I am not a hiker. If someone is trying to think of fun things to do, I would not be the one to raise my hand and say, “Let’s run up a mountain.” I do enjoy leisurely walks, on my own time and in my own space, from time to time. My biggest problem with hiking is that I focus intently on the task at hand, which means I’m looking on the ground a few feet in front of my boots and hustling up the hill (or down it, I suppose). For outdoor activities I like swimming and other things where I can feel weightless and take in the environment.
For Orientation Year we went on a hike up Mount Everett in the Taconic Mountains today. I was the tail end of the group the entire way up and a bit of a grumpy Gus to anyone who lagged behind and tried to make conversation. The hike wasn’t actually a bad one, despite being entirely up hill one way. It was rather short with an excellent view as a reward. There were even a few places to stop and take in the scenery, like Guilder Pond and a semi-summit with refuge cabin.
It was about 30 minutes away from the village, and is in Western MA. I love when I accidentally visit a different state. Despite my hacking cough and slight belly-aching I really did enjoy the hike up Mount Everett, but the hike down is what made it a spectacular day. On the way down Giselle and I talked about gnomes, and how this mountainside with all it’s small cavernous areas covered in moss was probably the perfect place for them to live.
While I love fairies and all things winged, I do have a soft spot for the cone-hatted little men and women that seem to have some type of special standing in anthroposophy. After all I was (and still am) considered the Roaming Gnome by my parents.