by Mary Padilla
You need to pay attention. If you lose your way, there is a real danger that you may not be able to find it again. People have gotten lost and died here, not even very far off the trail.
Keep the blazes in sight at all times. One stroke means straight ahead, roughly speaking. Two indicates a change of direction. Try not to lose sight of the last one until you find the next, or else keep one person at the first within earshot while you scout around for the second. (Never do this hike alone.)
The marks can be on trees or rocks, often quite far apart. A vertical pile of rocks is a cairn, which also indicates a turn. A change in blaze color means that a different path is crossing yours. Follow your own color to stay on your path.
You must reach the hut while there is still light. Dusk comes early in the mountains, as the surrounding peaks block the setting sun while it is still well above the horizon. Footing is treacherous in partial light, and bears are more likely to be out and about then. Their vision is poor, but their sense of smell is just as keen in the dark. Moose can be a problem too, especially if you can’t see them coming. At least until the moon rises, you must find some secure shelter before night falls.
This was Hansel and Gretel territory. It was also the Appalachian Trail, albeit the rather gentrified segment of it in New Hampshire’s White Mountains, where the Appalachian Mountain Club maintained eight huts a day hike apart so you didn’t need to carry a tent, sleeping bag, and food on your back. My 10-year-old and I had come to hike the circuit.
The first day we were careful to follow the instructions. It wasn’t always easy, as the marks were surprisingly subtle, small, at varying heights, and unexpectedly far apart. They weren’t exactly breadcrumbs, but this wasn’t going to be a walk in the park either. After spending the whole day on the trail we made it to the first hut while it was still daylight, and after dinner went to bed early, exhausted by our efforts.
The second day was more of the same, but conducted with somewhat less trepidation. We were getting better at knowing what to look for and sensing where to put our feet on the ground without constantly looking down. By day three we were becoming confident about locating the marks and finding our balance scrambling across the downed branches, boulders, loose rock, and streams that crossed our path.
It was midday on day four before I realized that we had been negotiating the trail all morning without trying, having settled into the forest, unconsciously reading the blazes and managing the terrain as we went. From then on we stayed in tune with the trail, until our descent back to civilization at the end of day eight. It was a return to a different world.
Thirty years later we went back and did it again. This time there was no moment of transition – the woods were within us from the beginning.
Mary Padilla: I write to see what will come out.