Living color

November 2, 2024November 2, 2024 / Ellen Kolb

This been a magnificent autumn in New Hampshire, and I’ve tried to make the most of it. Even now, with the foliage faded and fallen, I love the season. There’s no better time for a walk on a New Hampshire trail, whether it’s a ten-minute respite from the day’s work or a full day on a long trail.

Two views of Mt. Kearsarge

From Oak Hill in Concord, Mt. Kearsarge is a hazy double summit (at left). Photos by Ellen Kolb.

One afternoon in early October, I headed to Concord’s Oak Hill trails. I should’ve known what to expect: I-93 southbound was jammed with leafpeepers coming home from the North Country, where foliage at that time was at its most colorful. I figured Oak Hill, with colors just beginning to change in the Concord area, would be quiet. Nope: I had to squeeze my little car into about three-quarters of a space in the Shaker Road lot. I knew right away that the path to the fire tower would be busy, and I wanted some solitude. Fortunately, Oak Hill offers several miles of paths from which to choose. I went to an old favorite – a little ledge with a bench and a nice view toward the west featuring Mt. Kearsarge’s distinctive gentle profile.

Three weeks later, autumn in south-central New Hampshire was in its glory. The Craney Hill fire tower in Henniker, which is decommissioned and usually closed to the public, was going to be open for a day or two. I learned about the opportunity only a day in advance, and I wasn’t about to miss it. Weather was perfect. The drive to Henniker along Route 114 was the stuff of picture postcards. From the cab of the tower itself, the region’s foliage stretched out for miles – and there to the north was Mt. Kearsarge again, layered in colors, topped with the evergreens that reach almost to the summit ledge.

I think the town of Henniker has custody of the Craney Hill tower, and the once-a-year public accessibility relies on volunteers and support from visitors.

A change of plan

As I reported earlier, I had planned to join a group of supporters of the Light of Life shelter in Manchester for a 13-mile walk on the Rockingham Recreational Trail. Unfortunately, due to circumstances beyond my control, the event had to be cancelled. I decided to walk the 13 miles anyway, on a modified route. Four hours-plus on that familiar trail in foliage season? Yes, please. Besides, a generous donor to Light of Life had sponsored me.

The trail goes by Onway Lake in Raymond. The woods surrounding the lake provided a fine payoff to a long morning’s work.

autumn foliage reflected in a lake in New Hampshire — _{Onway Lake mirrored the foliage on an October morning.}

And here’s the track my GPS app made of my walk through Candia and Raymond, out and back.

I managed to spend nearly five hours on the way because I dawdled at Raymond Depot, where I found an open house being held by the local historical society, and I also stopped at the one and only Dunks along the way for some caffeinated refreshment. Every minute of the day was a gift.

Postscript to summer

Here’s the long-awaited coda to my efforts in August and September to complete the Cross New Hampshire Adventure trail: I finally got the job done, in spite of the pesky osprey that tried to discourage me. Neither birds nor ballast nor lack of money for shuttles could keep me from exploring XNHAT from end to end. The trail attracts bicyclists from near and far, but I was happy to walk, even though it meant walking each segment out-and-back. (I’d gladly do the Pondicherry section out-and-back anytime.) For the finale in Shelburne and Bethel, my wonderful husband served as my shuttle driver. He patiently rode his bike while I paced off the last few miles.

I just might dedicate a long post to the whole darn trail someday. It’s a treasure. I am sporting the finisher’s patch on my fleece jacket, not sticking it in a scrapbook with my other hiking patches. This one is going public so that people will ask me about it, which will give me a chance to tell them about the trail.

_{The Granite State Walker is a big fan of XNHAT.}

Fall’s first half

November 1, 2023November 1, 2023 / Ellen Kolb

My autumn began with a trip upstate as the leaves began turning. As October ends, I’m near the Massachusetts border, where red and orange foliage has yielded to gold and bronze. The sunlight through the leaves these days creates a glowing aura around everything.

First stop: North Country

Three days on the Ammonoosuc and Presidential trails in early fall added up to 30 miles of walking for me, punctuated with unexpected meetings. Amazing, the encounters I’ve had walking through New Hampshire.

The Ammonoosuc trail follows – you guessed it – the Ammonoosuc River. While checking out the three newest miles of the trail east of Littleton, I met a couple I know from the NH Rail Trail Coalition. We were pleased to see that the new section, between Cottage Street and Oxbow Drive, has a great surface that will be especially helpful to anyone biking the Cross New Hampshire Adventure Trail. The following day, I met up with yet another NHRTC colleague while on a gravelly Ammonoosuc stretch between Lisbon and Bath. That surface is in the process of being upgraded from gravel to a smoother crushed stone. Can’t happen soon enough, as far as I’m concerned. My feet took a bit of a beating that day. I gave them a rest as I ate my lunch under the picturesque Bath covered bridge.

Ammonoosuc River in Littleton NH. All photos by Ellen Kolb/Granite State Walker.

I was in the Pondicherry Wildlife Refuge a few months ago, when Joe-Pye weed and Queen Anne’s lace were blooming all along the Presidential rail trail. When I returned in early fall, nearly all the blossoms were gone, except for a couple of hardy little asters holding out against the equinox. Milkweed pods had burst and left their seeds floating across Moorhen Marsh. Frost had nipped the north country and its mosquitoes, making the walk to Cherry Pond even more pleasant than usual. My last view of the pond had been when it was covered with water lilies. This time, the pond was a mirror for Mt. Starr King and the Pliny Range.

If I were to search this blog’s sixteen years of posts, I’d probably find a dozen photos of the views from the Cherry Pond observation deck. Even when I know I’m standing in the same place and pointing the camera in the same direction as I did on an earlier walk, I’ll get a unique image: different light, different season, different shades of earth and sky.

_{Cherry Pond in the Pondicherry Wildlife Refuge, on the Presidential Rail Trail, Jefferson NH.}

I decided to re-visit Mud Pond trail, also in the wildlife refuge but north of Cherry Pond, with its trailhead off of NH Route 116. I was there some years ago when it was brand-new and awaiting finishing touches. Now, it’s a small gem. Bonus: it’s designed to be accessible to anyone in a wheelchair, with switchbacks and boardwalks and easy grades along its half-mile length. It ends at Mud Pond, which really deserves a better name even though it looks unremarkable. It’s pretty and peaceful, and the observation deck must be a birdwatcher’s dream.

_{The trail to Mud Pond in Jefferson is designed for maximum accessibility, leading to a good spot for birdwatching.}

Walking for a cause

Mid-October, I walked 13 miles on the Rockingham Recreation Trail in Auburn, Candia, and Raymond with a group raising funds for the Light of Life shelter in Manchester. We couldn’t have picked a better October day. From a foggy sunrise over Lake Massabesic all the way to full midday sunshine in Raymond, I enjoyed good company.

I hadn’t passed by the old Raymond Depot in awhile, and it was fun to see it again. The littlest rail car – I call it a putt-putt, though it probably has a more dignified name – always looks a little lost on the siding, dwarfed by the more conventional rail cars nearby. They’re all part of the old rail line’s history, so they all belong there.

Raymond Depot along Rockingham Recreational Trail

One piece at a time

Just a few days ago, I attended a ribbon-cutting for a trail in Salem, New Hampshire. A trail segment, to be more precise. A 300-foot segment, if you must know.

Okay, let the eye-rolls commence. But I drove the better part of an hour to be there, because getting that segment finished took years, and I wanted to thank the people who had made it happen. This is the Salem (NH) Bike-Ped Corridor at the Massachusetts state line. Its significance: it’s the south end of what will someday be the Granite State Rail Trail extending from Salem all the way to Lebanon, just this side of Vermont.

A piece of the Salem trail is already in use further north of the newly-christened segment, extending into Windham and Derry. This is the same old rail line that includes what’s now the Londonderry rail trail, which will someday connect with the South Manchester trail, which will someday connect with yet-to-be-built trails in Hooksett and Bow and Concord, finally connecting with the Northern Rail Trail that’s already complete from Boscawen to Lebanon.

This is how long trails are built, whether they’re remote or urban, flat or mountainous: one piece at a time, even if some of those pieces are only be 300 feet long. Over time, those pieces add up.

Pocket park on the Salem Bike-Ped Corridor

I seldom get to Salem, so I spent time after the ribbon-cutting ceremony walking south along the Bike-Ped corridor into Methuen, Massachusetts. It was easy to ignore the traffic noise from nearby heavily-developed Route 28. Instead, I concentrated on the sights, sounds, and fresh clean smells of the wetlands and pocket parks along the way.

“Past peak,” say the foliage reports. Don’t you believe it.

_{A trailside vine shows off its mid-autumn colors.}

Follow the leaders

October 27, 2022January 18, 2023 / Ellen Kolb

I like walking and hiking solo. Peace, quiet, my own pace. But sometimes a guided hike is a good thing. I have a lot to learn about the things I see. One way I try to expand my horizons is by participating in some of the guided hikes offered by the Forest Society throughout the year. The latest one was at the Society’s McCabe Forest in Antrim.

I found McCabe Forest a couple of years ago during a Society program. It was summertime, and the insects were out in force. Now, it’s autumn, the golden time, pre-ice and post-bugs. Forest trails are in style.

The Contoocook River edges the property. The river is lazy and low this time of year, but there’s evidence of how high it can get in periods of heavy rain. I thought about how often I’ve seen the Contoocook during my travels: I’ve hiked along the rail trail in Rindge and Jaffrey that follows the river from its source. I’ve walked the Peterborough Common Path in wintertime with the river beside me. I’ve seen it as I’ve explored Mast State Forest in Concord, just a few miles from where the river flows into the Merrimack.

River and forest, autumn, New Hampshire — *Contoocook River, Antrim NH. Photos by Ellen Kolb.*

I long ago abandoned the silly notion that if you’ve seen one forest trail, you’ve seen them all. Even a single trail can fascinate me with its changes from one season to the next. Accompanying someone familiar with a property can help me sharpen my powers of observation. How could I walk right by a mahogany-colored mushroom of majestic dimensions? I would have, without a guide. It would have been just a random thing blending in with the fallen leaves.

*Fungi on the forest floor, dwarfing the leaves*

People living in a house at one edge of the property enjoy a view that many of us might envy, with no sign of where the backyard ends and the Forest Society land begins. The “border,” such as it is, is figuratively afire with a very attractive shrub that is unfortunately an invasive nuisance. Burning bush is an apt name for it, with leaves whose color stands out from everything around them. Originally imported as an ornamental, burning bush has escaped garden plots all over the state and now crowds out native plants. In fact, it’s now a prohibited species in New Hampshire, so don’t try to buy it. In my own town, it’s one of several hard-to-control invasives on our Conservation Commission properties.

Burning bush, a invasive ornamental plant — *Burning bush, attractive but invasive*

These Forest Society hikes feature informal lessons on natural history, geology, and the people who have lived in the area. (If you’re ever on a Society hike with Dave Anderson, settle in for some good storytelling.) Also, it’s fun to meet people who share an interest in New Hampshire’s natural beauty. Keep the Forest Society in mind if you’re looking for guided-hike ideas. You’re bound to come across something interesting.

Autumn afternoon

October 24, 2022October 24, 2022 / Ellen Kolb

As a pedestrian, I like to take advantage of the auto road up Pack Monadnock in Miller State Park during off-hours, when the gate is closed to auto traffic. Sometimes I’d just rather reach the summit on smooth pavement instead of using the trails in the woods. I recently made the trip as late afternoon was shading into evening.

Miller State Park auto road (Pack Monadnock), late October. Photos by Ellen Kolb.

The road’s uphill grade gave me a bit of a workout, even at my modest pace. I’m discovering that a pair of trekking poles can be helpful to me no matter how smooth the terrain. My poles and I made it to the picnic area at the summit about 35 minutes after leaving the parking lot, covering a bit under a mile and a half of road with 700 feet of elevation gain.

*Mount Monadnock seen from Pack Monadnock*

Gold and bronze leaves caught the setting sun and made the woods glow.

The Boston skyline was lost in haze, except for one of the Back Bay skyscrapers situated at just the right angle to reflect the sun’s rays. It was probably the glassy Hancock building, which I know has a different name now – but it will always be the Hancock building to me.

Mount Monadnock – the Grand Monadnock – is only a few miles away. The view of it from the picnic area at the summit of Pack Monadnock is almost clichéd; everyone takes a photo from the same spot. I’m no exception. The colors of the sky vary with the season and the time of day. Sometimes the view is hazy and sometimes it’s crystal clear. However many pictures I’ve taken there, no two are identical.

*New Hampshire historical marker number 270, Miller State Park, Pack Monadnock summit*

I love finding historical markers on my walks, and there’s a new one atop Pack Monadnock in honor of Miller State Park. Almost all of the New Hampshire markers are placed along state highways, but this one rated a special spot. Route 101 gets you to the park, but you’ll have to drive or hike to the summit to see the marker.

I got to the park too late in the day to join the autumn raptor migration coun t that takes place on Pack Monadnock daily, sponsored by New Hampshire Audubon and the Harris Center in Hancock. It’s a fascinating event that’s definitely worth checking out if you’re in the area this time of year. Bring the kids!

The park’s $4 admission fee is a bargain. I put my donation in an envelope and dropped it in the iron ranger, which is a donation box visitors can use when there’s no attendant on duty. For visits during the park’s regular hours, I advise checking the New Hampshire State Parks website first; reservations might be advisable on busy days.

Several of the state parks have auto roads to featured vistas, and they each make for a pleasant drive. My favorite way to enjoy those roads, though, is on foot in the early morning or late afternoon, when the gate is closed and there are no cars around. Autumn with its moderate weather is prime time for a visit.

November in Boscawen

November 13, 2020November 11, 2020 / Ellen Kolb

One of the southernmost trailheads for New Hampshire’s Northern Rail Trail is on Depot Street in Boscawen, just north of Concord. A little informational sign on the stretch of road shared by US 3 and US 4 points to the side street.

The trail surface invites biking, which means it’s fine for walking, too. The ambitious traveler with the right kind of bike could go clear to the other end of the trail in Lebanon in one trip.

I found the Depot Street trailhead on an overcast November afternoon that was warm enough for me to walk without my jacket. In the hour I was there, I covered about three miles. Along the way: a ball field, a farm with its big mown field, a bend in the low-flowing Merrimack River.

berries autumn rail trail — Northern Rail Trail, Boscawen, November

sign for Northern Rail Trail NH — Northern Rail Trail, Boscawen, November

For more information: Friends of the Northern Rail Trail

Fall day in Candia

November 10, 2020November 13, 2020 / Ellen Kolb

I drove down Depot Road in East Candia a little slowly, wondering if I’d be able to find the parking lot where the Rockingham Rail Trail crosses the street. I needn’t have worried; the nearly-full lot was impossible to miss. That’s nearly full. I tucked my car into one of the few open spots.

East Candia New Hampshire railroad depot sign — _{No depot building here, but a sign marks the spot where a depot once stood. All photos by Ellen Kolb.}

The lot was a busy place. Couples and singles and families were taking bikes off racks or putting them back on. Hikers were setting out, many sporting seasonal blaze orange vests. It was as warm a day as November ever brings, and everyone wanted to take advantage.

Pick a direction: should I go east into Raymond, or west through Candia? Seeing several parties setting off to the east, I wished them well, and then turned my back to them to walk west.

rail trail granite walls — _{Rock cut along Rockingham Rail Trail, East Candia NH}.

The Rockingham Rail Trail between Manchester and Newfields is more than 20 miles long. It’s a piece-at-a-time endeavor for a walker. I picked a winner of a day to amble out-and-back on a three-mile segment in Candia.

Temp in the 60s: what kind of November is this? Sunshine, few clouds, air as dry as could be.

There were more bicyclists than walkers on the trail. That didn’t mean walkers were overwhelmed; traffic was light to moderate. The few walkers kept their cheerful distance as we passed each other with smiles and nods – you stay on your side and I’ll stay on mine, we seemed to be saying.

Where houses were visible as I approached Main Street, the sounds and smells of a sunny late-autumn weekend took over: raking, leaf-blowing, the last round of mowing for the season, a carefully-tended fire to burn the clippings.

New England rail trail autumn — _{A sign along the way hints at the winter traffic to come.}

My turnaround point was Route 43, or more precisely the tunnel under the ramp linking 43 with Route 101. The parking lot in East Candia was nearly deserted when I returned. I decided to spend a little time walking toward Raymond, but I was racing the sunset: after half a mile, I returned to my car.

I think I saw the trail at its most inviting for walkers. Once the snow flies and piles up, the Rockingham Rail Trail will become a snowmobile corridor. Until then, all you need there is your bike or your walking shoes.