I’ve been busy the past few months.
My day job has been spilling into night as times, I try to get outdoors as much as I can and maintain an active social life. And my outdoor related projects (volunteer work, writing projects, this website) has become a de facto part time job.
I’m not complaining.
But a vacation is being looked forward to very much.
I am flying back to Rhode Island. I’ll meet my new niece, catch up with the rest of my good sized extended family and see some of my oldest friends.
And I’ll eat.
I plan to indulge in some fresh seafood. I’ll sit by the ocean with a good book. I’m sure a good Italian bakery will be hit once or twice for some delicious spinach or eggplant pies to go with the book by the ocean.
I’ll wash it down with Del’s.
But if Rhode Island defined my formative years, New Hampshire is what started the path to my current life.
A backpacking trip I took in 1996 was, quite literally, the first step to the life I live now.
The outdoors has not become a hobby.
It is a passion. A love. Something I need in my life.
And it all started with first summer of backpacking in New Hampshire.
That lead to hiking Vermont’s Long Trail in 1997, the Appalachian Trail in 1998 and then ultimately moving to Colorado.
And my life has not been the same since.
Before I visit the family, I’ll be backpacking in New Hampshire. I’ll be joined by the same friend who was with me twenty years ago for that first trip. Weather wise, Saturday looks terrible. But I am sure we’ll manage something.
Looking forward to those craggy peaks, deep and lush woods and if not true wilderness, then at least a bit of New England wildness.
It is a home coming of a different sort.