A beautiful, if strenuous , walk in the woods.
Even great men bow before the sun; it melts hubris into humility.
— Dejan Stojanovic
The weather has been clear and warm enough that I’m pretty sure there’s no snow in the mountains of New Hampshire, where the Midstate Trail begins. It’s been dry for the past few days, so the ground should be fairly solid and not too muddy, except in the low places. There’s only a short window of opportunity where Waldo and I can go hiking because it’s going to get too hot in the not-too-distant future. So I’ve decided we should go today.
The Midstate Trail is about 100 miles long and runs down the middle of Massachusetts, hence the name. There are some mountains to be climbed along the way, starting at the trailhead in New Hampshire, not far from the border with Massachusetts. The trail is often way off in the boonies, so there aren’t many places where it crosses roads where I might park. The next spot, after the trailhead, where I can park is 9 miles from the start. I couldn’t get anyone to go with us so Waldo and I are going to have to do a couple of 4.5-mile walks on separate days – 9 miles each in total. Now that’s not a lot for us, by any means, but the elevation gain will be around 1,400 feet. We’ve been mostly walking out on the flat, so that is likely to be a big deal. It’s a bit intimidating. I expect it to be hard, but that never stopped Waldo and I and it won’t now.
It takes us an hour and a half to drive to our launching point. I park the car and Waldo and I step out onto the dirt road that is the Wapack Trail (at this point, the trail goes by that name as well as the Midstate Trail). Within less than 0.1 miles, the road morphs into an old stage coach road, where no vehicles are allowed. The way is broad and fairly flat, so the going is easy.
The temperature is about 48℉, so I’m wearing a light jacket. The sky is partly cloudy, so there are periods when it’s nice and warm, and periods when I’m glad I brought the coat. Here and there are some muddy patches, but they are easy to navigate around and the rest of the ground is solid and dry. There is no snow or ice around. Because there are no bikes around (they are prohibited) Waldo is feeling confident and takes the lead at the forward end of the leash. After just under a mile, the trail turns left and passes under some high-tension power lines. Then the climb begins.
The slope is not terribly steep, but it’s a lot of work for my old muscles. I have to slow my pace way down to keep from running out of breath and I have to stop frequently to rest my poor legs. I soon work up a pretty good sweat. The coat comes off and I tie it around my waist. Waldo is patient with me and stops when I do, without much fuss. But, then, he has a lot of experience walking with me. Like, his whole life.
Step by step, we slowly climb Barret’s Mountain, the first of 3 mountains on today’s hike. The trail runs along a ridge that connects those mountains and causes the ridge to have an undulating profile. So far, we’ve gone around 2 miles and gained about 500 feet in elevation, most of that in the last mile. I’m tired already and that does not bode well. Waldo is having a great time and isn’t bothered by the effort at all. But, then, he is quite a bit younger than I am.
At the top, I turn around and look out over the panorama of southern New Hampshire. There aren’t any sizeable cities out here, so what I see is a lot of green rolling hills. There are some winter-denuded deciduous trees on the mountain around us and a lot of spruce. These mountains, in the fall, are covered with the most gorgeous red, yellow and orange foliage, but that’s all gone now. Still, the forested ground around us is beautiful. We head down the saddle that leads to the next mountain to climb – New Ipswich Mountain.
The top of New Ipswich Mountain is a little barer than Barret’s Mountain and I can see off to the west a bit better. There, just a few miles away, is Mount Monadnock, a mountain I trained on in preparation for climbing Kilimanjaro, about 16 years ago. It’s about twice as high as these mountains, quite steep in places, and full of huge boulders. So far, the climbing here is steep enough to make me work very hard, but not so steep I can’t do it in a walk, although it is a very slow walk. Waldo takes it all in stride. That would not be true on Monadnock. He would never be able to climb over the boulders.
We make it to the top of Stony Top and continue on down to the saddle to the next mountain, Pratt Mountain. We turn around at the bottom of the saddle, right where my phone says we’ve gone 4.5 miles. We have climbed 904 ft in total elevation gain and I am spent. I turn around and look where we have come. Damn, we have to repeat all that to get back to the car.
By this time, my legs are very sore because I’m using muscles I haven’t used much in years. I plod along the way we just came, stopping frequently and sit down whenever a likely-looking stump or boulder presents itself. I’m sweating profusely. Waldo is patient and comes over and lies down next to me as I gather the strength to keep on truckin’. I am so tired and fatigued that I fall into a near trance-like state and my walking becomes instinctual. I put one foot in front of the other, barely lifting each step above the ground, in a shuffle that’s not much more than a crawl.
Finally, we make it back to the stage coach road and the ground becomes flatter and more even, without the roots and rocks of the mountains. I’m able to recover a bit more and pick up the pace a bit. Still, I don’t think I’ve ever been closer to the limit of what I can do without having to stop in complete exhaustion. I sit down in the car when we get there and I’m overwhelmed by a sense of relief – albeit a painful one. Waldo curls up in the passenger seat and chills. It seems border collie energy can be burnt off, even if for only a little while.
An hour and a half later and we’re back home, drinking water, eating dinner and relaxing. Even though taxing, it’s been a good hike. Maybe it was a bit much to bite off on the first mountain hike of the season, but we did it. Now we just have to repeat it again, after a few days of rest.
I’ve learned that shear grit can take me a long way.
And then propel me right to my recliner.
Mount Monadnock, in the distance