01/28/24
Embarking on a solo hiking expedition today marked a poignant realization of solitude. Despite my earnest pleas for my companion to join me, the camaraderie we once shared exploring diverse places around the state and beyond now feels like a distant memory. Our past adventures, filled with awe-inspiring moments, created a bond that few people are fortunate to experience. Yet, here I am, beseeching them to accompany me on a mere hour-long walk, only to face the cold reality of rejection.
Undeterred, I set out alone, guided by the comprehensive AllTrails app. Initially traversing a seemingly nondescript dirt road, I questioned the presence of an actual trail. The passage of families accentuated my isolation, and reflections on the slim likelihood of having a family of my own added a bitter tinge to the experience. Internet references indicated this land’s past as farmland a century ago, with traces potentially submerged by the creation of the Hartwell dam? The mention of a WPA-built dam in the 1930s sparked contemplation on the transformative impact of government initiatives during the Great Depression, shaping the very landscapes I now wander. Yet I did not find the dam shown in the photos online.
Transitioning from the road to a biking path, I cautiously navigated, wary of an impending cyclist. For if I let my guard down I knew I’d be roadkill. The app led me to a sign in the forest, marking the site of ancient farm homes. Although only rocks and mounds remained, the ability to discern historical habitation through tree species fascinated me, for this sign spoke of just that. That the farmers had shaped the landscape a century ago, by intentionally planting trees that do not naturally grow in this area. A glimmer of a lake in the distance prompted a detour. contemplating the absence of my once inseparable companion against the serene backdrop of the lake was quite depressing, to say the least. I don’t know how long I sat there but It seemed like there wasn’t anyone around for miles and miles.
Deepening into the forest, the scarcity of fellow hikers puzzled me, given the initial crowded parking area. Perhaps, I pondered, others explored more challenging, multi-day trails. Thoughts of undertaking such expeditions ignited a spark of aspiration within me. Along the lakeside trail, diverse bird species teased my simple camera, revealing a missed opportunity without a zoom lens.
Encountering the remnants of an ancient car heightened the mystique of the forest’s origins, prompting contemplation on the possibility of its deliberate creation. How did it get here? I wondered if this was in fact a bumper to some ancient car from nearly a hundred years past. A chance encounter with joggers disrupted my solitude, emphasizing the unexpected blend of isolation and shared space within the forest and shaking me out of my thoughts and inspection of this odd metal piece sitting way out here.
Approaching dilapidated camping areas, I envisioned the allure of camping amidst such natural beauty. I had never camped anywhere other than actual campgrounds in the past. It would be fun and exciting to stay on a trial perhaps, not to mention more challenging as well. The sun’s descent signaled my return, having covered nearly five miles, a considerable achievement after a hiatus from longer hikes for many years now. Determined to maintain a moderate difficulty and distance regimen, I have begun plans for future explorations of state parks and historic locales in the near future.
As the wind whispered through the swaying trees, providing a comforting melody, I found solace in the solitude and the soothing sounds of nature. Despite the emotional turmoil stemming from the treatment received from a once cherished companion, the rhythm of the forest offered a balm for my wounded spirit. I was quite glad I had come as I got back into my car to head home.
