Spring hiking is mud season, and you need a certain resilience. But what about the trail that brings us back? Where’s the magic in the mud?
Icy conditions on Mt Moosilauke during the first week of May? Call it “A test of snow and flowers.”
There was delicious coffee. Some pondering. Some hiking. A lot of ice, and some nearly fell on my head. Cannon can be strange sometimes.
The weather is weirdly warm. When everywhere else is crummy posthole-ridden trail muck, Waumbek delivers. Why not?
You’re not sure what to do. Your calendar suggests one thing. Your heart another. The mountains, yet a third… Get ready, here it comes!
Tecumseh is the worn flannel shirt, of hiking in New Hampshire. Not at all glamorous. But a perfect lazy afternoon outing.
Sometimes I need to stop what I’m doing, and go do other things for a bit. Which as of late, has worked wonders.
Silvan solace. Equinox. Vernal veracity.
Sunny and warm. Low. Short and sweet. Fruits to be savored, not pondered. All under a deep azure sky that felt limitless. Bliss.
Sometimes, you need to get out, but hang low. In the midst of all that, you grapple with harder questions. But all the while, savor the fruits.
Sometimes you think you’re only booking miles. And then you get home, let it ruminate for a bit, and realize there was a lot more.
Nature will do what nature will do. Sometimes it’s a blessing in disguise when you don’t go out.