Close to home, a rainy June

/ 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

/ 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

/ 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.

Teamwork makes solo walks possible

/ Ellen Kolb

I was on the Nashua River Rail Trail for a few miles this weekend. I couldn’t help noticing freshly-cut logs and branches along both sides, thanks to volunteers I’ll probably never meet. Breezes and recent heavy wet snow had brought down trees all over the place. On the northernmost stretch of NRRT, the mess is cleared. All I had to toss aside were a few small branches.

Nashua River Rail Trail: winter winds brought down a tree, and volunteers cleared away the mess. Fence-mending will wait.

Not so upstate at one of New Hampshire’s largest ski areas which I recently visited. It’s one of the few ski areas in the state with a decent system of trails for Nordic skiers and snowshoers. While the resort’s management is understandably focused on the downhill ski trade (that’s where the money is), there’s not enough staff to keep the snowshoe/fat bike trails cleared, at least not yet this season.

I’ve kept an eye on websites reporting on New Hampshire rail trail conditions. Many of the rail trails are much longer than NRRT and have that much more of a mess to clean up. Enter the snowmobile clubs: I’m aware of two in particular in the southwestern part of the state that put out calls for volunteers for workdays this weekend. I’m sure that snowmobile clubs all over the state are doing the same thing, as pretty much every region got hit by storms over the couple of weeks.

Those clubs are doing work that will make walks much easier for me year-round, not just in winter. Grooming snow, clearing deadfall, and mowing grass take time and equipment and volunteers. I like walking alone, but some of the most enjoyable trails I know wouldn’t be accessible or pleasant without the work of many people. My solo walks benefit from teamwork.

Want to say thanks to the snowmobile clubs? Send a donation, even if you’re not a member. Include a note saying that you’re a grateful hiker. The New Hampshire State Parks website provides a list of clubs, and you can look up a club’s social media accounts (usually updated much more frequently than websites) to find contact information and to keep track of opportunities to volunteer for trail work.

My winter walks thus far have mostly been close to home, in neighborhoods and municipal parks. Those routes could use post-storm help, too. Your town’s parks and rec department or conservation commission might put out a call for volunteers on specific cleanup projects. Be on the lookout for such announcements.

And if you happen to come across some folks doing trail maintenance while you’re out and about, stop to say thanks.

Hike Safe card: not just for mountain hikers

/ Ellen Kolb / 1 Comment

For my New Hampshire readers, here’s a plea from me: if you haven’t purchased a Hike Safe card, please do so now. Even if you’re sure you’ll never need to be rescued, buy one anyway. It will be a small way of supporting the state’s Search and Rescue fund. Sadly, demands on the fund never let up.

Take out a credit card, go online to the New Hampshire Fish and Game’s Hike Safe page, and plunk down $25 for a virtual card covering an individual, $35 for a family. If a Hike Safe cardholder needs to be rescued in the course of an outdoor activity, she or he will not in most cases be assessed for the cost of the rescue. Just get the card. Don’t wait.

I write this as I hear news about a hiker who perished upstate while attempting a solo hike on a mountain ridge in winter weather. A few weeks ago, another hiker lost her life in the same area. Rescue attempts, which became recovery missions, involved professional conservation officers from New Hampshire Fish and Game plus many volunteers.

Those same volunteers and first responders would come out even if the trail were less challenging. They don’t write off any of us. Missing hikers, once reported overdue by family or friends, spark a search-and-rescue mission.

I know from experience that hikes can go awry even in good weather on heavily-traveled trails. (A particularly embarrassing day on Monadnock comes to mind.) While I haven’t yet inspired any rescue missions, I’m uncomfortably aware that this could change anytime. I carry simple essentials even for short hikes, but even so, bad stuff happens now and then.

Ninety percent of my trail miles are on flat trails within an hour of my home. I buy a Hike Safe card every year anyway. It’s cheap insurance against being assessed some hefty costs arising from my own negligence. More importantly, the card lets me as a hiker contribute to the readiness of search-and-rescue teams.

Hunters, anglers, and anyone registering a boat, OHRV, or snowmobile already contribute to the Search and Rescue fund as part of their license and registration fees. Hikers don’t need a license. We can pull our weight, so to speak, by purchasing the Hike Safe card.

Image by yinet gomez from Pixabay

A pair of enduring favorites: Mt. Kearsarge and Oak Hill

/ Ellen Kolb

The Granite State Walker blog is now sixteen years old! This modest landmark prompted me to look back and see which posts have drawn the most viewers – and I hope inspired as many hikes – during that time.

Two destinations finished way out in front: Mount Kearsarge with its trailheads in Warner and Wilmot, and Oak Hill in Concord. Each has prompted several posts from me, and even the older posts keep finding an audience.

Oak Hill, New Hampshire, fall foliage, hill showing through distant haze
view from Oak Hill, looking west toward Mount Kearsarge
mountaintop cairn, blue sky with puffy clouds
view from Mt. Kearsarge summit, Warner NH

I’m not surprised. Each of those locations has a fire tower, which can be an irresistible draw. Each one offers multiple trails. Easy access is another advantage: the south side of Kearsarge, via Rollins State Park, is only a few minutes’ drive from I-89. Oak Hill is close to I-93, and in fact is only a 12-minute drive from the State House (I checked).

The auto road through Rollins State Park ends at a picnic area a half-mile from the Kearsarge summit, which is a short hike for day trippers. (Don’t be lulled into carelessness by the short distance; plan ahead and wear appropriate footwear.) When the auto road is closed to vehicular traffic, usually November through May, it’s still accessible to pedestrians and bicyclists, and one needn’t get to the summit to find fine views along the way. Winslow State Park on the north side of Kearsarge offers a longer hike.

The Oak Hill trails are managed by the city of Concord, which has a surprising number of parks and trails for a city its size. The trail to the fire tower meanders uphill for about two forested miles to the Concord-Loudon town line. Shorter trails lead to pleasant vistas, including a western prospect that looks out toward – you guessed it – Mt. Kearsarge.

In sixteen years as the Granite State Walker, I haven’t run out of good places to explore south of the White Mountains. New trails are ahead, I know. But it’s good to have some old favorites to which we can return now and then. Kearsarge and Oak Hill are two of the best.