Mountain Time: Fall at 10,000 Feet

At the beginning of October, we drove north to Colorado to see friends in Denver and hike in the mountains. We traipsed along at Red Rocks and got caught in a few rainstorms in the city parks. It never rains like this, my friend told me as we raced for the shelter of the car. Rain in Denver turned to snow at higher altitudes and a few days later as we drove south towards Leadville and then Buena Vista, we were rewarded with snow covered peaks, Mt. Massive and Mt. Elbert included.

The sun came out as we circled the lake, melting some of the snow, burning the heavy clouds away. The next morning we hiked near Buena Vista, in between the peaks of Harvard and Yale, to a high mountain meadow and a small alpine lake, alone on the trail save for a handful of trail runners. I want to do that, Silas and I said to each other at the same time after a runner passed us by. A few moments later, the runner stepped lightly back to us, There’s a porcupine on the trail, watch out, and was off again. Our dog met one once before, on a coastal trail in Nova Scotia, not quite a face to face standoff, but she still caught a stray needle from the ground in her cheek, and we were happy to be of assistance.

All photos by me, Becca Grady, 2022.

Tofino Air: Vancouver Island Mountains

When the fog lifted in Tofino, over a year ago now, we heard the soon familiar low diesel whine of the seaplanes taking off and landing at the dock just in front of the small studio we rented for the week. Sonia and I decided to see for ourselves.

It was the perfect day for it. Enough clouds for a few moody photographs, and enough sun to glint all over everything.

All photographs by me, Becca Grady.

Vancouver Island: Tofino and Ucluelet

Our visit to Vancouver Island feels like a lifetime ago. At the end of 2019, my partner Silas had a conference in Vancouver, so we tacked on a week on the island and soaked up all the salty air and rain and fog. I still find myself dreaming in these pictures some days. Especially in the desert sun when even my skin feels parched.

We stayed in a studio in Tofino. We drove to all of the beaches, Chesterman, Cox Bay, and Long Beach, and walk. I balanced on giant pieces of slippery driftwood. We watched the gulls flock together along the shoreline, and the eagles spread their wings wide at the forest’s edge.

All photographs by me, Becca Grady.

Slow Travel: Vancouver Last Year

I’m walking slowly this year. So far at least. Down the rail trail near my house. The dog wants to walk faster. Or she wants to stop altogether. She’s found something interesting along the way.

The mountains are all around. The tops dusted with snow. No travel for a while yet. So I’m digging through my photos from a year ago.

Silas had an anthropology conference in Vancouver, so I tagged along. While they attended the conference, I wandered around the city. I walked across Stanley Park. Around the sea wall. Watching the sea planes take off and land. A light whine against the busy city and the gulls’ cries.

It was lush, even in winter. The leaves had fallen but the greens were still vivid.

I found a good perch on the sea wall and watched them land, gas up on the floating station, and dock. Mountains and the ocean, together, this is the place for me.

all photographs by me, Becca Grady.

The In Between, A Ferry Ride

A year ago, almost to the day, Silas and I took the ferry from Vancouver to Vancouver Island. It was grey, chilly, the in between fall and winter in the Pacific Northwest. The decks were empty, windswept, with salt spray in the air.

Here in New Mexico, we’re back in lockdown. Covid is skyrocketing here, well everywhere really.

Here in the desert the sun is keeping us warm, unseasonably warm. Everything is dry, parched. No water in sight. Even Abiquiu Lake, an hour from here, is low.

The mountains have been a balm all summer and fall, but not a day goes by that I don’t wish I could jump right in, no matter how cold, and wake up with the brisk ocean waves.

So until we’re out of the woods and it’s safe to travel again, I’ll be dreaming about the oceans and crossing my fingers that next summer holds a beach day and a boat ride for me.

all photographs by me, Becca Grady, November 2019.

A Hike in the Pecos, Stewart Lake

Stewart Lake is an 11.5 mile loop hike to an alpine lake in the Pecos Wilderness, about an hour and twenty minutes from Santa Fe. Silas and I have hiked this several times since moving here. It’s a beautiful hike and we wanted to get one last trip to the Pecos in before the snow flew, so we headed out to catch the last of the autumn aspens.

Minus the month and change of a broken toe and limited mobililty, we’ve tried to hit the trails at least one day a week. The mostly Saturdays spent in the woods, far from cell reception, without emails, and usually with few other people, have been a balm this year.

Our dog Maisie loves looking at the lake but dislikes getting her paws wet.

Silas really likes tall grasses

all photographs by me, Becca Grady

Abiquiu Sunrise

Silas and I woke up at four am to get to the car to drive the hour to Abiquiu Lake just before the sun rose. Honestly I thought I was going to miss it as we sped along past the Georgia O’Keefe center and Bode’s and the sky was starting to lighten, but we made it to our perch, just over the dam on the Chama River, to watch the sun come up over the mesas.

We recently adopted a dog, Maisie. A two year old blue heeler mix from the Española shelter, she was still adjusting to life with us. The early morning wake up definitely confused her and we’ve been paying the price ever since. She now thinks four am is the new six am. She hated the car ride, but was happy to check out the scenery in Abiquiu.

Once the sun was up and the air began to warm, we went down to the Chama River for a walk.

all photographs by me, Becca Grady.

Springtime in Kentucky at Mammoth Caves and Four Roses

While we are all stuck at home during this lockdown, I’ve been traveling instead to the past, to my photo archives, revisiting old trips.

This week, I came across some photos from a trip a while back to Kentucky. It was early spring then, as it is now, trees were starting to get the hint of green, and fruit trees were exploding with blossoms. I drove to Mammoth Cave National Park, and stayed for a few days.

It was chilly and rainy, but that doesn’t matter when you’re plan is to head underground. Underground it’s damp anyways. Most of the caves are accessible only on a tour, with a guide, along a fairly well marked path. Some trails are harder than other, and some have lots of stairwells put in to make them more accessible. The first cave I ever went into at Mammoth Caves had an entrance that was a glass revolving door. The guide said it helped to keep the cave climate intact, not letting in too much air at once. It felt like entering any old shopping center or office building but this one sent you into cave instead.

Some of the ceilings and walls have graffiti, names drawn on with candle light or matches.

Perhaps less of an attraction are the trails above ground, but there are lots , and it’s really beautiful, especially in the early spring when everything is just starting to come alive.

On the way home, I stopped in at Four Roses to taste some bourbon and learn a bit more about how they make it. Four Roses has always been a favorite of mine, so it was fun to get to visit them. They have two locations, one where everything is made, and a second where they handle all the distribution. Sadly, I didn’t get to see it being made, as the location on my route home was focused on distribution, but it was still fun to see! I loved seeing the old buildings, and it was fun to see all the barrels lined up.

Do you have any favorite spots to visit in Kentucky?

All photographs by me, Becca Grady.

A Day At Point Reyes

While I’m at home with travel plans on hold, I’ve been sifting through old photos and picking out my favorites. It’s a nice way to revisit memories, find inspiration in older work, and (also important but perhaps less exciting) get organized.

I took film photographs with my old pentax 35mm throughout high school and college, but stopped taking photos for a few years in my twenties. I had gotten really into making artist books and comics, so I was drawing most of those days, instead of taking photographs. Around the time I started thinking about going to graduate school, I decided that I wanted to start taking photos again, and made the switch to digital. These photos are from a trip to California in those early grad school days.

I was visiting my friend Ben, and we met up with his good friends Claire and Gabe, and drove out to Point Reyes, to the lighthouse and beach. On the way we saw a few cars had pulled over next to a farm, and followed suit. A cow had given birth just moments before. We watched as the mom cleaned the baby gently, gave it a little nudge and it took its first steps. It really is magic. Can you imagine being able to stand up when you’re less than an hour old?

I remember this whole trip as being magical. I love the northern California landscape with all of its micro climates. The fog enveloped us, showing us bits and pieces of the world in full detail, and blurring out the rest.

One day I hope to get back here for another visit.

All photographs by me, Becca Grady.

Why I love Maine in the winter

Growing up in Maine, summers at the beach, in all their sandy, salty glory are embedded in my memory. I can still taste the salt on my upper lip after a day in the ocean. Less appealing but equally memorable was the moment at home, taking my swimsuit off in the shower and finding seaweed that had been kicked up from a storm and had traveled home with me, piling up on the bottom of the tub, mixed in with any leftover sand. We also took seaweed home on purpose, to my childish embarrassment. At the end of every beach day, my mom would fill up the trunk of the car, or a box in our VW camper van with seaweed to take home to the garden. Winter was equally glorious. Snow days were spent sledding at the dump (now a recycling center), ice skating on Roger’s Pond, and somewhere in Alfred, I can’t quite remember was a barn that we would skate in. Mom would make homemade snow cones, snow and maple syrup. She even made the maple syrup, hammering taps into our handful of maple trees and hanging buckets up to catch the sap. The sap would simmer on the stovetop for hours, until it reached its golden sugary perfect consistency. Or not, occasionally they would simmer too long and become a blackened mess that took days to clean out of the pan.

Winter was the time after the tourists went home. Each year of my childhood they seemed to stay longer, all summer, then the leaf peepers in Fall, then the Halloween tour buses that would arrive to go to the haunted houses on Summer Street, then Christmas Prelude in the port. But come January, everyone went home. The beaches were quiet, and most shops and restaurants closed up till March. As I grew older, and got my driver’s license, winters became even better. I would borrow my parents’ car, get a gas station cappuccino, turn up the stereo extra loud (Mazzy Star - rest in peace David Roback, DJ Shadow, Portishead, Tricky, all on tape) and drive around the beaches, empty, cold, and beautiful.

I live across the country now, in a quite a different landscape, in New Mexico. We get snow and cold wind too, but we have mountains instead of waves. I went home in January this year and was reminded of just how much I love Maine in the winter, January in particular. The flights were cheap and half full, with the holiday rush over. There were snowstorms of course, but thankfully it only slowed down the driving, and not my flights. I stay with my mom when I go home, in her tiny cabin in the woods. We drove around the beach, went for walks, made lots of coffee and good food. The beaches were empty, just how I like them. With a few folks off in the distance, leaving their footprints behind, but also leaving us space to be alone with the wind and the ocean. The beach is extra special after a storm, the sky still cloudy and grey, but beginning to calm, and slowly to let the sun back in.

Mom, just after the snow stopped, on the pier in Cape Porpoise.

All photographs by me, Becca Grady.

Venice in a Snowstorm

It didn’t start off like the photo above. It was a winter day, almost ten years ago. My friend Nicole and I left Bologna for Venice on the early train. It was grey and chilly. We were taking the long way back to Torino, with a day, really just a few hours, to wander around Venice. It was quiet, decidedly not tourist season, and the cold kept everyone indoors.

Eventually the grey skies opened up and Venice became a magical snowy wonderland. I was dressed for warmer Northern Italian weather, wearing my purple oxfords with zero tread on the bottom, and I slid around like crazy on the cobbled streets and stone bridges.

I’ve been trying to organize my photo archives, and found myself revisiting this trip. It seems fitting to share these photos today, in Santa Fe, New Mexico, a world away, and almost a decade later, in the middle of a snowstorm. I went for a walk in the afternoon, and the snow was pelting down, hard and fast and wet, just like the snow in these photos, taken across the ocean.

Have you been to Venice? Have you been in the snow? What are your favorite spots? I would love to visit again for a bit longer, so send me all of your recommendations!

All photographs by me, Becca Grady.

A Long Wintry Weekend in Nederland Colorado

At the weird moment between just before it’s officially winter, when the snow is already falling in the mountains, Silas and I drove up to Colorado for a long weekend. Nederland is a small town at 8,000 feet about a half hour from Boulder. We ended up there accidentally on a trip to the Rocky Mountain National Park in 2016, and liked it so much we went back for a week in 2018. Silasi had a work meeting nearby, and we realized the only way we’d have time to go again this year was if we mixed work and weekend.

Winter in Nederland lasts from October to May, as the proprieter of the outdoor clothing store, Mountain Man, told us on our first trip here. As predicted, there was a snowstorm on our second day. The reservoir in the center of town still wasn’t frozen over, so the snow melted and the water steamed as it hit the cold temperatures.

With all the snow, we thought that some of the rocky, narrow and steep mountain trails would be inaccessible or too slippery. So we headed for a great trail just outside of town at the Caribou Ranch Open Space, that we remembered from our previous visit. It’s fairly wide and flat, so it was an easy snowy walk, especially since we’d brought our micro spikes.

On our last morning, before starting the drive back to Santa Fe, we walked up some of the streets that climb up and look down over the town and reservior. The air was crisp and cold, but the sun came out, and we met a fox along the way.

Nederland is officially one of my happy places. With mountains, water, snow, foxes, horses, and a lot of crystals at the rock shop it ticks all the boxes. We schemed about how to have a mountain cabin one day, worked, got frustrated with work, went back to scheming about said mountain cabin and took a lot of baths. 

A Hike to Cape Split, Nova Scotia

It’s the middle of winter and I haven’t been doing a whole lot of hiking lately. I have been dreaming about it, especially the beautiful Summer hike I did out to Cape Split in Nova Scotia.

This hike is a Grant family tradition. Silas and family love this trail. It’s a relatively short hike. Looking back, I doubt I’d have said that prior to moving to New Mexico. About an hour and a half drive from Halifax, Cape Split is on the Bay of Fundy. The trail winds up through the trees, and most of the way you only quick views of the water nearby. We went shortly after a big hurricane, and there were tons of trees down everywhere along the trail. Crews were still clearing the trail in many places.

I love the smell of the woods and salt air, mixed together. I especially love the moment when the trail opens up, to a clearing, almost at the end of the world. There are tall grasses, lots of gulls in the air, huge drops and cliffsides, a visible tide line in the Bay of Fundy, lots of lichen on the rock face (thanks to all those gulls), wildflowers, and lots of great spots for a picnic.

It’s windy up there. If you go, pack a windbreaker for the top!

Rockscapes at Peggy's Cove in Nova Scotia

Peggy’s Cove is about a 50 minute drive from Halifax, where Soni’s family lives. We went on a grey, almost rainy weekday, which worked in our favor as it’s a very touristed + photographed spot. There were a few tour buses in the parking lot when we arrived. I can’t imagine what this place is like on summer weekends! As ever, I love seeing places in the slightly off season, when the weather it a touch moodier and the tourists are scarce. Can you tell I grew up in a tourist town?

The rocks are unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. Large expanses of rock with shallow and deep cracks make up the shoreline here. Looking at it from a distance, the rocks take on a sea-like quality, with the soft undulations of the granite, echoing the Atlantic just beyond. My favorite thing as a kid, much to my parents chagrin, was running as fast as I could on the rocks, on the jetty out to the water, and around tide pools at the beach. This would have been heaven for me as a kid.

Signs posted around the lighthouse warn to stay off of the black (wet) rocks, as it’s easy to get caught unawares and swept away by a wave if you’re not careful. Indeed, when I looked up Peggy’s Cove later, the word that gets attached to it in many articles is “deadly” and “black rocks”. We didn’t go onto the black rocks, and weren’t tempted. We opted instead for a hot tea in the gift shop.

A Morning on Campobello Island

From the town of Lubec, Maine you can see across the border to Canada. At West Quoddy Head Light, you can see the back of Grand Manan Island. In town, in Lubec, you can see the shores and lighthouse on Campobello Island. There is a bridge to Campobello Island, with a small border crossing station set up on either side. We had a little bit of extra time before driving to New Brunswick and then onto Nova Scotia, and decided to visit. It was my first time visiting Canada twice in one day!

Not really knowing where we were going, we decided to just drive across the island. We reached the other side and found a lighthouse - the Head Harbor Light Station. It’s only accessible at low tide. We arrived well past low tide, and the staircases on either side led down into the water. The tides here are quite strong and dramatic, as you can see in some of the photographs below. If I ever make it back to Lubec and Campobello, I’d love to take a boat out in the harbor. It was so beautiful!

We drove back across the island to the second lighthouse, Mulholland Lighthouse. This one is visible from the town of Lubec, and you can see Lubec across the water in the background. We were hoping to catch sight of a whale, as some folks we met in town told us they were often seen, but sadly they didn’t visit us that day. We did get a few seal visitors though, before heading back across the bridge as we set off for New Brunswick, and our second visit to Canada.

At the Edge of the US in Lubec Maine

My mom took a road trip by herself a few years ago, driving all the way up the coast of Maine. She stayed in Lubec for a few days, driving over the bridge onto Campobello Island and into Canada. Lubec is the northeastern most point of the US, and its lighthouse is iconic. She told us all about the trip, and I’ve been dreaming about going ever since. In May, when Soni and I were planning a trip to Maine and Nova Scotia to visit both of our families, we decided to fly to Portland, stay with my family for a week, then take the ferry from Bar Harbor, Maine to Yarmouth, Nova Scotia. This was another dream of mine, to take the ferry again to Nova Scotia. When I was a kid, we took a family vacation to Nova Scotia and rode the ferry. I loved it! I especially remember my dad sneaking me into the casino where I used a slot machine for the first and only time in my life.

All Summer long we got updates from the ferry, they were building a new terminal, and everything was delay, delay, delay. Then they refunded our tickets without letting us know that they’d canceled. The thought of another multiple connection flight to get to Halifax from Portland was exhausting. We mapped the route and decided to rent a car for one way. This way, we could stop in New Brunswick on the way to visit Sonia’s grandmother. I told my mom of our updated plan, and she said no way, don’t rent a car, I’ll drive you. Can you get Soni’s parents to meet you in New Brunswick?

The drive from Kennebunk, Maine to Moncton, New Brunswick is an all-day trip. My mom has been dealing with lyme disease and it’s kind of an exhausting trip for her, so I suggested that we make it into a road trip, doing two shorter days of driving, and stopping in Lubec. I booked us rooms at the Eastland Motel, and we were set. This way, I get at least one of my Maine dreams on this trip!

September is a funny time in Maine. Fall is beginning, but there are a few wisps of Summer left. The first day I was in Maine, I got a warm day, warm enough for a beach day. The rest of the nights were cool, and the trees were beginning to change colors. October is prime leaf season in Maine, but in September there are tiny pops of red along the roads and here and there in the forest. The drive to Lubec was beautiful. We got there in the early afternoon and caught some beautiful light at West Quoddy Head Lighthouse. From the lighthouse and the beach, you can see Grand Manan Island in Canada. On the beach, our phones all switched over to Canadian service, unclear of where the US/Canada border is. Grand Manan Island looked like one long cliff, a giant island with nothing on it. Sonia told us that her mom lived there for a while when she was younger. In the parking lot, we found a map of the islands, and it appeared that the other side of the island was more accessible by boat, and that was where the majority of the inhabitants lived. After visiting the lighthouse, we went out to dinner in downtown Lubec, at the Lubec Brewing Company, a cute farm-to-table restaurant on Water St. (the main street in town).

I’ll always love Summer in Maine, when you can stay in the water for hours. But growing up in a tourist town in Maine, there’s something so magical about the off season, when most of the tourists go home and the beaches empty out. Even when I am the tourist, I love the quieter time of year. I don’t mind the weather, it’s just lovely to be there.