The Traveling Widower

Category: hiking

  • Shackleton Redux

    November 23rd, 2025

    After our visit to Adelie penguins colony, we did in fact find a location with shore-fast ice – that’s sea ice that is still firmly attached to land. The plan was to drive the resolution deep enough into the ice, so that it would be send everyone out to ski or walk around for a while. It sounds dumb, but it was a lot of fun, and how often do you get a chance to walk on water.  Sea ice is frozen sea water, not glacial ice like the big ice shelf’s you read about. (We learned a lot about different icebergs on this trip).

    This is sea ice, but obviously not stable.

    So, off we went in search of a suitable site to play – the crew had found a fjord which appeared to still have what we were looking for, on recent satellite images, and sure enough the ice was still there. It was fun hanging out on the bow overlook as the ship very slowly plowed through the ice until it was fairly deep, and sort of embedded. They dropped a stairway down, and sent a crew out to test the ice, and mark out an area that was safe to play and ski on.

    You can see the stairs lowered to the ice, and a couple of crew members off in the distance, marking the safe area. And a couple of lazy seals as well.

    Once all was safe and set to go, they let two groups go off for a cross-country ski excursion. I had wanted to do this – I used to do back-country skiing all the time in Colorado, and was pretty good a telemarking down mountain passes. But they would only let passengers with recent experience (last year or two) go, and it has been a good ten years for me). I did start to argue the point, but then I heard Jan’s voice in my head ….”you idiot, you have a bad knee that’s hurting…..be safe!!!”. So I went for option 2, which was to take a long stroll out on the ice.  Which turned out to be fun.

    They had marked out a one mile or so track, which circled around the bay and passed by the two seals which ignored everyone. It was funny looking back at the ship and seeing this long ine of orange coats – it looked like we had abandoned ship, which was surrounded by ice. It made me think of the famous Shackleton Endurance voyage saga, hence the title of this post.

    It was not too cold, but still had to bundle up with all our expedition gear including the Muck boots and the hated life vest. We were walking on water after all – there was always the danger of stepping on a weak spot or a seal air hole.

    And they did set up the photo-op of pulling the ship out of the ice. It is a rite of passage for cruising Antarctica

    Other than the seals, and a couple of wayward penguins, this was just a fun outing. It is always great to get off the ship and walk around, and it was even better when you can simply walk off the ship onto a flat, stable surface. No waves, rocks or icy climbs. And the views across the open expanse of ice to the surrounding icy mountains was incredible. It is just so hard to fully describe what this place is like. It’s breathtaking where ever you go.

    As for the wayward penguins, I noticed after I boarded back on the ship, and was watching below from the lounge, that three penguin had magically appeared. I guess they followed the channel created by the ship, and decided to check things out. It was fun watching them – they just scoot forward on their stomachs, keeping their wings out as stabilizers, and push forward with their feet. They look like little black and white snow mobiles, and scoot forward quickly. When they hit a crack in the ice, they stopped, stared at it for a while, then each one hopped forward. When all three were on the other side, off they went again, heading back to open water. I wish I had photographed it all – it was like watching the three stooges. 

  • When To Start Acting Your Age

    Well, I’m back home alone again, talking to myself (very interesting conversations of course), and one of the topics we (me & myself) discussed was whether I need to start “acting my age” in terms of the adventures I’ve been doing this past year. I am heading into my mid-70’s, I have a number of non-life threatening medical conditions and, worst of all, I live by myself. Jan kept me in check, but was always there when I needed someone to drive me home from a remote location after dislocating my ankle on a winter 14’teener climb, or take me to the E/R when I cut my lip off from a bicycle accident (it was sewn back on without shaving my moustache). I worry about what I’ll do now if I get seriously injured or ill. 

    I’ve always pushed my own physical limitations in the outdoors and sports, a major issue since I’m a klutz. Always have been. My mother eventually got used to taking me to the E/R with a broken or bleeding something. I’m sometimes surprised that I’ve survived this long, given that:

    • I was serious rock climber (5.9 lead),  until I wasn’t (hint: gravity always wins in the end).
    • I also took up ice climbing – a really dangerous sport. Lots of really sharp tools, climbing on a brittle surface. Falling can be very painful
    • I climbed a number of peaks in Colorado in the winter. By myself.
    • I frequently went on peak hikes by myself. What could possibly go wrong? 

    As I’ve aged, I have not completely outgrown these self-destructive tendencies. If there is a more difficult way of doing things, I’m all in. Who needs to eat breakfast before going on the 16 mile round trip jaunt up Half-Dome in Yosemite? I have at least managed to stay in shape through the years, and have taken up normal sports and activities – tennis, pickleball, swimming, and light hiking. Up until Jan was diagnosed. 

    During those 11 months of misery for Jan, I was no longer able to  leave her alone after the second month. No more workouts or tennis.  Our eating habits changed, and our collective alcohol consumption increased. By a lot. Add to that the incredible stress I was under, and I was pretty much a physical and mental wreck when she passed, and for many months afterwards.

    To make matters much worse, I ignored issues with my left knee during this time, and paid dearly for that. I have been sidelined from all racket sports for over a year, which eliminated significant sources of social activities. It’s a good thing I like talking to myself. 

    So here I am, aging rapidly, struggling to stay healthy (and sane), and going off on all this strange adventures. Remarkably, I have done well so far when you consider some of the activities associated with these trips. 

    Ocean Kayaking – every NatGeo trip I’ve been on has the opportunity for open water kayaking. Nothing too serious, but I’ve managed to stay dry so far. Can’t wait for Antarctica.

    Snorkeling – two of the trips have had snorkeling, and in most cases, in cold, rough water. With sea lions and penguins. No sharks. 

    Hiking in the SW – most of the hiking on the NatGeo trips has been pretty mild, other than trying to avoid falling on sharp lava rock in the Galápagos Islands. My hiking trip to the Utah parks was much more strenuous, and I was able to keep up with the group, with one hike up and down at about 8K’. 

    Hiking in Colorado – my first trip included moderate hikes in a number of state parks, and I managed to haul myself up one or two trails at 10k’ in Rocky Mountain National Park. On the most recent trip, I managed to get up all the steep stairs and hike a few miles at over 7500’ at the Seven Falls and meandered through a cavern tour, also at high altitude. And then there was my epic hike/climb of the Manitou Incline. I was proud of myself for getting to the top. Maybe that was one of the adventures I should have passed on, but I’m glad I did it. 

    Hiking in California – Mostly going up and down endless stairs during my Cave-A-Week tour of caverns, but also wandering around in some state parks, and the Donner Pass railroad tunnels at 7K elevation. Moro Rock was not exactly a big deal (300’ elevation gain), but I was in much better shape at high altitude, and pretty much scooted right up to the top. For once, I was actually passing groups.

    So I may be old, but I seem to be holding my own on my adventures this past year. Injury free – that’s a good thing. I work out most every day now which helps a lot. And finally, after 73 years, I’ve developed some sense for self-preservation and avoid things that I know I’m not in shape for. Angels Landing in Zion National Park is one of those, and sadly, so is a return climb of Half Dome. I’ve learned how to deal with my balance issues which gets me through moderate hikes – I have been using hiking sticks for years, especially on peak climbs, but now, they are a necessity. I used just one pole on the Incline climb, sort of as a third leg to keep from leaning backwards.

    None of my planned trips the next two years have overly strenuous activities. The National Geographic trips are all reasonable, and they always offer alternative activities each day. Madagascar has a lot of moderate hikes – no mountains, just 4 or 5 miles along forest trails. I think I can handle that. And all I really need to do on the Kodiak Island trip is not be the slowest person in the group.

    I have been careful in selecting future trips – most of the catalogs rate the level of activities they offer which helps a lot. It pains me a bit, but I no longer consider any of the pure hiking trips that Road Scholars offers. My focus is no longer on reaching the end point of a hike, but enjoying (and photographing) what you see along the trail. There was also an outfit that does a luxury climb up Mount Kilimanjaro. Maybe 15 years ago. Not now. Same for a trek in the Himalayas to Everest Base Camp, something I’ve always dreamed of. 

    So I guess I am acting my age. It’s sort of like learning not to run holding sharp objects – I learned the hard way. I’ll just keep modifying my goals and expectations as I age. Fewer sharp objects = fewer trips to the E/R.

    I need to have another talk with myself now about scheduling a few more trips for 2027. Hopefully, we will be in agreement. I hate arguing with myself. I can be such a pain in the ….

     Peace