Allowing Myself

…to feel, to love, to be.

Tag: new hampshire

Technicolor Climbing, New Hampshire-style

During my June work trip, I extended my stay to include a full day of rock climbing with my awesome coworker Arielle (read about the first time she took me outdoor climbing). She and her boyfriend, Eric, took me out to Pawtuckaway in New Hampshire where we took a leisurely hike in, climbed a few routes, and enjoyed the most gorgeous of New England summer day you could ever imagine.

Having lived in LA almost 8 years, I am blown away by the intense greenery of the east coast during summer. There is clearly no shortage of water there. Walking through the park, and coming up to the water in the first photo, it all looked like Technicolor. I couldn’t stop commenting on how green it all was.

Our climbs were good. Eric showed me how he sets a top rope anchor (something I have yet to learn). He is quite meticulous and really patient, so it was great to have him talk through his process. Also fun to watch him and Arielle climb – always enlightening to see how people approach a route.

We found this baby bird nest in the chimney climb. So tiny. We ate supermarket sandwiches and went through a bag of pretzels. We talked about work and climbing and life. It was just a delight to be outside in summery weather.

After we climbed for the day, they took me to a little coastal town (my fav!) called Portsmouth, NH where we ate at the Portsmouth Brewery. And then they took me to the ocean, because they rock.

Having climbed outdoors 3x now (one trip was Joshua Tree, which I have yet to blog) I am loving both the outdoor camping / camaraderie all-day feel and the intense competitiveness of the gym. Still feels so crazy I can add “rock climbing” to my list of hobbies.






10 of 52: Year of Ocean








On Sunday, after a full day of rock climbing, my friends took me to the New Hampshire coast so I could see the ocean. It was exactly the way to end this perfect summer day.

The sun had just set, so the whole beach was cast in a dark gray glow – the kind that makes me think of slate, and castles, and deep waters. We walked out onto the rocks, but cut back up the beach when we realized how much the ground was really just a bed of seaweed. The tide was as far out as can be. It smelled like salt water and seashells and wet sand. We stepped with careful feet, so we didn’t crush any of the thousands of snails nestled in the shallow water. I picked up their empty shells and slipped them into my pocket. The little tunnel of a home void of an animal anymore, just specks of sand and sea water filling it now.

It was cool to hear one friend talk about how he visited this beach as a kid – it’s the main beach for grade school field trips. I love how coastal town living is ingrained in me and my friends. That rocky beaches are the norm. That we’re used to the jagged coastline of the east, large sediments left behind by glaciers, instead of the pure, sandy beaches of the west.

I asked if they ever visit in the winter. They said no. I felt it would be such a perfect beach for those shorter, darker days, with snow covering the earth. Where the wind whips off the ocean like a cutting blade.

Walking the gravel brought my heart right back to New England – the cold winters, the lush summers, and the ocean. Always, the ocean.