A Winter's Tale

Many years ago, I had a rule for outdoor activity: I would not leave my home when the temperature was lower than my age. This served me well for a while, but as middle age encroached, it became untenable. However, I still stubbornly refused to set foot on a trail – or even a sidewalk – that was covered in snow or ice. I could fall, hurt myself, be out of commission during the months that were actually enjoyable. No, thank you. I’ll stay home by the fire.

Then one day we were out for a drive and decided to stop for a geocache. Though the temperature did not suit my criteria, I reluctantly got out of the car and started down the trail until we came upon a patch of ice. As usual, I stopped abruptly. But I wasn’t happy about it. I wanted what was on the other side, dammit! That was when my husband (Mr. Alphadog) remembered the ice cleats he’d bought years ago to use when shoveling snow. He suggested I might want to try them, and I tentatively agreed that this might be a good idea. Especially after he ended up getting the cache while I slunk back to wait in the car.

That first pair of ice cleats was pretty clunky and uncomfortable, but Mr. A began perusing the catalogs and soon discovered that Eddie Bauer sold something called “Yaktrax” and he ordered us some. The rest, as they say, is history. Today we are the proud owners of several pairs of Yaktrax as well as Stabilicers (L.L. Bean’s entry into the category) and a nasty pair of Kahtoola Micro Spikes that resemble tire chains and can double as a lethal weapon should we encounter something sinister in the woods.

Strapping those little babies on my feet, I suddenly felt like I could walk on anything without breaking my fool neck! Having this mobility led me to my next quest: clothing that kept me from freezing my butt off. And then suddenly I discovered a whole new world of winter-worthy brands and fabrics: Polartec. Underarmour. Gore-Tex. It really was true that there was no such thing as bad weather, just the wrong clothes! We added foot and hand warmers to our arsenal, as well as Thermacare Heat Wraps for those especially chilling days. And we discovered that turning our water bottles upside down prevented them from freezing solid when the temperature dipped into the single digits.

Even deep snow no longer stopped us. We bought snowshoes and shovels, sought out rail trails and learned the many advantages of following in someone else’s footsteps … literally … when caching after a snowstorm. Plus, there weren’t any bugs. Sweat didn’t pour into our eyes. And even bushwhacking – that most despised summertime pursuit – was easy and enjoyable. 

But most of all, I learned to love the peace and serenity of a winter hike. Being the first one on the trail after a snowfall. Feeling the crisp cold air, hearing the crunch of snow underfoot and seeing evidence of the wildlife trying to survive another New England winter. Not to mention gaining a new appreciation for the “winter-friendly” attribute and accurate coordinates whenever shovels were involved!

                                                                                               Photo by Joe Aveni

So do I love winter now? Well, let’s just say we have reached a state of détente. It will likely never be my favorite time of year. I still mourn the early loss of light. I still count the days till the grass turns green and the crocuses pop their heads out of the soil. And I inevitably whine and complain when the first (and second and third) snowflake falls. But once out the door and on the trail, my perspective changes, and I can honestly say that I enjoy all four seasons again.

                                                                                                                                                                              Photo by Joe Aveni

The Agony & The Ecstasy of the Calendar Grid

The Agony & The Ecstasy of the Calendar Grid

I first heard people talking about their “grid” a couple of years ago, and had no clue what they were referring to. Then I was introduced to the Devil’s Spawn (a.k.a. the statistics page) and things were never the same again.

For those geocachers who have led a thus-far sheltered life, let me introduce you to the first of two basic grids: the Calendar Grid. 

This innocuous-looking figure shows how many caches we have found on every day of the year. I first became aware of this grid in 2012, a leap year, when there was a great deal of buzz in the geocaching communities on Facebook and elsewhere about seizing the opportunity to grab a cache – and get a souvenir – on February 29. Before this, despite having cached since 2003, I had not paid any heed to such things. But suddenly it seemed terribly important not to miss this chance that would not come around again for four years. So we dutifully headed out to “Quickies #2 – Spread Your Limbs” (http://www.geocaching.com/seek/log.aspx?LUID=70dc63af-e9be-4554-ae55-461045c96c5e).

As you can read in our log, we hurried there in the morning because there was a threat of snow and ice later in the day. 

We should have heeded this clear warning.

Instead, the idea of filling in all the calendar days began to rattle around in our heads … well, in my head anyway. My husband and caching partner tried very hard to dissuade me from what he immediately identified as a foolhardy plan. But my powers of persuasion finally got the best of him (as did my whining), and by the end of 2012, we had added “Fill in Calendar Grid” to our list of New Year’s resolutions.

Like all good resolutions, however, within a week we had blown it, with both of us sick as (Alpha)dogs. It would have been easy – and perhaps prudent –to heed the second clear warning and abandon the quest at that point. But no … 

We decided it wasn’t so bad to have to make up those two days early the following year, and we resolutely marched on.

And thus we discovered our uncanny ability to predict bad weather with the mere mention of a missing calendar day. Ice, rain, wind, heat, thunder – even a record-breaking blizzard with 36” of snow – all seemed to fall on the days we needed caches. At one point, we felt we would be offering a public service if we just broadcast our empty calendar days to the world at large so no one would plan any outdoor activities. At times we questioned our sanity. Like the evening of the blizzard when we raced out of the house once the roads were legally reopened, then waited out the snowplow in the Whole Foods parking lot so we could get to a lamp skirt cache. 

Without fail, the landscapers, the paving crew, the construction team and other various and sundry laborers would choose the same time as we did to work at any given cache location, particularly ones requiring stealth. Sometimes Mr. A got the job of grabbing a cache near work. Other times we got lucky and a calendar day landed on a weekend. But mostly we were awfully glad we’d kept an Ignore List of all the local caches we had no interest in finding. In the guardrails. Under the lamp skirts. At the fast food establishments. Because suddenly we were interested. Very interested! 

We learned important lessons over the course of the year: Don’t go for Dr. Evil caches on calendar days. Landscaping crews don’t really care if a middle-aged woman is examining a light pole. People put really creepy things in the woods in back of restaurants. 

And so we came around once again to January 2 and 3, 2014. Predictably, snow was falling, but we were prepared. We had scouted out our locations and readied our snow gear. We were relieved when there wasn’t as much snow either day as predicted. We found and logged two otherwise extremely forgettable caches. And when that last find was logged, we let out a great sigh of relief … and started looking at that Difficulty/Terrain Grid.