Backpacking

Hundreds of acres of state forest surround our tiny home. I spent years trying to upgrade my life, but I think God knew we would need this place. The forest, the river, our neighbors, the wide open spaces, and the endless trails have been a refuge from the world at times. I am content here, and I am grateful to call this place home.

There is a familiar trail that circles our property. I must have walked it a thousand times. I’ve walked it with littles, and now teenagers. I’ve walked it in moments of joy, and with tears in my eyes. I’ve walked it with two separate dogs, and once with a chicken in my arms. I’ve walked it in the cool shade of spring, and in the blistering summer heat; with the crunch of leaves beneath my feet in autumn, and with snowshoes strapped to my boots in winter. I’ve seen her in all her beauty, and she’s seen me. It’s been nearly 18 years, and in some ways, I grew up here.

At the top of the hill about halfway through, there is a sit spot. A humble, simple bench that someone built between two trees overlooking the reservoir. One day, as I paused to observe my surroundings, a slender man came barreling up the hill. It was a little unusual, as I don’t often bump into people on this trail. I could see he had a water bottle with a filter attached, prepared to collect drinking water from the nearby lake and streams. He was going some distance. “How far are you going today?” I asked. “As far as I can.” He stopped to catch his breath. This particular trail connects with others, and one could hike for miles and miles. “Good for you! Are you training for something?”

“Life,” he said. “I’m training for life.” And off he dashed down the trail.

Those words were so profound and spoke clear to my soul. In many ways, the trail has been my church. I’ve worked out many things in my mind, body and spirit on the trail. The woods become a sanctuary. The birds and wildlife our companions. It offers a respite from the world; an opportunity to unplug. A chance to pay attention. In so many ways, the forest heals.

For years, I had wanted to backpack. I am inspired by minimalist living, and there is just something so empowering about carrying everything you need to survive for a few days in a pack that becomes an extension of yourself. I spent hours online watching videos, learning everything I needed to know about living in the woods for a few days.

I knew I wasn’t prepared enough to go into the woods alone, so I signed up for a beginner backpacking trip with the Appalachian Mountain Club in West Virginia, the closest I could find. I rented some gear online, and in August of 2020, during Covid, with masks on, I spent my first night out in the wilderness. I was hooked.

I was hooked, but I didn’t have any female friends who shared my enthusiasm for backpacking. Then, a few months later, to my surprise and delight, a friend of mine asked me if I wanted to hike the Appalachian Trail that runs through Connecticut. We were both completely inexperienced, so I agreed to go after some careful planning. We found a few more friends to join us on our crazy adventure, and that spring we hiked most of the CT section. We came back to finish it and then did three more trips tackling the Massachusetts section. With two states and about 140 miles under our feet, we’re staring down Vermont or New York in the fall.

Here are a few pictures from our latest trip to MA just a few weeks ago. If you’re local and interested in learning to backpack, I saw this Introduction to Backpacking course that I wish was available a few years ago.