I know that this weblog looks for all the world like it is about hiking.  However...it is a little broader than that.   As I have mentioned in other places, it is an attempt to find ways to experience spiritual connection in nature, and outside of church.  What we think of as church is dying.  The plague has accelerated the tendencies that already existed in our society.  I am not worried.  People are still finding social and spiritual connection.  They are continuing to be active in the world.

All this writing is part of a larger project just forming as part of my sabbatical time next year.  Yes, ministers (many of them at least) get sabbaticals.  They are not as long as the ones we know of from academia or business.  They still exist, though.  Mine is formed to delve into this question of connection and to report back here and in other places...like church...which I said was on its way out but still serves many many people who are asking life's deep questions.

Anyway, this is a sermon inspired by my project and delivered to the Eliot Church of Natick, MA.  It is non-creedal, so people have a wide range of views on religion and theology.  Still, they have these questions and like examining them together.  I preach most weeks and will NOT be posting many sermons here.  This one did seem to be relevant however...

DECEMBER 4, 2021 and May 7, 2022

I will not lose, for even in defeat, there’s a valuable lesson learned, so it evens up for me.  --Jay-Z

So this is a story of failure and learning and later...success.  I figured I would tell you that right up front.  It took us two hikes to cover both of the Mount Kinsmans.  They are almost always done together but...well... let's talk...

On December 3, 2021, we went to party.  At said party we decided to hike the Kinsmans (North and South) in New Hampshire the next day.  It would be--for me and Al--our first "winter hike" and we were eager to try it out.  Our friend Howard hiked with us as did Carly Simon (his lovely dog).  I should say, for a first attempt at this level of complexity we did pretty well. These mountains are pretty tall, with North coming in at 4,293 feet and South at a slightly taller 4,358 feet.  We chose the Mount Kinsman Trail instead of the more popular--and shorter--trails on the other side of the ridge. We usually favor lower inclines and accept the extra miles they bring. The trip was beautiful and the views were fabulous, including a spur to Bald Peak early in our climb.  However, it was also pretty darned difficult and when we hit North K we were tired. 

OK...they were tired and I was super-tired.  Also, we had gotten a late start and I don't think any of us were fancying the hours-long climb down in the dark.  After a few moments of discussion on the approach to South we turned back.  It was a depressing moment.  In the end we hiked about 8 miles in the snow, bagged a peak, and congratulated ourselves on our accomplishment but...it still didn't feel quite right.  It was not what we planned.

Fast forward to this past Saturday. We decided to attempt it once again.  It was just me and Al this time and was our "Mother's Day Observed" celebration.  Here is where I want to digress a bit.  If this was some sort of morality tale or life lesson the easiest thing would be to hit the "try try again" button, take our bows, and move on.  Yet that doesn't seem right, because that first hike was an important one.  We learned--or I learned--a ton that made hiking in general (and therefore experiencing nature) easier and more enjoyable.

After that December hike we did a few things.  First, we made a rule to get plenty of sleep.  No more parties the night before! Second, we took some shorter--but still quite challenging--winter hikes off the 52WAV list.  Willard and Pemigewasset remain two of my favorites.  This enabled us to figure out our gear and our winter pace.  They also enabled me to appreciate the winter journey more than I did puffing up North K.  Third, we made a decision to always start early.  This is important.  At our pace we really didn't have the time to get back before dark the first time.  We could have hiked back in the dark.  We weren't concerned about our abilities. We had hiked in the dark before. Still it would not have been pleasant and we do this because we enjoy it.

Fourth and finally, I hit the gym and changed my diet a bit.  Many hikers think of hiking as the way they exercise and it certainly is that for me.  That said, There is a lot going on in my 51 year old vessel and if hiking is going to be more than exercise, I need to be caring for myself regularly.  The Kinsmans taught me that too.

At some point I will write about Willard and Pemigewasset, as well as three 4,000 footers we hiked in winter; Liberty, North Hancock, and South Hancock.  There were other hikes as well where the snow wasn't as much of a factor.  That is enough description of them for now.  It's just a teaser for future posts.  What is important to know is that first attempt made me--and us--change some things for the better.

Anyway, that was the context for our return to the Kinsmans.  We returned in better shape with a better understanding of what we were doing. The climb was mostly straightforward.  We skipped Bald Peak, having already seen it and with a particular goal in mind.  Then, as we headed up, we encountered...winter again.  If you are hiking this in April or May, it is worth noting that, while you may not need your snowshoes, you still need your microspikes.  Our pictures don't show it but after a while the trail was covered in a hard later of ice, which was more of a challenge than the snow.  This slowed us down and created a different set of challenges.  Al likes the snow.  I like no snow ever.  We both agreed that the ice below the tree line was worse.  

That said, we continued on over North Kinsman once again, then out to South Kinsman along the ridge and ultimately victory!  I was glad we returned.  Sure, existentially it was nice to get it done, but that ridge was lovely and worth experiencing on its own.  the view from South--while not as breathtaking as the one from North--was pretty nice too.   Of course we stopped at North on our way back to check it out one more time.

There is something I will miss from the winter, though. Bad weather creates community.  There are people I only see on the top of mountains as there is a loose group of hikers who do this regularly for fun. When we see fellow hiker we stop and talk even if we haven't met. We compare weather conditions and gear and where we are on the list.  On Pemigewasset, for example, we had a lovely chat with a couple of young people about hiking and nature in general. If you were out that day you were pretty committed, after all, so there were plenty of overlapping interests. Over the winter and early spring this group has the mountains to ourselves and we know that the people we see are trail-nerds like us. We are likely in the same Facebook groups! However on this trip there were a bunch of normal people out.  The regular hiker-sorts passed the time of day as usual and we took pictures of each other--I always hope my taking-portraits-of-strangers-on-mountains skills are up to snuff--but it was different. The muggles who were hiking were confused by the strangers trying to communicate.  It was good they were getting out but the "list hikers" became "odd" people again.  Next winter I will probably do more hiking even though I despise snow...I miss the people already.

The whole trip was about 10.5 miles.  The weather will only improve for a while.  Neither hike was my favorite but it was worth doing and I am grateful for what it taught me..  Now on to the next one...whenever that will be.

​Dear Folks,
​I am in the process of catching people up with some early hikes and other encounters with nature that I thought people might find interesting as part of a "How It Began" (HIB) series.  Mostly this will describe specific hikes and perhaps some lessons learned along the way...if there are any.  They are meant to be short and, perhaps helpful in some way to other hikers or fellow-travelers.  I will post the dates of when I hiked a specific mountain since the ones in this series are NOT posted at or near the date hiked.

SEPTEMBER 27, 2021

What a hike this was.  We took a few days and stayed up north to get some hiking done.  First up was the 10.2 mile loop of Tom, Field, and Willey--all 4,000 footers--and the slightly smaller Mount Avalon.  We had a somewhat rainy and overcast day for it, but we had taken the time off and up we went.  When I say "loop" I am being somewhat generous.  The map looks like a lollipop that was dipped in fuzz.  We chose Mount Tom first (off a spur from the Main trail).  Then we hit Field for the first time.  Then there was a longish hike to Willey, then back to Field as the fog closed us in and a return to the actual loop onto Avalon where, blessedly, we experienced one of the best views ever.

I don't really know where to start with this mountain.  I have hiked it a number of times, sometimes with family and sometimes alone.  This particular hike was a solo one on a fabulous fall day.  I took some time at the top to work on a sermon before hiking back down to have coffee with a friend and colleague who lives and serves nearby. 

Wachusett is a monadnock, which is to say it "standeth alone without society" in Thoreau's words. Monadnocks rise up as a single hill in an otherwise lower landscape.  There are a number of these in the area.  Two of which--Watatic and Monadnock, itself--will be written up soon.  This means that--much like the ridges of the Pioneer Valley--they have an unobstructed view in spite of the relative shortness of their peaks.

My trip was about 4ish miles (give or take a mile).  I started at Balance Rock Trail (because I am sucker for big rocks) and headed up Old Indian to Semuhenna to West Side Trail back to Old Indian Trail to the top.  After exploring a bit, I settled on to the observation tower to do some work and to eavesdrop on a group of birdwatchers who were cataloguing raptors.  My way down was even more of a ramble.  Be sure to have a map with you.  There are a bunch of trails leading to different locations and trailheads.  Honestly it wasn't my favorite trail up. That would probably be Harrington/Mid-State Trail.  However it worked for the day.

The one thing that is worth noting is that Wachusett is a ski mountain.  In this case that means that there are many great views that would not otherwise be possible, thanks to ski trail clearings.  On the other hand...it is not as remote or wild as Thoreau's time.  It is an extremely accessible place, with both the good and the bad that go with that. Unlike even many ski mountains, it has a parking lot at the top.  It can be a bit jarring walking off a secluded trail and encountering a scrum of humanity and their cars. This is still Henry's "Watchtower of Massachusetts" but now...it actually has a tower on it. I suggest weekdays in the morning.  Then there are fewer people. 

That said, I do love this mountain.  The walk up and down is always worthwhile.  Both the views and the foliage are worth pausing and examining.  Fall is best, but spring is nice too.  Summer and winter can be a bit chaotic, but other people experiencing and loving nature isn't the worst thing, right?​

​Dear Folks,
​I am in the process of catching people up with some early hikes and other encounters with nature that I thought people might find interesting as part of a "How It Began" (HIB) series.  Mostly this will describe specific hikes and perhaps some lessons learned along the way...if there are any.  They are meant to be short and, perhaps helpful in some way to other hikers or fellow-travelers.  I will post the dates of when I hiked a specific mountain since the ones in this series are NOT posted at or near the date hiked.

SEPTEMBER 18, 2021

Not every hike is in New Hampshire, right?  Another place I like to go is the Pioneer Valley in Central Massachusetts.  The drive is easier and shorter, which is good.  Also--while the mountains are not tall-- since the valley is so low and flat, the views they provide are spectacular...most of the time.

Our first excursion was the Seven Sisters range between Bare mountain and Mount Holyoke.  The name "Seven Sisters" is in honor of a group of historically women's colleges that were conceived as being a female counterweight to the ivy league.  Most of them remain women's colleges today.  However Radcliff College merged with Harvard and Vassar College (the alma mater of one of my sons) became co-educational.  Two of the sisters (Mount Holyoke College and Smith College) are in the Pioneer Valley and--as you may have gathered by the shared name between college and mountain--this trail has something of a special significance to those communities.

I will say this, the low elevation fooled us.  It is actually a pretty challenging trail.  This was particularly true in our case as we hiked it both ways, treating it as an out-and-and back to Mount Holyoke.  It is 5 miles one way and, although they are short, there are about 10 distinct peaks (not 7).  So double those numbers and you get a sense of what we did.

We were going up or down constantly.  While we have since learned that many of the trails in this area have fairly constant views, this trail was more closed in. My back hurt. I was dehydrated and filled with a good dose of despair.  I am glad my wife didn't leave me.  I was awful.   Strangely we weren't even the only people who misjudged.  Every 5th person we saw was in some state of despair as well.  It kinda perked me up a bit, actually....

Fortunately the visitors center at Mt. Holyoke was open so we could refill our water bottles for the way back. Also, the view from the porch at the center was great and made the trip worthwhile. On our way back, knowing what we were up against, we slowed down quite a bit and managed to get back in fairly good order.

I learned a few things about hiking on this trip.  I learned to check the map and be honest about my abilities.  I learned you can never have too much water.  I also learned to enjoy what I can when I can.  I also learned about the area and the cool natural features it offers. The views we did get were great.  Later hikes in this area went well...including some of my favorite hikes of the year.  So there will be more from the Pioneer Valley.  However, I do suggest leaving a car at the other end of this one...

May 2, 2022

​Today's Sabbath Hike was on the Welch-Dickey Loop.  In spite of being two peaks (Welch and Dickey) it counts as one hike for the "52 WAV" list.  This is my 7th so far on the list.  The trail is roughly 4.4 miles but one should expect to get a bit lost going up Welch thanks to the large amount of exposed rock ledging where the blazes (yellow) have worn off.  There are a number of false trails on Welch where people thought they were in the right place, realized they weren't...and drift to the correct location. My one big suggestion comes from my experience with those ledges.  Some of them are steep and could be treacherous in less-than-ideal conditions.  Definitely go up Welch and down Dickey so that you are working against gravity on the worst bits.   That said, be sure to pause a bunch and look behind.  The views were constant.

I had a beautiful day for the walk.  The threat of rain did not manifest until my drive home.  I did--as you might have guessed--get lost a bit at various times on the open rock, but a combination of the map,  the All-Trails app, and just keeping my head up pretty much did the trick.  The first stop of import is an overlook on the way up Welch.  Right before the view was a kiosk with a sign warning people (and their dogs) to beware the "crevice communities" living on the rock shelves.  According to the sign "Crevice Communities are small pockets of vegetation that are uniquely adapted to thrive on the harsh conditions of rocky terrain on exposed mountain summits. They find footing in the thin soil in the crevices and depressions protected from the strong winds."  The overlook had a fairly unique set of these communities so disturbing the vegetation is not a great idea.

In addition they put a number of logs around key areas.  I respected them, of course, and took my time checking out the tenacious plots on the other side of the symbolic barrier.  It was certainly a case of life finding a way.  It was also a good reminder of our own obligations to live close to nature and understand our relationship with it.  I am not entirely sure we learn that in the cities or suburbs where most people live.  There may be a class from time to time. However, the way we move across the landscape and order our lives shows that we--influenced by our culture--believe nature is something to be managed or manipulated for our immediate benefit.  The simple act of placing a log around a tiny ecosystem indicating to passersby that "this is not for you" may be the beginning of deeper understanding for some people. Of course, it may also just be ignored, right?  Let's not be that guy.

I have been thinking quite a bit lately about how we interact with our environment and, frankly, it is depressing.  That said, being out in the relatively remote environment of the White Mountains on the off-season was pretty darn restorative.  I took my time and I suggest you do, too.  The first overlook opens up a phase of fairly challenging hiking and scrambling, first to Welch and then through a lovely ridge filled with spruce trees and then up Dickey Mountain.  Dickey's views from the top are pretty nice, but a bit underwhelming after what has gone before.  That said, there is more to come!  The descent passes over more open rock and more awesome views.  Finally--after a ledge walk--the trail dips back into the trees for the walk to the parking lot.  Looking back from the ledge one can see the giant bowl that makes up the loop itself.

The hike was awesome and I did not do it justice with the pictures here.  I suggest you go try it out yourself.  I will say that it isn't an easy stroll.  The mileage is much shorter than--say--Mount Shaw, but that that means the inclines are steeper and in this case do require a bit of gumption.  My knees hurt a bit when I got home and I used poles! I would also note that this is a very popular hike in-season so spring is a great time to get out there so you can have it mostly to yourself.

April 29, 2022         

                                          "One can do worse than be a swinger of birches"  Robert Frost

Spring is finally here, even up north.  Easter is over at church.  Normally I take Mondays as my sabbath but this week it was Friday so I could head up Mount Shaw with Allison.  Shaw is a member of the 52 With-A-View list.  While I am certain that I have climbed some before.  I do not remember them well, so I am starting over.  Shaw's neighbor is Mount Roberts--#1 on this go-around.  Shaw is #6. 

Mount  Shaw is reachable from the "Castle in the Clouds" park in Moultonborough, NH.  The park name comes from one of the industrialists who used the area as a private playground in the early 20th Century.  Mount Shaw is also named after one of those industrialists.  During Shaw's time as owner, Robert Frost--through a complex of social and family connections--used to hang out there.  

That is something to think about while hiking.  The guy had a good eye for nature.  He is worth examining a bit past the school curriculum poems if you have the time.  In any case, this mountain is a poetic place.

We hiked it on a clear, cold, windy day.  The route we took was about 9 miles and meandered through leafless hardwoods (probably not many birches, actually) and over smaller hills on it way to the top.  Spring is a good time to head up.  The walk consists mostly of a network of snowmobile trails, which are busy in the winter.  In addition, this mountain is very close to Lake Winnipesauke, which means in-season traffic and crowds.  We were there before the chaos.

There were others on the mountain of course but we had our immediate area pretty much to ourselves most of the time.  This was particularly true at the beginning. In fact, we had an early hike encounter with an adult Black Bear and two cubs.  We stopped in our tracks and waited for them to make their way to wherever they were going.  We couldn't get a clear picture and weren't about to disturb them.  It was very, very, cool.

The color palate on the walk was mostly browns and grays with the occasional evergreen breaking the landscape a bit.  The bare trees gave us some great off-season obscured views we wouldn't have had otherwise.  The walk was relatively easy, with a few hard-working, sweaty bits--at one point we were walking up a rocky stream bed--but generally manageable.  The one piece of advice that I think is pretty darn important is to either bring a map or take a picture of the one on all the kiosks near the bottom, or both.  There is no direct route up Shaw.  We hit five trails on our way.  Each is color coded to the map so, if you have a map, you will ultimately make it.

We made it to the top for some fabulous views north into the White Mountains.  There is still snow on some of the taller peaks.  It was very windy so we tucked our way into a side trail for rest and snacks before heading down. 

​As we were on our way back we met and chatted with a retired couple previously from near where we live in Massachusetts.  They live in NH now. They had done "the lists" and made their own to work on.  I like hikers in the north.  In the 'burbs if you say "hi" to someone on the sidewalk they usually react with fear or annoyance.  As a Mainer it took me quite a while to get used to not talking to strangers when I am walking in town.  This was a great opportunity to be back in northern New England and not feel like passing the time of day with a stranger is an imposition to them. 

We took this hike to get in shape for things to come as mud-season fades.  That said, it was a workout in and of itself. 9 miles on the flat will get to you.  These ups and downs make it more of a challenge.  That said, it was a great hike.  It took us about four hours, including a slight detour to catch the lake view on the other side.  Times may vary.

September 10, 2021

Tecumseh is another one of those NH 4,000 footers people argue about.  Some folks suggest it as a "first hike" in the 48 since it is relatively short. Tecumseh is a mere 4,003 feet tall but the elevation gain on the 5 mile long trail is 2,250 feet.  Also, the views from the top are just OK.  The other views come thanks to yet another set of ski trails and require a little extra (easy) hiking to reach.  I hiked this on my own as Allison had done it earlier.  For the record, she didn't like it much.  I loved it and it ranks as one of my top 10 all around hikes...ever.  However, I get what folks are saying when they complain.  It really depends on whether you think you might enjoy miles of stairs.  Yup...miles...

At first there are no stairs and the hike is fairly gradual, then there is a dip.  Then a stunning view from a nearby ski trail off a side trail to your left.  But the stairs begin shortly thereafter and go on and on.  One of the books suggests--unironically--that you can distract yourself by thinking of how much work went into putting these steps in.  Honestly that just made me even more tired.  After the super-epic steps part, though, things smooth out a bit. 

​The bigger challenge for me came from being by myself.  I tend not to bring headphones on a hike so I am alone with my thoughts, which can be fine.  That said, I do like talking. I spent a lot of those stairs singing to myself, which would have been weird if there was anyone to hear.  However, I had the mountain pretty much to myself on the way up, with the exception of a trail runner...and they don't talk.

One of the great things about a straight climb like this was that the whole thing didn't take very long!  It would have been even shorter except there were tons of people coming up as I was going down and almost all of them stopped me to ask how much longer they had to go and if there was a view worth working for. This actually was a bit strange as Tecumseh has the reputation for being under-hiked. As a verbose person I had developed quite a little song-and-dance by the end.  After all, it is a "love it or hate it" mountain. I may not have been super helpful...but I think I was entertaining.

​This was another hike where the view was fine but the foliage was off the handle.  Again, those stairs give you plenty of time to contemplate the trees, moss, and fungi that grow in abundance along the trail.  On my way down I went out to see the side views, which were pretty nice, too.  Then on down to the car.

In the end, you can make your own opinion about whether it was worth it.  The last half mile or so was very "elfy." I thought it was pretty magical even without the unobstructed view one might hope for.  If elfy floats your boat, you will be pleased.  If you need that view and don't want to do the extra stuff...there are other hikes. 

Dear Folks,
​I am in the process of catching people up with some early hikes and other encounters with nature that I thought people might find interesting as part of a "How It Began" (HIB) series.  Mostly this will describe specific hikes and perhaps some lessons learned along the way...if there are any.  They are meant to be short and, perhaps helpful in some way to other hikers or fellow-travelers.  I will post the dates of when I hiked a specific mountain since these are NOT posted at or near the date hiked.
​

September 6, 2021

​I don't remember the views from North and Middle Tripyramid, the 3rd and 4th of my NH 48.  What I do remember is an LOTR-level pile of rocks that the trail went through.  So, so many rocks.  Also, I remember rain.  As I crawled over the rocks I reached a particularly attractive bend and thought "This is beautiful.  I will totally take a picture of it when I head down."  Instead it poured on the way down and all I could do was watch my feet.  Still...it was gorgeous.

These two mountains (4,180 feet and 4,140 feet respectively) are pretty much always done together.  There is an easier way (still hard) and a harder way.  We took the easier one; a 9.6 mile out-and-back that presented us with plenty of pretty foliage and the occasional obscured view.  The hike between the peaks was rather anticlimactic.  The worst was over once we hit North.  Then there was a relatively easy stroll to Middle--or that is how I remember it--and an acceptable view of 48's and 52's we have yet to climb. 

Even though we took the "moderate" trail, the Tripyramids were no joke.  None of these moutnains are, actually. It was long. Also, there were a couple of steep sections, including the massive boulder-strewn switchback that I resent not having photographed. For me the rocky grade meant a lot of crawling and I inched along well behind Allison, losing her frequently.  Strangely, though, I found the challenge and the weather pleasantly distracting. It wasn't just wet and the footing wasn't merely sketchy.  It was wet and sketchy in an interesting way which actually saved the hike.  There was a problem to solve--namely forward motion--and I needed to take my time.  Frequent breaks helped.  So did snacks.  This was one of the only mountains where I found it necessary to put my poles away for an extended period and put all my limbs on the ground.

I don't think I would climb it again on purpose...but I did like it once I got into the groove.  I did this by focusing on what I could most easily see.  I could see the ground, mostly, and what was on it.  I think I managed to appreciate what I saw for the noble facets of creation they were. 

Probably, upon reflection, I would hike back up for the photograph I missed.  Then I would turn around with my Tripyramids experience complete.

August 27, 2021

There are a range of opinions about Cannon Mountain (4,100 feet).  The trail is relative straight but also rather sandy and there are parts where one struggles to maintain their footing on large, flat rocks that create a challenge going up and down.  While this may be your thing, it isn't everybody's.  Also, there are few hikers who enjoy the constant car noise that permeates most of the hike as it is right up against I-93.  To add further insult to injury, we share it with a ski resort and a gondola.  As a non-skier I find that rather interesting.  Still, it is strange to arrive at the top and see a snack bar and random folks who took the easy (but scenic) way up. 

​However....if you have ever driven on that part of the highway and looked out to see the massive stone lump that Cannon is, you know that there is a primal part of you that wants to go sit on that rock and look out over the valley.  I have sat on that rock and...yeah...it is pretty damned impressive.

​What I learned on this hike was that there are many different ways to tackle a mountain.  The gondola folks seemed very happy, of course, but so did the slow moving party we passed on our way up.  There were three people, one of them was talking constantly and stopping at steady intervals.  We actually started by taking breaks whenever they took one, but we got impatient and moved past after they stopped us for a short chat.  On our way back down--and after taking quite some time at the overlooks and the peak--we saw them again still heading up.  They were still talking--and we chatted with them again--and they were still enjoying the day. 

I don't know if they were bagging 4,000 footers, or challenging themselves physically or if they even cared about those things.  What I do know is that they we truly enjoying their time together and getting the most out of controversial Mount Cannon.  I have nothing but respect.

On the way down I wiped out in a big way that almost jeopardized future hikes.  The bad footing is no joke!  After much swearing I collected myself.  Allison backtracked to find me.  Shortly thereafter the now-welcome noise of the highway increased and we found ourselves at the bottom safe and sound.