Franchesca Ferrera (partner alias number 1), Sasha, Ranger and I joined up with FF's family for one last trip into the White Mountains of New Hampshire before leaving Massachusetts at the end of May. It was a chance to take a breath before the final two weeks of manic packing and goodbyes. The trip also served as a fitting bookend to my last four years in the Northeast.
I first ventured into the White Mountains a year before I even moved to Boston. Flying up from Atlanta, I did the Presidential Traverse with Franchesa and her parents. Almost all of the trails in the White Mountains look like a heart ECG under arrest, and this one was no different. We spent three days climbing up and down peaks named after various powdered wig wearers. I followed my usual hiking gate where I plod uphill huffing and heaving, then blast downhill skipping from rock to rock, knee ligaments be damned.
Turns out those ligaments eventually do be damned. In this last venture into the Whites, I noticed a few more aches and pains. A few years and a few pounds had altered my ability to careen down hills without a care in the world. No injuries or lingering pain of note, but I noticed body parts that had been completely benign in years past.
Despite that bodily degradation, Franchesca and I had a wonderful 9 mile hike up and across the Franconia ridge. Being on a random Monday in mud season (the down time before all the snow melts and neither skiing or hiking in the Whites is ideal), we barely saw another soul (human or canine). This is always a treat for us, because Sasha (who will likely be discussed frequently over the summer) is reactive due to some abuse before she landed with us. When she gets to roam carefree, the human temperaments follow suite.
Prior to this last hike, we also made sure to hit up Polly's Pancake Parlor. During one of our previous trips, I had to miss out on Polly's because I tried to work while on the trip. My job at a tech company can certainly put the pressure on, and I struggle to sometimes separate that stress from life at hand. So a couple of years ago, I had to scurry back to the Wifi-enabled cabin when the wait at Polly's got too long. I spent the rest of the day feeling left out and overwhelmed by the work I couldn't put off for pancakes and peaks.
This time around (at the precipice of a 5 month long work hiatus), we rose early and ready, making sure we were 2 of the first customers. We chowed through oatmeal buttermilk, gingerbread, and classic cakes loaded with nuts, maple whipped cream, and butter. I leaned back in my chair, full of fuel for the day's hike, and noticed how much calmer my thoughts were. I could be in this place and this time, fully present. I knew the trip ahead would hold it's own stresses, but after four years in the Boston tech rat race, I was feeling as light and fluffy as the batter in my belly.
So here I am, ready to embark on another journey. I feel incredibly blessed to be able to take this adventure and can't wait for what's in store. The knee joints are a little achier, but the mind is a little calmer than the past couple years. Incredible people are around the corner and in the rearview. The open road awaits.
I first ventured into the White Mountains a year before I even moved to Boston. Flying up from Atlanta, I did the Presidential Traverse with Franchesa and her parents. Almost all of the trails in the White Mountains look like a heart ECG under arrest, and this one was no different. We spent three days climbing up and down peaks named after various powdered wig wearers. I followed my usual hiking gate where I plod uphill huffing and heaving, then blast downhill skipping from rock to rock, knee ligaments be damned.
Turns out those ligaments eventually do be damned. In this last venture into the Whites, I noticed a few more aches and pains. A few years and a few pounds had altered my ability to careen down hills without a care in the world. No injuries or lingering pain of note, but I noticed body parts that had been completely benign in years past.
Despite that bodily degradation, Franchesca and I had a wonderful 9 mile hike up and across the Franconia ridge. Being on a random Monday in mud season (the down time before all the snow melts and neither skiing or hiking in the Whites is ideal), we barely saw another soul (human or canine). This is always a treat for us, because Sasha (who will likely be discussed frequently over the summer) is reactive due to some abuse before she landed with us. When she gets to roam carefree, the human temperaments follow suite.
Prior to this last hike, we also made sure to hit up Polly's Pancake Parlor. During one of our previous trips, I had to miss out on Polly's because I tried to work while on the trip. My job at a tech company can certainly put the pressure on, and I struggle to sometimes separate that stress from life at hand. So a couple of years ago, I had to scurry back to the Wifi-enabled cabin when the wait at Polly's got too long. I spent the rest of the day feeling left out and overwhelmed by the work I couldn't put off for pancakes and peaks.
This time around (at the precipice of a 5 month long work hiatus), we rose early and ready, making sure we were 2 of the first customers. We chowed through oatmeal buttermilk, gingerbread, and classic cakes loaded with nuts, maple whipped cream, and butter. I leaned back in my chair, full of fuel for the day's hike, and noticed how much calmer my thoughts were. I could be in this place and this time, fully present. I knew the trip ahead would hold it's own stresses, but after four years in the Boston tech rat race, I was feeling as light and fluffy as the batter in my belly.
So here I am, ready to embark on another journey. I feel incredibly blessed to be able to take this adventure and can't wait for what's in store. The knee joints are a little achier, but the mind is a little calmer than the past couple years. Incredible people are around the corner and in the rearview. The open road awaits.