Winter Dreams

The heavy rains of the past week kept many Juneau residents inside. I was scheduled to teach cross country ski lessons at Eaglecrest last Saturday and Sunday, so I spent two full days skiing and it wasn't too bad. My students were eager to learn, and when I wasn't teaching I enjoyed the nicely groomed Lower Loop trail, working on both my classic and skate skiing. Scott and I made a few runs on the mountain Sunday morning, but were defeated by the low visibility and wet conditions. I'd rather beat myself to a pulp classic skiing 20 or 30 km than sit on the chairlift in the rain.

When I didn't have to be at the ski area to teach, I started thinking about the rest of this winter. We've had a great start, and I've done my fair share of training for the Tour of Anchorage in March as well as working on my teaching and skiing skills. I will continue to spend many hours on the groomed trails, rain or shine, until the Tour is over and lessons have stopped, but I must confess that I've started to dream about other places to go on my skis beyond the Lower Loop, Mendenhall Campground, and Mendenhall Lake.

A winter dream come true - new tracks in soft, fresh snow

Here is an alphabetical list of many of the places a person can go on cross country skis. Maybe some of these will fuel your own winter dreams and give you some ideas of fun places to go cross country skiing.

Dan Moller Trail —Climbs steadily up through woods and meadows to the Dan Moller Bowl, known toold-timers as 3rd Cabin, site of Juneau's first alpine ski area equipped with arope tow. Recommended for intermediate to advanced skiers, this area is a fun place to practice telemarking. The trail back down is full of whoop-de-doos. Also open to snowmachines. Experienced backcountry travelers can cross over Mt. Troy and down into Fish Creek and Eaglecrest Ski Area.

Dredge Lake — Easily accessible classic skiing on almost flat trails.

Eagle Beach State Park — This area is truly a gem, with short, easy trails for anyone to enjoy in a remote park setting and unparalleled views of the Chilkat mountains gleaming with snow across Lynn Canal. These trails are groomed on a somewhat regular basis.

Eagle River Trail —A little more challenging than skiing up the Herbert River trail, but worth the effort when you reach the Eagle Glacier cabin and lake.

How cold does it have to be to safely ski tour on the frozen Eagle River?
How about -15 F.?

Eaglecrest lower nordic loop — A 6k loop with twists, turns, uphills, and downhills, but still skiable for all levels. This trail was widened, straightened, and improved over the past couple of years, and Eaglecrest is doing an excellent job of keeping this trail groomed for skate and classic skiing.

Eaglecrest upper nordic loop — Also known as Hilda Meadows, this is a more challenging loop accessible by hiking up one of the lower Eaglecrest alpine runs (Trickster or Sneaky) or getting a ride on the Hooter chair lift (not recommended for beginners!). Not always groomed – check with Eaglecrest before heading up.

When the Upper Loop at Eaglecrest is groomed, it can be great skiing.

Herbert River Trail — This popular summer hiking trail becomes an easy ski tour in the winter when the snow cover is adequate. Most fun when the river is frozen and there is good snow cover all the way up to Herbert Glacier, but skiers should be aware of the danger of possible open water and overflow.

Ski touring along the Herbert River Trail

Mendenhall Campground and Mendenhall Lake — A good area to spend time with family and friends for a casual Sunday morning outing or skate ski 'til you drop! Groomed daily for skate and classic skiing by the Juneau Nordic Ski Club volunteers. Please join and support winter trail grooming. Go to jnski.org for more information and for up to the minute trail grooming reports.

Peterson Creek Trail —This trail is challenging at first but then opens up into nice meadows and finally leads to the USFS Peterson Creek cabin. You can drop your overnight pack at the cabin after skiing up the trail in the morning and then spend the afternoon exploring the Auke Mountain/Spaulding meadow area in the woods andmeadows above the cabin.

Auke Mountain meadows heading down towards Peterson Lake

Spaulding Meadows —Hike up the Spaulding Trail a few miles, then put on your nordic skis and spend the day in cross country heaven with rolling meadows surrounded by mountain views. I recommend hiking up and down the trail which can be steep and narrow in spots. You can try going up the Muir Cabin trail, which branches off the Spaulding Trail about one mile up. This leads to meadows which are closer to Auke Mountain.You can make a loop by skiing out Peterson Creek trail (a very full day). Lake Creek trail is another way to access Spaulding Meadows, but this trail is maintained and used by the local snowmachine club, so be aware of motorized traffic on the trail and move out of the way of snowmachines as they pass.

Spaulding Meadows is the most beautiful place in the world to cross country ski

There are many more trails to explore and enjoy in Juneau. Keep in mind avalanche safety when you venture on the slopes. I strongly suggest that you avoid the Perseverance /Granite Creek Trail area during the winter, as well as the Sheep Creek valley area, unless you are educated and properly equipped to properly assess and deal with hazardous snow conditions.

The City and Borough of Juneau provides an Urban Avalanche Advisory can be found at www.juneau.org/avalanche  This Web site targets the Mt. Juneau urban avalanche zones but is a useful reference for general avalanche danger in the Juneau area.

Sweet dreams and safe skiing!

Thank You, 2012.

Thank you, 2012. It was a wonderful year.

The ski touring in Spaulding Meadows was exceptionally good last winter

We started the year by skiing and skiing and skiing some more. The Eaglecrest lower loop cross country trail held together well into the spring, and I skied a full loop over the entire trail as late as May 17. The mountain was even more amazing. A friend and I skied from the top of the East ridge all the way to the base of Ptarmigan chair in soft spring snow on June 6.  There was so much snow that in January I did my all-time favorite nighttime cross country ski trip on my beater waxless skis, skiing from the door of my house, down the unplowed street about a ½ mile, and then to the end of the Airport Dike Trail in a blizzard.

Night skiing on the Mendenhall Refuge by the airport

When the snow finally started to melt off of the trails, I started hiking. Some people claim it was a particularly wet, rainy summer. I guess it did rain a bit at the beginning. I remember starting out slow, with short hikes to Point Bridget and the Salmon Creek dam in rain gear and rubber boots. Once I got used to the idea that it was o.k. to be out in the rain and that I wasn’t going to melt, I became bolder and went for longer outings in my waterproof gear, including several loops from Spaulding trail over to the Muir cabin.

Wet stairs on the hill climb to the Salmon Creek dam

We started getting some breaks and I was ready. We celebrated the first dry day of summer with a Mt. Juneau ridge hike, glissading off the ridge into Granite Creek in a personal record-breaking time, and then slogging out through knee deep snow down to Perseverance Trail. When Scott made the mistake of leaving town for a few days on business, I took off for a solo Gastineau-Roberts-Sheep traverse, again traveling so fast over the snowpack on the ridge that it felt more like a short, easy day hike than a 12 mile mountain ridge route. Then I started getting more ideas for hikes.

Firm snow along the Juneau ridge made for fast hiking in June

I ran up Sheep Creek trail to the summit of the Powerline Ridge and peeked over into the Sheep Fork valley and up at Hawthorne Peak, filing away plans for future adventures. We had a beautiful day up on the Grandchild Peaks with a friend, and thanks to the snow we were able to get all the way around to the highest point along the ridge. Mt. McGinnis was next on the list, although we almost didn’t get started due to the fog and clouds. But we went anyway and got so close to a group of mountain goats near the summit we could have hit them with a pebble.

This mountain goat didn't seem to mind while we took his picture

Another favorite summer hike is Mt. Jumbo. We used to do it every 4^th of July, followed by partying with the crowds in Douglas. This year I went near the end of July and was amazed to find myself mostly alone on the mountain on a beautiful, sunny day.

Looking at Juneau from the summit of Mount Jumbo

We took a business trip to Utah in August and hiked up hot, dry mountain trails that started at 7,000’ and left us gasping for air and water. When we returned to Juneau, a chance encounter with a friend led to a crazy adventure the very next day scrambling almost 5,000’ up a virtually unmarked route through thick brush and steep slopes to the summit of Mt. Bullard.

A crazy hike with crazy people on Mt. Bullard

I felt the short summer season closing in at the end of August and decided to go for one more classic ridge hike. We picked an epic traverse on a blue sky day – hiking up Blackerby Ridge, over Cairn and Observation Peaks to the Mt. Juneau ridge, then out Granite Creek and Perseverance trail, almost 17 miles and over 8,000’ of total elevation gain.

Observation Peak

I think that one finally did me in, as I came down with the crud that was making its way around town and I felt sick with a bad cough for a few weeks after that. But I rallied for a hike with Scott up Twin Summit Ridge on the last day of summer to celebrate our wedding anniversary.

Twin Summit Ridge

We returned from our annual fall vacation a few days early thanks to Hurricane Sandy. That gave us the perfect opportunity to take advantage of a cold, sunny day. We quickly put together a plan to go up Spaulding trail, across the length of Spaulding Meadows, and out the Montana Creek trail as a final note to a busy hiking season.

Looking at Windfall Lake from the far end of Spaulding Meadows

2012 ended exactly the way it started, because five days after our late October hike, I started skiing and haven’t stopped since then. I skied especially hard the past few days, carving turns on my fat boards in the fresh, deep snow in the mornings and hitting the cross country trails for an afternoon workout, until finally my legs gave out and demanded a day off.

Floating through new, soft snow on the west side of Eaglecrest

So I’m starting the New Year by enjoying a day of rest, and dreaming of new adventures in 2013. I am extremely grateful for my health, my family, my friends, and for this beautiful place that I am lucky enough to call home. Here’s to a safe, healthy, Happy New Year to all!

Happy Holiday Skiing!

A perfectly groomed cross country trail on a perfectly cold day

I’m sitting in my easy chair by the fire, thinking about how cold and beautiful it was up at Eaglecrest today. The cross country ski trail was nicely set, with all 5.8 km twisting and turning across meadows, hills, and woods in a lovely pattern. My skis were waxed just right. I felt like I was flying along in perfect rhythm on the groomed classic track.  The temperature was in the single digits, but I was warm from the exertion of my steady kick and glide motion.

I taught a nordic ski lesson this morning, the first of many that I hope to teach this winter. My students and I dressed warmly, and spent two hours working on skills and techniques for basic classic skiing. Both of them did a great job and we were all smiles at the end of the lesson. We were probably the only people at Eaglecrest who were truly staying warm skiing. We kept moving the whole time, swinging our arms and legs as we practiced various drills up and down the track. Going over the basics of skiing with eager students only sharpened my enthusiasm to ski on my own in the afternoon, which is exactly what I did after a quick lunch and the shedding of a few layers.

I started skiing this winter on November 1, with a short trip up to Spaulding Meadows to play in the first good snowfall of the year. My fitness level was fine, but as always at the beginning of each winter, my skills were a bit rusty. Still, nothing beats the feeling of gliding over the snow after months of hiking, and I knew if I patiently kept at it my skiing would steadily improve.

During the past seven and a half weeks I’ve skied every chance I could get. I hiked up Eaglecrest on my alpine skis with climbing skins and skied off the top of the ridges well before the chairlift opened. I classic skied and skate skied at the Mendenhall Campground and out on Mendenhall Lake on the tracks set by the Juneau Nordic Ski Club volunteer groomers. I skied in the morning before work, I skied on my days off, and I skied at night after work. I made many trips to the Eaglecrest lower loop trail to cross country ski and even one trip to the upper loop in Hilda Meadows despite it’s being a beautiful mess of ungroomed snow. I skied alone, I skied with my husband, and I skied with friends. It’s been an incredible start to the winter season.

A mysterious, foggy day of cross country skiing out on Mendenhall Lake

I consider good snow conditions to be like sunshine in the summer – you have to drop everything and get out and enjoy it RIGHT NOW. The bills may not get paid precisely on time, the laundry piles up, meals are slapped together, and the car runs dangerously low on gas. But you ski, because you never know when the snow conditions may change, or what might happen to prevent you from enjoying that most wonderful feeling of sliding over the snow.

When the chairlifts are closed, we hike up for the good snow

Today was my 20^th time out on my skis since that first trip up to Spaulding at the beginning of November. I felt good. Many of the kinks were worked out of my classic stride and I found myself working on things that I remembered wanting to improve from the end of last ski season: lengthening my glide balanced on one ski, staying in the track on the steep downhill turns, striding up the hill without resorting to a herringbone step out of the track in the steepest spots, and generally improving my fitness level. I won’t be neglecting my downhill skiing even while I work on my nordic skiing – I have dreams of skiing high on the ridges and flying down on my fat skis in deep snow, carving turns on steep slopes that challenge me. They may not be worthy of an extreme ski photo but they are my own little slice of heaven.

My own little slice of heaven

I may or may not reach all of my goals. I might have an injury, or illness, or something else may happen to stop me in my tracks, so to speak. But today was sublime, and I can’t wait to get back out on my skis with my husband on Christmas Day, my next full day off of work. We haven’t yet decided what kind of skiing we’ll do, but we will be skiing, and I have a feeling it’s going to be another great day.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and I hope to see many of you out skiing, too!

Turning 60

Skate skiing on Mendenhall Lake on my 60th birthday

“Yoga is 99% practice and 1% theory” - Sri K. Pattabhi Jois of Mysore, India

This week I will be 60 years old. I’ve been thinking about this birthday for a while, as is the trend with those big decade landmarks.

My blogs are often easy to write. I love to share my stories about my adventures outdoors and the words usually flow out on to the page. This one has been very difficult to write. I’ve started and stopped and started over again about half a dozen times over the past couple of weeks

When I showed up for my Tuesday night yoga class this week, I felt slightly anxious. It was the night before my birthday and I wasn’t too excited about turning 60 years old. I couldn’t expect to get too much sympathy at home, since Scott turned 60 last year and seemed to be handling it just fine. I didn’t dare say anything to my 89 year old mother. I complained to her once when I turned 50, and she just sighed longingly and said, “Oh, I would love to be 50 again!”

Scott knows that age is just a number, and turning 60 is no big deal, as long as you keep skiing

I rolled out my mat and started to prepare for 90 minutes of yoga practice. This particular class is Mysore style where every student goes through the ashtanga primary series at their own pace. We individually focus on our breath while working through a sequence of postures connected by vinyasa movement (think jumping back into a push-up, arching your back for a breath, another push-up, then lifting your hips and jumping into the next pose – repeat about 100 times).

As I got deeper into the practice, I forgot the anxious feeling I had at the beginning. I reminded myself to focus on the postures I was still trying to learn, and to find ways to deepen the postures where I felt more confident. The teacher moved from student to student, quietly helping each person at different levels of the series.  My muscles started to burn while at the same time my mind felt focused and relaxed. The 90 minutes flowed by, slowly at first, and then more quickly until the teacher reminded us it was time to begin our closing sequences. It seemed like a moment later and we were in the final pose, lying peacefully on our mats and enjoying the quiet rest that comes after a vigorous practice.

Somewhere during those 90 minutes, my anxiety completely disappeared. I was so focused on what I was doing there was no room for other thought, and especially no room for negative thought. This is how I feel when I go for a long hike, a good hard bike ride, cross country ski along a groomed trail, or climb to the top of the ridge at the ski area and plunge down through fresh, deep snow. This is what I do, and just because I’m 60 it doesn’t mean I’m going to stop doing it.

Practice, practice, practice - then there's no time to worry about things that don't matter anyway

On my birthday, I went out to Mendenhall Lake and skate skied for over an hour. The air was cold, but the wind was calm, and the tracks were perfectly groomed (thank you, Juneau Nordic Ski Club volunteer groomers). I chatted with a friend as we skied together and focused on my breath, balance, skiing, and poling while we breezed along. I looked up at the glacier and marveled at the view. I met old and new friends coming and going on the trail. When I was finished, I was tired, satisfied, and happy. I started thinking about where I would ski tomorrow – maybe classic skiing on the Eaglecrest lower loop?

Sixty years hasn’t been so bad, now that I think of it. As long as I stop worrying about it and keep practicing.

“Practice and all is coming.”

Still crazy after all these years - climbing to the top of the ski area ridge for some turns before the chairlift opens

It's Going To Be A Great Winter

It’s going to be a great winter.

I once asked an older friend of mine, the beloved Juneau skier and wilderness enthusiast Sigurd Olson, if he thought we were going to have a good winter. It was November, and we were still in the fall rain cycle. People were starting to grumble and doubt that we would have a good ski season. So I turned to my wise friend, who had skied more mountains than I could ever hope to, for wisdom and advice. He looked at me wonderingly and replied without hesitation. “Oh, I always say it’s going to be a great winter! You have to believe the snow and the skiing will be good, no matter what.”

I took his words to heart, and every year since then I start to get excited about all the skiing I’m going to do and how great the snow is going to be. This year it’s been easy, as the snow started to fall in October. I have made several trips up to Spaulding Meadows in the past few weeks and managed to get “first tracks” on my waxless touring skis as early as November 1.

Since then, the faithful have been hiking up to Eaglecrest and other high points with their cross country skis, downhill skis, telemark skis, snowboards, and sleds. Reports have varied from deep stashes of soft, fresh snow on some of the steeper runs to descriptions of being thrashed in snow so heavy it felt like tumbling through a cement mixer. Core shots (deep gouges to the ski or snowboard base), tangled fights with brush, and carefully negotiated stream crossings are the hallmarks of early season riding. But almost without exception, everyone who has ventured out into the early snow has come home smiling.

I started out with a hike to Spaulding Meadows across a layer of thin, firm snow (see my last blog on hiking from Spaulding to Montana Creek) in late October. Just a few days later, we received several more inches of snow. I knew the extra few inches would give me exactly the coverage needed to ski up in the meadows, so I didn’t waste any time. I quickly hiked up Spaulding trail, and as soon as I reached the upper meadow I was able to put on my skis and start gliding. I didn’t have much time to go very far, as I had an appointment I had to make later that day, so I traveled at random, just enjoying the feeling of skiing across the fresh snow. I made silly, pointless loops over the meadows, moving in no particular direction or pattern.

First tracks in Spaulding Meadows on November 1

Whenever I turned downhill and just let myself stand on my skis and glide, I started laughing out loud. Skiing is about the most fun thing I can think of doing, even if it’s just a short day trip to cross country ski on easy terrain.

Skiable snow and beautiful mountains - what's not to like?

The weather turned warm soon after and some of the snow melted. We were back to hiking and once again I returned to Spaulding, this time by way of the Lake Creek trail. I wanted to see for myself if the remaining snow in the meadows was skiable or not. I ran up the trail, which starts by the UAS housing just off the back loop road, and came out into the meadows on the Lake Creek side. As I had suspected, the snow was once again firm enough for hiking, but not too great for skiing. I contented myself with hiking a loop over to and then down the Spaulding trail (which meant I had to walk an extra 1-1/4 mile on the road back to my car!) I could see my old ski tracks in the snow up in Spaulding, now almost melted away. It was a beautiful day for a hike, but I was a little disappointed to see how much the snow had melted.

My ski tracks from the previous week were barely there

Two days later we had more snow, so Scott and I went up to Eaglecrest to check out the cross country trail in the Hilda Creek meadows by the base of the Black Bear chair. We joined the line of skiers, snowboarders, sledders, and hikers going up the maintenance road on the east side of the mountain. We were able to put on our waxless cross country skis at the bottom of the Ptarmigan chair and ski up to the meadows. Once we were up there, we tried to follow the cross country trail, but once again found ourselves making silly loops wherever we could, climbing up hills and bombing down on our skinny skis and generally goofing around. It was Scott’s first day out on skis, so he had the same grin on his face that I had up in Spaulding. After a full lifetime of skiing, we still laugh when we get out for the first day of the season. Gliding is just plain fun.

It was Scott's turn to smile as we cruised through the snow

Apparently the snow on the upper mountain was very skiable and deep in places that day. We heard good reports from most of the people who went higher up. I’m ready to start carving turns on steeper terrain, but we were pretty content with our little cross country ski adventure that day. Soon we will get the climbing skins and the fat skis out and do some real alpine touring. I’m ready, but there’s no great hurry. It’s not even Thanksgiving yet, and we’ve got a long winter of skiing ahead of us. It’s going to be a good winter.

Actually, it’s going to be a great winter.

A Fall Classic: Spaulding Meadows to Montana Creek

Scott and I had just returned from our annual fall vacation a few days early (see my previous blog for that story). So we found ourselves with a free weekend and the tail end of a rare October cycle of clear, cold weather.

Fall can provide great hiking opportunities. Thick brush loses its summer energy and obediently lies down, the bugs are gone, and the bears go into hibernation. If we’re lucky, we get a cold snap and the ground freezes. These conditions made a perfect opportunity to traverse the normally boggy Spaulding Meadows all the way over to Montana Creek.

We’d heard there was snow up in the meadows, but we’d been hiking in snow all summer, so the prospect of a little fluff didn’t bother us. And we knew we could pack clothes for whatever the weather threw at us. We aren’t exactly runners, but we do keep a steady hiking pace and like to travel quickly, so we wear our trail running shoes and pack light, while still carrying enough essentials to stay comfortable.

We left a vehicle at the Montana Creek road, and then drove over to the Spaulding trail head. Scott set a blistering pace up the trail which left me gasping. I would try to shoot off a few photos and then run to catch up with him as he barreled along. The usually boggy or muddy sections of the trail were frozen and firm, with secure footing practically every step of the way. Before I knew it, we reached the top of the trail where it opens up into the meadows and it was perfect – firm muskeg with just a light layer of snow on top.

We made quick work across the main meadows and over towards the northeast side leading to the Montana Creek drainage. The weather was fantastic – clear and cold, but not too cold. The weather forecast for the day was for high winds downtown, but up in the meadows we enjoyed just a light breeze.

The view of the surrounding mountains was breathtaking. Spaulding Meadows is famous for capturing hikers and skiers in thick fog where you can get turned around and lost, but it was obvious that was not going to be a problem for us today. And to make it even easier, it appeared that a group of hikers or runners had traversed the exact route that we wanted to follow before us so that we could follow their prints in the snow as we went. We found out later that the UAS Outdoor Studies class may have been up there so perhaps they were the ones who made finding the route so easy.

We saw other footprints in the snow as we worked our way across the meadows, including wolf prints, which were exciting to see. There were many other tracks, but while it was often difficult to determine what they might be, it was obvious that the area was popular with more than just humans.

After close to forty years of hiking and travelling the backcountry around Juneau, I’m embarrassed to admit that I’d never done this particular trip before now. That’s one of the great things about Spaulding Meadows – there are so many possibilities for different loops and trips. You can go up the Lake Creek trail and over to either Spaulding or the John Muir trail. Or maybe travel up onto Auke Mountain and enjoy the meadows on that side. Or go all the way out to Peterson Lake. And you can do most of these trips either summer or winter, on foot or on skis. I’d done all those combinations in one form or another, but never the Montana Creek loop.

Following our maps, the footprints, as well as some occasional flagging along the way, we soon found ourselves looking at Windfall Lake in the distance and dropping rapidly through the meadows. Right as we thought we should be hitting the Montana Creek trail, we spotted a blue diamond trail marker and not just some random flagging. Within a few hundred yards we were on the main trail and headed out Montana Creek.

The adventurous route finding was over and we were no longer in the open meadows and bright sunshine, but down in the shadowy Montana Creek drainage with a good four or five miles ahead of us to get out. We tried jogging along the trail in places, but often had to stop to crawl over downed trees or inch our way over steep sections of trail that slid straight down into the creek. A trio of runners came by who had also been up in the meadows and we had a quick visit. We all marveled at our good luck with the weather and the route.

 At last we reached the Montana Creek road and the final mile or two out to where our truck was parked. It’s been a long time since I had to walk out that section – I’m usually on my mountain bike or cross country skis! – so it seemed to take forever.

Five and a half hours and 12.25 miles after we started, we were home, settled in front of the fireplace with hot drinks and a warm feeling of accomplishment. I was thrilled to have finally completed a route I’d longed to do for years, and we were both amazed at our good fortune with the weather and conditions. Now we will have to go back and try it again on cross country skis – maybe in a few months, when the weather and conditions are just right again.

*Spaulding Trail and Spaulding Meadows are named for Victor C. Spaulding, 1867-1937, who lived for many years in the area. Born in Massachusetts, he came to Alaska in 1897. He lived at Dawson and Atlin before going to Juneau to mine in 1906 (DeArmond, Some Names Around Juneau, 1957, p. 40) (Dictionary of Alaska Place Names, Donald Orth, 1967, p. 906)

Backcountry Bahamas

Miles of white sand beach are deserted at this time of year

Every October for the past 14 years, Scott and I travel to a quiet island in the southern Bahamas for a little sun and relaxation. Scott is an avid fly fisherman, I am a certified scuba diver, and we both enjoy a short period of sun and relaxation in between our busy summer work season and the long, cold, snowy winter season. Our primary recreational pursuits in Juneau involve getting out in the backcountry and away from town, so it should be no surprise that we seek the same experience on our vacation.

We rent a little house in a tiny settlement that one resident described as virtually unchanged since he was born there, forty years ago. Small houses are scattered along the one road that runs the length of the island and you’re more likely to see goats in the front yard than people. When you do see the locals, you have to be prepared for a visit – no one passes by without catching up on the news. The first question they ask is “How are you? Are you well?” and then they are anxious to let you know how happy they are to see you again and how glad they are that you’ve come back to visit.

Relaxing in the gazebo at our rental house - perfect for a cup of coffee in the morning, or a beer at the end of the day

The days start early and end early. By nightfall the settlement is quiet and dark. No sparkling casinos and not much in the way of night life on this island, with only the occasional thunder and lightning storm to liven up the evening.

Our house is located up on a hill where we can survey the ocean and bonefish flats a short distance away. Rusty but serviceable beach bikes are at our disposal, as well as a rental car. We know our way around the island fairly well after all these years, yet we still manage to find new places to explore, new people to meet, and usually leave with a list of things that we promise we’re going to do “next year”.

We do our best to relax, but often find ourselves falling into bed at the end of the day, exhausted from all our “relaxing” activities.

After making arrangements for a few days of guided bonefishing for Scott and finding out when the local resort’s dive boat will be going out, we like to visit our favorite spots on the island. A 10 minute bike  along a dirt road takes us to a brilliant white sand beach that stretches for almost two miles and is deserted at this time of year. We can run barefoot on the firm sand, jump in the ocean if we get too warm, and snorkel on the reef at the far end. Despite the fact that we’ve snorkeled on the same reef for years, we always see something new. Sometimes it’s a clownish looking puffer fish peering out of his hiding place on the reef, or a large green turtle caught napping on a rock, or a school of brilliant squid swimming by so close that we can reach out and touch them. This year we were surprised by two spotted eagle rays that swam straight towards us and then slowly circled around us several times, even allowing me to dive down and swim right next to them.

A Hawksbill turtle swims below an abandoned bridge

On the other side of the long narrow island, where the Atlantic surf pounds against rocky shores, snorkeling is a bit riskier, but the bike ride and short hike out to a hidden beach is always worth it. We often spot hawksbill turtles swimming under an abandoned stone bridge, or great blue herons feeding in the mangrove bushes. The local Green Heron is a bold island resident, and usually allows us to approach and take photographs whenever we see one. A number of other birds keep us occupied, from the white egret to the Smooth Billed Ani and the Bahamian Mockingbird. If we are not eagerly looking for fish in the water, our eyes are in the trees and mangroves.

Smooth Billed Ani

White Egret

Green Heron

Our most exciting encounter with the local wildlife occurred on the last full day we spent on the island. We were riding our bikes to the beach when Scott, who always pauses at every small bridge and dock along the water to scan for fish, spied something unusual in the shallow water right next to a dock. On closer inspection, we were delighted to find one of the resident manatees napping peacefully. We spent a good 45 minutes photographing and even petting this gentle creature, who reminded us of an ancient prehistoric animal.

Manatee hanging out by the dock

Petting the manatee - his hide felt firm and rough, like an elephant, which is it's closest living relative

One of our favorite neighbors is 90 year old Mrs. Ophelia, or Aunt Ophie as everyone on the island calls her. She lives alone (although she is rarely alone with all of the family and friends who visit her) in a tiny stone house built by her husband and where they raised ten children. Up until very recently, she would regularly take her small fishing boat out to catch fish and to visit her farm, where she grew a variety of local fruits and vegetables and harvested coconuts from trees she planted. She still maintains a large garden around her house. You can call her anytime to order home baked bread at $3 a loaf. The last time we picked up bread from her we came home with a fresh papaya and a Bahamian sugar apple from her garden. Her mind is sharp and although she doesn’t move quite as briskly as she did a few years ago, I think some people would have a hard time keeping up with her.

Hiking to a hidden beach on the eastern Atlantic side of the island

Too rough for snorkeling, but still beautiful to visit

Visiting Aunt Ophie is like stepping back in time, but our best friends on the island live very much in the present. We met Jill and Docky Smith on our first visit to the Bahamas, when their oldest son was a baby and their daughter was not yet born. Now both children are smart, talented teenagers, Docky’s bonefishing guide service is one of the best in all of the Bahamas, and Jill has transitioned from working at her family’s resort business to managing it full-time as a part owner. Our annual visits are now happy reunions with good friends, and we get together to share stories about what’s been happening in our lives and marveling over how fast our children have grown.

Flamingo Tongue climbing along coral

Shy Puffer (aka Balloon Fish)

Nassau Grouper

Even the spiders look different in the Bahamas

Spotted Eagle Ray

We meant to stay on the island for nineteen days, but five days before our scheduled departure, on a morning that Scott had tentatively planned to go fishing with Docky, we received an urgent phone call. Not only was fishing cancelled due to approaching bad weather, but we needed to leave the island as quickly as we could. Tropical Storm Sandy was approaching Jamaica and Cuba and headed straight for us! Our departure 24 hours later was abrupt, and we almost didn’t make it off the island (Bahamian air services are not the most dependable). As I called around to the larger airlines to change our reservations to get back home, I told them how we needed to get out because of the approaching storm. None of them knew about Sandy, so I guess I can say that I was the first to tell them about it.

As odd as it may seem, our two weeks in the Bahamas has us primed and ready for ski season! We got a good dose of Vitamin D. Scott was able to extend his fishing season and catch his share of the elusive bonefish. I had some memorable dives, ocean swims, beach runs, and yoga sessions by the ocean which left me feeling strong and fresh for the upcoming winter season. Where do you go and what do you do to recharge your batteries and get ready for winter?

Bonefishing on the flats is an incredible experience

For more information on Long Island and bonefishing in the Bahamas:

http://www.stellamarisresort.com/

http://bonafidebonefishing.com/