LIFE INTERRUPTED MY PLANS AGAIN THIS WEEK

And other things we all have in common

Janice Anne Wheeler Jul 26

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For this edition, I was going to share with you a thought-provoking, awe-inspiring poet, Navy Veteran and lover of all things boat, nature, & humanity but you’re not getting that. I’m sorry. You will. Promise. It’s a work in progress that I could not concentrate on this week.

I received a(nother?) single phone call, and made a(nother?) decision that was both easy and complicated, one which changed everything from that moment forward. Sometimes it happens like that, doesn’t it? The required modification of logistics got me where I needed to be, and that place is one I told you about just last week. As we’ve often discussed here, SPARRING or not, I believe that all things fall into place. This time, definitely. You know what I mean. We all have this in common, an unrelenting, unforeseen set of adjustments to our best laid plans. Not a week goes by, really, that something doesn’t surprise you, keep you on your toes, and remind you to appreciate what you have. Fortunately I have the flexibility to pack up this computer and take my work along for the ride.

On Tuesday I left the Eastern Shore of the Chesapeake Bay at 4am EST and took in the New York City skyline at 8:15. It’s never as I remember it; 25 years later I still expect to see the Twin Towers, the World Trade Center, which fell on 9-11-2001. Interstate 87 north of NYC might be the least-traveled in this nation and I followed it north through the Adirondack Park for what is probably the 400^th time, give or take a few. My entire life, with random frequency, has pulled me through this region of North America. By 1pm I parked at the depressingly-busy hospital, ready for the barrage of emotions that would accompany this particular visit to ‘Comfort Care’ (read: hospice). At age 93, my friend recognized me. There’s a lot of gratification in that, and a lot of sadness in the friends and family who sit, bedside, awaiting what will eventually happen to all of us. The support of the still-very-much-alive is why I’m here.

Last week I introduced (or reintroduced) you to the 6,000,000 acre Adirondack Park in New York State, US. If you have set foot within these boundaries, (the “Blue Line”) or live within them, you have experienced a revolutionary concept in cooperation between public and private lands. It’s not always easy. I lived and played within the Park, more or less, for my first twenty years; I relish going back.

Undoubtedly my favorite landmark is the 1912 Firetower Lookout on an enticing mound of granite called, equally compellingly, Poke-O-Moonshine Mountain. When I lived in this area during my father’s illness 2016-2019 I climbed the soul-soothing peak as often as I could. My first days here this time were spent with the friend in hospice, but the third day I got up at the same 4am crack of dawn and climbed that mountain, as I have every time I’ve visited since I went to liveaboard STEADFAST. Each time it is more stunning than I remembered. Not that many things are better than you recalled them to be, and I treasure that.

The elevation gain is 1280 feet in 1.8 miles, total height 2180 or 664M. These mountains are the oldest in North America and reportedly even the planet, worn down over the last two billion years or so, yet these stubborn beauties (including Whiteface Mountain/Lake Placid, New York, which hosted the 1932 and 1980 Winter Olympics) still persist in their stubborn uplift (no wonder I feel the vibe) of 1 to 3 mm per year. Frankly, that’s not much, a third of a meter per century, but it’s a hell of a force nonetheless. Hard to measure, hard to imagine. Mention Poke-O-Moonshine in rock and ice-climbing circles, and the nods of respect will most certainly happen. My legs took me up a non-technical but damn steep trail, three layers of a cake-like mountain structure full of energy, peace and challenge. The fire lookouts were deactivated in 1988, but you can climb the bottom five sets of steps to acquire a stunning 360-degree view.

This is the very trail my maternal grandparents hiked on their first date in 1930 or so, when Pearl was a one-room schoolteacher (almost-spinster at 26) in very rural Malone, New York with a woodstove for heat and Don was an industrial arts teacher almost close enough to make the courtship practical.

Their relationship wasn’t always companionable but clearly worked because here I am, writing this to you during days of reminiscing and appreciating the worth of those closest to you. It is not our blood that matters, it is the characters of the friends you have chosen to surround you, to be your family, and the dedication of those who show up at times like this, plans interrupted, putting aside their normal preoccupied worlds to focus on the importance of life, loss and love. That’s what I did this week, and I’m still up there, thirty miles from the Canadian border, spending precious time. ~J

Headed to the Adirondacks? Need a rustic place to shack up? Nothing better than Adirondack Lean-tos. Conceived as early as 1800, these gave shelter to explorers of all sorts and the extensive system of huts became a state program in 1919. Under President Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s New Deal hundreds were constructed by the federal government (Civilian Conservation Corps) in the 30s and maintained voluntarily by members of the Adirondack Mountain Club. A blast from the past, for sure. Some things are still free and worth the effort. I know I’m craving those and I’d guess you are, too. Seek them out and take care of them.

Thanks as always for staying aboard these sometimes rough, sometimes heavenly passages. Everybody has a story.— if you don’t believe that just check my website… I try to always stop and listen. Heard anything this week worth relaying? I thought so. If you’re so inclined, please pass it on. I’m wishing you peace.

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© 2026 Janice Anne Wheeler
Living aboard Sailing Yacht STEADFAST again soon!
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