Hawai'i or Bust: Adventure Travel with a Toddler

Summary of our trip:

No fancy adult beverages with a little umbrellas served to me on a tropical beach.

Come on, motherhood hasn't changed me that much. ;-)

kk gets her beverage - also sans little umbrella (i should make an album of epic nursing photos...)

We've been home a month and a half, and if I don't bang out a trip report right now, it's never going to happen. And I really do enjoy looking back and reminiscing about our dumb/ sketchy/ awesome adventures.

So let's do this. Q&A style. No edits or drafts, start to finish, in one take. Ready set go!

So how was Hawai'i?

Type 2 fun, all the way.

Where did you go?

We started on The Big Island. Made a big clockwise arc around the island, going north from Kona to Spencer Beach Park, up to Pololu Valley, down to Hawaii Volcanoes National Park via Hilo, then back to Kona via the Saddle Road and Mauna Kea. We camped at Spencer Beach Park and Namakanipaio campground (outside HVNP).

toddler's first hike!

Yes, we saw lava, from a distance.

what do a toddler and lava have in common?

Next, we went to Kauai. Camped at Salt Pond Park (3 nights), the unfortunately named Camp Slogett in Waimea Canyon (2 nights), Polihale State Park (1 night), Lydgate State Park (1 night).

did you know that kauai is infested with wild chickens? ear plugs not optional.

Overall, we moved around WAY too much. Way, WAY too much. But we definitely enjoyed our rad minivan rental! Can't wait to get myself one of these sweet rides. (Shut up, Tim.)

i probably should not post this online

How were the flights?

To Hawaii: 11 hours. We had an entire row, 6 seats, to ourselves (!). I hit up the dollar store and wrapped up little trinkets in tissue paper; these provided entertainment not just for the plane ride, but for the subsequent car rides, monsoon afternoons (see below), and hours in the backpack carrier. (We are bad parents.)

To New York: 9 hour red-eye. It was rough. I survived it the same way I survived labor and delivery: white knuckles and ruthless badassity. In other words, KK slept in the front-carrier, and I didn't move a muscle for 5+ hours.

at least someone is getting rest, part 1

February must have been a great time of year - escape the Northeastern winter!

The weather was amazing by Upstate NY standards and awful by Hawaiian standards. We spent some time highish up, so it was anywhere from 60-80 during the day to 35-50 at night. Most days had at least a little rain, which was fine... until the day we were stuck in a flipping monsoon, in a tent, with our toddler.

stake down that tent, holy smokes!

Speaking of that toddler, adventure travel with a toddler is HARD (but totally doable). One of us was always on kid duty, and the other was on camp duty, so there wasn't really any rest.

dave on kid duty; i'm on stove duty. yes we cooked all our meals except for 2.

Wait, what do you mean by camp duty? You camped for 2 weeks with your toddler? WTF is wrong with you? Why didn't you stay in a resort or something?

Pitching a tent/ cooking on a Whisperlite/ bathing in the ocean;
yes;
I don't know;
they're expensive and more importantly, eww.

Um, so how was camping with a toddler?

Let me preface this by saying: previous to parenthood, we rocked a sub 4-pound ultralight single wall 2-person mini-tent. I cut off the dang handle of my toothbrush and measured the weight of my gear in grams (yes really). I did gear, in the sense that I did as little gear as possible.

The secret to camping with little kids is: embrace the Gear-with-capital-G. Our tent weighs 16 lbs (because it fits a 10-lb queen-sized air mattress, because this is how you get a toddler to sleep in a tent). It has a 6-foot peak height (because you need to stand up straight if you're rocking a baby at stupid o'clock). I am simultaneously mortified to roll into camp rocking such a beast and THRILLED that the toddler has space to play when it's monsooning.

This tent and associated 10-lb queen-sized air mattress are backcountry "mom jeans."

And lemme tell you... once you go elastic waist, you don't go back.

one of us is wearing pants with elastic waist, i'm not telling who

Ok, gimme more details. HOW do you camp with a toddler?

Sleeping

• Bedshare and breastfeed at night - or the potent cocktail of sleep deprivation and frustration will make you lose your f****** mind. Oh, and everyone in camp will hate your guts because your kid is wailing all night long. Get out the boobs, snuggle up, and doze until the roosters wake everyone up (that's another story).
• White noise machine. KK sleeps with one at home, and it provided an important source of continuity and routine in camp, as well as muffled the sounds of people laughing/ dogs barking/ music playing. Ours runs on batteries, which we charged in the rental minvan as needed.
• Accept that you are going to get marginally acceptable sleep. But hey, if you've survived parenthood this long, you're used to that.
• Also, instant coffee. Because ain't no one got time for the fancy sh!t.

at least someone is getting rest, part 2

Clothing

• Just like an adult: a hat on the head is worth two layers on the body.
• Also just like an adult: "cotton is rotten." Stick with fleece, nylon, polyester. (If you have a daughter, be prepared to dress her "like a boy," or as I prefer to say, "like a boss." The segmentation of "girls" and "boys" activities and associated apparel starts immediately after birth. Initiate feminist rage.)
• Fleece snowsuit takes the place of a sleeping bag.

dadadadadadadaaaaaa

Feeding

• Watching a camping toddler eat goldfish crackers is like watching a great white shark swim through a school of surfers. It's total carnage and you're going to be finding pieces of goldfish cracker in your sleeping bag for many years to come. Something about the fresh air stimulates the appetite. You can never ever ever have too many packs of goldfish crackers.
• Clip-on high chair + combo placemat/bowl = ability to feed kid without kid wandering off or eating seagull sh!t off the picnic table.

never underestimate the power of cheddar cheese

Hygiene

• Don't use cloth diapers. Just don't. Disposables. Really. I don't care how much of a dirty hippy you are, just trust me on this one.
• Repeat after me: a little dirt never killed anyone, as long as you wash your hands after diaper changes and before eating. No, you are not going to give your kid a bath every night. KK got 2 baths in the 2 weeks we were out. Wipe 'em down with a washcloth and call it a night.

lost one of these sandals around Koke'e. this is why we can't have nice things.

Expectations

...

...

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Wait, why didn't you write anything under "Expectations" above?

It deserves a section of its own, because the hardest thing about this trip was managing my/our expectations.

In our 2 weeks, we had 3 hiking days. THREE (3). Those 3 hiking days were all sub-6 mile days. This is, um, not a lot of hiking. Especially for flying nearly 1/3 of the way around the world. And no backcountry nights at all. Buh bye, Kalalau Trail. 

Previous to KK, Dave and I could run ourselves pretty hard. It was NBD to pack up camp, drive a couple hours, slam out a hike, set up camp, and crash - rinse and repeat the next day.

This time, we were dealing with ANOTHER PERSON who had her own feelings, needs, and desires. (IMO, this is the key distinguishing factor between a baby, who would be as obliviously and happily drooling at the North Korean DMZ border as your kitchen table, and a toddler, who is the human equivalent of the Doomsday Clock at 11:59 p.m.).

i have opinions

On this trip, we had to limit our driving to KK's afternoon nap. When we hiked, we needed to take regular breaks so she could scoot around and stick her hands in the mud and play with our noses. We couldn't have dinner at 9:30 p.m. We had to stop for goldfish crackers, diaper changes, more goldfish crackers, another layer of sunscreen, dear heavens why more goldfish crackers. 

moar goldfishhhhhhhh

 We couldn't "just push through."

Not that we didn't try. It blew up in our faces: it was HARD. And then we learned our lesson, regrouped, and continued on. 

My mantra since becoming a mother is: JUST GET OUT THERE. Counterintuitive as it seems, at this point in young KK's life, it actually does not matter if the trail is 6 miles or 0.6 miles. It doesn't matter if I climb 2 pitches or 20, if those pitches are 5.6 or 5.11. Doesn't matter if I'm camping in Hawaii or my backyard.

Children learn what they live. If I wait until KK is old enough/ strong enough/ communicative enough/ potty trained/ whatever to show her there is more to the world than our living room - it's too late. She's enough, just as she is right now. And to be honest, she doesn't know or care for the difference between a desolate beach at the end of the earth and our cozy living room - as long as her loving parents are there with her.

not poop, but would love her even if it were.

Each of her small experiences builds on the previous. If we want to hike 2,659 miles on the PCT as a family 8 years from now, then I need to go hike 3 miles in Danby State Forest with her tomorrow morning so she sees me pee in the woods and knows that is a normal thing that ladies do when they need to go.

So fine: we only hiked 3 days. Fine! We hiked 3 days in an incredibly beautiful and special corner of this One Great Dewdrop - and we did it as a family. Never thought I'd write those words.

hey mom :o)

Dang. That's deep.

Yeah, I would say motherhood is about as deep as it gets.

pele: goddess of fire

polihale: the end of the earth

home: is wherever i'm with you

Nova Scotia

While Dave was preparing to leave for a 2.5 week mountaineering trip in the Cascades, I decided that he wasn't allowed to have all of the fun - I would have a little adventure of my own.

Destination?  Halifax, Nova Scotia.

Why?  Cheapest flight out of Ithaca to somewhere interesting.

The general plan?  Rent a car, drive somewhere interesting, hike along the way, camp.  No specific itinerary or route, and therefore no reservations.

Of course, I couldn't make it too easy:  no smartphone or GPS for this trip.  I used maps printed on dead trees, questions to friendly passersby, and a healthy dose of serendipity to navigate and plan my next move.  How quaint, eh?

Here are the highlights...

From Halifax, I drove along the southern coast.  This part of the island felt abandoned and overlooked.  I camped at Sheet Harbor and enjoyed the solitude.

grounded

Next was Cape Breton Island, and specifically the Cabot Trail, a scenic drive at the northern tip of the island.  I'd read that the hiking was great and the scenery was superb...  but I thought the hiking was over-rated and the scenery was "just nice."

My favorite location was this little fishing harbor on the western coast that wasn't mentioned anywhere in the tourist brochures:  Pleasant Bay.  The easterly winds were so fierce that they were blowing the waves away from shore!

no waves here

I spent less time than I expected on Cape Breton Island and ended up in Pictou, the terminus of the Prince Edward Island ferry.  PEI was never part of the plan, but the ferry was right there, and free going over to PEI.  How could I resist?

Prince Edward Island was beautiful:  agricultural, quaint, rural, colorful.  I spent only one day, driving across the southern part of the island, stopping to see whatever caught my fancy.  A highlight of the trip, and completely unplanned!

point prim

life-changing clam chowder - now i understand!

growing potatoes

From PEI, I checked out Cape Chignecto and its hiking trails at the tip of the Bay of Fundy, home of the world's highest tides.  Once again, the hiking at Cape Chignecto was over-rated, and I stayed for much less time than I had expected.  (Side note:  Cape Chignecto has a 3-4 day coastal backpacking loop that looks very exciting and beautiful, but already my pack's hipbelt is uncomfortable, so that wasn't an option for me on this trip.)

Instead, I continued on to Five Islands and camped at the provincial park there, high on a bluff overlooking the Minas Basin.

not even low tide.  crazy.

I looped around the Bay of Fundy and ended up at another favorite place, Delaps Cove.  The camp steward recommended a silly little walk in the equivalent of a county park here in the States, and for whatever reason, it captured my fancy.  I think this highlights the value of wandering, being open to suggestions, and having no fear of adjusting your plan on the fly.

uh, where's the water?

I also enjoyed a cone of "Privateer's Bounty," vanilla ice cream with salted toffee and black licorice jelly.  That probably didn't hurt my opinion of the area.  :o)

I passed by Kejimkujik National Park and did a few more hikes.  This park is best enjoyed by canoeing or kayaking, but the parts I saw on foot reminded me of the Adirondacks.

"keji"

Along the southern shore, west of Halifax, I ran into Tourism Central.  The historical town of Lunenburg and the photogenic lighthouse of Peggy's Cove are mentioned in every tourist brochure, and while they are lovely, I passed by many more beautiful villages and lighthouses that were not swarming with people.

peggy's cove from afar - those black dots are people

Also, I can't believe I have written this much with only one photo of a lighthouse.  Seriously, the Nova Scotia coastline is covered with lighthouses.  Here, have another:

ridiculously cute, no?

This was my last solo trip for many years (the thumping in my lower abdomen makes it hard to forget), and that made it very special.  I intended a mostly hiking trip, and because the hikes were short, easy, and somewhat boring, it turned into a mostly road trip.  I'm happy I didn't have a plan and was able to discover places for myself.

Slowing Down on the Olympic Peninsula

The first few weeks of this trip were really hectic.  We'd hike or climb during the day, then drive, finding a place to crash when the sun was low in the sky.  Dave set camp while I cooked; we'd eat, clean up, and crash.  In the morning, the tent came down as the sun came up, and we were on to the next adventure.  With the big Yosemite adventure smack dab in the middle of the calendar, we had so many places to visit, and so little time left.  So we'd go faster and harder.

It rained in Washington.  Not very hard - but constantly.  Big mountains hid in the clouds, and I never did see Rainier, except the visitor's center diorama.  

I spent a few days damp to my core, wrapped in layers of fleece, trying to stay warm.  The car smelled like wet hiking socks, slug mucus, and last night's rice and beans.  All of our gear was sitting in puddles of water in contractor bags.

tent floating in 3-4 inches of water

It was mildly miserable, just uncomfortable enough to make us realize that our deeper discomfort from constant running-running-running-faster was totally self-inflicted.

tent covered in 3-4 inch banana slugs

The Olympic peninsula wasn't on our original itinerary.  But people kept mentioning it, again and again, with intensity.  It was special, they said.

A special rainforest is a good place to wait out the rain.

Time to slow down on the Olympic peninsula.

There's nothing to see except what's close to the ground.

There's nothing to do except that which we are doing right now.

There is time to look at moss.

There is time to count the blades on a fern.

There is time to stand in the rain.

ruby beach

There is time to be with wildflowers.

There is time to make friends with a slug.

There is time to hike ten miles up to a mountain pass, even when you know you won't see anything in the clouds at the top.

There are plenty of mossy green streams on the way up for your eyes.

We camped in the Olympic National Forest,

...walked along Ruby Beach,

......took 2 hours to meander the ¾ mile “Hall of Mosses” trail at the Hoh Rainforest, and

.........hiked to Marmot Pass on the east side of the peninsula.

And I can say I agree with every person who mentioned this place.  It's special, very special.

Married on Marcy

On Saturday, June 15th, I married my most favorite person on the planet (that would be Davo!) in one of our most favorite places on the planet (that would be the summit of Mt. Marcy in Adirondacks!).

It was epic.

awww heck yeah!

And since it was fairly dang epic, I figure it deserves a little trip report.



Day 1 (in blue), Friday June 14th:  Loj to Marcy Dam, Avalanche Pass, Avalanche Lake & the Hitch-up Matildas, Lake Colden, and up the Opalescent River to a tent site near Feldspar Lean-To.

Highlights:
**a sandwich with about 3/4'' of meat and cheese at Avalanche Pass;
**cussing my head off trying to navigate around Avalanche Lake with a pack loaded with champagne and a wedding dress;
**the lovely hike up the Opalescent River, very pretty.

Conditions were pretty good along these sections of trail; everything was about as muddy as I expected (and not nearly as bad as later in the trip).  A thunderstorm rolled through in the early evening, but otherwise the weather was decent.  Didn't experience too many blackflies, either.  The hiking was more tiring than I was expecting; not only were we carrying four days worth of food, we were carrying nicer (i.e. heavier) food, plus some champagne, plus all of our wedding clothes and stuffs, etc.

looking back at Avalanche Lake

Day 2 (in purple):  Marcy, Skylight, and Grey

Highlights:
**Holy guacamole, we got married!!

The quick story...  we had been watching the weather obsessively since late May, and it looked like 6/15 would be clear and cold.  That'll do!

We got up early and left camp by 7:00.  I did my hair at Lake Tear of the Clouds, source of the Hudson River.  This is about the point that the butterflies started in my stomach.
The hike from Feldspar Leanto to Marcy is straight forward.  I half regret not trying for the summit at dawn, but then again, I like sleeping and wanted to be mentally sound for such an important day.  I washed my boots at the timberline so they wouldn't wipe mud all over my dress, and then we finished the hike to the summit.  Putting on makeup 10 miles from the nearest road is a surreal experience.

And then it was time to get married.

So how did this all work?  We were legally married in the State of New York in early May, so we did not need an officiant for our ceremony.  In our experience, involving God or the government in a promise between two human beings does not seem to improve the odds of success.  Instead, we had a self-uniting ceremony (legal in Colorado and Pennsylvania!), reading our vows to each other and exchanging rings.

It was one of the most important, emotionally charged, memorable, and special memories of my life.  :-)

The weather at the summit was great - clear, cold, and windy, but not so bad that I couldn't take off my coat for a few photos!  We stayed on the summit, just enjoying the views and relaxing, for about two hours.  We both ended up with sunburn on our noses.

Finally, it was time to drag ourselves away from the summit.  We put on our awesome "Just Married!" shirts and hiked back down to Four Corners.

The hike up Skylight was straightforward, and we lingered on the summit, talking to some other hikers.  The hike up Grey was also straightforward, though a bit messier, and with fewer views, so we didn't linger quite as long.  We returned to camp in the late afternoon, having taken something like 9 hours to cover the 6 mile day.

We greeted a DEC ranger, who would be the last person we would see for the next 36 hours.  That was one of my favorite parts of the trip - time totally alone with my new husband, getting used to the feeling of being married.

Good thing we like each other, because our weather window got smashed with a baseball bat on Sunday.

Day 3 (in yellow):  Redfield and Cliff Mountains

Highlights:
**We didn't get hypothermia or zapped by lightening.  Count yer blessings.
**The trail on Redfield was more fun and more interesting than I was expecting for a "trailless" peak.
**Laying in the tent with my new husband, playing the letter game to pass the time while it rained.
**Running around, collecting our stuff in the rain, and sprinting to the lean-to to set up a dry camp - hilarious!

Tried to wake up early to beat the afternoon thunderstorms, but man Day Three always kicks my butt.  We got a decently early start, slightly after 7:00 a.m.  The hike up Redfield was straight forward, following a river that turned into a creek that turned into a drainage, the trail joining and splitting from the water.  We didn't stay long at the top, expecting the weather to turn, and by the time we reached the junction for the Cliff Mtn. trail it had started to drizzle.

Conditions on Cliff were pretty bad - extremely muddy.  There were a few times that I was thankful for my climbing skills, as it was more secure to throw in a hand jam than attempting to palm a wet sloper.  We did our best to climb carefully, not to pull on vegetation, not to slip all over the place, in a lame attempt to minimize erosion, but I don't know if there's much that can be done when the trails look like ^that^ (other than come back another day, but I don't know if this mountain is ever not a huge pile of muddy cliffs).

By the time we reached the top, it was raining.  I was not psyched for the descent.

Back at camp, we stripped off our wet clothes and hopped in the tent to dry.  2:00 p.m.  Lots of time until dinner and bedtime.  Good thing we like each other.

As soon as our tent started doing this:

I knew it was time to make a break for it.  We grabbed all of our stuff and moved over to the now vacant Feldspar Lean-To.  Finally, some room to spread out, hang up our soaking wet gear, and cook dinner in a dry space!

Day 4 (in red):  Feldspar Lean To to Lake Arnold, Indian Falls, Tabletop Mountain, Marcy Dam, and the Loj

Highlights:

**Making it across the sketchiest bog crossing I have ever experienced

**Summiting our sixth mountain in four days

**Arriving at a Marcy Dam lean-to just as thunderstorm rolled through

**Having rationed just enough food not to be hungry

Man, it sucks to put on wet boots in the morning.  You know what sucks even more?  This:

That crossing, somewhere between Feldspar Lean To and Lake Arnold, is AWFUL.  Those logs aren't resting on anything - they're floating.  And that log to the left?  It rolls.  I may have had a minor freak out.  Dave had to walk first me, and then my pack, across.  Thanks, honey!  After a night of hiking, this trail on the south/east side of Colden (which is usually wet to begin with) was a total mess.

The rest of the hike wasn't too bad, though my pack was so heavy that I was really struggling.  We stopped at Indian Falls for a very quick photo (hmm, look at those clouds over Algonquin), then quickly ran up Tabletop Mountain.  Dave commented that we made it up there quickly, and I said "Sure we did - I get to eat a Clif Bar at the top!"  Yeah, food was running a bit low at that point.  Made it to Marcy Dam just as the heavens opened and a thunderstorm rolled through.  Luckily for us, it was a convenient lunch stop, so we ate some food and waited out the rain.

The walk from Marcy Dam to the Loj was pretty special.  We entered the woods as individuals and emerged a new little family unit.  With the mud, the rain, the blackflies, and the heavy packs, we had no need to smash a glass in the Jewish tradition at our ceremony - we had already experienced our trials and emerged stronger as a result.

checking out of the trail register...  mr. and mrs.

And that was the trip.  It was everything we had hoped for, and then a little bit more.

May there be many miles of happy trails in our future.  :-)

P.S.  More photos here.

P.P.S.  We made an awesome album using Shutterfly - check it out!

Click here to view larger photo book