In the foreboding wilds of the Boston suburbs, beyond the far-flung reaches of the exotic Braintree T stop, there lies a land of unparalleled majesty and wonder, a brooding forest of impenetrable mystery which we, the intrepid hikers of MITOC's Winter School, shall endeavor to penetrate. Locals refer to these unconquered tracts in awe-hushed tones, invoking them by an ancient name passed down through generations of oral tradition. They are simply called "The Blue Hills."

Claimed to be haunted by the ghosts of the untold numbers of hiking parties who failed in their bids for the summit of the 635-foot Great Blue Hill, the Blue Hills are not for the faint of heart. We discourage anyone who a) is over the age of 95, b) is 8.75 months pregnant, or c) has sustained a compound fracture in their femur in the last week, from signing up for this trip. This means YOU!!! Please do not try hide any of the above conditions - you will jeopardize the safety of all of the other members of the trip.

And let us not mince words on the subject of weather: the forecast for Sunday is grim. Projected temperatures hover just above the limit below which life cannot be sustained - roughly 50F (9C). Winds will be gusting as high as 20 kph, and at some points during the day, the sun may even be partially obscured by low-hanging curtains of water vapor and particulate matter. At these extremes, survival cannot be guaranteed. But humankind does not venture forth beyond the boundaries of the familiar because it is easy - we do so because it is hard! So said John F. Kennedy, and so say we!

So join us, brothers and sisters, as we boldly go where none have gone before (rounding to the nearest million). We'll be taking a midday, two-and-a-half to three-hour hike along the Skyline Trail out to Eliot Tower, alleged to be Eastern Massachusetts' version of the infamous Tower of London. There we shall enjoy a picnic of hardtack and boiled boot leather, before pressing on to the summit of The Mountain Itself, The Great Blue Hill. We'll plant a flag, and then beat a hasty retreat before we are overrun by inclement weather. Upon our return to the Reservation Headquarters, we may also consider a stroll around Houghton's Pond, both to re-acclimate to the oxygen-rich air and to reflect upon the comrades we lost on the slopes of The Great Blue Hill. Stay alert, keep moving, and you might be lucky enough not to count yourself among their number.

For more information: http://www.friendsofthebluehills.org/PDFs/dcrmap1.pdf