We Long for Happy Feet

Thank you, Bodie!

We long to let our feet fly along naked paths again, like this one in Barnstable on Cape Cod.

Good morning.

It’s one of those rare days when I awakened fully alert at 3 am. The last time this occurred was in January when we were in Washington, DC. It led to that unforgettable leashless walk around the monuments and our extended visit to the Lincoln Memorial.

I tend not to fight these things, believing I must be awake for a reason. The haunting DC trek, through a city so still, even of traffic, is proof enough for me.

When I woke up three days ago, it was at a more reasonable hour, and I felt charged with excitement for the first time in quite a while. It was finally December, and our trip was now close enough to feel the buzz of final preparations while tightening our schedule. From that point on, every day was to be purposeful because there was much to do, and the countdown had begun.

Four hours later, struggling once again through pre-Thanksgiving snow that has refused to melt and has gone through cycles of mush and ankle-twisting rock-hard ice divets, we decided to move our departure to Christmas Day.

The reason? I long to let my body sing, to flow easily along hiking trails and beaches. The two-month stretch from the last-fallen maple leaf until Christmas is pure enchantment here in the Mount Washington Valley. Crowds are gone, weekenders, too, and the forest feels intimate once again. Rarely does snow before Christmas stick around, as this has. And it allows us to up our mileage in training for what’s to come.

But the spell of rustic peace is fleeting. Once the more affluent ski crowds return to the hills, all enchantment is lost for us. I even felt the manic intensity of aggressive and rude Massachusetts drivers yesterday. We quickly returned home, remembering why we escape when we do.

Our upcoming roving is especially needed in 2023; due to the marathon, wet, humid, and bug-crazed summer and a month of late-spring heart turmoil brought about by a nasty reaction to the Shingrix vaccine, we never reached a sustainable hiking rhythm.

After averaging ten minutes slower per mile in the recent conditions, the worst being December 1, I just decided it’s time to get our groove back!

If there wasn’t much to get in order and I could afford it, I would have moved our trip up even earlier.