Donald Trump visits Portsmouth, NH

Donald Trump visited Portsmouth, NH on Wednesday, April 27, 2011. It is the first time the potential presidential candidate has been to New Hampshire for his tour.

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Spent the day with Donald Trump and just about every news outlet in the country on the wonderful streets of Portsmouth. Long day. Keep an eye out, after 14 hours today and an early start tomorrow with Rand Paul, I'm just posting this. Today was wonderful and it's just the beginning of the circus.

Behind the Numbers: 300 Acres

Off Pittsfield Road in Loudon, a muddy path leads to a pile of cut and de-branched white birch, hemlock, pine and spruce trees. Next to the log pile is a large yellow machine called a skidder. If you glanced at this scene from a passing car, you'd miss the meticulous planning done by Jake Bronnenberg in ensuring that everything leads back to the promotion of healthy trees and a healthy forest.

"People see machines, stumps and brush and ask how many houses are going in," he says on a sunny day while trekking through the 300 acres he has managed for several years. "(People) connect it with development."

A licensed forester and logger, Bronnenberg grew up around the industry. His father, Jack Bronnenberg, started a logging and trucking company in 1988 after working as a rancher.

Jake was 14 when he first used a chainsaw in the woods alongside his dad. Now 27 and a graduate of a forestry program at the University of New Hampshire, he gained more experience working with a forester for four years before joining his father full time. The two now manage roughly 8,000 acres.

"I knew I always wanted to work in the woods," he says.

In the forest management industry it is common for a forester to survey the land and mark the trees, then let a logger remove the marked trees. Jake does both and is required to take courses to keep up with credits for both certifications.

"There's a future in it if you do it well. It's not always about the money," he says. For Jake, it's more about the relationships he shares with the people he works for and the satisfaction of leaving a healthy forest for future generations. "You may not know if you did a good job for 10 or 15 years."

All aspects of the logging operation have an effect on the re-growth of trees. While the skidder may leave large tracks in the mud, it does so on a planned route so the tires will churn the soil, in turn burying seeds dropped from the trees that Jake has intentionally left standing.

"The woods tell me what to do," he says. "Some places are good to leave alone and let Mother Nature do her thing." If there are signs of wildlife in a tree, it is left untouched.

Accompanied by his dog, Lady, Jake walks through a section that he cleared months ago to promote pine tree growth and stops by some wind-toppled trees. In one spot, a hemlock tree, commonly used for pulp, had blocked the sunlight and was felled, while another hemlock was left untouched to protect the new generation of pines.

Behind the Numbers: 12 p.m. noon

A few minutes before 12 noon, employees began to trickle past their fluorescent-lit cubicles carrying plastic containers with their lunch. Silence, then the slam of a microwave followed shortly by the timer's ring. While some take this hour break to eat, a handful of their colleagues opt to feed a passion.

Kathleen Jaworski, inside sales manager at Bradford Networks, stood outside her cubicle checking the tire pressure on her road bike, which leaned against the wall. She stabilized an air pump with her high-heels and pumped air into the front tire.

A few cubicle-rows away, wearing casual office attire and prescription glasses, Kevin Perron, a software engineer, made his way to the restroom toting a small bag and guiding his bike. He passed the break room where employees began to congregate for lunch. Laughter broke the air, sweet from the aroma of leftovers heating in the microwave. Minutes later, Perron emerged in a black jacket, black riding pants, riding shoes. Sunglasses snugly formed to his head. He grabbed his road bike from its lean on an adjacent wall and stepped out into the sun-swept parking lot. The ground wet from melting snow.

That day, he was joined by six other riders from his work, and one rider who heard about the lunchtime road-bike gathering and stops by when he can.

"We're diehard. We like to ride any chance we get," Perron said.

In 2004, Perron began riding during his lunch break whenever the weather cooperated or to relieve the stress of work. If weather is on his side, he said he is usually on his bike during that hour and eats lunch at his desk when he returns.

"Short ride. That's what you do in the winter," Perron said before a 12-mile lunchtime trek on a Friday afternoon.

"It's not bad out now considering it was 3-degrees out this morning," Kevin Clark, also a software engineer, said.

As the two hopped on their bikes, Clark made a few crank rotations before noticing his back tire was flat. He stepped off, balanced his bike in a nearby snowbank, and pulled out a spare. Shortly, a new tube was in place and they were pedaling out of the parking lot.

"Alright Kev, we've got to take it easy," Perron called out as they turned onto the main road. "Alright, I'll keep it under 25 [mph]," Clark responded. Coming off a ski injury several days earlier, it was Perron's first time back on his bike in about a week.

They made their way from their office on Pembroke Road to Ricker Road, weaving paths between leftover patches of ice, sand, and puddles. Passing the busy roads around the Concord Heights they made their way to the quieter, back roads lined with forests and barns.

"Getting on the bike and riding, for me, is such a total relief," Perron said after the ride.

"Plus, it makes the rest of the day go by faster," he wrote in an email. "You don’t get that 2:15 p.m. tired feeling after a good ride."

Newt Gingrich visits Manchester and Concord, NH

Late Night Slurpee Run

Tuckerman's Ravine: Mount Washington

On Friday, April 15, 2011, I spent part of the day with the snow rangers on Tuckerman's Ravine on the Pinkham Notch side of Mount Washington. The snow rangers are a branch of the US Forest Service on the mountain and prepare daily forecasts for both weather and snow conditions at Tuckerman's Ravine and surrounding trails.

When my parents were in high school, growing up just outside of Boston, they visited Tuckerman's and coming from a family of skiers and snowboarders, I've heard about the place my whole life. When I finally saw it, it was absolutely amazing.

At the end of the day, but before the sun set, I grabbed my snowboard and hiked to the top. It was advised by one of the snow rangers to take Right Gully or Lobster Claw (two easier, less steep trails). I respected the advice but told myself if I'm here, I'm hiking up and going down one of the hardest sections of the headwall. I wanted to do The Lip, a classic run with a slope grade between 50-55 degrees...depending on the snow build up and time of year. I've been snowboarding and skiing my whole life and this year began teaching at a mountain on the other side from where Tuckerman's Ravine is. I am confident in my ability to ride anything, or at least try it.

I never let my fear of heights stop me from doing things and I force my way through or put myself into situations where I should probably be leaving with a lofty smell of urine trailing behind. What I didn't expect was how demanding the hike up would be and how my fear of heights would kick in. And it did when I was about 2/3 of the way up and looked down for the first time. The best way I've described the climb up the headwall is, imagine standing on your toes on a 3 inch-deep platform (just big enough for your toes in snowboard boots) on the sloping roof of a 50-story building for 45 minutes to an hour. You kick in the snow twice to be sure your foot holds, then you take another step up. Repeat. I was carrying my snowboard and jamming it in the snow about a foot or so from my face. I used that to help hoist myself up. I was lucky that the first time I looked down was at the point of no return. Had I looked down before, as it's suggested to be sure you're not in over your head, I may have stopped sooner.

It was then that I realized I should have listened to Jeff, the snow ranger. I had no ice axe. I had no ski poles. I had nothing stopping me from a tremendous slide if I slipped. And I thought, sure death, hitting a rock below at 120 M.P.H. When I realized this, my knees started to wobble. I wanted nothing more than to quit. To sit down and put on my snowboard. To have some control. I stood, because that's the only option, facing the snow. My calves flexed holding my body up. My gloved hands clinging to the snowboard I wedged in. I felt like I was going to pass out. Great. A rag-doll. Looking up, I saw an indention in the snow that looked like a ledge someone dug. I told myself I'd get there and reassess.

There was no ledge. Next I spotted a set of rocks maybe 50-100 feet further. I made it. Decided I made it this far and I wasn't going to whimp out. A few more times I set a target to reach and reassessed.

This whole time there was one other guy climbing in my tracks. He had to be in his 70s. A veteran. He told me to just take my time. I mentioned I made the mistake of looking down. "Oh. Oh, don't do that," he responded. Poles in one hand and skis draped over his right shoulder. He's obviously not scared of heights. A veteran on the ravine, I thought. Maybe one day.

Finally, a cluster of rocks. The top. A sign was about 20 feet ahead but this was the top. Who needs to get to the sign? I'm sure I looked like someone who crawled onto the beach after a shipwreck as I pulled myself and hugged the rocks. I sat and looked out. You can't see the bottom. About 20 minutes later and after my jello legs were back to semi-norm, I strapped on my board. Hopped up, made a turn and down the headwall I went, slicing through the spring snow. People hooted and hollered from the rocks below, as they did for everyone descending the wall. It was crazy how as soon as I strapped in, all my fears went away. I was staring straight down this snow bowl and didn't think twice about the height. The ride lasted about 10 seconds and worth every bit.

Haley Barbour visits Bow, NH

A brief jump back to sports...brief

iPrimary: Haley Barbour visits Bow, New Hampshire

Mississippi Governor Haley Barbour addresses guests and journalists in the living room at the home of Jayne and Shawn Millerick in Bow on Wednesday evening, April 13, 2011. During his visit, he answered questions from New Hampshire voters and discussed issues from Libya, to the economy, to global warming.