How to become a Granite State walker

September 25, 2025November 11, 2025 / Ellen Kolb / 1 Comment

Some time ago, a local writer interviewed me about the advantages of getting outside to walk on trails and paths and sidewalks. The resulting article sparked questions from readers about how I got started doing just that. So here’s how I became a Granite State walker, and I can hope this helps inspire soon-to-be-walkers everywhere.

Legs and feet of hiker who is reclining in a meadow with yellow flowers — ^{Image by Kurt Bouda from Pixabay}

Getting started

I’m writing with my age-60-plus contemporaries in mind, but anyone can take the information and make the most of it.

For someone who hasn’t yet developed a habit of walking or hiking, what’s the first step? I’m supposed to say “get the OK from your health care provider.” I confess that I didn’t do that when I got started.

Next thing to do is get good shoes. Nothing will ruin a good day faster than a blister or pinched toe or plantar fasciitis (the bane of my existence). Think of good shoes as a prescription: high priority, worth the price, essential to health. I’m a thrift-store shopper for the most part, but when it comes to footwear for hiking, I head straight for the local specialty shoe store with a staff accustomed to working with active adults. For me, that means Alec’s in Nashua NH. Even the discount racks there have high-quality shoes. They’re only on the discount rack because they’re last year’s models – and who cares about the model year? As for cost, good shoes are cheaper than medical care necessitated by poorly-fitting shoes or a sedentary lifestyle.

If you’re exploring trails in New Hampshire, get a Hike Safe card online from New Hampshire Fish & Game, and read the Hike Safe website. Even if you’re not a Granite Stater, that site has good information for you.

I keep a rain jacket and ice-gripping cleats handy, but sometimes a treadmill is a better option for me when the weather’s messy. I maintain a $10-per-month gym membership to keep that option open.

If your mobility is impaired for any reason, even temporarily, work with your health care provider for strategies that will help you explore the outdoors.

Where to walk

The hardest part of developing a habit of walking is simply deciding to get out there. Walk around the block or through the neighborhood. Ten minutes on pavement is better than ten minutes of looking the nearest screen. Once I got started walking for pleasure and exercise, ten minutes grew to 20, then an hour, and so on.

If you rely on assistive devices for mobility, look for trails that are paved (like the Windham and Londonderry trails) or are otherwise well-surfaced. Friends might know about accessible places. Check with your local senior center; I’ll bet there are volunteers with ideas. Online research can help.

If you’re lucky enough to live in a low-traffic area, create some routes on local streets. Look up your town’s Parks and Rec department and Conservation Commission. Both are likely to have properties with trails and trail maps. Check out state parks, too.

The Fire Tower Quest sponsored by New Hampshire Forests and Lands led me to towers near and far, from Federal Hill in Milford to Mt. Magalloway in Pittsburg. Want a Tower Quest patch? Visit five towers, and in southern New Hampshire, that’s not too hard. Bring a friend or a child or a grandchild. The views are worth the uphill walks.

The Forest Society has properties all over New Hampshire, many with marked trails. Find out about properties and download maps at https://www.forestsociety.org/visitor-guide. A few of my favorites are Dame Forest in Durham, Madame Sherri Forest in Chesterfield, and the Merrimack River Conservation and Education area in Concord.

Anyone who’s read this blog for awhile knows that I’m a rail trail fan in all seasons. Do yourself a favor and browse the New Hampshire Rail Trails Coalition website, nhrtc.org.

What’s the difference between a hike and a walk? Very subjective. To me, if I need boots, that’s a hike. Don’t let yourself think you’re not a hiker just because you’re not on the way to the summit of Mt. Washington.

Safety

When I head outside, whether I’m in the neighborhood or away seeking one of those fire towers, I let a family member know where I’m going and when I expect to be home.

I say this as someone who much prefers hiking alone: it’s a good idea to hike with a partner. I know that when I choose a solo trip, I’m deciding not to have someone around who can summon help if I’m injured and unable to fend for myself.

Go to hikesafe.com for information on what to carry on a hike. Be responsible for your own safety to the greatest extent. New Hampshire Fish and Game offers a list of the Ten Essentials. Even on a local walk, I’m sure to have my phone, keys, a whistle, a small flashlight that hangs on my keychain, and ID. If I’m on a trail, I have a printed map.

I always bring my phone, and I never stake my life on it. Yes, my smartphone has a compass and can store maps, but only if the battery is charged – and here’s the voice of experience to assure you that batteries run down. Some of the places I go, even in my own town, have weak or no cell signal. Calls might be impossible and texts might be sketchy. As for the phone’s flashlight, using it will burn through the phone’s battery in no time.

Why bother?

Why choose to create a walking habit in the first place? I started out for my own mental health. As I pace I can pray, mull over a problem, or learn from what I see around me. As a young mother of five, I found the walks refreshing. They didn’t do the kids any harm, either.

Physical health was a secondary concern for me when I got started, but it has become more significant as I’ve grown older. “Movement is medicine,” says my massage therapist. My experience bears that out. I have a genetic predisposition to some annoying things that have been kept at bay by regular physical activity. Joints have stiffened; they’d be stiffer still if I weren’t literally putting them through their paces frequently.

Walking teaches me to appreciate where I am, without comparisons. I am no Olympic athlete. My aerobic capacity is not comparable to that of a distance runner. I will never set a speed record beyond the ever-challenging Personal Best. And you know what? I’m a walker anyway. I’m a hiker anyway. I’m not trying to impress anyone, and I’m grateful for every step. Gratitude gets easier with age.

Walking has taught me to see what’s around me. The pace suits me. I see things that a runner or cyclist or motorist would miss. Along the way I’ve grown to appreciate the work of trail stewards. I’ll never again take for granted a path that’s in good shape.

I was in my mid-thirties when I started walking for exercise. Most of those walks were once around the block (did I mention I have five children?). Now, thirty years later, I just wrapped up a trip that included 66 miles of walking. Your style and goals might be different, and that’s fine. Just start.

If you’d like to support Granite State Walker, you can buy me a coffee. Thanks!

One way to celebrate – part I

September 8, 2025September 13, 2025 / Ellen Kolb / 3 Comments

Do you have something to celebrate, but you’re not sure how? Walking works for me.

My original plan for this year was to celebrate my birthday with a flourish. I’d backpack on my favorite New Hampshire rail trails, maybe over five days or so, for a number of miles equal to my age.

Ultimately, the plan was modified in every respect except the number of miles I wanted to walk. Dayhiking instead of backpacking; eight days, not five; August, not the actual month of my birthday. I included roads and park paths as well as rail trails. I skipped around New Hampshire, and even crossed into Maine for a bit.

Mission accomplished. I’ll help myself to cake at the earliest opportunity.

Let me share some highlights. Maybe you’ll get ideas for your own celebrations. I’ll split this into three posts, so if you like this one, you can look forward to two more shortly. If you don’t like this one, you can tune in later to see if I’ve upped my game.

Franconia Notch State Park

I’ve driven on I-93 through the notch more times than I can count. Knowing that Franconia Notch State Park has a paved recreational trail 9 miles long, I thought it was about time for me to enjoy the area at walking speed.

"The Basin", a small chute of water into a pool lined with smooth granite rock — *_{The Basin in Franconia Notch State Park, NH. Dry summer, low water – and still a pleasant place to visit.}* _{Ellen Kolb photo.}

The rec trail was a treat, once I came to terms with the cyclists sharing the path. There were more than a few e-bike renters who weren’t quite at home with their vehicles on the downhills. We gave each other space and cheerful greetings. I was there midweek, and I expect the experience might have been more hectic on a weekend.

I started at the Flume visitor center at the south end of the notch, and worked my way north. I stopped at the pretty Basin for a few minutes, and gave serious thought to joining a few people wading in the shallow Pemigewasset River just upstream. Warm day, cool water…but I kept going, knowing that up at Profile Plaza I’d find a place to enjoy my lunch with views of the surrounding mountains. The walk back to where I was parked was downhill, and I made sure to listen for speedy cyclists coming up behind me.

*_{The Franconia Notch recreational trail and the cliffs of Cannon Mountain. Ellen Kolb photo.}*

Here’s a tip, if you’re participating in the scavenger hunt celebrating the 90th birthday of the New Hampshire state parks system: in Franconia Notch state park, you can find several opportunities to score points.

Towards the southern end of the rec trail, I was on the Appalachian trail for about 30 feet. Maybe 20. We briefly shared a bridge, you see. AT hikers go through Franconia Notch the hard way. It wasn’t the last time I’d cross the AT on this trip.

I packed too much sweet stuff in my lunch bag. The rec trail goes through Lafayette Campground, where I found a nice little store stocked with Goldfish crackers. Pardon my crumbs.

If you head to the Notch and want to get oriented, the Flume visitor center at the south end of the park is the place to go. I used the nice clean bathroom there, knowing that facilities in the coming days were likely to be a bit more rustic.

Coming up in part II of the trip journal: two days and half of my miles were on the Presidential Rail Trail, which extends from Whitefield to Gorham. The first day was cloudy, the second brilliantly sunny, and each was splendid. Part III will cover the serene walk along Hogan Road, a unique section of the Cross New Hampshire Adventure Trail.

You can help Granite State Walker get to the next trailhead, simply by clicking on Buy Me a Coffee. Thank you!

Turkeys at sunset

March 17, 2023 / 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.

A walker’s view of rail trails: video of Granite State Walker’s presentation to NHRTC conference

December 17, 2021December 16, 2021 / Ellen Kolb

The New Hampshire Rail Trails Coalition biennial conference went virtual this year, and the online environment didn’t get in the way of an informative event. I was invited by fellow NHRTC board members to talk for a few minutes about a walker’s view of the trails, and how even the slowest of users can become an enthusiastic advocate for rail trails. My presentation is now up on Vimeo, and I hope you’ll enjoy it.

The Granite State Walker Explores NH Rail Trails-Broadband High.mp4 from NH Rail Trails Coalition on Vimeo.

For all of you who have suffered through videoconference indignities this year, you’ll sympathize with the post-slide-show Q&A here featuring my deer-in-the-headlights reaction to someone’s unintentionally muted mic. Once that problem was solved, our ace moderator kept the questions flowing.

You can find other presentations from the conference at The New Hampshire Rail Trails Coalition Vimeo page.

Coos County Visit

September 3, 2018 / Ellen Kolb

Job responsibilities prevented a backpacking trip for me this season. I settled for four days of dayhikes in Pittsburg, way north in Coos County, New Hampshire. (CO-ahhs, if you please, in case you’re new here. Welcome.) I love the place.

Conditions: upper 80s, high humidity, overcast, with a low cloud ceiling that cut off views of nearly every peak in the area. On the other hand, I was there on quiet weekdays, and I had the solitude I craved on every road and trail.

Mount Magalloway (in cloud) and First Connecticut Lake. All photos in this post by Ellen Kolb.

Cohos Trail Segments

Covell Mountain really does not want to yield a trail this summer. There were signs of storm damage and logging. The mud made me glad I had shoes with a moisture-resistant lining. Grasses were growing high despite obvious efforts by trail adopters to keep them in check. Blazes were clear and plentiful, though, and I know I can thank those same trail volunteers for that.

There was a newly-fallen spruce across the trail, not far from a junction with a path marked Cattail Trail. The spruce refused to give way to the little knife I carried. All I got for my pains was a sappy blade. (If you need wires stripped, though, I’m down for that.)

Perhaps on a clearer and cooler day, I’d have kept going past Covell to Prospect Mountain, where on another trip I enjoyed a spectacular vista. This was not a week for great views, I thought, so I contented myself with an up-and-back hike on Covell.

As I returned to my car parked at the Ramblewood campground, I caught sight of Mt. Magalloway and a sliver of First Connecticut Lake. The summit was obscured by cloud and the lake reflected the gray sky: a striking monochrome landscape offered up by Covell Mountain, as if to thank me for putting up with its messy trail.

Second Connecticut Lake, at a low late-summer level.

Second Connecticut Lake is the most peaceful place in the world to me. It never disappoints, however short the visit. This time, I parked at the dam alongside U.S. 3 and followed the Cohos Trail north.

The trail soon intersected Idlewilde Road, and I turned for the five-minute detour to the Idlewilde boat ramp. On a hazy late-summer afternoon, I stood at the ramp on the lake’s shore all by myself, with a loon’s call the only sound I could hear.

Back on the trail, I took up the Chaput segment. It’s named for a couple I’ve never met who are famous to Cohos Trail veterans for their years of trail work. The segment is parallel to and very close to U.S. 3, but it gets hikers off the pavement. I’m a fan. I hiked the northern section of the Cohos Trail in 2009, and at that time the last ten miles of trail to the Canadian border were on the highway. Thanks to the efforts of many volunteers, that’s no longer the case.

“Lainie’s Lair,” on the Cohos Trail.

Along the Chaput segment, I found the little rocky overhang nicknamed Lainie’s Lair. That’s a fun tribute to another legendary Cohos Trail volunteer. Lainie brought me with her for a memorable day of trail work during my 2009 hike. I had a lot of enthusiasm for the task but zero skill. Lainie patiently coached me on things like how to use tools without hurting anyone and how not to freak out at the sight of bear scat. She could have accomplished a lot more that day in 2009 without me, but she was happy to be my guide. Nine years later, I smiled at the whimsical salute to her at the “lair.”

Sophie’s Lane is actually part of snowmobile corridor #5, and the Cohos Trail follows it beginning just south of Deer Mountain State Park. After being in the woods on a hot day, Sophie’s Lane was a relief. It was wide and open enough to catch a breeze that kept insects at bay. The lane leads to a spur to the site of an old fire tower, which is a side trip I didn’t take.

I liked the short spur to Moose Flowage, which is part of the Connecticut River south of Third Lake. It was a good spot for a break and a snack. It was a tempting place for a campsite as well, but signs sternly warned against any such notion. (The state park campground, accessible from U.S. 3, is just across the Flowage.)

snowmobile trail information kiosk, Pittsburg NH

Sophie’s Lane trail kiosk

The lane gradually narrowed the further north I walked. I stopped well short of the border, avoiding a walk through a long weedy stretch of trail. I passed a clearing with one boulder covered in street art. That jarred me. That painted rock somehow bothered me more than the relatively new cell tower at the north end of First Lake. It poked a big hole in the sense of isolation I expected in August on a snowmobile trail three miles from Quebec.

What I didn’t see along the way – not on Sophie’s Lane, and not anywhere else – was a moose. No bear or deer, either. I saw moose tracks in one muddy spot, but as for the beasts themselves, nada. Perhaps the heat kept them in hiding. Maybe I’m such a noisy hiker that I scare off everything larger than a mosquito. My presence didn’t bother the birds, though. It was a good week for seeing heron, hawks, and turkeys.

Pittsburg: the Village and Happy Corner

Broadband has come to the ‘burg, or at least parts of it. I stayed in the village – downtown Pittsburg, more or less – in a comfortable little cabin with WiFi and cell service. That sounds like an outrage, but I was able to walk by day and work online in the evenings. The trip wouldn’t have happened otherwise.

The snowmobile crowds are a few months away, people are buttoning up their camps for the season, and the summertime ATV vacationers have mostly returned to work and school. The town roads were thus quiet and inviting during my recent visit. As always in Pittsburg, the people I encountered were friendly and hospitable, ready to answer my questions and point me to interesting places.

A three-mile loop walk from my cabin at day’s end took me to Murphy Dam, Lake Francis, and Cedar Stream Road. A tranquil route, from start to finish. Had I moved east on Cedar Stream Road rather than west towards town, I’d have picked up a Cohos Trail segment leading to the east side of Lake Francis.

Lake Francis seen from Murphy Dam

Six miles north of the village, the crossroads known as Happy Corner makes a good base for a few Cohos Trail dayhikes and for exploration of town roads. I loved rambling with no schedule and no fixed route.

I found this along Hill-Danforth Road, and left it for the next person to enjoy.

Perry Stream at the River Road bridge.

The Happy Corner bridge is still open to automobiles, although none were in sight when I was there.

The old covered bridge on River Road has been bypassed, but visitors are welcome to take a break at the picnic table inside!

Road Tripping

I only get up this way once a year or so, and I try to make the most of the long drive. I drove a circuitous route on the way north in order to photograph a slew of North Country historical markers. Interesting sites, interesting history!

On a cloudy morning, the Cog Railway track seemed to disappear into Mount Washington.

That’s Mount Martha (Cherry Mountain) behind the Granny Stalbird marker in Jefferson.

Berlin boasts four markers, each featuring a different aspect of the city’s heritage.

My drive home was more direct, as I finally had to get back to watching the clock. But who could drive by Weeks State Park in Lancaster without stopping?

Looking north from the Mt. Prospect fire tower at Weeks State Park: Weeks home and the Percy Peaks.

Mt. Prospect’s one-of-a-kind fire tower.

Recovery: I couldn’t have done it alone

December 31, 2016December 30, 2016 / Ellen Kolb

After tripping on a parking-lot pothole and falling hard on my knee last February, I thought I’d lose a year of hikes. February’s a depressing month anyway and such dreary thoughts fit right in.

Flat trails have been blessings to me this year.

I was wrong. This has been a wonderful year, and I’m grateful for every mile on every hike. This has not been a year for many hilltops, but after using a cane for awhile during rehab, I developed a new appreciation for New Hampshire’s rail trails.

My resources for medical care were not unlimited (can you say “high deductible”?), so I had to be stingy about medical consultations. The ones I had were worth it. I’m grateful to the orthopedist who quickly ruled out a fracture & then encouraged me to keep my spirits up. I owe a lot to the physical therapist who helped me regain strength and balance. Along with the massage therapist who has worked with me for years and the pros at my local community acupuncture clinic, the doc & the PT got me back on the trails.

Hobbling up Pack Monadnock and partway up Kearsarge and Mt. Prospect left me feeling like I’d conquered the world. The Forest Society Challenge inspired me to find new places for walks, making boredom impossible. I managed about 300 miles of recreational walking and hiking this year, which is about 290 miles more than I thought possible right after my accident.

(Watch out for potholes. Seriously. And don’t run in the dark. Voice of experience here.)

This has been a year filled with blessings. May we all enjoy the same in 2017. See you on the Granite State’s trails.