"Life is Too Much Like a Pathless Wood"

"So was I once myself a swinger of birches,

and so I dream of going back to be...

One could do worse than to be a swinger of birches."

I wish I had my own words to describe what it was like walking the autumnal roads of New Hampshire. But it feels to me like Robert Frost took all the good ones. I saw a line of bowing birches, glowing white against a firey backdrop of red and orange leaves, and could only think of his poem "Birches." And then of course, many roads diverged and I always tried to take the one less traveled...but let's not get cliche.

I also wish I had my own motivations for going into the woods, but Thoreau has already spoken them. To live deliberately, to suck the marrow out of life, and not, when I had come to die, find that I had not truly lived. I did go into the woods to be intentional, and to experience the fullness of life that only Jesus can afford. I set off to go "camping with Jesus" (as I came to call it in the weeks leading up to the trip).

Still I mention these men because my appreciation of their writing has produced in me an intense desire to see New England in the fall. So I was very blessed to be given an opportunity to fulfill this dream a couple weeks ago. It was beautiful and, well...Fall-like, for lack of a better term...and that alone should have been enough for a northerner stranded in Texas. I walked New England just a stone's throw away from Frost's birthplace in Salem and Thoreau's Walden Pond. I flew into Manchester and hiked out to spend some spiritual time with God.

But as my wife wittily and succinctly put it, the weekend turned out to be "more about commuting than communing."

I fear I might not be taken seriously if I do not post some screen captures associated with the trip, so I include here some information taken from Mapquest and Weather Underground.

This map is the closest I could get to the route that I took. Points A and F represent the Manchester airport. With a 25 pack on my back I hiked out of the airport, north of Manchester, over Massabesic Lake...and then realized that I SERIOUSLY underestimated the toll that walking for hours on end with a backpack would have on my body. The plus side was that I avoided being sprayed by a skunk I nearly walked into . I ended my four hour trek on Friday by passing out in a pathetically constructed bivouac in a wooded area between two houses. It was then that my goal of reaching Bear Brook State Park in four hours (at least taking the route I chose) seemed very silly and...well, impossible.

I know it's hard to believe, but this majestic this chupa did not keep me entirely dry through the rainy night. As the weather chart shows, it was warm enough to not be a huge deal, but it was great preparation for the following evening.

(As a point of comparison, here's Keller's weather--about as great as Texas fall weather can be.)

I woke up the next morning (wet enough and cold enough to abondon sleeping) and started hiking again at 5 am. It turned out, by around 7 am (whilst darkness still covered the land) that I had walked far off my intended course and would spend most of the day doubling back to get to the state park. Once again, by day's end I was exhausted and sore, but I had made it to the most south-westerly corner of the state park. Concentration on prayer, reading, meditation...yeah, it was nearly impossible. I set up a slightly better shelter in preparation for what I was anticipating to be a gold night. It was better, but I still woke up every few hours to rewarm myself. On one early waking, I poked my head out to see two wild turkeys running by.

The following morning I actually enjoyed the first few hours of hiking. It was clear, cold and beautiful. I was able to focus a bit more, and enjoyed worshipping on the banks of a steaming pond. However, as the map shows, there was a long way to go to reach the airport. I walked for hours, made it by mid-afternoon and started my trip home (I did get stuck in St. Louis and slept in the airport overnight).

The trip analysis shows it should have taken just over an hour driving, but the walk took nearly 15 hours total. A conservative estimate puts the total distance at 43 miles.

As the account no doubt shows, the trip, while fantastic was quite taxing and not exactly what I intended. Still, I'm glad I did it. I have additional pictures, but as this evening is continuing on I'm becoming increasingly tired. So I'll wrap it up, perhaps without satisfactorily complete my account of the trip. Apparently, that's the story of my life.