The Trail Less Traveled

“Two roads diverged in a wood and I – I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.” – Robert Frost

Early part of the Al Merrill Loop

Heading out this morning for my planned hike, I didn’t know what to expect.  I hadn’t really thought about anything outside of picking a hike that I felt like hiking.  When planning my trip, I knew I wanted to summit a 4k on this hike and I also wanted to work on a region where my redlining percentage was fairly low to boost it up.

Starting with the redlining criteria, my options were the Northern Presidentials, the Moosilauke Region, or Northern New Hampshire.  I knew I wasn’t ready to summit the northern Presi’s with their huge elevation gains in short miles at this point.  Maybe in another hike or two.  The Northern New Hampshire region wasn’t going to get a lot of progress unless I wanted to hike a large section of the Kilkenney Ridge Trail, or piece together several small trails.  This left the Moosilauke Region.

View from the 10th Mountain Division Memorial Outlook

I started looking at some loops that I could hike and redline some significant miles and focused on a couple of different hikes.  That’s when I realized that I really wanted to summit a 4k, so I started looking at the various routes up Mt. Moosilauke.  After some time, I settled on hiking up the ridge to the east of Moosilauke and around to the summit, hiking up Al Merrill Loop to Asquam-Ridge Trail to Beaver Brook Trail to the summit.  I would follow most of the same route back, except I would hike the lower half of Asquam-Ridge Trail on the return, instead of Al Merrill Loop.

I read up on the trail descriptions in the AMC White Mountain Guide, then went to to check out some recent trip reports on those trails to see if there were still lingering snow issues or anything else I should be aware of.  I was quite surprised to find almost no trail reports containing Asquam-Ridge Trail over the past year, and I don’t think I saw a single report with Al Merrill Loop in it.  I like quiet hikes, so this suited me just fine, other than not knowing if there are issues on the trails that could complicate the hike.

Moose Track from the upper section of Al Merrill Loop

I drove into the Dartmouth Outdoor Club’s Ravine Lodge parking area and was somewhere around the 10th or 12th car in the day hiker section at that point in the morning.  There were probably another 6 to 8 in the camper section.  I got my boots on, gear packed and quickly sprayed my legs with bug spray before heading up my trail of choice.

It was a nice easy to moderate grade and fairly steady throughout.  I thought several times to myself that this was such a nice trail to follow that I’m surprised there aren’t any people posting trail reports that include it.  The only thing I can think of is that it is one of the longer routes to the summit.  It can’t be rocks, because most of the trails up Moosilauke are pretty rocky anyway.  At one point, I was following the trail through a muddy section and I saw lots of moose prints, but no boot prints.  I guess the trail just isn’t used much by hikers.

View of Jobildunk Ravine from Beaver Brook Trail

I followed my planned route and after almost five miles, I finally ran into another hiker.  He had already summited and was on his way back down to the Beaver Brook Trail parking area.  He had thought there was a hut down Asquam-Ridge Trail, but I informed him that the only thing was the DOC’s lodge which was several miles down the trail.  That was far more than he wanted to go and definitely not what he thought it was.  It turned out that someone had handwritten “hut” on the junction sign and may have been referring to the lodge.  At the point when I met him, we were only 100 yards from Beaver Brook Trail.  We walked back to the junction together, chatting a bit before we separated; me heading up Beaver Brook Trail and him heading down.

As I climbed closer and closer to the summit, I started meeting numerous hikers, both day hikers and backpackers, coming down from Moosilauke.  Some I chatted with, others we just greeted each other in passing.  Overall, I think I passed 15 or 20 people coming down the trail in that 1.5 mile stretch before getting above treeline.  It was very busy for mid-morning, particularly compared to the 5 miles I had hiked completely alone.

Beaver Brook Trail just after it exits tree line on Mt. Moosilauke

I know Beaver Brook Trail is a popular trail up the mountain, so I didn’t think too much of the number of other hikers, especially considering the lousy spring weather we’ve had and the beautiful day today was.  I knew it was bound to be busy.  I just didn’t know how busy it was going to be.

By the time I reached the summit, the people I passed who were going down Beaver Brook Trail had easily passed 30.  There was a crowd visible as I crossed the ridge crest toward the summit sign.  The wind was fairly strong at the summit, so I didn’t realize how large the crowd was until I actually got there.

There are old stone foundations from an inn that used to be on the summit plateau.  People used to take a horse and carriage up an old road from Warren back in the early 20th century, maybe the late 19th century.  There were lots of people hunkered down inside those old foundations using them as a buffer against the wind.  Other people were milling about the summit sign, waiting turns to take pictures, while even more were on the south side of the summit, down behind a ledge, shielding themselves from the wind.

A view of the final section of Gorge Brook Trail as it approaches the summit, taken from the summit

I didn’t count, but in all there were easily 50 people on the summit, and maybe as many as 100.  For every person that left down Gorge Brook Trail or the Carriage Road Trail, more replaced them.  As I sat to start eating my lunch, I snapped a quick picture of the final stretch of Gorge Brook Trail as it approached the summit.  Counting the people in the picture after I got home, there are 18 in the photo and there’s more trail to the left of the photo edge before it reaches the summit.

I quickly ate my lunch and snapped a few pictures, trying unsuccessfully to get photos of the view without other people in them.  I took one last picture of the summit sign as I left, then headed back down Beaver Brook Trail.  About half way back to tree line, I stopped and took a panoramic photo of the White Mountains to the north.  I’ve posted it to the HikingtoCenter Facebook page since Facebook has such a nice interface for panoramic photos.

As I descended the trail back to the Asquam-Ridge Trail junction, I think I passed another couple dozen people ascending.  Today was just too many people for me and I was ready to get back to my “private” trail again.

After returning to the car, changing my boots, and starting the drive home, I had time to reflect on my hike for the day.  The only summit I’ve been on that had that kind of crowd was Mt. Washington.  That’s not entirely comparable either, since you can drive up Mt. Washington and that’s what most of those people had done.

Today was the third time I’ve summited Mt. Moosilauke.  The first two were both via Gorge Brook Trail.  After my time on the summit today, I’m so very glad I chose the trail less traveled.  I was able to enjoy some peace and quiet on the trail for most of the hike and got a good number of miles of trail redlined in the process.  Overall, for a 12.9 mile hike, excluding the middle four miles on Beaver Brook Trail and that 100 yards near it, I saw a whole two other people on the trail, and they were hiking together.

Baker River from a footbridge on Asquam-Ridge Trail

It was a day that has made me reassess my plans for the Appalachian Trail.  Not whether to do it or not.  I still want to section hike it.  It was more an assessment that I need to consider the when of section hiking each section.  I’m not sure that I want to hike the southern terminus section in the spring when the major northbound bubbles are starting out, but I also have to consider getting that section done before the summer heat sets in as well.  Avoiding the largest bubbles or crowds on the AT may be possible, but I think it may force me to reconsider the sequential sections I had originally wanted to do.  Maybe it will be best to pick the dates for sections that work best and avoid the major heat and crowds.

This isn’t something I’ve seen discussed on boards and websites.  Section hiking also doesn’t have the breadth of resources available that through-hiking has, so this is just something new to consider and I’ll need to figure out what my planning priorities are going to be.  There’s so much to learn and plan that it’s both overwhelming and exciting at the same time.


Hike Date: Saturday, June 8, 2019
Location: Mt Moosilauke, White Mountain National Forest, Warren, NH
Trails: Al Merrill Loop, Asquam-Ridge Trail, Beaver Brook Trail
Total Mileage: 12.9 miles
Redline Mileage: 9.0 miles
Redline Progress: From 30.5% to 31.2%

Hobbies New and Old and Some Lessons That Tie Them Together

I’m not sure that my hiking is a hobby at this point, but it’s the best word I can come up with for my level of interest combined with my level of activity.  I’m probably classified mostly as a “weekend warrior” since I get to hike once a week, provided family commitments don’t prevent me from getting out one day during the weekend.  Occasionally, like this past Friday, I’ll take a day off from work to go hiking when the weekend schedule doesn’t work out for me.  However, I want to take it beyond this.

On the other end of the “hobby spectrum” is blogging.  This one is new for me, or at least a new attempt.  I’ve previously blogged briefly and failed miserably to keep it going.  My original blog, done a few years ago, was going to be a hiking journal with some pictures to keep family and friends included in my hiking adventures.  It didn’t last long.  This one is already more developed than that one was and is going much better in my mind.  Some part of that is the increase in social media connections and another aspect is that my mindset has been much different going into this attempt.

A small stream crossing Bickford Brook Trail

Obviously, there is a connection between these two hobbies, which is that the blog is an extension of my hiking, my goal to hike the AT, and the preparation to achieve that goal.  There’s also a connection between my two blogs (outside of the hiking theme).  I’m at that point where outside influences are taking priority over my desire to write blog posts at a reasonable frequency.  This was the death knell of my original blog.  Summer started and family time became a higher priority.  I didn’t have the motivation to spend time in front of the computer writing a blog post immediately after my hike and after I was a few hikes behind, it just seemed like a total waste of time to continue blogging at all.

I’ve hit that point again.

Sort of.

I took this past Friday off work to go hiking due to a combination of weather and family activities over the weekend.  With a busy weekend followed by a couple of days at work that has kept me significantly occupied, I have had the desire to write a new post, but not the motivation to actually do it.  Every night since my hike I have sat in front of the computer thinking about writing a post about Friday’s hike.  Each time I ended up doing something else instead, whether it was catching up on paying bills, or playing a game, or surfing internet sites on hiking or other topics.

Despite continuing to try to avoid snow, there was still this patch along the trail.

I felt like I was spiraling into the same trap as last time.  I was getting too far removed from the hike to write a good blog post about it.  Then I was going to go on another hike this weekend and would trap myself into the mindset that I couldn’t write about that hike until I’d written about the previous hike I’d skipped writing about.  Then, I got to today.

I don’t know what happened.  Sometimes the mind processes things in strange ways and makes connections that you’re not even considering.  Today, I realized that I haven’t been having a hard time motivating myself to write a blog post.  If I’d forced myself to do that, it was probably going to be a standard-type trail report:  Trails hiked, miles hiked, trail conditions, interesting things seen, throw in some pictures, and so on.  This was the reason I hadn’t written it.  It wasn’t what I wanted to read, so it wasn’t something I wanted to write.

The survey marker at the summit of Speckled Mountain.

What I needed to realize was that I wasn’t interested in a typical trail report.  The hike was wonderful with beautiful weather in Evan’s Notch that day and I have pictures to prove it.  However, while the hike was fun and interesting, a trail report wasn’t going to capture the spirit of the hike nor was it going to be interesting to myself looking back at it, let alone most readers.  Instead, my subconscious brain forced me to consciously realize more important lessons which will hopefully lead to a more interesting and longer lasting blog site than my previous endeavor.

First and foremost:  This is Hard.

I’m not a writer, I’m an Accountant.  At least, that’s according to training and education.  I can be a good writer and I can be a very creative person under the right circumstances.  I would be a horrible reporter or anyone else who had to write on a routine schedule or a deadline for a living.  My writing doesn’t seem to work that way.  I’ve always been able to write excellent papers when the spark hits me.  It’s like a spigot fully open with creative ideas, interesting imagery, and extensive vocabulary.  The problem is that I can’t voluntarily open the valve, or at least not close to fully open.

One of the many feathered friends hanging around the summit.

I think it’s one of those skills that good professional writers have.  The ability to tap into that creative pool of ideas and language, as needed, is a gift.  It’s a gift that probably gets refined and honed through use and practice, like most skills, but it’s still a gift.

For me, when the valve is open, the writing comes easily.  I’ve received lots of positive comments on my writing from people who have read my work when this happens.  Teachers and professors have said I should write more.  When the same teachers and professors read other papers written for a deadline which didn’t have that spark behind it, the reactions are definitely more muted and then the constructive criticisms come out about structure and grammar and voice and other “English Class stuff”.

From front to back are the Baldface Range, then the Carter Range, and Mt Washington poking up behind them all.

My second lesson learned really goes back to a saying, of which there are lots of variations:  “Nothing worth doing is easy.”

There are lots of paths I could follow to tie this lesson into hiking or blogging.  Hiking is hard and to me it is worth doing.  On the surface, I initially wouldn’t have made the same statement about blogging.  I looked at blogging as something that would journalize or document my process and learnings about preparing for an AT section hike.  I hoped it would be useful to other people as they prepared to do the same thing.  However, I thought it would be fun and easy and something I could look back on after my AT experiences as a bit of a memoir.

Boy, was I wrong.

In the beginning, the energy and enthusiasm for the blog was there, making the writing and posting easier to do and interesting like most new endeavors.  Looking back at the past couple of posts, the rote of trail reports has infused itself into the posts and while it helps to provide a timeline of my hiking and a basic story along with it, the post doesn’t convey any sense of life to the story it is trying to tell.

Looking north to the Mahoosuc Range.

This spring has been a series of personal growth moments for me, which is something I haven’t opened myself up to for a long time.  Apparently, I’ve got some catching up to do. 

For a long time, life has been a lot about family and work responsibilities, with hiking mixed in for recreation.  It was just a “grind through life” mentality.  I’ve now made the conscious decision to balance life more, or bring myself to the center of it.  Work will take a lower level of priority overall, with my family and my self increasing in priority, hopefully to a relative balance of the three.  Making that decision was the first step in the growth process.

Kezar Lake (I think) from Blueberry Ridge Trail.

Once I made that decision, I followed it up by deciding to attend the AMC 4000 Footer annual meeting.  I’d been hemming and hawing for months since I submitted my completion application and received the information about the meeting.  My wife and I are both definitely introverts and large gatherings with lots of people we don’t know aren’t really our usual scene, but I finally got off that fence and decided to go.

As I posted back in April, about that meeting, this was a continuation of that growth.  It was an opportunity to realize what hiking meant to me overall, but also what other people have gained from hiking.  Some of them gained far more than I have and had much harder journeys to completing their lists than I did.  It further reinforced the decision I made earlier in the year to finally start section hiking the AT, but more importantly, the presentation opened my eyes to the fact that while I am a goal oriented person, I could change my outlook and make goals that were more flexible, allowing me to enjoy my hikes more.  No longer did I have to make the summit the goal.  I also didn’t need to have a finishing time as a target.  It was going to be about the hike, the enjoyment, and the experience, rather than the time or the distance, specifically.

Shell Pond from the Blueberry Mountain ledges.

Now, I’ve extended that lesson to this blog.  I finally realized that I don’t need to blog each hike to be successful at this.  The important thing is to write something worth writing, which isn’t necessarily going to be easy each time.  If it is worth writing, then I hope it ends up being worth reading for more than just myself.  However, as long as it’s worth it to myself to read, then that’s all that really matters.  If I take care of making it worth writing, then things should just take care of themselves and all the readers after me will hopefully enjoy and learn from what I write.  Hopefully, this will help me practice opening up that spigot and I can start getting better at doing so.

And that ends up leading to the next (and maybe most important) lesson learned so far.  Take care of the most important pieces for the right reasons and in the right ways, and all the rest should fall into place.

Bickford Brook from Blueberry Ridge Trail just before the southern junction with Bickford Brook Trail.

To finish up, I don’t want to leave out those people who were checking in to see what trails I’ve hiked since my last post, so here’s a quick trail report summary of Friday’s hike.  I’ve interspersed pictures from that hike throughout the post with captions about what the pictures include.

Hike Date: Friday, May 31, 2019
Location: Evan’s Notch, White Mountain National Forest, Stow, Maine
Trails: Bickford Brook Trail, Blueberry Ridge Trail, Blueberry Mountain Loop
Total Mileage: 9.1 miles
Redline Mileage:7.4 miles
Redline Progress:From 30.0% to 30.5%

Maybe the next post will be more trail report than philosophical reflection, but we’ll see what comes out of the spigot next time.

Fate or Coincidence?

I’m not a terribly spiritual person.  I’m definitely not a religious person, although I was raised as a Protestant Christian.  I’m very logical and have a fairly scientific view of things.  This leads to questioning lots of the aspects of religion and spirituality.  I guess at this point in my life I have evolved my views of God away from the traditional human-form all-powerful being that created everything and has control over everything to a more amorphous ‘forces of nature’ conglomerate.

At times, I might wonder “why me” when things seem to be going badly for no reason but I also don’t expect any answer or explanation beyond a string of unfortunate coincidences.  For me, hiking is an opportunity to commune with nature for a brief time, which is about as close to a church service as I get these days, unless it’s for a wedding or a funeral.  I just don’t believe in a force controlling our lives at an individual level.  Lately, however, things have happened to question that, at least a little.

I’ve been contemplating the Appalachian Trail for quite a few years now.  I originally wanted to thru-hike it at some point, and maybe I’ll still be able to do that, but I’ve come to the acceptance that my chosen career path, family, and lifestyle won’t likely accommodate a four-to-six month vacation on the trail.  At least not until I retire.

A couple of years ago I made the decision that I could section hike the AT and manage to work that into my life, which opened up the possibility of completing what I wanted to, but within the constraints I had to work with.  As I mentioned in a previous post, my goal is to section hike the AT sequentially from South to North to replicate the order of experiences a thru-hike would produce.

This year, I had almost no chance to get out and hike over the winter.  I definitely had a serious case of spring fever and my wife suffered with moodier days and waspish responses on “down” days, through no fault of her own.  At some point this winter, my resolve to hike the AT seemed to strengthen and I had decided that I would start training this year to prepare for some serious section hiking.  Eventually, I even got to the point to set a plan and start my actual hike in 2020.

My wife doesn’t like the idea, entirely.  She knows that I’ll be gone for a week or two at a time, leaving her alone to take care of our daughter who will turn 6 near the end of next summer.  She’s been very supportive though and I appreciate that.  She actually suggested the blog to me and the idea stuck, so all of you reading this can thank her (or blame her) for it.

My work schedule finally opened up in April and the weather cooperated and I finally got out for a hike, which I already wrote about in my “Building the Plan” post.  That helped significantly with the spring fever issue.  My mood lightened and the clouds parted, leaving me with a much sunnier disposition.  I was eager for the snows to melt and the hiking trails to dry up and get past the “shoulder” season between winter and spring in the Whites.  Whether directly attributable or not, the improvement in my mood from this short hike also seemed to confirm the decision that I would start section hiking the AT in 2020.

Next came the AMC 4000 Footer Club’s annual meeting where I was one of many being recognized for completing one of the various lists in the prior year.  Between the atmosphere at the meeting, the memories of all the summits reached, and the various stories told about what those achievements meant to people, I realized that the urge to hike the AT had become even stronger.

This past weekend, I hiked toward North Kinsman.  It being May 4th and also being a Star Wars fan, I somehow wanted to share “May the 4th Be With You” day in some small way with the hikers on the AT, but as I chronicled at the time, I didn’t reach the summit and instead was satisfied with a far better result than expected, even if it didn’t achieve the arbitrary goal of reaching the summit.  Instead, the route I took home passed through Kinsman Notch and I stopped at the parking area for Beaver Brook Trail.  I got out and walked a few feet up the trail, officially putting me on the AT for a couple of minutes that day.  I know it seems absolutely silly to do such a meaningless act, but for some reason it meant something to me in that moment.  A reinforcement of my decision to do what I was doing.

Last week I also started jumping in head first to research backpacking in general and specifically the AT.  I haven’t been on a backpacking trip in more than 30 years, back when I was in the Boy Scouts.  I needed to relearn what to do and realized that lots of things have changed over those three decades.  While doing that, I ran across a free backpacking seminar that was being put on by the Outing Committee of the Maine Chapter of the AMC.

That seminar was last night and was well done.  It certainly wasn’t an in-depth tutorial to backpacking, but covered all the basics over the two hours.  It wasn’t meant for long thru-hikes, but geared toward an introduction to one-to-five night backpacking trips.  Regardless, the basics are the same.  Thru-hiking primarily requires planning for resupply as the major difference.  There were close to 20 attendees and it was split about 2-to-1 women-to-men.  Everyone had different reasons for attending the class and a few, like me, had goals to hike the AT, although I seemed to have much more concrete plans than the others did at this time.

Leaving the class and heading home, I realized that I was much closer to getting started than I realized.  Right now, to start getting out, I need a pack larger than my day pack and a shelter of some sort, most likely a tent.  I have everything else I need for a short backpacking trip.  That piece of knowledge seemed to further solidify my desire.

Now, looking back at the past month or so, I have started to wonder:  Why does everything seem to be reinforcing my decision to hike the AT?  Was the timing of the backpacking seminar just random coincidence?  Why do I feel so comfortable blogging about myself when I am usually a pretty closed-off person to strangers?  Everything seems to be leading me in the singular direction toward the AT.

At this point I’m still a skeptic on fate and destiny but, the logical, scientific approach leads in both directions.  You can question where the evidence is to substantiate the existence of God, Fate, and other metaphysical beliefs.  However, when a sequence of things happen which seem to be too coincidental to be random, you can also question whether you’re being given the evidence you’ve asked for.  The key is not to close yourself off from any potential answer.

For now, if Fate is real, and I’m meant to thru-hike the AT, maybe a solution will present itself.  In the meantime, I’ll continue my plans to section hike it with the firm belief that it is the right decision for myself and my family at this time.

Spring Hiking in the Whites

I finally had another weekend with time to get out to hike.  It’s been mostly miserable for weather since I was last out two weeks ago.  Rivers have been roaring with the rain and melt water and they’re finally starting to subside.  Trail reports still indicate multiple feet of snow above 4,000 feet, but with the rain and temps eating away at the snow cover quickly, I headed out in the morning to cover the nearly 2.5 hour drive to Franconia, NH for my planned hike, as well as my alternate hike.

As part of my new outlook on hiking, I didn’t want to race the clock per se.  My daughter is not quite five yet, so if I leave before she gets up in the morning AND don’t get home until after bedtime, life gets less pleasant.  Therefore, I was less focused on the clock today, but still mindful of the overall timeline.  I was ready to leave the house a bit before 6:00 but I waited until she was up to say goodbye.  A 10 minute delay wasn’t going to create problems with the hike and would make for a much happier girl throughout the day.

My route there took me through Crawford Notch, and with all the water flowing from the rain and melting, I stopped on the way to the top of the notch to get pictures of the two waterfalls which are about 100 yards apart:  Silver Cascade and Flume Cascade

Silver Cascade; Crawford Notch, NH
Flume Cascade; Crawford Notch, NH

My plan was to hike Mount Kinsman Trail up to Bald Knob.  Depending on how I felt and also the weather and snow conditions, I had the option to hike up to North Kinsman and along the ridge to South Kinsman.  The goal two weeks ago was distance, with a bit of climbing.  Today’s goal was all about the climb.  Climbing to Bald Knob would give me 1,391 feet of elevation gain, while going all the way to North Kinsman would yield 3,182 feet of gain.

The trailhead is just south of Franconia, on Route 116 and there’s plenty of parking for a dozen or so vehicles.  There were two others there when I arrived.  There was no sign of snow and trail reports had been indicating that snowshoes weren’t very useful anymore, so I left my snowshoes in the back of the car today.  I attached my “spring” microspikes to my pack, as well as my hiking poles, and started out in fog and light drizzle.  For my microspikes, there really isn’t any difference between my “spring” spikes and my “winter” spikes.  Spring spikes take a beating on rocks and gravel and don’t stay sharp.  Once the snow starts to melt down to the ground, I swap over to the older “spring” pair.

Overall, my gear consisted of:  baseball cap, sunglasses, wicking T-shirt, Techwick medium weight shirt, medium weight long underwear (bottom), light weight smartwool socks and my Salomon waterproof backpacking boots.  In, or on, my pack were my fleece jacket, a winter hat, mid-weight winter gloves, glove liners, my spikes, my poles, and 3 liters of water, along with food and a pack saw for any blowdowns needing to be cleared.

The early trail is fairly easy and was dry and solid, despite the rain overnight and the current drizzle.  The trail began to get wetter and softer about a half mile in.  Around one mile I climbed into the cloud bank, as the fog appeared and got thicker.  After a bit of a climb, I started reaching the stream crossings.  One has a waterfall next to the trail.  The last major crossing has a spur path to a flume, but I’ve been down the spur before and it’s wet and slippery in summer, so I wasn’t about to try it in today’s weather.

Trail-side Waterfall, Mount Kinsman Trail; Easton, NH

Shortly after the spur path to the flume is where the Mount Kinsman Trail takes a hard left and the Bald Knob Spur goes to the right.  Judging how I felt, I decided to try North Kinsman and I would head over to Bald Knob on my return.  Up to this point, there hadn’t been any snow on the trail.  About 200 yards after the junction were the first small chunks of unmelted ice remaining from the winter’s monorail.  Within another quarter-mile, the monorail had become fairly consistent and too difficult to avoid, so I pulled my spikes off my pack and put them on my boots.

Rotting Monorail on Mount Kinsman Trail

The packed, solid portion of the monorail ranged from a foot wide in places, down to just a few inches in others.  It was very challenging to stay on the monorail throughout the climb up North Kinsman.  My poles often broke through the snow to the sides and I had to be careful not to rely on the poles too much for balance, or else I’d end up falling off the monorail when the poles broke through.

Up wasn’t a terrible problem.  It was a bit slow and tedious, making sure to stay on the packed monorail.  I ended up getting to an elevation of about 3,600 feet when my legs decided they were done.  It was a hard decision to turn around at that point.  I was only about a half mile from the summit, but I also had about 600 feet of gain to climb in that half mile.  I had already been slowing down during the climb and if I had pushed myself to reach the summit, I probably would have been very late getting home tonight.

Reading a bunch of AT blogs and Instagram posts, there are a bunch of “words of wisdom” that can be found, but there are two that have stuck with me so far.  First, “Hike Your Own Hike”.  Do it your way, not someone else’s way, because you’ll be happier and more fulfilled doing it the way you want it done.  Second, “Listen to Your Body”.  When your body says it’s done for the day, let it rest.  If it needs a zero day, give it a zero day.  I’ve been notoriously bad at the second one as a day hiker.  I have pushed myself to hit my targets and reach my goals, whether it be time targets, distance, or reaching the planned objective of my hike.  I hate failure and I have paid the price after a hike in the past, where my feet are sore, joints ache, and I have low energy for days afterward.  This is another of the adjustments I’m making to my hiking style this year, as I prepare for the AT.

In the past, I’d have pushed on to complete the summit and paid the price.  Today, I listened and turned around.  Now, for me, down is always faster.  I have good knees and I have very little problem moving quickly down a mountain.  However, down on a rotten monorail that is three feet above the ground is far more dangerous than that same monorail when going up.

When you are climbing, you move slowly and are picking your footing carefully.  Down, you are fighting gravity and your footfalls land much heavier, leading to more postholes.  Go down too quickly and you run the risk of postholing and breaking ankles, twisting knees, or other injuries.  On the way down today, I passed two groups on their way up.  The first group, I moved off to the side of the trail so they could go by me and I promptly broke through and sunk to my waist.  Fortunately, much of the snow had melted, leaving empty space under the suspended monorail and it was easy to climb back onto the monorail after they passed.  However, that was done carefully and with the expectation that I would fall through.  The results can be completely different if I was moving ahead at a rapid speed and broke through.

For the second group, I happened to find a spot to the side of the monorail where a rock and stump stuck up through the snow and it gave me a solid purchase to stand on as they went by.  Much easier and safer this way and was easy to step back to the monorail and continue on my way.

Eventually, I reached the junction with the Bald Knob Spur and followed it for the 0.2 miles to the open ledges.  Unfortunately, they were still mostly in the clouds, but it was a good opportunity to sit and rest and enjoy the peace and quiet.  While I was there, I ate a snack, drank some more water, and realized how muddy my legs were.  There’s a reason I keep choosing waterproof boots.  Today would have been miserable with wet cold feet.  It’s also the reason for the long underwear today.  While the temperatures were starting out in the low 40’s and were in the low 60’s by the time I returned to my car, my legs stayed warm and mostly dry despite my outer hiking pants being soaked and mud covered.

Spring Hiking Fashion

As a bonus, the sun broke through the clouds when I was about a mile from the trailhead and I managed to find a few flowers starting to blossom.  The first is a red trillium that is ready to blossom, but not quite there yet.  I’m not much of a botanist, so I don’t know what the second flower is, but it was in bloom and I took its picture.

Red Trillium, Not Quite Blossoming
Unidentified Small Yellow Flowers

Overall, today was a great day!  I exceeded my expectations on my climb, making it far closer to the North Kinsman summit than I expected.  I got to drive around and see a bunch of waterfalls and it was a wonderfully relaxing day on the trail.

Looking Back

As I mentioned on Friday, it’s a weekend full of goings-on, most of which is family related.  I have a break this afternoon before the next event this evening, so I’m taking the time to write this post while I can to update everyone on what’s happening in my hiking life.

Last night was the Annual Meeting and Awards Night for the AMC Four Thousand Footer Club and I was one of a large number of awardees receiving recognition for completing one list or another.  There are four lists which the Club recognizes both general completion and separately for winter completion:  The Northeast 111 Club, the New England Hundred Highest, the New England Four Thousand Footers, and the White Mountain Four Thousand Footers.  I should also note that the club recognizes canines for the White Mountain Four Thousand Footer list (winter and regular).

For me, I completed the White Mountain Four Thousand Footers which is the “easiest” of the lists.  It’s definitely a worthy accomplishment, so being the easiest doesn’t diminish from the work required to complete it.  I’ll be working on the New England Four Thousand Footers this summer as part of my conditioning program.  The NE4k list is the WM4k list, plus the 4,000 foot peaks in Vermont (5) and Maine (14), so I have 19 to go.  There aren’t any 4,000 foot peaks in Connecticut, Rhode Island, or Massachusetts.

I knew that the lists were popular.  In fact, when I completed my list on Mt. Carrigain in the fall, there were almost a dozen people on the summit at that time who had just completed their lists as well.  I was made aware of how popular the lists really are when I drove into the meeting location at Exeter High School in Exeter, NH and saw a packed parking lot.

The entire evening is a great celebration of the accomplishment of completing whichever list(s) you have completed, but the highlight of the night was the slideshow presentation.  It was exceptionally moving and well done.  I could relive the joy and pride of summiting many of the various mountains pictured in the show, followed by deep compassion of hearing the stories of others who, after significant lows in their life, pulled themselves to the top of mountains to succeed where they previously felt like a failure.

Completing these lists is so much more than checking a box next to a mountain and saying “Done”.  It means a lot to each of us, often in different ways, but we’re all part of a hiking family now and that means the most, in the long run.

For me, while going through the emotional ebbs and flows of the presentation, I realized that it had steeled my resolve to section hike the AT.  Not just to start section hiking it, but to actually complete it.  If I could find a way to thru-hike the AT, I think I would plan to do that, but I don’t see that possibility in the cards at this time.  Maybe later in life, but not now.

I also came to an understanding within myself that I need to slow down and enjoy the experiences on each hike.  Toward the end of my list, due to a variety of self-imposed reasons, I hurried through the tail-end of my list to get it completed.  I hiked to a schedule, rather than hiking to experience the hike and the natural surroundings.  It isn’t that I didn’t enjoy the hikes, but I definitely didn’t enjoy them as much as I could have.  I’m going to make sure that my scheduling on the AT leaves plenty of time for enjoyment of, and reflection about, the trail, its history, and the wonders around me at the time.

As things stand, next weekend looks like it will be open to allow me to go hiking.  The weather looks good for both Saturday and Sunday, but the weather in New England is notoriously fluid, so we’ll see what the forecast looks like come Thursday or Friday.  There’s been a ton of melting in the mountains over the past week and there will be a lot more snowmelt over the coming days.  Trail reports will do a lot to determine my plans, but I definitely need to get out and put some miles and elevation on my legs to prepare for a real push this summer.

Now, it’s getting close to time to prepare for the next, and last, event of the weekend.  I’m planning to start the scripting of the various sections of the AT, beginning with the southern terminus at Springer Mountain.

Building the Plan

Based on everything I’ve read about hiking the AT, there needs to be a lot of pre-planning involved.  Planning is in my nature, so it shouldn’t cause much problem.  My basic plan for this year is: (i) to lose weight; (ii) to improve my physical conditioning; (iii) to research, select, and acquire needed gear; and (iv) to develop a general itinerary for the first two or three sections that I will be hiking.

In late February, I stepped on the scale for the first time in a while.  The display gave me a number I wasn’t expecting:  242 even.  I knew I had crept up to the low 230’s in the fall, but I didn’t realize I had grown so much over the winter.  I’ve been in the upper 220’s often enough in the past, and around 230 occasionally, but I’d never been close to or over 240.  While this is part of the drive to get myself back into shape and ready for the challenge of the AT, I’m also going to use it to my advantage in the planning process.

Since I’ve regularly hiked in the 220’s, I’m going to use that as a base weight for calculations.  Some articles I have read use 20% of body weight as a guide for the max weight of your pack on a thru-hike, including food and water.  To keep things at round numbers, I’m going to use 225 as my calculation weight, yielding a max pack/gear weight of 45 lbs.  I’m also going to approach this from a little different angle than the articles I’ve read.

Every step up or down, your legs are lifting or lowering your entire body weight, as well as everything you’re carrying.  With this in mind, I’ll be targeting a total hiking weight of 270 lbs. for training purposes.  My theory being that as I lose body weight and add weight to the pack, my legs will be conditioned properly for that weight.  If I select gear appropriately, I will hopefully be able to hike at significantly less than that 270 total, making the actual AT hikes easier from a conditioning standpoint.

Beginning in late February, I started by changing my diet in order to lose some initial weight.  Right now the “shoulder season” of hiking is in full swing and a hike right now in the White Mountains (“Whites”) can have you hiking in anything from dry trail to trail with running water to ice to three feet of snow and periodic post-holing, even in snowshoes.  These trail conditions are more difficult to hike in than true winter or summer hiking and with my lack of physical conditioning over the winter, the hiking would have to take a lower priority to dietary changes to start.

A couple of weeks ago I took a vacation day from work and headed to the mountains to get a hike in and boost my metabolism a bit.  I’d lost about 6 or 7 pounds at that point and my weight had started to stabilize at that level.  I needed to get some exercise to kick my body back into calorie burning mode again.  The weather had not been particularly great with warmer weather and periodic rain making trail conditions less than favorable as the snow pack on the trails softened up and less supportive of weight.  However, I chose the day I did based on the weather forecast of a nice clear sunny day, but, more importantly, a crisp cold night before.

The cold night would solidify the trails and make hiking easier until the temperatures warmed up enough to turn the snow mushy again, hopefully avoiding the need for snowshoes for the bulk of the trip as well as post-holes.

The hike I planned started out at the Lincoln Woods parking area on the Lincoln, NH end of the Kancamagus Highway.  This Scenic Byway is sometimes referred to as “The Kanc” locally, and definitely shortens the typing time for blogging.  Knowing I had nowhere near enough conditioning to actually summit a mountain, particularly in the changing trail conditions I was going to run into, I chose a route to accomplish what I needed to accomplish, while giving me the flexibility to extend or shorten based on trail conditions or how my body felt.

Starting at the Lincoln Woods parking area, I followed the Lincoln Woods Trail, which follows an old logging railroad line for nearly five miles.  I started off bare-booting from the parking lot, but quickly put on microspikes, as there was quite a bit of ice and hard pack on the trail right from the beginning.  There is very little elevation gain on the Lincoln Woods Trail.  I think it is about 200 feet total for the entire length.  The trail is wide and heavily traveled, making it an easy walk along the East Branch of the Pemigewasset River.

At roughly the 1.5 mile mark the Osseo Trail splits off to the left, which is the route had chosen to take.  The temperatures remained below freezing at that point, and the lesser traveled Osseo Trail had a solid packed foot path, but only one person wide, rather than the sometimes 4 to 5 person wide Lincoln Woods Trail.  For another quarter mile or so the trail remains mostly level with minimal gain, winding along the Osseo Brook through bare-branched hardwoods.

At this point, I started the section of the hike that was my main goal.  I knew I needed to work on elevation gain, but I also needed to get some mileage on my legs.  I had done an easy hike of just under two miles so far and would have to hike those same miles out again.  Now came the part to work on my climbing.  Having not been out at all since December, and even that was more of a light hike instead of a mountain, I chose the Osseo Trail due to its long, moderate climb with minimal steep sections until getting close to the summit of Mount Flume.  It gave me what I needed, at a rate which would be good for my present condition, plus, if everything exceeded my expectations, I could continue into the steep section and ultimately summit the mountain.

I started the moderate climb and I could tell from the trail conditions that the temperature had gotten above freezing, even if only a bit.  The sun was well up and without leaf cover, the snow was getting the full brunt of the spring sun.  I ended up climbing for a mile, maybe a bit more.  The trail mostly ranged from one to three feet of snow and traction was sufficient.  I had my snowshoes with me, but hadn’t needed them to this point.  I did run into a couple of small areas where the trail was open to the sun for long periods of the day and had actually melted down to bare, albeit muddy, ground.

I started to find myself needing to stay in the very center of the trail or else I started to break through the snow crust.  I never really post-holed, but that was only because I quickly shifted my weight back to the other foot when I started to sink in.  I even started sinking into the trail’s monorail a bit at times as well, but never broke through.  My legs were starting to feel like they were reaching the end of their day, at least for going up, and the temperature had continued to climb, so, with about three miles to hike back to the car I turned around and headed back, hoping that the lower elevations hadn’t warmed up enough to require snowshoes before I got back to the almost pavement-like Lincoln Woods Trail.

Thankfully, the trail remained firm enough, since I don’t think my hip flexors were in any condition to do any snowshoeing at that point.  I was able to return to the car without any issues, had gotten a good early season conditioning hike in, and tried to kick my body into gear to help lose more weight.  In the two weeks since, I’ve lost another few pounds and I finally dropped under the 230 mark, down to 229.4, however my weight is back to fluctuating up and down with a very slight trend downward.  It’s definitely time to get out on the trails to boost the metabolism again.

As for gear, I have some work to do.  Over these past 8 summers, I’ve hiked a lot of trails and completed the 48 4,000 footers in New Hampshire.  I never spent the night on the trail for any of them.  For one long traverse I did sleep in the back of my SUV and start my hike at 4 am to avoid the 2.5 hour drive to start the day.  With this in mind, I have a sleeping bag, a self inflating pad, and all the necessities for day hiking, plus some extra preparedness types of things for emergencies.

One of the major items I need to get is a tent.  I need to research it, buy the right one, and go out and use it a few times to get comfortable with setting it up, taking it down, and packing it away.  Doing this will also let me assess my current sleeping bag’s usefulness on a backpacking trip, as well as the inflatable pad.  Some of my reading suggests I should go with a foam pad, with similar weight, but without the risk of leaks/repairs, and more easily strapped to the outside of a pack for space concerns.

I also know I need a backpacking pack instead of the day pack I have.  My pack is on the large size for a day pack, but it isn’t large enough to handle the gear and food for a week or two.  I originally chose large so I would have room for the extra layers needed for hiking during the winter, but that still doesn’t compare to the 45+ Liter capacity of backpacking packs.  I should be able to make due with it for an overnight or a weekend during the summer, until I get a new pack and trial run a several-day hike, hopefully mid-to-late summer.

Lastly, itinerary planning is something that I’ll be able to do during evenings and bad weather stretches where I can’t, or don’t want to, get out hiking.  My intent is to have a number of hikes planned in advance, starting with the hike up Springer Mountain in Georgia.  I’m planning to have a 1-week plan for each section, as well as 2-week plans for upcoming sections.  In that manner, I can mix and match the plans to be adaptable to the amount of time I might have available to me when I’m able to take time off to hike the AT.

For these 1-week plans, I’ll be assuming a 9-day week, containing two weekends and a full work week in between.  Initially, I will be estimating a 15 mile day, but I’ll adjust that based on how campsite options present themselves in each section.  The benefit to living where I do and hiking the Whites is that I have probably the best training ground in the east.  Realistically, I reach almost any part of the AT from Hanover, NH to Mt Katahdin in approximately 3.5 hours or less.  Many thru-hikers feel that the Maine and New Hampshire sections are the hardest part of the trail and this is where I’m conditioning myself.  With that in mind, I think 15 miles a day will be a good starting point.  I know I can do 20 miles when I’m in decent condition and that will leave some flexibility for trail conditions and camping locations.

As for me, I’m ready to get out for another hike, but I don’t have time this weekend.  I have some family things going on and I also will be driving to Exeter, NH on Saturday to celebrate my completion of the New Hampshire 4000 footers with lots of other people who completed their list last year and many previous members of the club.  For those in the northeast who are interested in this achievement, you can visit for more information.

Where Am I Going?

Now that you know something about me and my hiking plans, I wanted to explain more about my blogging plans in this post.  Part of that is to give a bit more background on my hiking adventures to date and another part is to lay out my ideas for where this blog will be headed.  That isn’t to say that plans won’t change, but I at least have an initial plan of what I want to do and accomplish.

As I mentioned in my last post, I’m currently 47 years old.  As life progresses, the time available for fun activities dwindles as the day to day responsibilities of family, home, and career weigh you down.  In college, at a Division I school (and probably similar for Division II and III schools), playing a sport is close to the equivalent of a 24-30 hour a week job, and that’s before factoring in classes and homework.  It’s also a 12 month activity.  Playing baseball in college started with fall practices in September as soon as students arrived and continued into December when we stopped to prepare for finals and the holiday break.  We started again as soon as we returned from break and didn’t stop until the season ended in May (or hopefully June).  Once the season was over, we departed school to join a summer league and continue playing for the 2-3 months before we headed back to school and started the cycle again.

Then comes graduation.  For most of us, that means entry into the real world of adult life and responsibility.  The rare few that move on to big signing bonuses and huge paychecks in professional sports may be living in a real world, but it isn’t the same world the rest of us have to live in.  For me, this meant baseball was no longer a 12-month, 6 or 7 day a week activity, for the first time since middle school.

I also got married that summer.  The combination of all these things meant a massive change in my lifestyle and hence my activity level.  For a while this wasn’t bad.  I’ve been blessed with a fairly high metabolism rate, and combined with my activity levels through college, I used to consume more than 3000 calories per meal and only weighed 150 lbs.  Over the years, as most of us who have lived through it know, your metabolism slows down at various ages and mine was no different.

Over this winter I peaked at 242 lbs.  Over the past year there have been massive amounts of turnover at management levels above me, creating a shift in the culture at work which I haven’t been entirely pleased with.  All of this has been the basis for the “midlife crisis” I feel that I’m going through.  “Crisis” is probably too strong a word, but we can use the term for what it represents:  a need to make changes to one’s life to better it and make life happier and more fulfilling.

This crisis is what has driven me to commit to myself that I will start and attempt to accomplish the sequential section hiking of the Appalachian Trail, rather than just toying with the idea of it.  And as part of that commitment to a goal, I wanted to blog about my journey.  Not just the section hiking.  Lots of people blog about their actual hike and many of them are very interesting blogs.  I wanted to start blogging at, basically, the inception of the decision to hike the AT.

I have a desk job.  That’s one reason for my weight.  My work schedule is also typically heavier from December through March, making it difficult to get outdoors to do things.  Weather plays a part in it as well, as I don’t like to drive into the mountains on a snowy or icy day when wrecking the car would be far worse than not getting exercise.  I HATE using the gym.  I hate workout machines, weights, stair masters, and treadmills.  I can’t stand it and have never made it through two months utilizing a membership.  I can’t make myself do it.  This winter, I managed to get out and hike twice between December 1 and today.  It’s been a bad winter.

I plan to share my experiences and adventures getting myself into shape this year, reviewing and selecting gear that I will need to do my section hikes, and map out my itineraries for actually starting out at Springer Mountain sometime in spring of 2020.  I know I won’t be starting out with the early thru-hikers at the end of April, but initially I’m targeting sometime in mid-May, prior to Memorial Day.  That’s just a rough plan and there’s a lot to do before that becomes more concrete. So, I hope the premise of this blog interests you and I hope that my experiences will ultimately help others to make that decision and work on preparing for that great adventure that awaits us on the AT.

It’s All About Me

It is now the (early) spring of 2019.  I’ve passed my 47th birthday and statistically, at least, I’m on the second half of my life.  I’ve been hiking the White Mountains of New Hampshire regularly since 2011 and I finally finished my New Hampshire 4000 footer list last fall.

I’ve been toying with the idea of thru-hiking the AT for a few years now.  It’s a challenge I would love to undertake, but I also am a realist.  My career and household finances won’t allow that kind of a commitment.  Even a record setting 40 day thru-hike would not be feasible for work.  With those barriers to a thru-hike, I’ve come to the decision to section hike the trail, but with some self-imposed criteria.

My plan is to hike the trail from South to North, by sections, but in order, as if I thru-hiked.  This would give me the sequence of a thru-hiker on the trail, but allow for my “real life” commitments to be maintained.  Vacation time isn’t generally a problem for me.  I usually have a hard time taking it all each year and lose some.  The problem is the schedule and deadline responsibilities I have to maintain throughout the year.  As a section hiker, I can take a week or two to hike as my work schedule allows and then return a few weeks later where I left off.

I’m normally a pretty introverted and private person.  I often hike alone, after my wife’s knees progressed to the point of being unable to hike and requiring surgery.  One has been done and she’s at the point where she could return to easy/moderate hiking with that knee, if it weren’t for the other one causing pain and problems.  I’m happy hiking alone and many times I try to select trails which are less popular and are likely to have less traffic on them to enjoy nature and the sights and sounds that accompany the wilderness.  There are definitely benefits to hiking this way.

On a hike early last December, I was doing a snowshoe warmup to try to get into some semblance of shape before the real winter hiking season started.  I always have the best intentions of doing a lot of winter hiking, but inevitably I fail, whether it is from a heavy work schedule, family commitments, or weather conditions.  However, on this hike I started out shortly after a group of almost a dozen hikers.

The trail was fairly solid and pretty well packed after some early season snowfalls, but it still hadn’t consolidated much and bare booting or microspikes seemed to churn up the trail quite a bit, even if I didn’t punch through the surface.  With this in mind, I opted for snowshoes.  The group ahead of me had also chosen snowshoes and they were taking a while to find the proper pace for the group as well as selecting the right layer combinations for the temperature and the activity level.

We leapfrogged each other for a little while, but eventually I found a spot where the trail neared the brook which it ran parallel to for most of its length.  The brook had only partially frozen, primarily along the sides and around rocks in the occasional calm pool.  I just stopped and listened to the gurgling of the water over the rocks.  It was peaceful and quiet and it also allowed that group to gain some distance ahead of me so we weren’t constantly trying to pass each other in the soft snow to the side of the packed trail.

After a period of time listening and relaxing, but not so long that my body started to cool down too much, I began to move forward again.  A few minutes after continuing my hike, I caught a quick glimpse of movement out of the corner of my eye.  Not ten feet from me, ghosting over the top of the snow, was a pine marten.  The only reason I managed to catch his movement is that he was only about 75% covered in his white winter coat.  The tip of his tail was still very dark, and his back was a very light gray, but well on its way to being fully white.  He definitely seemed curious about me and my presence.  He was also brave enough for me to slowly pull my cell phone from my pocket and take his picture after he caught himself a nice mouse for breakfast.

Pine Marten with a Mouse

This is a prime example of why hiking alone provides some excellent experiences.  He never would have shown himself this close to the trail while the large group was going by and even the noise of a two or three person group is typically more than most wildlife wants to be around.  I was fortunate to see such an uncommon critter along the trail and really enjoyed my time watching him.

However, despite being introverted and a private person, I often find myself very chatty on the trail.  I seem to talk with other hikers more extensively and more often than I do with strangers in other areas of my life.  Maybe this is a sign that I should be more involved with hiking groups and hike with others more often, even if they aren’t close acquaintances.  The fact that I’m writing a blog about myself and my plans and experiences may be an indication that I’m not as introverted as I accuse myself of being, but instead just don’t find a connection with most people that makes me want to converse with them.

I also tend to be a very self-sacrificing person.  My wife will back me up on this, since she accuses me of sacrificing my own needs and wants far too often for the benefit of her and our daughter.  This includes both time and money.  However, I will freely admit that hiking the AT is entirely about me.  It’s something I want to do and I know that my wife, considering her knees, will be incapable of enduring that kind of activity for a week, let alone nearly 2,200 miles.  She has offered up ways that she can help support my efforts, such as driving me to a starting point and meeting me at various road crossings along the section and restocking food in this manner.

Since I hike in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, it’s obvious I at least live in the northeast.  Specifically, I live in southern Maine and have easy access to most of New Hampshire with a reasonable drive.  Hiking throughout the White Mountains, I believe I’ve hiked more than half of the New Hampshire portion of the AT already, but it doesn’t seem as if it’s been part of that ultimate goal.  The hikes are disjointed and, without that continuity, those sections of the AT have been just portions of those other various hikes utilizing a trail blazed in white instead of the usual blue or yellow blazes used in the White Mountains.

This is the crux of the goal and the methodology I plan to use to achieve it.  I want the continuity of the trail through this adventure, even if life won’t permit the continuity of time.

Now, this being my first post, it’s pretty clear where the “Hiking” part of the title comes from.  As for the “Center” part of the title, I could just stop and leave it to you, the reader, for interpretation.  There are hints above, but since this is an introduction of myself and the blog itself, and not some great literary novel where the author leaves lots of areas for interpretation and reflection about what he/she really meant when they wrote that memorable story, I’ll actually explain my choice of title.  There won’t be Cliff Notes for this, so I won’t make you think and ponder the meaning of life.

I’ve never been a yoga person, done meditation, or anything like that.  My stress relief has always been good, solid, physical activity.  I played two sports in high school (baseball and soccer) and continued baseball into college and beyond.  At least through my college years, no matter how stressful my days may have been, it never seemed to bother me, whether that was because of age or the endorphin generating exercise, I don’t really know for sure.  Even for the many years after graduation from college, whether it was continued baseball leagues, golf, or some other routine sporting activity, life seemed fine for me.  I was slow to anger, rarely did stress affect me, and I could handle the twists and turns of life without problem.

Now, I’m approaching my 14th anniversary at my current employer; I’ve been married to the same wonderful woman for almost 23 years, and we share the wonderful experience of raising our daughter who is almost 5.  However, for whatever reason, I find myself easily angered at things which never used to provoke me.  I sometimes dread going to work, even when there is nothing on my calendar to worry about and deadlines are suitably far in the future to allow the work needed to easily be completed.  I find myself much more frustrated with unplanned changes in schedules and problems disrupting my plans.  I feel it is time to shake things up in my life.

In the context of this blog, “Center” refers to a few things for me at this point:  (i) the center of my statistical lifespan (i.e. midlife); (ii) centering my spirit in the yoga, meditative, or religious sense; and (iii) placing hiking, and specifically this goal, near the center of my daily priorities.  I’ll clarify a bit about (iii) to say that my daily priorities will not ever exclude my family, which means I will continue to make a living and support them and continue to spend time and resources to make them happy and nurture them.  Hiking won’t ever take priority over that, as it just isn’t in my nature to abandon them, but I will be making the effort to put more “me” in my life and make it a priority. Now, as I look back, this turned into quite an introduction post and in my next (probably shorter) post I’ll explain my plans for this blog, at least to start with.