Be surprised: Horse Hill shows off for video promoting town trails

April 28, 2025February 26, 2026 / Ellen Kolb

Every so often, a New Hampshire neighbor will invite me to talk about local trails. Once I start on that topic, I don’t know when to quit. When we move from talk to walk, I keep going: here’s this feature, there’s that feature. Sometimes nature itself has to shut me up with the surprises it keeps in store.

This week, I went with a community TV videographer to Horse Hill Nature Preserve. I suggested that we meet at a pond on the property, so that some springtime video footage would provide a good backdrop to the feature she was producing.

That was a silly thought. As was right and proper, I provided the backdrop while the pond provided the feature presentation.

(The finished video, “Trailblazers,” is available for viewing on the Merrimack TV site and app. Great work by my town’s community television crew, as usual!)

A ribbon snake in vegetation at the edge of a pond — _{Ribbon snake. All photos in post by Ellen Kolb.}

As the videographer started to set up her camera’s tripod near the pond’s edge, a ribbon snake came out of its hidey-hole practically at our feet to see what was going on. We stopped what we were doing and watched the slim creature for awhile, as it watched us. It didn’t seem impressed. After a quiet couple of minutes, it disappeared into some thick grass. As the little snake departed, I noticed a little tuft of bluets nearby, the first of the season’s wildflowers.

Small blue flowers growing as ground cover in the spring season — _Bluets

I knelt at the water’s edge to see if I could catch sight of some frogs or dragonflies. Clumsy as I am, I startled away a couple of frogs who jumped into the water when they saw me coming. But hey! A few feet away, my companion spied a frog who stayed put, practically posing for a photo.

The heron rookery was full of action. (This post includes a photo of the same rookery taken in another season when I had a better camera with me.) If the babies have hatched, they were laying low the morning we were there. The adults in the nests were croaking at the noisy geese in the pond. At one point, two herons took off to chase away a hawk that was performing a leisurely flyover to see what tasty morsels might be tucked away in the nests. That hawk had nerve, but not nerve enough to stick around when a pair of birds with six-foot wingspans came after it.

A family of great blue herons sit in a large nest in a heron rookery — Horse Hill’s herons in a warmer season.

A frog rests on a tree stump partially immersed in a pond — Horse Hill’s herons in a warmer season.

We came looking for a backdrop for an interview. Instead, the pond spoke for itself. All we had to do was stand still and let ourselves be surprised.

Light rain began to fall as we finished up. Nothing stormy. It was a grace note to the jazzy little riff nature had just played for us.

Late-winter ice on NRRT

March 10, 2025June 11, 2025 / Ellen Kolb

Daylight Saving Time has just kicked in, and messy trails came along with it. On the Nashua River Rail Trail on a sunny day over the weekend, I found lots of bumpy ice. I came prepared with cleats on my shoes and no need to hurry. Along the way, I found a good sturdy stick with which to flick aside some of the tree litter left after recent windy days.

view from a rail trail of a frozen brook with many bare trees in view — _{View from the Nashua River Rail Trail of Unkety (Unquetymasset) Brook wetland, which won’t remain iced-over for long.}

I started my walk at the northern end of the trail in New Hampshire, where the paved Gilson Road parking lot was nice and clear, thanks to Nashua Public Works. The trail itself would have been too icy for me without traction aids. I did see one walker who seemed to be doing fine in plain sneakers, sure-footed as a mountain goat.

Near the farm in Dunstable across the state line, I saw a couple of children apparently on their way to tend some chickens. I suspect these are the same kids who set up a lemonade stand along the trail in warmer weather. They’re the ones who taught me to keep a dollar in my pocket whenever I’m on NRRT.

The marshy area along Unkety Brook – or Unquetynasset, as the trailside sign would have it – was all but silent, with not so much as a stray goose in sight. Usually it’s a fine spot for birdwatching. I keep hoping that some enterprising osprey will build a new nest in one of the nearby snags. One such nest in that area lasted over a decade, surviving storm Irene in 2011 before being abandoned.

No bicyclists today. Conditions weren’t right for anything on wheels. That’ll change soon enough. Today, the trail was for walkers like me. Get yourself a pair of cleats and brave the ice before mud season begins.

If you enjoy reading these posts about southern New Hampshire trails, I hope you’ll consider supporting the blog. Thank you!

photo of cleats, worn over hiking shoes to improve traction, and a stick used while hiking — _{Equipment for a walk on an icy rail trail: inexpensive cleats that fit over my shoes, and a stick for pushing tree litter aside.}

On finding a little less open land

December 31, 2024June 11, 2025 / Ellen Kolb

I’ve tried over the years to develop a habit of gratitude while I’m hiking. Gratitude for what? There’s obvious beauty, of course – the sights that stop me in my tracks and take my breath away. Then there are subtler things I’d miss if I weren’t paying attention: spring wildflowers carpeting the ground, or an owl surveying me from a tree branch.

I got a reminder recently of another blessing that I too often take for granted when I’m walking around New Hampshire. Not a thing, but people. They’re the landowners who allow hikers to cross their property. Open land becomes more scarce with each passing year. I recently discovered that a little sliver of it on which I’ve depended is now posted.

A New England river in winter, with ice at the edges and rushing water in the middle. — *Before reaching the “no trespassing” signs, I walked along the Souhegan River for awhile.* *Ellen Kolb photo.*

Putting up a “no trespassing” sign is every landowner’s right. Finding one along a familiar path makes me sad, though.

Now, I need to change the route of my two-and-a-half mile walk into town from a quiet low-traffic route to a busy road with blind curves and no sidewalks. That’s a problem, but I’ll cope. What bothers me more is that I don’t know why the landowner chose to post the land. Was it because someone crossing the property abused the privilege?

No one owes me an explanation, of course. But I’m sorry I never thanked the landowner while the little strip of land was open.

So I have a resolution to add to my New Year’s list: thank the landowners who let me pass through. They’re a vanishing breed.

While I’m counting my blessings, I’m thanking my readers! I’ve been blogging at Granite State Walker for 18 years, and this blog earned more views in 2024 than ever before. Most visitors got here simply by doing a web search for southern New Hampshire trails, and I hope they’ve been rewarded with lots of good hikes.

The most popular search term this year was “Kearsarge,” and why not? A visit to Winslow or Rollins State Park featuring a hike up Mount Kearsarge makes for a great day.

If you enjoy Granite State Walker, you can help me get to the next trailhead by supporting the blog. Thank you!

Living color: autumn’s best in the Granite State

November 2, 2024February 26, 2026 / 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

I had planned to join a group for a 13-mile fundraising walk on the Rockingham Recreational Trail, but unfortunately, 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, I’d been sponsored by a generous donor to the shelter that was to have benefited from the fundraiser.

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.}

Summer walks, featuring an irritated osprey

August 26, 2024February 26, 2026 / Ellen Kolb / 1 Comment

No mountain hikes for me this season, but New Hampshire provides many other places to enjoy.

A brief encounter with an angry bird

The Cross New Hampshire Adventure Trail (XNHAT) is eighty-plus miles long, from Woodsville in the west to Bethel (Maine) in the east. Most of the people enjoying the trail are bicyclists, some traveling in organized groups, covering the length of the trail in two or three days. Then there’s the likes of me, hoofing it a few miles at a time during occasional North Country trips. This summer I’ve been nibbling away at the easternmost twenty-five miles or so, through Gorham and Shelburne.

From Hogan Road in Gorham NH: Mts. Madison and Adams

Earlier this month, I was walking on XNHAT’s rough and rustic Hogan Road when I came upon a wide power line cut. An osprey was on its big nest atop a platform next to a power line support. I stopped to take a photo. That was precisely the wrong thing to do. Whether by standing still or by pointing my phone at the nest, I made the big bird think its nest was threatened. The osprey promptly swooped down and dove at my head. When I took a few steps back, it continued to circle me, making it clear that I was not going to get past the power line cut that day. Back I went, retracing my steps to my car, cutting a planned 12-mile walk down to eight. I couldn’t help but laugh a bit. This was one obstacle I’d never anticipated.

I’ve been close to bears, moose, deer, bison, and countless smaller beasties. Never before has one come after me. Respect the talons, I say.

Southern New Hampshire summer sights

Cheshire County: Rhododendron State Park in Fitzwilliam had a fairly tame annual bloom this year in July, but even the few blossoms on the giant shrubs made a pleasing sight. After a walk through the shady rhododendron grove, I continued a mile down a road just outside the park, finding my way to Rockwood Pond and the Cheshire Rail Trail. Black-eyed Susans, Monadnock in the distance, and a retired rail excursion car on display along the rail trail: a lot of variety for one afternoon’s rambling.

At Troy Depot, a Boston and Maine excursion car is on display.

View from a forest, with hills in the distance — _{On Oak Hill, Concord NH}

Concord: I usually head straight up Oak Hill’s two-mile trail to the fire tower, but this time I explored side trails and spurs all over the hill. At the fire tower, hazy skies muted the panorama somewhat, but the breeze on a tower’s top landing always feels great on a hot day. I lucked into finding a fire spotter on duty, so I got to visit the cab for a few minutes.

Milford: Passing through Milford on a muggy Sunday, I stopped to check out a pedestrian path that connects Keyes Field and Emerson Park along the Souhegan River. This one’s pretty close to my home, and yet I’d never seen it. It’s delightful. There’s a pedestrian bridge over the river, letting walkers go between the recreational areas without having to navigate the busy Milford Oval. Informational signage along the trail identifies various flora and provides historical information. Thumbs up to the town of Milford for this little municipal gem.

_{Pedestrian bridge over Souhegan River in Milford NH.}

All photos by Ellen Kolb.

A bit of a challenge: knees vs. trails

July 2, 2024February 26, 2026 / Ellen Kolb

I’m downright embarrassed. I haven’t been on any hilly hikes lately (save one, about which more below). I haven’t explored anyplace new. Nothing long, despite my good intentions about training for an autumn attempt at the Cross New Hampshire Adventure Trail. My recent challenges have been on the order of going up stairs without pulling the railing out of the wall.

Shut up, knees. I’m trying to hike here. I’ve been muttering that a lot since a mid-May mishap in which I banged up both knees, one worse than the other. A few weeks ago I tried a hike up South Uncanoonuc in Goffstown, New Hampshire, which with its twin to the north is the first place I go when I test how rehab from injury is going. Nice views, bad judgment. My knees and I have barely been on civil terms ever since. Flat is fine, stairs not so much.

But oh, a stop on a South Uncanoonuc ledge was refreshing. I had a view to the west-southwest, towards the Monadnocks, with Grand Monadnock itself peeking from behind the Wapack range.

photo of hills in distance, pine trees in foreground

I’ve since been walking on easy paths with their own attractions. One of my town’s conservation areas is home to a heron rookery that’s too far away from shore to be captured by my phone’s camera. I pressed my family’s “real” camera into service, to good effect. The juvenile herons are growing fast.

The Nashua River Rail Trail can still surprise me, even after a hundred or more visits. I spotted a trailside blossom the other day that I’d never seen before. Goat’s rue, if my phone’s plant ID app is accurate; I welcome correction from any reader who knows better. In a year when poison ivy and knotweed threaten to overwhelm the trail’s usual flora, this was a treat to find.

goat's rue blossom amid grassy ground cover

Annoyed as I am to be on limited duty, I can see this will be a beautiful summer. May you find pleasant surprises on your own Granite State walks this season.