On a recent weekend, my sister, niece, daughter and I introduced my two young grandchildren to the pleasures and challenges of hiking in the White Mountains. Chattering all the way up, they led us on the Old Bridle Path Trail to Greenleaf Hut, a trail known for its magnificent views, varied terrain and the infamous red rock section.
Upon arrival we rested, read, played cards, met folks of all ages and backgrounds, and finally sat down to a filling family style meal. The evening was cold and clear, posing little problem for bunking down.
Next morning we were treated to a multi-course breakfast and a very humorous and informative skit by the “Croo.” On the way back down, we skidded and scrambled by the seats of our collective pants, taking breathers on the flatter sections and at the lookouts. We exchanged greetings with a diverse hiking community of many abilities and ambitions, but everyone shared a common goal – to enjoy the outdoors.
It was wonderful to hear passing conversations in French, since many Canadians wander down to the Whites, eschewing our current administration’s animosity toward our true friends north of the border. At the trailhead, a family passed by speaking Taiwanese, an assumption from the father’s T-shirt. A multi-family gathering had stopped by the hut to refresh and recharge, and I couldn’t help but take joy in their warmth and togetherness. I also noted that occasion to weep silently for the separated families in detention centers in the South and for the children still disconnected these many months later. When will this end?
JANET MOORE
Andover