is adjacent to the NASA space shuttle launch area, making it rather unique in it’s placement to protect wildlife.  We hiked two trails there and got our first taste of Florida’s mosquitoes.  Those guys are fierce!  We heard stories from people who worked at the refuge about how back in the old days, before mosquito control techniques existed, cattle would die of suffocation because they couldn’t breath for all the mosquitoes at their nostrils.  What??  Now they have ways to minimize the bugs by controlling water levels and, in some places, spraying.  Hmmm…  We were able to stay in a really nice bunkhouse on the refuge for our two nights there.  We shared with two other girls currently interning at the refuge but still got our own rooms and a bed each!  I found that accommodations on hitch tend to be much fancier than here in Boise, where I share a room with two girls and sleep on an air mattress (that now deflates every night as I sleep on it).

Merritt Island also happens to be adjacent to Cape Canaveral National Seashore.  So we wasted no time heading to the beach after work.

After Merritt Island was wrapped up we drove south a few hours to Hobe Sound, another coastal refuge.  It was at Hobe Sound that we encountered our first trail that literally led us to the beach.  It was a dreamy trail—popping us right out onto a white sandy stretch with warm water lapping at our feet.  Also there were no bugs and far less humidity.  Other people have also realized this piece of paradise and the nearby Jupiter Island is apparently home to many celebrities, including Tiger Woods. 

Once we finished at Hobe Sound we decided we would check out the refuge’s other beach…since we were there anyway.  The picture says it all, but it was beautiful.  I also got to jump in to the Atlantic and play in the waves.

When we’d soaked up enough sun and saltwater we headed further south and west to Florida Panther NWR, which is kind of nestled in between the Everglades and Big Cypress National Preserve.  We stayed in a very nice mobile home at the work center—it had air conditioning.  We worked on Florida Panther and Ten Thousand Islands refuges the next day.  Florida Panther houses up to 15 panthers, but we saw none.  Our contact gave us warnings of rattlesnake with rattles as loud as a chainsaw, bears in trees, 11-foot alligators, and poison ivy EVERYwhere.  We encountered none of those things, except we did see some alligators along one trail. 

Since we were already so close to the Everglades we took our weekend there.  We drove to the furthest south campground first and did some hiking and exploring there.  It was cool, but really, very buggy.  The mosquitoes and no-see-ums were out of control.  Mike and I went on a hike and it was really miserable—mosquitoes swarming the entire way.  We ran back with heads down and I tied a handkerchief around my nose and mouth and neck.  Back at camp we made dinner with no-see-ums taking bites.  It was really miserable.  Mike and I took to our tents as soon as dinner was over.  Nice,, hot tents and sticky sleeping bags.  The next day we canoed in the bay- that was great.  No bugs, first and foremost, and I’ve never canoed in the ocean before!  I wanted to jump in but they said there are sharks, so keep your fingers and toes out of the water!

The Everglades... river of grass

Mike in the canoe

Mangrove Tree

Mike and I decided we couldn’t handle another night like the last, so we drove north to the other campground to see if things were better there.  They were.  We could actually sit outside and play cards and eat dinner like normal people.

Sunset in the Pine Flatwoods, Everglades

The following day we decided since we were so close anyway we would check out the Keys.  We didn’t drive all the way down, but we went as far as a state park and enjoyed their beach for a bit.  I also got a delicious key-lime milkshake.

After the weekend we started our journey north, on the gulf coast of Florida.  Monday was a hard day… had to take one point on Sanibel Island which happens to have, yes, an amazing beach.  So after the point was taken we headed to the water.  Once we’d taken full advantage of the seashore we got back into the car and drove about 4 hours north to Chassahowitzka NWR.  We were put up in a trailer/RV there—I’ve never stayed in an RV before! So that was kind of fun, for a night.  The trails at Chass were also abundant in mosquitoes.  We worked all morning and then drove back to the trailer to work on the data.  On the drive back we were just exhausted—I felt like I’d just been through an epic battle.  It was traumatizing.  Especially for Mike—the bugs LOVE Mike.  And he hates them more than most people I know.

From Chassahowitzka we carried on north to Lower Suwannee NWR.  We camped at a nice campground on the water and took the refuge ranger’s advice and had dinner in the town of Cedar Keys, where they serve up world famous clam chowder.  YUM!  The area where Lower Suwannee is has many archeological sites from the Native Americans that lived there long ago.  They built these massive “shell mounds”—since they relied so much on seafood for their diet, they would collect and crack open oysters (or whatever shell-dwellers they found) and threw the shells into a big pile.  Kind of like we throw all of our garbage into a big pile.  Only theirs actually helped them out.  They would create pile so large they created high ground to protect from storm surges, and now there are whole forests that grow on the mounds.  But you can still see shell fragments everywhere.

St. Marks was our last refuge where we had work planned.  The refuge is just south of Tallahassee in the panhandle.  We shared a trailer there with another SCA intern who happily showed us around the area (the best beach and such).  We had planned on there being 4 days of work on the refuge, but it turned out there was only two days.  We hiked about 15 miles of the Florida National Scenic Trail, documenting new features and deficiencies and one new trail section.  It’s a cool trail- very dense and actually not much of a trail in many places.  You have to keep a constant eye out for the orange blazes on the trees so you don’t loose the trail.  At St Marks we were introduced to Florida ticks.  We’d been told they were bad, but I thought I understood what bad meant.  I’ve been to New Jersey.  However, this was a new level.  We started our day on the trail—took about ten steps in and I looked down at my ankles and about 10 ticks were already making a beeline up my leg.  We made a big hubbub about it and figured we’d managed to walk right through a nest of them or something.  But no, that’s just how the trail was.  ALL THE WAY.  I stopped flicking them off—it was hopeless.  We had to spend about 45 minutes after work de-ticking ourselves and then showering and quarantining our clothes.  Mike ended up with about ten embedded in his ankles.  Having never even seen a tick before, that was a little traumatic.

So that was St. Marks; it’s a ticky place.  We also took in the city of Tallahassee while we were there and learned some Florida history.  Tallahassee is interesting because it is very hilly- sort of like a miniaturized San Francisco.  This is odd because the rest of Florida rises and falls about 3-4 feet in total (an exaggeration, but also kind of true in the southern portion.) 

We spent Easter at the refuge and left early Monday morning for our new work assignments in Alabama and Mississippi!  Since we cruised on through our work in Florida there was some rescheduling so we didn’t just hang out on the beach for the last week.  This was just fine with me and Mike since we were heading in the direction of New Orleans anyways, where we had a concert to go to on Wednesday.  Our first stop was Bon Secour NWR, on the Gulf shores of Alabama.  We’d been told the work there was light, so that’s what we prepared ourselves for.  There ended up being a good six miles of trails to walk and plenty of new features to mark down.  It was okay though because one of the trails led us directly into the waves of the gulf on the most beautiful beach I think I have ever seen in my life (yep, in Alabama. who knew?)

We HAD to go to the beach!

Unfortunately there was no time to dilly-dally, but it was locked in my mind as a place to return to soon.  We finished up late at Bon Secour and made dinner in the parking lot before driving up through Mobile and into Mississippi.  We camped in a state park where we were joined by team Alpha: Toji and Christina. 

We split refuges the next day with those two.  Mike and I worked at Grand Bay when it wasn’t pouring buckets and threatening to strike us down with lightening.  Once we finished we were officially DONE with our work in the Southeast.  And now for the real fun… the Railroad Revival concert in New Orleans with Old Crow Medicine Show, Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, and Mumford and Sons.

The next morning we drove two hours into the city.  I was not expecting to love New Orleans like I do now… I LOVE it.  I am obsessed with the idea of moving there. 

Lots of Mardi Gras beads strung up on gates and fences

I love the color and style of the houses

First on our agenda (well, for three of us) was to see a cello octet play at the university.  It was really good—and it’s not often you get to see eight cellos play together.  Then we wandered the streets a little and saw the French Quarter and a bit of Bourbon Street.  I had a muffaletta sandwich which is a New Orleans classic with lots of ham and cheese and olives.  Time soon came to head in the direction of the concert, which was in a park on the Mississippi.  The concert was simply fantastic.  Seeing Old Crow is something I’ve been wanting ever since I first started listening to them.  And they did not disappoint.  There were a TON of people at the concert and it is very hot in that city.  So being crammed in with a bunch of other hot, sweaty people, in a city that is already hot and sweaty was… very very hot and sweaty.  But luckily the music was good enough to not care.

We spent the next day wandering the city a bit more before we had to begin our drive back east.  There is so much to see and do in that city.  The art and music and culture and FOOD are all so important and prevalent in the city.  I can’t really say much more except that I love it… and I only spent one night there.

Seafood Muffaletta!

We left in the afternoon and camped nearby that beach I mentioned earlier—the prettiest one ever.  And the next morning we woke up and went directly there so I could enjoy it properly with my swimsuit on, crashing around in the waves.  We couldn’t stay for too long; we had places to be and sunburn to avoid.  We had to drive to Orlando to be prepared for our morning flight back to Boise. 

We drove and drove and drove to our hotel where we unloaded the truck and went to return it.  Returned it with a grand total of 3,100 miles on it.  Sheesh.  We packed ourselves up and went to bed for one last night in Florida.  Now I am home in Boise for one week before I head to my next exciting destination… … …MINNESOTA!  Which means I can also go home (my real home) for a few days. 

It’s good to be back.  Let my bug bites die away and my sunburn heal.  The poison ivy I apparently infected myself with is showing up all over me which is really great.  Boise is looking even more springy—lots of flowering trees and tulips popping up.  On Monday I fly to Minneapolis!