By Jim Hoffman

Thursday, July 22, 2021

Growing up in my family back in Pennsylvania it was not a common practice to walk with no purpose.  We walked, sparingly, only as a means of dogged transportation.  But now I'm well past those years and living in Maine where the pace is a might slower, and which suits my slowing body just fine. 

So I began to hike about a year ago.  The pandemic allowed for more time to pursue this unlikely endeavor.  My sister several states away from here asked incredulously, "Who are you??"  Well, I can't say that Maine has changed me too much, but it has allowed for a leisurely walk in the woods and along the cliffs, something that I now embrace and enjoy.  This, coming from a heritage where taking in the outdoors meant mowing the lawn. 

Now I hike in fresh snow where the only traces of others are the coyote prints ahead of me, and I've hiked in the rain with a trash bag over my shoulders.  I've linked up with the area's conservancy and gone out with a spray can full of blue paint to blaze the trees on the Boot Head trail.  And now I'm going further afield to Acadia.  It's all good, and oddly gives me a sense of purpose.  Maybe I'll see you on the trails someday.

Meanwhile, see: Downeast Coastal Conservancy