Hiking The Whites With Tom & Atticus

(Editor’s Note: I would like to welcome Tom Ryan and Atticus, his faithful companion to the Northcountry News. Over the harsh winter of 2007/08, we followed them on their journey of trying to hike all New Hampshire's 48 4,000+ foot peaks twice during the official winter months. Although with the harsh winter we had, and Cannon Mountain reporting over 250" of snow, they were able to bag 66 of them! Their reason for doing such a thing was simple, to gather donations for Angell Animal Medical Center, the wonderful non-profit that helps thousands of animals each year. With Tom's hiking and outdoors experiece, we have asked him to write an ongoing column for the Northcountry News on hiking in the White Mountains. It will include tips, safety, trails and personal experiences among a variety of other items related to the White Mountains. We are thankful Tom & Atticus have agreed to share their knowledge and experience with us. We are truly greatful.)

You may also visit Tom & Atticus and see photos of their many treks at their blogspot.

Also, find out how you can donate to their cause.

www.tomandatticus.blogspot.com

Seen In The Northcountry News

August 22, 2008

One of us is losing weight. Unfortunately, it's not the one who needs it most. Atticus is on a high protein/low carb diet. He's now eating "GO! Natural". His nutritionist suggested it. I'm also on a high protein/low carb diet. (That is if you ignore the ice cream and pasta. No wonder only one of us is losing weight.)

Having no interest in dodging raindrops or lightening bolts we haven't been on the trails as much as of late. We did, however, squeeze in a hike up Mt. Wonalancet in the lower, eastern part of the Sandwich Range. It sits in front of two 4,000-footers: Whiteface and Passaconaway. In relation to them it looks harmless enough. Heck, it looks more like a hill than a mountain. Some hill. No, make that some mountain. The steep climb left me breathless.

The lower portion of the trail leaves the scenic Ferncroft Road parking area and meanders easily along a soft earthen path. Just before a stream the flat trail takes a sharp left and twists up some gentle switchbacks. Perhaps it was the way the dense forest held the humidity from all that rain or maybe I'm just too out of shape because of too much writing and not enough hiking but after we made our way through the switchbacks the climb seemed nearly as tough as anything we've encountered on our way to the top of a 4,000-footer. There were precipitous scrambles over rock and root – both being slippery due to all the rain – that led to even steeper inclines.

We stopped more often than I can remember ever stopping on a short hike. The svelte one (I'll give you a hint – it's not me) climbed easily, looking more like a chimpanzee than a miniature schnauzer. He hopped from rock to rock; bound over the tangle of roots looking like petrified rope; and balanced cavalierly on the narrowest and slickest rock crossings. In short, he made it look easy while I huffed and puffed and finally sat red-faced…more than once. How humbling it is to hike with a dog one tenth my size and see him above me looking so restful. His tongue wasn't even hanging out. I wish I could say the same.

I always forget; a climb is a climb. It doesn't matter whether it is scaling Mt. Washington or ten flights of stairs. It is not supposed to be easy. And yet I have a tendency to underestimate the shorter peaks and think they'll be easy because they are shorter. I forget my rule – 1,000 feet of elevation gain per mile constitutes a tough enough hike.

In the case of Mt. Wonalancet, it only stands 2,780 feet high but the elevation gain is 1,650 feet in 1.8 miles. The first portion of the hike is flat and then ascends gently. The upper half makes up for the temperate parts. It's tough going.

The joy of reaching the top means enduring the exertion it takes to get there. Effort expended plays a part in the end result. If it weren't for the difficulty and having all thoughts other than where my next step is going to go or where my next breath is going to come from stripped away, I wouldn't appreciate the view from the top as much.

Heart, lungs, legs, arms: I take inventory of them all and little else.

In my deep and labored breathing I remind myself that Wonalancet literally translates to "pleasant breathing". This doesn't compute, not at this time.

The arrival at the top signals the end of my discomfort. Thoughts of continuing onward to some grander peak soon retreat and I follow suit. Just below the summit sits an open ledge with views to the south. Sitting on the ledges feeding peanut butter crackers to Atticus, with sweat running down by face and back, I find my breath and it slows.

Slowly it comes…pleasant breathing. Wonalancet.

With no where else to go we sit and ponder the sooty clouds spilling onto the Ossipees like black ink. How lovely to sit and sit just watching a storm roll in, hearing and feeling the boom of the thunder and we are cooled by a breeze whispering in her soft voice a storm is coming. We both watch it fill the distant sky.

Eventually Atticus lies down. He is now watching ants parade along the rocks, a search party, I imagine, looking for the crumbs he's left behind.

I'm reminded of something a friend, a proper Bostonian, just shared with me. She and her husband own places in the city and up in the mountains. The first is their base camp for their professional lives. The second is used to feed their hiking addiction. Introduce a spider, ants, mouse in either home and this woman goes to war. Traps, sprays, exterminators. You name it.

Recently, while sitting on the east ledges of Mt. Hedgehog, she watched an ant struggle with a large piece of popcorn someone had left behind. The ant couldn't manage it and tipped over backwards. It tried again and again, each time teetering, then tottering, then tumbling over. This woman's husband watched in amazement when she reached down, picked up the piece of popcorn and broke it into smaller, manageable pieces. Her loving smile was evident when the ant picked up a smaller piece and made its way home.

That's what great about the mountains. They touch us in many ways: a majestic view from a stunning peak, an approaching storm, a parade of ants. Music may sooth the savage beast but nature soothes the civilized man (or woman) and makes him whole again.

Two years ago I was told by a friend I would grow to love the Sandwich Range. She was right. I particularly look forward to coming treks in October through those fertile woods and hills as the colorful quilt of autumn grows richer and spreads south across the landscape.

If you would like to follow along with other hikes or check out our continuing fundraising efforts for Angell Animal Medical Center feel free to visit our website: www.tomandatticus.blogspot.com. To offer feedback, to ask a question, or simply to say hello you can email us at Atticusmfinch@gmail.com.

Tom & Atticus To Receive MSPCA's Annual Hero Award

The Massachusetts Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals announced that the hiking duo of Tom Ryan and Atticus M. Finch are the recipients of the organization's annual Human Hero Award. The award will be given at the MSPCA's Hall of Fame Dinner on October 16, 2008 at the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library.

The award is given to an individual who has responsibly demonstrated bravery and compassion to save the life of or significantly promote the welfare of one or more animals. Mr. Ryan was chosen in recognition of his efforts to promote the MSPCA's mission and programs and to assist with creative fundraising effort.

Technically Mr. Ryan will be getting the Human Hero Award, but Mr. Finch (his six year old miniature schnauzer) will also be recognized. MSPCA understands that the two are a team. This past winter the hiking duo summited 66 peaks to raise money for MSPCA Angell Animal Medical Center, a non-profit animal hospital in Jamaica Plain, Massachusetts. They raised over $6,000 through their efforts.

Their fundraising effort came on the heels of the previous winter's efforts when Ryan and Finch raised an equal amount for the Jimmy Fund and Dana-Farber Cancer Institute by hiking 81 mountains in the 90 days of winter. However, soon after that winter ended, Atticus went blind. Two additional blood tests showed a non-related problem: hyperthyroidism. It was believed he had thyroid cancer. Doctors said neither problem had anything to do with hiking.

The little dog that captured the attention of thousands through his winter hiking in the White Mountains was in trouble. Thankfully he had friends – lots of them. In less than a month a group calling itself "The Friends of Atticus" raised over $9,000 for Atticus' medical bills. Cataract surgery cured his blindness and additional tests, these taken at Angell, surprised all by proving he didn't have hyperthyroidism and hence didn't have cancer. Follow-up tests have continuously given Atticus a clean bill of health.

Tom and Atticus, as they've become known in the hiking community, now live in the White Mountains. When told he'd won the award Mr. Ryan said, "I'm humbled that such a wonderful organization would single us out for our efforts."

He added, "As far as our efforts go, after all the help Atticus received from friends we've met and friends we've never met, I thought it was important to find a way to pay it forward so that another animal might benefit in the same way."

Tom Ryan is the former publisher and editor of the Newburyport based newspaper The Undertoad. He is currently a columnist for the Northcountry News and the Mountainside Guide and is working on a book about the adventures of he and Atticus.

Congratulations Tom & Atticus

From Your Friends At The Northcountry News