Returned from the grim and mighty mountains.

Ok. I just need to do this first, 'cause I've been having this in my head for the past four days, and I couldn't say any of it 'cause no one would get it.

"Hey guys, we're in the nebular ravens winter!"
"It's the grim and mighty mountains!" *points*
"MIGHTY RAVENDARK!!!"

Ah. Better. Now that I've gotten that out of my system, here is what transpired:

Day One:
Got up at asscrack o' dawn, hauled my ass and my stuff to Prospect, had breakfast with the group, left MoHo at 8:15. The drive up got a little hairy in places, as 91 wasn't plowed, but had copious amounts of salt to make up for it (right). Many adventures in cleaning the windshield with de-icer. When we got to the guide place, it was too late in the day to go to the camp, so we snowshoed around in the woods, then went back to the farmhouse (which had fancy things like central heating and indoor plumbing) for dinner and sleeping. Much fun had by all (and Immortal jokes silently made by me).

Day Two:
Got up at asscrack o' dawn, had breakfast, got our stuff together, trekked into the woods. Half of us dogsledded across the frozen lake to the campsite, the other half cross country skied through the woods (I was a skier). It was insanely fun; for once I wasn't at the back of the line. I think because the conditions were such that balance and lower body strength were more important than raw endurance (otherwise the three crew-tons would have kicked my ass and then some). I know I fell fewer times than anyone else, despite only having been skiing twice before, both times downhill. Though I do have an impressive bruise on my knee from where I fell onto my actual ski. Brilliant. We saw all manner of tracks; fox, bobcat, fisher, snowshoe hare, partridge and moose. The day held beautiful all the way through; sunny and lots of fresh snow for all. Camp was great; it's a semi-permanent setup with two sleeping tents and a cook-tent with pine boughs on the floor and woodburning stoves. There was this little group of black-capped chickadees that hung around stealing bits of the dogs' food. They were so cute and fearless; I got them to take food from my hand at one point. Dinner was better food than the dining halls generally serve. We were all massively tired (skiing three miles, breaking a hole in the ice for water, firewood duty, dishes, etc.) so we went to sleep around 8 or 9, I'd estimate. I was in a tent with two FPs and one of our guides. Nancy and Heidi were really nice, although they never called me by my name. I'm not sure why she got it into her head to do it, but Heidi just said to me, "Hey, Metal, want to play Uno with us?" (During the first night, it had come out that yes, I am a metalhead, and it's a rather large part of my identity.) So I was Metal for the rest of the trip, at least to Heidi and Nancy. Uno was fun.

The second night was...interesting. I slept fitfully (reasonable, given that I'm such a light sleeper) and was plagued by the worst nightmare. It started out fairly tamely, with me on tour with Disturbed doing some sort of vocal work (you know, just dream weirdness). The last night of the tour, we were in Australia or some place like that, and I went back to my hotel room, and proceeded to have sex with Howard Stern. (It was perfectly nice in my dream, but when I woke up I was disturbed and grossed out. *shudder*) Then it changed, and I was running around this multi-layered mall. There were these critters like Reavers there, and I barely escaped along with this 15-year-old girl. We had found a way to the bottom where the exit was, and we were riding down in this enormous elevator, when the critters started coming in the elevator. So I hid in a nook with the girl in front of me, then took out a knife and slit her throat so they'd think I was one of them. I woke up from this severely frightened about the state of my brain.

Day Three:
Anyway. The third day the weather went all wonky; it was 48 degrees and rainy. We played with the dogs a bit, then went snow/slush/water shoeing and skiing. It was sweaty, wet fun. Wait. No. That sounded wrong. Heh heh heh. (I'm a little braindead right now, if you couldn't tell.)

The third night was more of Nancy, Heidi and Metal playing Uno, and Metal being woken up by her tentmates' snoring and loud breathing (told you I was a light sleeper).

Day Four:
More asscrack. Of dawn. Jesus, you people. Anyhoo, I was slated to dogsled out of there, since I'd skiied in. We cleaned up camp; chopped more wood, put in fresh pine boughs, got all the packs and such loaded, learned a bit about mushing, then went skidding across a lake o' glare ice. It was really exhilirating to ride along on the back of the sled. The scenery is amazing up there; I took some time in camp to go off by myself and kind of marvel at the fact that there was no one there. There was camp, and then...nothing. Just woods and animals. Anyway, we got back to where we'd left the vans, had lunch, loaded everything up, and returned to the farmhouse. I opted not to change most of my clothing, and simply rode home in the nasty underarmor I'd been wearing for the past four days. Upon returning to MoHo, I listened to some Sonata Arctica and Bloodbath, as I'd had "Respect The Wilderness" and "Buried By The Dead" stuck in my head for four days. Bloodbath was the worst...showshoeing that first day, my brain popped up with "...my flesh and my bones / ready to explode in a gush of red foam" and it wouldn't leave me alone until I listened to the damn song tonight.

Speaking of music...holy shit, I just went four days without listening to music. That's the longest I've gone in at least four years. Wow. It was a little weird. It made me feel divided in myself, much moreso than I've ever felt before. Sure, I'm a metalhead who likes and needs the woods, but...I mean, I could see how I might be one of those people who lives in a tent in the Maine woods all the time. Except it's too far away from some of the things I love most. I've had a taste of what it's like to be an hour down the Pike from Worchester, and I can't go back. I am finally incompatible with myself. Surreal. Well, fortunately for my sanity, I don't think I'd move to Maine. If I'd been raised a bit differently, if my parents had been more outdoors-oriented and taken me camping and such, I might have turned out as that sort of person. As it is, I like taking trips to the deep woods and living in places like South Hadley. So I am still complete. Odd to be able to see an alternate life stretch out before you like that.

Anyway. I am extremely tired now. Pictures will be forthcoming.