On the trail again

 

I think hiking might be one of my main writing themes. Certainly, it is one of my favorite pastimes. Yesterday, we went for a hike along a section of the Appalachian trail here in Maryland. It was really nice to be outside in the bright sunny spring weather, after a cold rainy weekend indoors. We hiked near Washington Monument State Park. This monument was the very first built to commemorate George Washington, completed in 1827 by the citizens of Boonsboro, Maryland. Here's a view of the Cumberland Valley from the monument -

We met several "thru hikers," obvious by their enormous backpacks; I always enjoy these conversations, learning insights about different lives in just a few amiable minutes. One guy was from Massachusetts and doing a ten day hike; another was from Australia and had started hiking a couple months back, only to receive word that his 92 year old mother was dying - he went home for seven weeks to be with her, and was just now back hiking the trail again. 

For today's slice, I've attempted a 'tritina' poem about our hike. (In a tritina, there are three stanzas of three lines each, with three end words repeated in varied order; there is one final line - an 'envoi' - which includes all three words in the single line.) 

brief hellos with strangers

we hike together, yet always, try as I might, I trail

my mind wanders with my feet, my thoughts rain

brief hellos with strangers leave me in a happy daze

one hiker, claiming low mileage for the days,

shared of crossing a wild, rushing stream on the trail

he was exhilarated by sun after three days of cold rain

a second hiker confided his mother’s death did reign

the recent weeks alongside her, now a gift all his days

with precious memories guiding him on the trail

rain or shine, there is joy to be found in days on the trail

___________________

It's Tuesday and I am participating in the

 Slice of Life.  

Thank you, Two Writing Teachers, for creating this supportive community 

of teacher-writers!

SOLSC 2022 #4 - Woodsy fun

It is March 2022 and time for the

 15th Annual Slice of Life Story Challenge  

Every single day, for all thirty-one days of March,

writers will share stories.

Thank you, Two Writing Teachers, for creating this supportive community 

of teacher-writers!

A Friday morning walk in the woods is one of our favorite habits since we both retired. It is such a gift to have so many beautiful nature paths so accessible. This morning, we were back in Rock Creek Park, on a rather cold but bright and sunny morning. We walked about three miles. Throughout our hike, there was recurrent, fun, sprightly background music of woodpeckers at work - what was it about this morning that got them so busy? Try as we liked, we never saw a woodpecker, we simply heard them. 

Do you see a woodpecker? There's one here somewhere!

How about a silly little poem to mark the day?

Woodpecker, woodpecker, where are you?

We hear you in the woods, but have no clue

Whack, thwack, peck, peck, that's what you do

Warbling wanderer with a whittling chew

Here are a few more photos from this morning's fun:

The year ends quietly

As this year draws to a close,
I am feeling the need for quiet contemplation, and very few words.
Today's slice is told through photos,

the family hike we enjoyed today:

___________________

It's Tuesday and I am participating in the

 Slice of Life.  

Thank you, Two Writing Teachers, for nurturing teacher-writers!

Outcroppings

There's this point near the end of most hikes where I really need a helicopter to appear, dropping a rope ladder directly into my hands, and instantaneously whisking me back to my car, without another moment of delay. I need to be OFF the trail, softly seated, feet up, with a refreshing cold drink in hand. Tony likes to say "the first immutable law of hiking is that for every downhill there is an uphill twice as long," but I claim there is at least one other enduring law - the hike will move instantaneously, without any foreshadowing, from feeling "perfect" (oh my, this is beautiful! oh my, what a great day to hike! oh my, I am having so much fun!) to pluperfect (as describe in Oxford Languages, "an action - in this case, hiking - completed prior to some past point of time specified or implied"). My gas simply runs out. The hike is over, past tense, completed, before it actually ends.

Perhaps it is this act of hiking while exhausted, past the point of comfort, having to dig deep into some invisible reserves, that adds to the feeling of accomplishment?

We recently hiked Sugarloaf Mountain, a small but beautiful, local mountain. The day was absolutely gorgeous, with cool fall temperatures, bright sunshine, lovely breezes - a day meant for hiking, and we really did enjoy the outing, despite my concluding sensations of needing it all to be over. In the end, we had hiked some eight miles, though the original plan had called for three or four - thus my fantasy of a helicopter arriving. 

Long before exhaustion hit, I enjoyed enjoyed enjoyed. I love how hiking requires your full attention, that you be alert to where you place your foot - is it root? rock? shifting sand? The terrain is constantly changing, always varied. My favorite patches involve hearing the echoing thunk of each footstep on the ground, as if I am all alone in the world (and oh so capable). I love the natural surrounds, and find myself absorbing all these minute details - the way trees bend, a sudden burst of orange or red, the shape of rocks. Perhaps most of all, I love how my mind wanders, thinking of so many different and unexpected things. 

Who lives here?

Wild mushrooms

Some parts of this hike were tricky - climbing over loose and shifting rocks, trying to wedge my foot in a tight crevice, bending and lifting myself up and over ridges. At times, it seemed my hips and knees were going in different directions, certainly separate directions from my mind. Always, always, always, just when I needed it most, there was a perfect rock waiting for me - wide, flat, steady, strong, beckoning, allowing me to rest, catch my breath, regain my footing. We had a refreshing snack while sitting on a beautiful outcropping, and felt energized for the rest of the hike. 

I've been blessed with friends like this through the years, friends who popped into my life by surprise just when I needed them,  rock steady and strong, letting me catch my breath, giving me much-needed perspective. These friends were often temporary, "passers-by," appearing at different phases of life and not necessarily in for the long journey - I'm thinking of former colleagues, dorm-mates,  "I'm a new Mom, too," and "oh, your child's at this school, too?" - you know, friends of a time. 

Yet, still very, very dear in my heart. 

I found myself remembering each of them on this last hike - their wisdom and insight, their reassuring ways. 

This, truly, is a gift of hiking - the memories tapped and released, to savor once more.

Tony & I at the summit

___________________

It's Tuesday and I am participating in the

 Slice of Life.  

Thank you, Two Writing Teachers, for nurturing teacher-writers!

Our Potomac river wonder

I am participating in the
Tuesday Slice of Life.
All participants are writing about one moment, one part of their day.

A big thank you to Two Writing Teachers for providing this unique opportunity
for teacher-writers to share and reflect.

At first
it is simply a walk,
a walk along the canal.
I move onto the trail,
and the hike begins.
I notice

the bright blue of a dragonfly, 

the quick scurry of a lizard,
a gentle, soft breeze,

the dappled light 
between the tree branches,
the echo of our footsteps 
on the soft dirt trail,

the river alongside,
so many of us together.

Soon, the air grows more still, and
my footing becomes less certain,
dirt to mud to sand to rocks,

strong, mighty, craggy rocks.

My movements are slow and sweaty,
as I work my way through 
sharp, angled crevices.

My eyes are glued on every step I take,
watching my footing,
on and between the rocks, 

a quick look up,
to follow the light blue blaze markings,
and immediately back down,
to find my footing,
along a narrow irregular rocky edge.

Oh,
feel,
it's cooler all of a sudden
what a beautiful overlook,
how high up I am,
above the river.

Hiking here is
focused,
rigorous work,

in loose gravel,

shifting sand,

odd footing, 

bend the torso,

lean in,
squat,
jump, 

wet and rocky,

stifling hot,

sun bearing down,
brace myself - on a tree, rock, something,
be alert,
to my hands,
my feet,
how I tilt my body,

avoiding the sharp brambles,
the muddy pools, 

noticing,
there's room for one foot only,

need to balance on the edge of rock,

maybe I'll take this part sitting,
then sliding,
need to step carefully, 

sweat is blurring my eyes,

push on,
push on,
push on.

I make my way
following the light blue blaze
and again notice

so much green, green, green,
a steady breeze,

the dark red brown needles of a dead pine tree

the murmur of cicadas,
the river alongside,
the chatter of hikers,

the path, once again,

clear and predictable.
I am back
walking
along the canal.

Accomplishment!

Oh, sweet trail,
your rugged terrain,
surprising rocks,
extraordinary views,
make me think
mountain,
make me think
faraway,
make me think
journey.
The only thing that
reveals
you are 
our Potomac river wonder 
are the crowds,
in front of me,
behind me,
all around me,
everyone adoring
hiking you,
the Billy Goat Trail, 
on the weekend
in Washington, DC.

The Billy Goat Trail is located in Great Falls, Maryland, along the Potomac River, in the Washington, D.C. area.