Plan a Trip with Camping New York

Two years ago, after logging hundreds of trail hours in the parks and nature reserves scattered across Long Island, Eastern New Jersey, Southern Connecticut, and the Hudson Valley, my first book appeared in print. As any author will tell you, writing is a book is a lot of work, and Best Hikes Near New York City involved plenty of it. From trip planning and hiking (and in some cases re-hiking) each route, to mapping, photographing, and researching local history, I devoted a tremendous amount of time to that guidebook. Flipping through its pages now, I see little things I wish I'd changed and wonder if I could've added another hike or two. Overall I'm happy with it though, which is probably why, when my editor asked if I wanted to author a title in Globe Pequot's Where to Camp series, I said yes.

And so, once again, I consulted my New York State road map, charged my camera batteries, and rummaged around for the trusty Garmin GPS in the back of my closet. Then, armed with an Empire Passport and a new sleeping bag, I set out to write Camping New York, my second book for FalconGuides. It took me longer than expected, but it's out now in paperback and will soon be available as a Kindle eBook, too. In roughly 150 pages I concisely cover 130 campsites from easternmost Long Island to the top of Adirondack Park and west to Lake Erie. Hopefully the tour region maps, photos, and quick reference tables will make it easy to decide where you want to go, whether it's your first camping trip, or your fifty-first. Finally, for those who might be curious, the site pictured on the cover is at Mongaup Pond in the Catskills, the one place last summer where I actually spotted a black bear near the campground.

How to Get Lost

Wayfinding. A strange and arcane skill that seems antithetical to the very essence of exploration and adventure. With increasingly sophisticated GPS units, steady improvements to map databases online, and a growing number of apps designed for hikers, it would appear that the halcyon days of blindly wandering into the wilderness are numbered. Sure, older generations will continue to remember the profound pleasures of getting truly, completely lost, but in a matter of years, their grandchildren likely won't understand. Technology will render the experience obsolete. 

Fortunately for the nostalgic hiker who longs to feel that pit in the stomach that forms upon realizing you're definitely off course and probably won't be able to successfully reorient yourself, there are a few easy tricks for losing the way. Better yet, there's a good chance you've already done one of more of the following, so remembering all five should be relatively easy to accomplish. Even if you don't though, it's still possible to confuse yourself enough to increase the odds of stumbling through miles of underbrush, hoping to somehow get your bearings again.

1. Don't Bring a Map. In fact, don’t even look at one before you leave home. Assume your smartphone will suffice and will hold its charge long enough to get you into the woods and back out again. Think twice before packing a bulky guidebook or wasting money on an expensive plastic compass. 
2. Ignore Trail Blazes. Count on well worn paths to lead you straight to your destination and bank on the smaller side trails being shortcuts when you get tired. Tell yourself you’ll definitely remember all of the turns and intersections when as you retrace your route in the opposite direction at the end of the day. Trust that markers will be easy to spot and a breeze to follow on your first try.
3. Go Easy on the Water. Let’s face it, you probably won’t get that thirsty on a short day hike. Plus, water bottles and hydration packs weigh a ton and will just slow you down. Few, if any poor decisions ever result from heat exhaustion or dehydration.
4. Keep Moving Forward. If you’re uncertain about that last turn or bend in the trail, don’t turn around, push on. You’ll definitely bump into other hikers who will be able to redirect you. The worst thing you can do is stay put. Besides, you’ll probably cross a few big roads on any hike lasting more than a few hours. Bailing out is for quitters—you’ve got peaks to bag and you need the photos to prove it.
5. Leave No Trace. Don’t worry about telling anyone where you’re going, you’ll be back before they even notice you’re gone. Leaving a note for a loved one or a roommate seems silly when you’re planning to be back for dinner anyway. And don't forget: rangers ruthlessly mock hikers who check in at a park office or visitor center.

The Hiker's Pantry: Beer Brittle

Last week I discovered my new favorite trail snack. It's probably not the healthiest thing you can toss in your backpack, but considering it was an impulse purchase I picked up after a tour of Cape Cod Beer's Hyannis brewery, I don't think I chose too poorly. Bonus: this particular confection comes in both sweet and spicy varieties. Sierra Nevada Brewing Company, for example, adds jalapeño to their version. 

The beer brittle I bought was made by Cabot's Candy of Provincetown, Massachusetts, and included a pinch of cayenne pepper along with peanuts, sugar, corn syrup, butter, Cape Cod beer, milk, baking soda, salt, vanilla, and cinnamon. In terms of nutrition, my eight ounce package was 210 calories including 11 grams of fat (2 g saturated), 2 grams of fiber, 17 grams of sugar, and 4 grams of protein per serving. If you're the sort of person who knows how to use a kitchen, you can also make your own—the Homebrew Chef has a simple recipe. Just remember, if you do decide to carry beer brittle on your next day hike, the Leave No Trace principles remind us to pack the empty bag back out with our other trash. Oh, and no matter how excited you might be to try this or any other trail treat, don't forget to bring a map.

Hiking Muka Head in Penang

For many travelers—including me—Penang is a place to go to eat. When I visited last spring, the tempting edibles on nearly every corner made it hard to resist spending my time snacking from dawn til dusk. Long considered a culinary paradise by foodies, this small Malaysian island in the Malacca Strait has seen its popularity spike since UNESCO added the historic city of George Town to their World Heritage List in 2008. And yet a short distance from the city and its heavenly food, Penang's green lung and Malaysia's smallest national park beckons to those in search of a bit of calm and quiet.

Occupying the northwestern corner of the island, the adjacent Teluk Bahang Forest Preserve and Penang National Park (Taman Negara Pulau Pinang) offer a number of hiking trails that lead to secluded beaches, mangrove forests, an unusual meromictic lake, and an impressive nineteenth century lighthouse. Along the way, park guests might also be lucky enough to spot Rhesus monkeys, a variety of exotic bird species, and one of the world's largest squirrels. I caught a glimpse of the latter from afar, and it was remarkable. Think cat-sized.

To reach the main entrance, take bus route 101 or 102 on Rapid Penang and exit at the Teluk Bahang roundabout. Entrance to the park is free and a small color brochure with map (in English and Bahasa Malaysia) is available at the interpretation center or from the Wildlife Department's website. You'll cross a small suspension bridge just beyond the gate, and then two trails guide hikers either northwest to the Muka Head light, or southwest across the peninsula to a pair of more remote beaches, one of which is a nesting-ground for green sea turtles. According to the map, this second route is longer and more difficult.

Hiking the Big Apple

Almost exactly a year ago today, I was approached by a publisher to author a book. As a former nonfiction editor, I spent close to a decade helping dozens of writers develop their titles, and occasionally I wondered about my own aptitude for writing something more than a few thousand words in length. Of course, none of the projects I envisioned ended up becoming my first book. Instead, my career as an author will begin on April 1st (no, I'm not kidding) with Best Hikes Near New York City. 

In the end, it took the better part of six months to research, map, photograph, and transcribe the notes I scribbled on the trail. My blog certainly suffered for a while, and I saw less of my friends. It turns out a ten-mile walk in the woods at the height of summer isn't everyone's idea of a good time. Looking back though, I'm still glad I took the job and I hope I've produced a guide that's useful and unique. If you're going to be in the New York area later this year, watch this space for news about guided trips* to a few of my favorite parks. 

*Please note that any and all hikes I lead will absolutely end at a bar serving pints of local craft beer.

Of Blogs and Books

If you happen to read this blog with any regularity, you may have noticed that my postings have tapered off of late. Well, I decided to explain myself this afternoon, lest I face accusations of laziness and/or abandonment. The actual reason I haven't kept up with my blogging is simple—I'm writing a book. More than that, I've even got a publisher for it.

My hiking guide won't be released until next year, but in the meantime I have a lot of research, writing, and mapping to do. So although I will continue to add links to my stories and interviews as they appear online, I won't have time to update this site as often as I have in the past. While you're waiting for me to get around to blogging again, why not spend some time outdoors yourself? Because whether you live near Seattle, WA or Washington, DC, there are dozens of trails a short car, bus, or train ride away. Go ahead, take a hike.

Beer Town: Brooklyn

I love New York. Really, I do. The thing is, over the years I've become much more of an outer borough kind of guy. Sure, I still have my favorite bars and restaurants in Manhattan, but these days I just don't spend much time there anymore. Thanks to a growing number of foodie entrepreneurs in Kings County though, I hardly even miss it.

Let's take beer, for example: Manhattan only has one true brewery (all of the Heartland beers are actually made across the East River in Fort Greene) while Brooklyn's got four. And that includes a business billing itself as the world's smallest non-commercial brewery. I could go on, but it's late, and you'd rather be watching something funny anyway.

So if you're curious about what's happening in Brooklyn, pick up a copy of the May/June 2010 issue of DRAFT magazine for my tips on the best places to eat, sleep, and drink in this newly-minted Beer Town. Or, if you're low on cash and like a good map, read the online version here.

Remaining Focused

It's Christmas Eve and evidence of "The Blizzard of '09" still blankets suburban Maryland as I post some disappointing news. Back in September, I applied for a comic book self-publishing grant in the hopes of offsetting some of the expense of producing and distributing Captain Cartography. Unfortunately, I learned late last week that my proposal was not selected by the review committee and I won't be receiving any financial support from the Xeric Foundation.

While this is a setback, it doesn't spell the end for our spatially-gifted hero. In the time that has elapsed since I submitted my proposal, I've given more thought to the idea and continue to seek out and read comics that inspire me to keep writing. Plus, the advice and encouragement I've begun to receive from educators will help me relate my storyline to teaching standards as I move forward with the project in 2010. It may take me longer to develop than it would have with some funding, but I'm not giving up. Not yet. After all, I'm in this for the maps, not the money.

Historical Maps and What They Teach Us

Because I don't enjoy shopping, I rarely buy souvenirs on my trips abroad. Yet two years ago, while browsing the stacks of a used bookstore in St. Andrews, Scotland, I happened across a small volume with a faded red cover that I couldn't bear to leave behind. Plus, £4.50 hardly seemed extravagant given that I'd paid £3.80 for a pint of beer and a mug of black coffee the night before.

Published in 1928 by Methuen & Co. Ltd. of London, The Fjords and Folk of Norway is a unique combination of travel guide, social history, and encyclopedia. It was peppered with 43 images photographed and captioned by the author Samuel J. Beckett, and to my delight, included a two-color, fold-out map of a country the preface confidently described as "a land in every way ideal for holiday travel." Given the theme for this year's Geography Awareness Week, I thought it deserved a mention here.

As readers of this blog already know, I can get a bit nerdy when it comes to maps. Even so, I'd argue that The Edinburgh Geographical Institute's precise cartography is interesting for a couple of different reasons. First of all, the scale shows distances in British Statue Miles, Kilometres, and Norwegian Miles—a unit of measure I wasn't familiar with. Secondly, the large scale inset of the great fjord region offers an informative lesson in how physical geography and population density determine transportation infrastructure. By studying the railway, road, and steamboat routes, it's possible to accurately infer that the landscape is rugged and sparsely peopled. In fact, about two-thirds of Norway is mountainous and in 1925, the population was only 2,772,414. Today this Scandinavian nation has about 4.6 million citizens, many of whom still rely on boats as a swift means of North-South travel.

Finally, I found it somewhat curious that the mapmakers also included an inset of historic Bergen, gateway to the fjord region. Lacking enough detail to be useful for visitors, it's informative nonetheless, with elevations for a few of the surrounding mountains and an attempt to indicate the growth of the city beyond its commercial center.

In Praise of Global Knowledge

Have you hugged a map lately? If not, consider doing something to show your appreciation for maps and atlases between the 15th and the 21st of November. Why, you ask? Because the third week of the month is Geography Awareness Week, an annual event observed by a growing number of students, teachers, parents, and professionals. GAW was created in 1987 to inspire kids to learn more about the distribution of and spatial relationships between people, places, and environments on Earth, but anyone can take part in this celebration of geography—it's not exclusionary.

If this all comes as news to you and you haven't the slightest clue about where to begin, stop wringing your hands and head on over to National Geographic's My Wonderful World Blog. They've already posted a "quasi-definitive list" of fun ideas for gamers, cooks, armchair travelers, and yes, bloggers too. Problem solved.

I'll undoubtedly be writing about maps myself, but I'm also planning to introduce Captain Cartography (pictured) to a few educators here in Brooklyn. With some luck, my comic book will be available in time for Geography Awareness Week 2010.

Art by Dezi Sienty

Adventures in Mapping

A full month after blithely declaring that I'd soon have more news about my educational comic book, I actually have something to post. Working with an imaginative artist, experienced cartographers, and now a talented letterer, I am (I think) about a week away from wrapping up the first stage of this project. Previews are coming soon. I promise.

We've settled on a logo, four of the first five pages are inked and colored, the map I commissioned looks great, and after a bit of rewriting and lots of editing, I'm finally happy with my script. Watching Captain Cartography evolve from an idea into a full-fledged story has brought me a lot of joy already, and I consider myself lucky to have found such willing and enthusiastic collaborators. Unfortunately, the next step in the process is drafting a budget.

Introducing Captain Cartography

There was a time when I made my fondness for geography known on a regular basis. And although I don't deal with atlases every day anymore, I still have a soft spot for maps and cartography. So much so, I realized recently, that I needed to channel this interest into a summer project. Naturally, I decided to try writing a comic book.

Being a novice, I started off by reading lots and lots of comics. Of the books I discovered, Action Philosophers, a mini-series by Fred Van Lente and Ryan Dunlavey "that proves that philosophy is not just the province of boring tweed-enveloped college professors," just may be the best. My hope is to do something similar with geography.

So, with a tall stack of borrowed graphic novels, a copy of The DC Comics Guide to Writing Comics, a very rough plot outline, and a concept for a character with uncanny map-reading skills, I set out to write an adventure story that would both entertain and educate. Freelancing gigs, softball games, and a plethora of August birthdays slowed me down somewhat, but there's been some progress, and I plan to flesh out a script once I get thumbnail sketches from the artist who's been working with me. With luck I'll have more news on this front before Labor Day.
Illustration of Captain Cartography © Steve Wands 2007

Munro Bagging

Rainy days in June remind me of Scotland. Two years ago I had just returned from ten days in Caledonia and as I gaze out my window at the rain falling over Brooklyn right now, I'm reminded of the gray afternoon I spent struggling up Ben Nevis, Britain's highest peak. Nevis also happens to be the tallest of the "Munros" (mountains with elevations topping 3,000 feet), and it's a climb made all the more challenging by the unpredictable nature of the weather at the summit.

To quote one of the safety notes printed on the Harvey map I bought at the tourist office in Fort William: "Always be prepared to turn back in the face of a sudden deterioration of weather." In hindsight I'm happy to have bagged this, the most famous of the Munros, but I can't say I enjoyed the hike all that much. The visibility went from bad to worse and what started as a light drizzle became a steady shower that left me soaked from head to toe. Which might have been tolerable had I not been greeted at the top by wind and snow. Mind you, I did pass a older gentleman in shorts and a running singlet on my way back down, but I'm pretty sure he was insane. In any case, my Scottish folly led to the single best night of sleep I've had in my life.

Of course some people are of the opinion that the real reason to visit Scotland isn't the hill walking, the haggis, the golf, or even the abundance of whisky distilleries. As I argued in an article for Transitions Abroad, it's the beer.