Tales From The Trail

I'm not six pack fit, a guy that works out everyday. I do some good walking throughout the week and tend bar. I still work 40 plus hours a week and grind away to steal the time I can to walk around Fresh Pond in Cambridge, sit in a coffee shop and write, jump in the car and head to a mountain to move my damn feet. That's like many of us. I'm lucky. I can steal months at a time to hike, but we all can create some opportunities if we are willing to find the time.

The tree line grows smaller. The trail goes from roots, dirt and moss to large boulder rock. The mountain top balds are appearing in front of me. My feet march. My calves burn. My feet are tender. I feel at my best. When I mount the summit, I stop.

My phrase is heard and lived throughout this rebirth: “Hike the Good Hike”. It echoes as I write this. I watch the humming birds feed just outside the porch. I listen to the Avett Brothers sing of the ups and downs of life. My head rests on the pillow, head back, eyes closed. I’m taking it all in. I’ve been here before…..