fire island, ny

As a child, my summer was defined by the weeks spent at Fire Island.   Early each morning, I ran down to the beach carefully taking each step of my stride to avoid splinters from the boardwalk.  As soon as I saw my father crossing the dune, I dove into the ocean and remained there for hours at a time. Barely able to see from the salt stinging my eyes, I repeatedly dove back in allowing my body to be rocked to and fro from the oncoming swells, anticipating the next wave solely by the rhythm of the ocean.   At the end of the day, my chest was heavy from the salt air and I would slowly make the trek back to the beach house.  We spent the evening storytelling attempting to postpone the inevitable deep sleep brought on from the exhaustion of the sea. 

I find the beach to be a source of rejuvenation; a place where the business of city and career can be temporarily forgotten as my focus is forced on the next set of waves.  Every chance I get, I make the journey across the Great South Bay and escape to the beach.  I have yet to grow tired of endless hours spent playing in the salty sea. 

This summer I was fortunate to have a short term subletter, enabling me to spend some quality time on Fire Island.  And fortunate for Grace, the beach house worked out with her life schedule so we made a date of it.  Two trains, a cab, and a ferry later, I met Grace at the dock and we set out for the sand and the sea. 

There’s something about the ocean that makes it impossible to not act like a 10 year old.  So we didn’t even try.  We gave in to the will of the sea and played with whoever would join us.  September may be trying to convince me that it’s fall but I’ll be out in ocean soaking up these last couple of weeks of summer.  Care to join?

note:

there are a number of beaches on fire island and each has its own charms 

- for the most amenities, check out the beaches closest to the western end of the island – particularly ocean beach 

- for the most solitude, check out the otis pike wilderness

isle au haut, me

For Labor Day weekend I wanted to escape the city one last time before the reality of autumn set in.  A newer friend and I hatched a plan for Maine a few weeks ago and before I knew it August was nearing its end.  We left early in the morning in an attempt to beat the holiday traffic and traveled 10+ hours to our destination.   Using mostly borrowed equipment, we quickly set up camp and set our sights on the weekend ahead of us. 

Isle au Haut is an island that’s part of Acadia National Park but you can only get there by the mail boat.  There are two stops – 1 mostly for the townspeople and 1 for visitors to the park. 

The day we went only 5 people were on the boat for the park: my friend, myself, another Brooklynite, and an older couple.  We were greeted at the dock by a park ranger who let us know the basics of the park (latrines, potable water, etc.) and also what to expect on the various trails.  She also cautioned us about poor footing and the potential for steep climbs, resulting in the paths taking longer than we might otherwise anticipate.   As she spoke, my mind could not help but wonder how the older couple would fair; I doubted their ability to make it through sections of park. At the end of our briefing, we all started off towards the various trailheads.  When the others stopped for a very important powdering of their noses, my friend and I veered off towards Duck Harbor Mountain. 

While it is only about 300 or so feet above sea level, the trail is comprised of many ups and downs.  We climbed up numerous rock faces only to slide down the other side and then repeat the whole process again.  I loved it. 

When we reached the end of the trail we were directly in front of Squeaker Cove.  We followed the trail for a bit but the lure of the pebbly coast led us to abandon the path and scramble over giant rocks once again.  Having gained some wisdom with my years (perhaps learned from experience with waterfalls and falling, maybe), we did eventually decide to stop hopping across the boulders lining the sea and follow the trail. 

Although we were back on a designated trail, the terrain remained rocky along the coast and full of tree roots in the woods.  When I allowed my mind to wander a bit too much, I would quickly stumble and be brought back to the present.  After tripping myself once again, my friend and I discussed how we were able to take on the rock climbing and the trails because we were still young.  We felt pretty good about ourselves and even acknowledged that the older couple had must have been hiking the easier path, enjoying the view near the harbor.

No sooner had the words left our mouths but who should we pass – the older couple.  They had each found a walking stick and were making their way up and down the rocks, gracefully I might add as compared to our lumbering about.  Small talk ensued about holding the boat for each other and what great views were coming up on each other’s paths and then we each continued on our ways. 

I was dumbfounded.  Not only had this couple decided to take a more difficult route – they were owning it and managing much better than my friend and I were.  I don’t think a drop of sweat graced their bodies.  As I sat down at the end of the dock waiting for the mail boat to come back and take my tired bones back across the sea, all I could do was laugh at my prejudice.  The couple continued to explore about the island, enjoying each other’s company, and proving us all wrong.

glacier national park, mt

“You might want to consider a pair of ice cleats.” 

The unsolicited advice came from a fellow hiker as we made our way on our initial trail in Glacier National Park.  At this point, both of our bums were soaked through from having to slide down the trail’s descent which due to the spring thaw was a sheet of ice.  Not to be deterred we continued slipping and sliding down the path while serenading the forest to prevent an unwanted encounter in grizzly country.  It was in this state that we had the fortune of coming across a pair of local hikers.  Even though we had spoken with park rangers upon our arrival, we were woefully unprepared for the terrain and could use all the help we could get.  The ice cleats were the best purchase made that trip.

A friend and I plotted last year that we should travel some place new and hike some mountains as an annual adventure.  Our inaugural trip brought us to Kelowna, British Columbia.  Obviously, we went there in April when the higher elevations still had snow up to our waists and the bears were just starting to ease out of hibernation all groggy and famished.  Fifty miles of hiking later, happy and exhausted, we vowed to repeat the experience the following year in a new locale.  I had one request - to not go somewhere cold when it was just starting to get warm again in the city.  While we grew up in the same area, my friend has since moved to San Antonio, TX.  Therefore I pulled the trump card of my home is colder than your home and for the love of all things good can we please go someplace warm next year.  Which is obviously how we ended up spending this spring at Glacier National Park in Montana.  When the higher elevations still had snow up to our waists and the bears were just starting to ease out of hibernation all groggy and famished.

But the snow, ice, and potential for grizzly encounters were all worth it.  Glacier National Park is stunningly beautiful – even during the off season.  We were able to enjoy much of the park by ourselves and only came across 5 hikers in the course of the week.   It’s definitely on my list of places to revisit and I highly recommend it to fellow I-like-to-be-in-nature-and-somewhat-alone peoples.

notes:

research trails at www.hike734.com – we came across Jake during our trip and he’s knowledgeable, helpful, kind, etc.  

hike at two medicine – it is vastly different from the western side of the park

visit the national bison range and hang out with some loveable ungulates

drink at bulldog saloon when all you want after a day of hiking is a burger and a beer

brunch at buffalo café when taking a break from the trails

caffeinate oneself with cowgirl coffee

a new POV of the hudson

Saturday. Need a break from City life? Yes. Got lots of cash? Yeah nope.

Sometimes you don't have to venture far out of the city to change your perspective. We often glance down from the top of buildings at all the people below moving like ants.  But there's really nothing like being out on the water...

The air is fresh, the horns are silent, you can look all the way up the river past the GWB, and you can look all the way down the river past lady liberty. It's an interesting point of view looking back at the park and seeing people walking, jogging, biking, and chatting along the river path. And there you are, in a boat with the freedom to move. Direct yourself wherever you want in the water without the worry of bumping into crazy pedestrians. 

We had heard about free kayaking offered in various places throughout the city, so we checked this one out on 72nd Street/Hudson River run by the nice (and cute) volunteers from Manhattan Community Boathouse. We simply walked up, chatted, signed our lives away and swore we could swim/would wear a life vest anyways, duh, and got to it. (They had free lockers you could stash your stuff in too!) We both love being in the water, so this was the perfect way to spend an afternoon without having to hop on the train for a day at the beach. (Caution: your butt will get wet. #lessonlearned #captainobvious)

After we got our "work-out" of the day in, and we had spent all of $0, we decided to hit up the ever so popular 79th St Boat Basin (keeping with our nautical theme), which took us a lot of effort to get to. We had to walk all of 5 blocks along the river to arrive, and then they let us drink a bucket of beer while we waited for a table. Life is hard.

Since there was such a long walk to the train (read: 3 blocks. we take lazy Saturdays seriously around here), maybe froyo was involved. Lips sealed. Afternoon nap taken.

Do you take lazy Saturdays to another level too?

hello there

As the frigid air and snowy ground settled in last winter, conversations about wanderlust and escapism took hold. The day-in, day-out routines of city life felt stifling and the winter began to seem like it would never end. Over a meal, a discussion began about reimagining the present – to challenge ourselves to explore our surroundings and create community. This space grew out of that desire. At the moment we both reside in NYC, Meg in Brooklyn and Grace in Washington Heights, but our travels lead us to locales all over the globe. 

Thank you for reading and cheers to wherever this leads! The journey is the destination, right?

Love,

Meg & Grace