Fall’s first half: New Hampshire, north to south

November 1, 2023February 26, 2026 / 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. 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 a 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.}

Where NH rail trails meet history

September 23, 2023February 26, 2026 / Ellen Kolb

The more I hike around the Granite State, the more I become aware of the pieces of history visible along the way. There are stories everywhere, told in many ways: markers, signs, cellar holes, even concrete footings from long-gone towers and cabins. The recent dedication of a historical marker not far from my home sparked this post, which I wrote for nhrtc.org, the website of the New Hampshire Rail Trails Coalition.

You’ll be well rewarded as you travel along New Hampshire’s rail trails if you keep your eyes open for reminders of Granite State history and heritage. You’ll find informative markers, plaques, and signs celebrating people and events. Among the newest is the Black Heritage Trail marker honoring William Hobdy, mounted on the Derry Rail Trail just south of Broadway (NH Route 102).

Historical marker from Black Heritage Trail in New Hampshire honoring William Hobdy — _{On the Black Heritage Trail in New Hampshire: a tribute to William Hobdy, businessman and entertainer. Photo by Ellen Kolb}

The dedication of the Hobdy marker was a community-wide event drawing a crowd to central Derry. William Hobdy lived in town in the early 20th century and became owner of a small business. His music brought him his greatest renown, as his ragtime piano skills graced local venues. Now, the marker relating his story is a prominent feature on the Derry Rail Trail in the town center.

On the same trail, keep an eye out for artwork framing a poem by Robert Frost, who once taught at nearby Pinkerton Academy before earning worldwide fame for his poetry.

Another Black Heritage Trail marker is at Potter Place in Andover, where a restored depot is a scenic highlight along the popular Northern Rail Trail. Andover resident Richard Potter was a 19th-century entertainer who gained nationwide fame as a ventriloquist, magician, and humorist, but his story didn’t end there. The marker honoring Potter can inspire you to learn more about him and his time.

_{Canobie Lake Station marker along the Salem NH bike-pad trail. Ellen Kolb photo.}

Thanks to the enthusiasm of rail trail fans in conjunction with local historical societies, some trails celebrate a heritage of passenger rail to popular parks and bygone resorts. Kiosks in the towns of Troy and New Boston display reproductions of train schedules from the days when Boston residents would come to New Hampshire via train for vacations and day trips. In Salem on the Bike-Ped trail, a marker recalls train service to Canobie Lake and Rockingham Park.

Sometimes, a sign will spotlight a feature of the trail itself. Watch for an informational sign along the Sugar River Trail in Newport about the unusual Pier covered bridge, built tall enough to accommodate the trains that used to ply the route. Motorists on nearby roads can’t see the bridge, but trail users get to travel right through it.

These clues to local history add something special to an excursion on rail trails. Every trip can reveal something new.

Finishing the NH Rail Trail Challenge: some patch-y thoughts

August 26, 2023February 26, 2026 / Ellen Kolb

There’s a colorful new piece in my trail-memento shadow box: the patch noting completion of the New Hampshire Rail Trails Challenge. Over the past few years I’ve walked, and occasionally biked, on every rail trail in the state. That’s hundreds of miles, especially considering that I usually hike alone and don’t have a shuttle to get me back to my starting point. I’ve seen everything coming and going.

I loved this project. It’s open to anyone, with details available at nhrtc.org. Check it out, and you’re bound to discover trails you never knew about. Even a single region’s trails could keep a walker busy all year.

This is the project that got me involved with the New Hampshire Rail Trail Coalition. I had the privilege of serving on the NHRTC board for three years. In that time, I met some fine people and got an education in trail development and maintenance. It all started with a list of trails and the dangerous thought “hmmm…I could do that.”

Favorites

Presidential Rail Trail, Gorham-Whitefield. I love this one for its views in Pondicherry Wildlife Refuge, not to mention the views of the Presidential Range and Cherry Mountain. This is far from local for me, but I’ve found ways to get up there every year. Maybe I’d get bored with it if I saw it more often. Hmmmm…no. I’d love it anyway.

Nashua River Rail Trail. This is my home trail, so to speak. I know every bit of it from its mile in Nashua, New Hampshire all the way to its southern end in Ayer, Massachusetts. I first rode it the week of its dedication as a rail trail a couple of decades ago. I must have been there upwards of 200 times since then, observing every season’s changes. It’s justifiably popular. The pavement has its figurative ups and downs, but the recent reconstruction on some Massachusetts segments will keep this trail going for many years to come. And hooray for the city of Nashua, which now keeps the big parking lot at the north end of the trail on Gilson Road plowed in winter.

Rockingham Recreational Trail, Manchester-Newfields. The section heading east from Lake Massabesic at the Manchester/Auburn line is a favorite of mine for a quick two or three midday miles after appointments in Manchester. I avoid it during mud season, but the rest of the year makes up for that. The trail is well-traveled near the lake and becomes much quieter the further east I go. It’s close to Route 101, but the trees lining the trail muffle much of the traffic noise.

Cherry Mountain from the Presidential Rail Trail, Jefferson NH

One-offs

These are a few of the trails I visited only once. Perhaps I’ll be able to return to them another time.

Lilac City Greenway, Rochester. A business trip to Rochester a couple of years ago gave me a chance to walk along this greenway alongside busy Route 125. In town, it looks like a sidewalk rather than an abandoned rail line. Its landscaping and public art make it a cheery feature.

Sugar River Rail Trail, Newport. This one’s up in Sullivan County, another out-of-the-way place for me. I treasure the memory of the day I spent walking nine-plus miles on this little gem. It’s open to OHRVs, which sometimes creates issues for slow trail users like me, but there were no problems during my midweek visit. It’s a shady trail with several interesting bridges along the way. I benefited from a very reasonably-priced shuttle ride on a Southwestern Community Services bus between Newport and Claremont.

Cotton Valley Rail Trail, Wolfeboro-Wakefield. I visited this one the day a local rail car club had an open house. The unique trail has rails in place for little rail motor cars – interesting in themselves – with the hardpack walking/biking path between the rails.

Lilac City Greenway in Rochester, NH — Lilac City Greenway, Rochester NH. Photo by Ellen Kolb.

I found hiker-friendly towns that I never would have visited if I hadn’t been on a mission to explore every trail. When echoes of Covid restrictions were still in the air, I stopped in Lisbon on the Ammonoosuc trail and found cheerful hospitality. While heading for the Warren rail trail, a driver from a hostel catering to Appalachian Trail hikers agreed to give me a shuttle ride that saved me two hours of walking. (Best five bucks I spent all that week.) The folks at the general store in Danbury along the Northern Rail Trail took one look at my sweaty face, halfway through a 15-mile day, and showed me first to the restroom and then to the cold drinks. I came across such kindnesses all over the state.

You can search this blog for many rail trail posts I made during the Challenge. I hope you’ll take the Challenge yourself. If that’s too big a project to tackle, explore one or two of the trails near you. May your adventures be as rewarding as mine.

All photos by Ellen Kolb.

Close to home, a rainy June

June 30, 2023March 10, 2026 / Ellen Kolb

Only last year, we were concerned about drought in New Hampshire. I loved the dry trails throughout summer and fall, but then there was an uneasy November afternoon when a fire behind my house crept through dry duff and brush up to the edge of my yard. (My town’s firefighters did a fine job that day, which is pretty much what they do all the time.)

I’m not anticipating any such excitement this year, at least not in early summer. June has brought rain and lots of it. Maintenance of unpaved trails has been a challenge. Trailside vegetation is growing lushly in defiance of mowers and weed-whackers. My supplies of permethrin and DEET will need replenishing before the season’s out, since pests like ticks and mosquitoes love this sort of environment. And you know what? I’m fine with all of that.

Mountain laurel and sheep laurel are having a magnificent year. Even the buds were beautiful, giving me a week’s notice of the bounty to come.

Close-up of mountain laurel shrub with white blossoms and flower buds. — *Mountain laurel, in bud and bloom. Photos by Ellen Kolb/Granite State Walker.* *This and other photos on the site may be reproduced unedited with attribution.*

The Souhegan River sure looks good after last year’s low levels. It has stayed within its banks so far. I love being able to hear the river as I walk through my neighborhood! Last year, it made barely a sound as flowed by slowly.

River flowing over rocks, creating small waterfalls — *Falls on the* *Souhegan River, southern NH, June.*

Several factors have kept me close to home lately, but I’m enjoying plenty of good walks. I went back to the Andres Institute of Art in Brookline to see what was new on the trails. This unique venue is set up on what was once a very tiny ski area. What used to be ski trails are now walking trails, with sculptures around every turn. New sculptures are installed every year, created by a variety of artists from all over the world. There’s no visitor’s center, but checking the website at andresinstitute.org will help orient the first-time guest. [Update, 2026: AIA now has a visitor center, including a gallery and special programs such as concerts. See the AIA website for most current information.] One of my favorite places on the site is at the modest summit. “Phoenix” by Janis Karlovs of Latvia adorns the view to the west.

Outdoor sculpture titled "Phoenix" on a New Hampshire hill with a ridge of hills in the distance. — *At the Andres Institute of Art in Brookline NH, sculptor Janis Karlov’s “Phoenix” seems to point to the Wapack Range in the distance. Note the rain clouds that characterized this rainy June.*

Rain has left the Rockingham Recreational Trail in Auburn soft but not too muddy. The walk eastward from the Lake Massabesic parking lot is one of the best quick lunchtime getaways that southern New Hampshire has to offer. Midweek is ideal. On the edge of New Hampshire’s largest city, sometimes within sight of busy route 101, the trail is a place of quiet refreshment for me. Wild roses were blooming as I walked through recently. I caught the fragrance before I saw the blossoms.

Unpaved rail trail in New Hampshire with wild roses growing along the edge. — *Along the Rockingham Recreational Trail in Auburn NH, you’ll catch the fragrance of trailside roses before you see them.*

That’s not too bad for a rainy June. I could stand a little more sunshine, but summer is young. Clearer days are ahead.

Cusp of spring along the Merrimack River

April 6, 2023February 26, 2026 / Ellen Kolb

My favorite garden center opened for the season yesterday. I picked up one pot each of forced narcissus and hyacinths to put in my front window. No reason, really, except that I want something colorful to look at while the hickory and elm trees outside are still looking drab.

A few more weeks and the drab of winter will be past. Buds are swelling. I walked in Concord today on a trail along the Merrimack River. Around me were bare shrubs, bare trees, and fields of corn stubble. But something further away caught my eye: an island in the middle of the meandering river, with trees adorned with cloud-like pale-red streaks. Maples, of course, flowering earlier than all the other trees. Delightful.

_{Early April, Merrimack River: looks like spring is coaxing the maples along. Ellen Kolb photo.}

The trail was in good shape, with very little mud. That’s not the case everywhere in southern New Hampshire, and mud season makes it challenging for me to pick good places to walk. The bugs aren’t out in force yet, though, which is a plus.

Soon I won’t have to look past my yard for flowering trees and unfolding leaves. That means my spring allergies will soon flare up. Worth it, though.

For now, I like being on the cusp of spring. The tom turkeys in my neighborhood are mightily displaying their plumage in an attempt to impress the hens. My neighbor on the sunnier side of the street is tending to the gorgeous little patch of crocuses blooming in her yard. The herons are back at their rookery. And of course the peepers are out now – the tiny tree frogs whose springtime call sounds like a chorus of little bells.

Sunset walk, with turkeys

March 17, 2023February 26, 2026 / Ellen Kolb

I seldom take sunset walks these days. Fresh into Daylight Savings Time, though, I find myself with daylight to work with even after I’m through with the dinner dishes. The lingering light lured me outside yesterday, long enough for a round-the-block stroll. I was well-rewarded: I saw and heard the local turkeys as they called it a day.

We share our suburban development with a flock of wild turkeys. My neighbors and I are accustomed to seeing them a few at a time in our yards throughout the year, patiently gobbling up spilled seed beneath bird feeders or checking out freshly-turned soil in our gardens. The flock has grown over the past several years, and I counted 57 turkeys a few weeks ago, pecking and scratching under nearby power lines for whatever food they could find. They’re habituated to us, but still wild.

_{Wild turkeys flocking together, late winter. Ellen Kolb photo.}

I’m used to hearing gobbling and clucking, along with the occasional thumping whoosh as a turkey takes ungainly flight, usually at just the right altitude to match the grille of an oncoming car. On my recent sunset walk, I heard that whoosh, then another and another. Soon I came upon the cleared space under the power lines, and there they were: dozens of turkeys, taking flight one at a time, not to torment motorists but to head into the nearby pines to roost.

I’d never seen a flock at sunset. I stood fascinated, watching them ascend to their chosen spots. There were a few kerfuffles as some of the roosting birds objected to having their space invaded by later arrivals, but there was ample room in the stand of trees for all of them. Soon the clucking subsided to softer sounds, and the whooshes came to an end.

The timing was none of my doing. I just got lucky. Pretty good stuff, for a spur-of-the-moment walk.

male wild turkey displaying feathers — _{Male wild turkey, posing for his portrait. Ellen Kolb photo.}

According to New Hampshire Fish and Game, wild turkeys were successfully re-introduced into New Hampshire in the 1970s, after more than a hundred years of absence due to habitat loss and overhunting. Since then, the turkeys have been thriving. Too thriving, it sometimes seems: I think every driver in the state has at one time or another had to stop for a bunch of turkeys crossing a road, always one bird at a time, moving at an infuriatingly leisurely pace.

I’ve grown a bit more patient with the big fowls as they’ve moved into the neighborhood. I’ve seen them throughout the year, courting and squabbling and caring for their young. Without meaning to, I’ve picked up a bit about the rhythm of their lives. They’re remarkable, even if they do act as though they own the roads.

Updated 2026 to revise web link.