When planning our trip to visit family in Massachusetts, Dad and his belle (Patience) were kind enough to invite us to Martha's Vineyard for a few days.
 
Virginia and I had never been, so the whole experience of getting to the island on the Woods Hole ferry & crossing Vineyard Sound was brand new. And fun.

Over the next few days we walked the streets and alleys of Oak Bluffs; and drove "up island" to explore the rest.
 
In some ways, I saw Martha's Vineyard as a hundred gallons of good old New England with typical ingredients: woods, farms, beach, ponds, ice cream shops, fishing boats, calm harbors and windy bluffs. Yet it's all boiled down and reduced to a rich and sweet hundred square miles. There's a specialness that comes as a result, but I'm not sure I could explain it more than that.
 
The towns are very charming, tight, clean - and as we were told (and could easily imagine) get overcrowded during the summer. But for our May visit, everything in town was wide open. A treat that was not lost on us main-landers.

  
We discovered the richest beauty (and my favorite spots) were found along the remote beaches we visited. South of Gay Head, a stretch of Squibnocket and most definitely Chappaquiddick.These spaces were vast and wild and devoid of people as far as we could tell. True, it wouldn't be quite that way in August but it was a treat to scramble out on a fragile sandy tip, lean in to the salty wind arriving from deep within the Atlantic nearly unbroken.
 
I'm sure many will claim that no better beach can be found outside of Cape Cod. But being an island, the Vineyard beaches up the ante for coolness.
 
Many thanks to our host Pat sharing her home with us. And for Dad driving us around to such beautiful spots.  Our visit won't be easily forgotten.

Growing up in Massachusetts, you can't escape Henry David Thoreau. Every high school English curriculum in New England hits Thoreau to some degree. He was famous for living 2 years (roughly) in a basic cabin on the edge of Walden Pond during the mid 1800's which became the inspiration for his book "Walden".  He was also a member of a sort of "rat pack" of his time which included Ralph Waldo Emerson and Nathaniel Hawthorne.

As for the pond, it's a very typical medium size of which there are thousands in New England.  Yet during my youth, I never made the effort to actually make a visit even though it was nearby. So during our visit to Massachusetts, I decided a stop at Walden could tie up an old loose end while demystifying the stomping ground of Henry David Thoreau.

Walden is located in Concord MA, just a few minutes drive from my parents place in Littleton.  Virginia and I walked the circumference of the pond taking a detour up to the spot where Thoreau had his small cabin. He chose a really nice open space; elevated to give a view of the forest and the water beyond.

Walden's quest to observe nature more closely rings truer for me today than ever. These days, I tend to seek out beauty in nature as my default way to de-stress, relax and stay happy in a heavily digital world. Rereading a bit of Thoreau some 30 year later brings on new appreciation of his observations that just didn't click previously.

That the years add insight which isn't present during your youth shouldn't be too surprising I guess.

A passage from the book “Walden”:

“The phenomena of the year take place every day in a pond on a small sale. Every morning, generally speaking, the shallow water is being warmed more rapidly than the deep, though it may not be made so warm after all, and every evening it is being cooled more rapidly until the morning.  The day is an epitome of the year. The night is the winter, the morning and evening are the spring and fall, and the noon is the summer.”

And while I'm on the subject of history, the Concord area is chock full of serious American history. On the way back from Walden we stopped at the Old North Bridge which spans the Concord river.  (Not to be confused with the Old North Church in Boston which  - although is more famous - doesn't span much of anything.)

The bridge and surrounding area is now part of Minuteman National Historic Park.  The bridge was the site of the first battle between the British and Minutemen that started the American Revolutionary war.  Not to surprising, it was my first visit.

As winters go, the snowfall in the Sierras this year has not been great. Reports from many sources indicate that it’ll be another moderate to low snow pack for the 2012-2013 season.

Enter the magic of Mammoth Mountain and its uncanny ability to collect snowfall not matter what.  For skiers, there are rarely poor conditions for this perfectly placed peak. The 11,000 ft. western facing summit sits at the end of a long open gap in the range that funnels the winter storms squarely on the mountain, village and surrounding areas.

Needless to say, while driving up to our condo rental the snow was not falling. Until we took the off ramp for the village – then right on cue – suddenly it’s snowing at Mammoth.

Anyway, we really needed this get-away and skiing up there really pays off if you’re looking to unwind.

Below is a little slide show and short video clip:

On Friday and Saturday night, we walked down to unit 126 to partake in some serious après-skiing fun. Our friends Alan, Brian & family, Greg & family and others hosted libation, conversation and a little guitar jamming as well. Good times with the Ski Amigos!