Autumn: New England's Finest (Climbing) Season

Fall is the season to be in New England. The oppressive humidity of summer has lifted, replaced by crisp air, crisper apples and crunchy leaves. The sun is now a welcomed sight, thawing the first frosts, and the rolling hills are transformed from waves of uniform green to speckled yellow, red and orange—we like to forget about the brown oaks. Every weekend one small town or another hosts a fair, with fresh pressed apple cider, oxen pulls and 700 pound pumpkins, and coffee shops, restaurants and local breweries begin making everything apple and pumpkin flavored, from pumpkin maple lattes to apple crisp to pumpkin cheesecake. New England entertains each of the senses with its fall delights.

The first hints of fall at Sandwich Crag in Sandwich, NH. 

Autumn is also the best time to climb in the Northeast. Summer is the wrong kind of “sticky,” with your hands sweating off even the largest of jugs. Winter is too cold, bringing on numb fingers and toes and later the screaming barfies. Spring simply doesn’t exist. But fall is perfect. Crisp mornings and evenings for bouldering, sunny afternoons for sport climbing and the most amazing, colorful views for trad climbing on White Horse, Cathedral and, best of all, Cannon. On warm September days, you can climb in a t-shirt and belay in a light jacket, never cold but never overheating. On the crisper days of late October, you can find sunny crags to keep your fingers warm on long pitches and wrap yourself in the comfort of a down jacket to belay. Your rest days can be spent apple picking, baking, hiking through peak foliage season and getting lost in corn mazes.

Crunching through colorful leaves between boulders in Lincoln Woods or down the hill into Pawtuckaway adds a little spice to the approach. The crisper temperatures lead to the perfect balance between cool, sticky rock for gripping crimps and slopers and air just warm enough to prevent your your shoe rubber from hardening and glassing off tiny edges. You can bring a thermos of hot apple cider to warm your hands and refuel between burns and munch on toasted pumpkin seeds while you take a break to jump in a pile of leaves.

The sun goes down earlier than in June, but there’s still plenty of light until dinnertime to get in a full days worth of climbing even with a two hour drive—sometimes more or less depending on where you live—to North Conway or Rumney, and, if you get to the crag before noon, you can still enjoy a chilled pumpkin spice brew while, exhausted from working your project, you watch the sunset intensify the blazing foliage. 

There are few things more enjoyable after a long day of climbing than sipping warm pumpkin soup or munching on hot apple cider donuts encased in cinnamon sugar. You’re tired, hungry and have earned your treat.  You can still camp at the crag, though a 20 degree bag is recommended for October, and crawling into your down cocoon with only your nose poking out into the frosty air is like being wrapped in a warm hug for the night.

Alex Honnold once chided me for talking about climbing in New England for the fall. When I told him he should check it out, he reminded me: “There’s this place called Yosemite.” Yes, I’ve heard of Yosemite; I hear it’s quite spectacular. One can spend days on the side of the cliff, never having to set foot on the ground. There’s no El Cap in Maine, Vermont or New Hampshire, and you probably won’t be hanging your portaledge halfway up Cannon, but if you’re on the East Coast, or would like to give some Northeast granite and schist a try, then fall is the time to visit New England.

So, whether you're a local or just passing through, you might as well snap a few pictures of the foliage and sample some homemade apple crisp from a fair vendor while you’re here climbing.  

Spice up your PB+J Life

I love peanut butter. I love jelly. And I love smearing both of them on bread, cutting the result diagonally, putting it into a plastic bag—which I reuse—and finally sliding the compact snack into the top of my backpack. However, I cannot eat the same strawberry preserves on whole wheat, seed-infused bread with Teddy peanut butter every time I climb. Sometimes you have to branch out. Here’s how:

BREAK OUT A NEW NUT BUTTER: Peanut butter is delicious, but, after years of putting it on sandwiches, bagels, apples and Oreos, it can get a little old. Try eating almond, cashew, soy nut or, my favorite, sun butter; just don’t think they’ll taste like peanut butter, cause they won’t, and you’ll hate them.

If you’re nervous about eating a new nutty spread, you can try new flavors of peanut butter. The Vermont Peanut Butter Company has flavors from “Maple Walnut” to white-chocolate infused “Avalance” to “Mad River Moja,” a blend of peanuts, almonds, cranberries, flax, pumpkin seeds, honey and cinnamon—no jelly necessary. If you are less adventurous with your peanut butter than your outdoor activities, you can always switch from creamy to chunky pb for a texture change.

SLATHER ON A FRESH SPREAD: You can put more than just jelly on your pb. Try a pb and honey or, if you have the real thing, a pb and maple syrup sandwich. Nutella is another option for chocolate hazelnut lovers. For those looking for a healthier option, try a pb and banana sandwich—it's an excellent way to carry a banana without squishing it into your backpack. Don’t like bananas? Try thinly sliced apples on a sandwich or rolled up in a pb and apple wrap (see breads below).

JUMP FOR A NEW JELLY: Sometimes you still want the salty-sweet combo of the pb+j—no other nut butter or sugary spread will do—but having your 57^th Concord grape jam sandwich in a row just isn’t cutting it. Try buying a new jelly or some preserves. If you always go for strawberry, try grape, blackberry, raspberry or peach. If you want to get even more creative and spicy, try a pepper jelly, pineapple habanero jelly or strawberry chipotle jam. If you’re really adventurous, pick up some beer jelly, carrot cake jam or coffee jelly. Stop by a local farmer’s market for more funky homemade flavors.

BULK UP WITH A DIFFERENT BREAD: If you love pb+j but are tired of the sandwich, then try a pb+j wrap or pita. Or grab a new type of bread; pick up a loaf of honey wheat for a sweeter touch or 79+ grain for a more interesting texture. Made French toast for breakfast, or need an excuse to? Use the leftovers for a sweet vehicle for your pb+j or pb and maple syrup.

THINK OUTSIDE OF THE BOX: Have you tried a pb+j and fried egg sandwich? I hadn’t until this summer, and it was surprisingly not disgusting; it also packs some extra protein without taking up much precious space. I’d recommend going for over-medium or over-hard to avoid mopping up egg joke on a belay ledge.

Two words: Hot sauce. If you enjoy dumping spicy sauce on everything from your scrambled eggs to midnight spaghetti, then why not try a spicy pb+j?

If you’re feeling spicy and adventurous, make a hot sauce and fried egg pb+j. It’s a picnic breakfast and lunch all in one.
For a more dessert-esque variation, make a grilled pb+j. Make your favorite pb+j or variation then spread butter on the outside of each slice of bread and heat in a frying pan like you would a grilled cheese. Cut in half diagonally and enjoy. 

And then there’s the other answer: JUST TRY A WHOLE NEW SANDWICH.

Climbing Preferences Through the Years: A Pie Chart

        

Two Years of Climbing

It’s official: I’ve been climbing for two years. Now you're probably thinking wow she's still a newbie. I am. I still don’t have enough confidence in my placements to fall on gear. I haven't sent 5.14. Or 5.13. Or even my first 5.12 yet. However, I've been dreaming of rocks and occasionally plastic since a high school friend convinced me to go to our local—read it’s basically a barn—gym in Quechee, Vermont, a week before my freshman year of college.

I've made some interesting outfit choices over the years...
Photo by HP 40 enthusiast Sarah Gallimore

This first non-fifth-grade-birthday-party gym experience was WAY harder than I expected. I had never understood what all those tape strips on the wall were for. I promptly learned. And struggled. A lot. I considered myself in-shape, having run four years of varsity cross country in high school, for which training included lifting 5 pound dumbbells a few times. My 5k times did little to help me up each route, and I fell at least 11 times on each of the 25-foot 5.8s I tried. The little muscle I’d gained bussing tables that summer was the only thing that got me up the wall a measly four times before I could no longer lift my arms. But I liked the feeling of going up. I also wanted a new identity in college, not the straight-A, type-A, runner I’d been known as in high school. The University of New Hampshire club climbing team seemed like the answer; they didn't cut anyone.

A lot has happened in two years. I've sent a few 5.11s, bouldered one V5- (yes, I’m a highly unimpressive boulderer), and plugged a few pieces gear. But those aren't the most important things. I’ve gotten to sample sandstone and Limestone in Colorado, shredded my skin on slopers in Horse Pens 40, toproped wet sandstone at Horseshoe Canyon Ranch, bouldered in Pawtuckaway State Park and Lincoln Woods, placed cams on Cathedral, cleaned my way up Cannon and in Acadia, and found the my favorite 5.11b in Maine’s Evan’s notch. I’ve broken my ankle, had bicep tendonitis in both my right shoulder and right elbow, and potentially broke my hand projecting a traverse. I even interned at a climbing magazine—that’s when you know you're obsessed. I’ve since “graduated” from the climbing team, having put all of my extra time into climbing outdoors, but I still keep my love of climbing absolutely anything—plastic, slabs, roofs, vertical crimps, trees, buildings—with me. Climbing combines all my favorite things: being outside, going up, exercising, using my mind and being with friends.

So what have I learned in two years? Obviously the basics: how to tie a figure 8, how to lead belay, how to avoid putting my harness on upside down and twisted. But I’ve also found an activity to keep me sane. I’m still just as type-A as I was in high school, but I have something that allows me to forget about classes, family conflicts, grocery shopping, and all the other cares in life that demand my attention most of the time. I’ve learned that the best friends I have are those who say yes every time I wake them up at 6:30 in the morning on a whim, hoping they'll want to drive to Rumney with me. I’ve learned that when life seems like too much and I’ve worked myself into a stress-induced state of mania, an afternoon Pawtuckaway bouldering session is the remedy for putting the importance of essays and German exams back into their non-life-or-death place. I’ve learned that with a little time management, an assignment book and occasional sleeplessness, one can climb outside every weekend while taking five college classes and working two jobs. I've also learned that sometimes you climb ten pitches and other times you climb two in the rain, but I never regret a day I've gone out and at least attempted to climb.