The Long Trail Album

It’s been a year since John hiked the entire Long Trail. It took about three weeks to hike 272 miles along the mountain spine of Vermont, from the Massachusetts border up to the Canadian. (Read more about the trail and its history HERE.) I never posted any of the photos from his trip, but I thought a year’s anniversary would be a perfect time, especially since he’s thinking about going back to hike at least part of it again, and I’ll be in Vermont in a few weeks myself.

Friends sometimes ask why I didn’t hike with him, and the simple answer is: 1. There is no way I could keep up. (John is a runner and I barely get 5,000 steps a day, never mind with 20+ pounds of stuff on my back. (Oh yeah, and the HILLS!— the Long Trail is one the most difficult trails in the US) and 2. I just didn’t feel like spending three weeks hiking.

Instead, I played the role of resupply queen and occasional provider of transport to laundry and a shower. I was able to visit friends, stay at my favorite inn on Lake Champlain, and look up at the mountain ridges knowing John was a tiny dot somewhere…

We bought some trail food recipe books, and I mixed up various concoctions which he would then add boiling water to (they all sorta tasted the same though, he said), sending them off in care packages.

Shangri-la was McGrath’s, near Rutland, where he splurged on a hotel room and real meals.

For the first two resupplies he was able to hike down to a post office to pick up the packages I sent, but I picked him up myself the last few times— Hooooweee!— he was stinky and his feet were encased in mud. Here he is back at the trail after a shower, a good meal, and some laundry-doing…

Apparently there are a lot of ladders and serious climbs along the way. This view is looking UP…

He made a lot of trail friends on his hike, told me some wacky stories, was wondering if he’d see a bear but didn’t, and loved his time up there. I loved knowing that a place I called home for eleven years was giving him such a wonderful experience and taking good care of him. The Long Trail is special. It’s also the oldest long-distance hiking trail in the US. Yes the Appalachian Trail and the ones out west are longer and more well-known, but the Long Trail, like everything else about Vermont, has this un-commercial, undiscovered, mellow vibe.

John earned his official trail badge (which I really should sew onto his Eagle Scout sash!) upon sending in a record of his trip diary and is now a member of the Green Mountain Club. I admire him so much for deciding he wanted to take on something pretty hard-core and then not only making it happen but having a blast doing it. Cheers, babe! xo

More photos from his trip are posted HERE.

Breathing Room: Advice from Sherman

Sherman’s got it down. Napping with Snuffle Bear whenever he feels like it. I know there’s a lesson for me here. After the June whirlwind of getting ready for my exhibit and having the opening, it feels like I can finally take a breath again. Stop and look around. Oh yeah, I have a garden that’s wilting! And—oh yeah!—didn’t I used to sew my own clothes and play the ukulele and read books?

Prepping for the show took such blinders-on focus that left a lot of other things behind. I know people who seem to be able to go full-speed-ahead without going crazy, but I wind up either getting sick or having a bit of a mental meltdown. *sigh*

There is still what seems a huge amount of things to do to keep Flying Adventures moving forward, and there’s a LOT I didn’t get done before the show, even with all the time in the world to prepare. I kick myself for procrastinating on things I shouldn’t have, etc etc. Why do we beat ourselves up for stuff like this? There’s always going to be more you could have done, no matter how much you DID do! Grrrr.

Back in school, there were the kids who planned way ahead for their projects and papers and seemed on top of that whole process. Then there were the last-minuters who either managed to cobble something passable together, or who practically killed themselves to get a top grade. I always found myself in the camp somewhere in between the planners and the procrastinators. I don’t want to think of a project all semester long, but I don’t want to wait until the last minute either.

Unfortunately my middle of the road approach never worked because I’d either underestimate how long it would take to do the various tasks on the list, or I would constantly recalibrate the schedule based on how much time was left. Who wants to be done early just to sit around & wait, right?? I always seem to want to slide in right on the deadline. Unfortunately this doesn’t leave room for the inevitable disaster, delay, or needed day off, and winds up giving me reasons to get down on myself later for all that I didn’t finish. It’s really self-sabotage disguised as some false sense of mastery over time management.

I think I’m finally done with that. I need to be more mindful when I’m planning, leave breathing room, and, yes, even finish early if that’s what happens. Some creative people feel more creative when they’re pushing time limits, but I’m finally realizing it just stresses me out. I need to take my cue from the Sherm. If I can’t have a nap or play ukulele or sew a new dress or read a book while working on a big project, something’s wrong.

Exhibition Weekend

I still can’t really believe that finally, after ten years since my original flying adventure with Ryan, the creative project that sprung from it, that begun as a thank-you gift for my friend and evolved into something bigger than a single book, is now hanging on the walls of a museum. (!)

The show opening was wonderful. Friends came from all over, Traci and my brother flew up from Florida, my incredibly supportive neighbors made the drive, even my accountant made an appearance. “So THIS is what you do!” he said.

I even signed my first flyer autograph! (What ?! — So weirdly wonderful!) Yes it was for someone I know, but it’s going in a frame and being hung next to a Patty Wagstaff poster! What an honor — thank you Dan!

A festive dinner followed the opening reception and then the next day was spent, fittingly, at the airport, where John gave airplane rides until dusk. A perfect ending to a perfect weekend.

I have to say, I am pretty proud of myself for not giving up on this project after so many years, and for being willing to let it become what it wanted to be in its own time. And, of course, I am thankful and grateful:

To Ryan for the magic, to Swan and the encouragement of our photo group friends, to Jace Graf for the amazing bookbinding weekend, to the Ohio Arts Council and the Greater Columbus Arts Council for awards and grant funding, to the Springfield Museum of Art for saying yes, to Vicki & Tom for the studio space, to my family and special friends, and to my husband John, for not only teaching me how to fly but for becoming my lifelong adventure friend.