Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from an indomitable will.
— Mahatma Ghandi
The Midstate Trail lay fallow (at least from our feet being planted there) all summer. Now we’re in a relative cool spell where Waldo and I can find a 3-hour period that isn’t too hot to trek on its hilly, root-and-rock filled, meandering paths. An added bonus: Phyllis has found a window of opportunity in her busy schedule and she’s coming with us! The plan is to start where we left off, just outside of Rutland, MA, and continue southish for 6 miles to a place where we can leave our car, north and east of Spencer, MA.
We meet at the dropoff point and take Phyllis’s car back to where we start. The temperature is in the mid-60s, the sky is mostly clear and the ground is dry. Our pantlegs are tucked into our socks and our exposed skin is lathered in insect repellant. We cross Rte 122 and take up the dirt path that plunges deep into woods. The trail is mildly hilly, rough, filled with the expected roots and rocks, narrow and recognizable mainly from the crushed leaves underfoot. Off trail is also full of leaves, but they are, more or less, intact. The usual oaks, maples and birches, with occasional white pine, here and there, surround us on all sides. They are all small-bole trees, less than 100 years old. Weeds of various kinds grow high next to and, all too often, over where we have to walk. Waldo is loving the near-bushwhacking and is up ahead at the extreme front end of his leash, pulling us eagerly forward.
It’s been a long while since Phyllis has joined us and she hasn’t been doing a lot of walking. She’s also complaining of a little knee pain, which, she says, happens to her sometimes. This makes the going a little slower than what Waldo and I are used to, but it gives Phyllis and I lots of time to talk. We have texted and talked over the phone this summer, but now we are each other’s captive audience and we use the time to fill in the details of what’s been going on.
Phyllis took a canoe trip up into Canada and spent a couple of weeks camping on the shores of Reindeer Lake. There are no roads into the area and they had to fly in on a float plane. Unfortunately, that was also near where all the fires were burning in the middle of Canada. They could see the smoke in the sky, but they were never in any great danger and had a great time. She also fills me in on how things are going with her new boyfriend – things are going well in that department. Of course, I tell her about what’s been happening with Waldo and me, most of which you know if you’ve been following this blog. Anyway, my attention is split between our conversation and keeping an eye on my footing and I haven’t been on the lookout for trail markers.
The trail is well marked with the plastic Midstate yellow triangles at places where they’re needed. Even so, after a couple of miles, I look down at the AllTrails map on my phone and see that we have, somehow, wandered off trail. We will have to backtrack a good ways to get to the place where we went astray.
“Oops,” I tell Phyllis. “We wandered off trail a bit.”
“Are you sure?” she asks, with a hint of disappointment in her voice.
“I’m sure.”
“How far?”
“A ways.” That’s always a satisfying answer to that question, isn’t it?
We turn around and have to hike back a good 3/8 of a mile to get back on trail. Sigh. This is something that has happened to us a lot in the past and is bothersome only because it adds to the total distance (in this case ¾ of a mile). But Phyllis is having a bit of a hard time and the added distance is not welcome. Still, she’s a good sport and takes the bit in her teeth and doesn’t whine about it. We find where we erred and it’s clearly marked. Oops.
Up and down some more small hills and we come to a large pond. I’m surprised (but pleased), because there is no low-lying swampy area nearby. The entire hike has been in dense woods, something that is unusual, but welcome. There is some evidence, and a sign here and there, of logging going on, something that we don’t like, of course. A walk in the woods is just not the same if you cut down some of the trees.
After the expected, “How far do we have yet to go?” with the only acceptable response, regardless of the true distance, “A mile or two,” and we are at the Waldo-car. We passed no one on this leg of the trail. A bit sweaty and fatigued, we settle into the car seats and head back to Phyllis’s car.
“I’m sore and my knee hurts more, but I’m awfully glad we did this,” says Phyllis.
“And we are so happy to have you back with us,” I say. “I just hope that your knee heals enough so we can do this again, without making it worse.”
“I’ll be fine, but I am going on another trip next Friday…”
“Of course, you are. But there’ll be other opportunities to walk with Waldo and me in the woods. There always are.”
“Until next time, then,” says Phyllis.
“Until next time,” I reply.
Waldo wags his tail.
Phyllis gets into her car and heads home. Waldo and I head back to balcony and recliner. Another 6 miles (6.75 with the added detour), with 551 feet of elevation gain, toward our ultimate goal. It did take us 4 hrs and 5 min, which is a long time for the distance we walked, but the company was excellent.
Now I have to plan out our next leg of the journey.