A hike from Maiviken to Grytviken, and a toast to Shackleton!
Before breakfast on the misty morning of 7 March, I was among a hardy group that was shuttled via Zodiac to the shore in Maiviken, a small bay in the center of South Georgia’s eastern coastline. We sloshed our way up through the soggy hillside to the rocky height of land on the Thatcher peninsula, and down into the storied whaling village of Grytviken. This tiny settlement encapsulates, in a few small acres, every important aspect of South Georgia human history – sealers, whalers, explorers, soldiers, governors, researchers, and even tourists. Read on and check out the gallery!
A sunrise visit shows why Gold Harbour got its name.
It was 4:30am on 6 March as a hardy group of guests quietly stopped by the top-deck café, looking for coffee, tea, and pastries. The Endurance was resting calmly in the middle of Gold Harbour, so named by the early sealers because the morning’s first rays of sun tend to paint the surrounding cliffs with a golden glow. The weather was calm but a bit misty; nonetheless we soon climbed down to the bottom deck to don our waterproofs and were launching the Zodiacs by 5:30 as the horizon behind us hinted at the coming day. Each Zodiac had a lighted pillar to aid the ship in tracking us in the morning gloom; the penguins on shore seemed nonplussed by this early wake-up call.
Landing in Gold Harbour, South Georgia.
The mist later rose, leading to a spectacular morning on the beaches of Gold Harbour; after a return to the ship for a hearty breakfast, we made a second trip on which I joined a group for a hike up to the headlands – and sweeping views of the harbour, its glaciers, and tens of thousands of penguins.
King penguins – Gold Harbour, South Georgia.
Read on, and be sure to check out the two galleries of photos and videos: sunrise and hike.
After a month of warm temperatures – often above Freezing at night, and into the 40s, 50s, during the day – and the nearby forest floor had melted nearly clear of snow, I was glad to see winter conditions finally return. We had 6″ of fresh powder snow on Thursday. Sure, it was topped by an hour or two of sleet, but the woods felt properly wintry this morning as I climbed my usual route to the hilltop, stopping only briefly to explore the fresh tracks left by the hillside residents, leaving my own track to mark the day.
At the top of the hill the morning quiet was punctuated by a busy woodpecker, hopping from tree to tree to seek his breakfast.
For various reasons, I have not had a chance to hike any Big mountains for many months, but was eagerly looking for a day when the weather, my schedule, and my friends would all converge. Today was that day – beautiful blue skies, crisp temperatures, and decent trail conditions. We followed the Glencliff Trail – which is part of the Appalachian Trail – up Mount Moosilauke. This is my favorite winter approach; despite it having the greatest elevation gain of any approach to the summit, it is the shortest approach in winter and allows one to traverse the beautiful ridgeline between south and north peak.
Early this morning I headed out for my morning walk – which recently has included a steep hike up the hill behind our house, bushwhacking through the snowy forest. The sun was coming up, and as I walked across the street and entered the woods I noted a pinkish glow along the horizon to the west and north… although, with this hill to the east, the woods were still in the morning’s dim early light. I made it less than 50m into the woods, starting up the slope and thinking I might revisit the spot where I so often see fox tracks, when a barred owl swept silently past me, its talons clutching its breakfast catch. It landed on the branch of a nearby pine tree.
Darn! I had no camera with me today, although on my Tuesday outing I had carried a full complement of camera gear only to see nothing of interest. I hesitated, then ran back home to fetch my Canon R5 with its 100-500mm lens. Within five minutes I was back, and the friendly owl was still there, posing patiently. I experimented with different positions and different exposures – the light was still low – and the above photo was the result.
Noting that he was facing away from me, swiveling his head to look in my direction, I decided to walk around to the other side to perhaps capture a view from the front… but my efforts to crunch through the old snow in that direction apparently convinced him it was time to leave, and he flew off. I look forward to seeing him again someday!
Another snowstorm, on Sunday through Monday, left about 6-8″ of fresh, powdery snow across the fields and forests around us. On Monday morning I headed across the street and into the forest behind the house, as I have done so often over the years, bushwhacking up the steep hill through the woods. The forest is relatively young and open, having been logged periodically and well managed for a variety of species – pine, fir, hemlock, oak, maple, and more. I enjoy rambling through these woods, following the fading trails left by loggers, especially in winter – because the snow exposes stories of the wildlife that live here. It’s hard to see in the photo below, but the deer walked this path earlier than me, this morning.
On Friday we had a lovely snowstorm that brought us only a couple of inches of snow… but it was fairly wet snow. It stuck to every twig and leaf, and there has been absolutely no wind… so the forests are now a beautiful palette of white, brown, and green.
Snow on the bushes and trees of Lyme Hill.Snow on the pine trees of Lyme Hill; deer tracks show recent passage.
Another snowstorm is due tonight… I’m hoping we’ll get a substantial snowfall that will provide deep powder for snowshoeing and skiing!
Trail signs along the Appalachian Trail to Holts Ledge, passing Trapper John shelter.
I enjoyed photography in 2022 and decided to share my pick of favorites. It was not easy! 12 photos for 12 months – not one per month, but just the twelve that I felt were especially beautiful or interesting. See the full gallery – where I recommend clicking the “play” button to see them as a slideshow – and read on for some commentary about each one.
A walk through Pacific Northwest forest after a recent snowfall.
Today I had the opportunity to visit Jon, a friend and former student, after arriving in Seattle late last night. We drove east of the city to a natural area called Tradition Plateau (and also, it appears, Tiger Mountain). It snowed a little yesterday, so the trails and surroundings were covered with a thin layer of wet and crunchy snow. The verdant forest I so associate with the Pacific Northwest was still evident, as were the incredibly tall and thin cedars and firs of the sort we just don’t see out East.
I missed the first snowfall of the season. I left town on Tuesday night for a business trip to Chicago, and missed the 2″ snowfall that arrived on Wednesday morning. So today, back at home and waking to a brilliant blue-sky day, I was eager to get outdoors. Most of the snow had melted close to home, but we chose a short hike along the Appalachian Trail to the top of Holts Ledge – home of the Dartmouth Skiway. (Things looked very different when I visited seven weeks ago!) We didn’t have to climb far before reaching an elevation with consistent snowcover. It was shallow, and crunchy from several melt-freeze cycles, but it was a wonderful taste of the winter hikes to come!
Descending the Appalachian Trail on Holts Ledge. Lyme NH.
We paused at the top to enjoy the southward views across the Upper Valley and toward Mounts Cardigan and Ascutney. We then strolled over to view the activity at the top of the Dartmouth Skiway, chatting with two fellows who were tinkering with the snowmaking equipment. Only three weeks to opening day!
Snowmaking coats the trees at the top of Dartmouth Skiway. Holts Ledge.
Halfway down the Appalachian Trail we encountered one of those wondrous effects to be seen this time of year: needle ice, where some mud froze, causing the expanding ice to crystallize and push the mud upward into the air.
Crusty ice spires in the mud along the Appalachian Trail on Holts Ledge.
David Kotz 