While in New Hampshire - Part I

(Working title option 1: The Day Zoey Became a Service Dog)

(Working title option 2: Why to Begin a Hike at the Trail's Head)

We arrived at the Dry River Campground in Crawford Notch State Park late afternoon Monday. It was a nice campground with about thirty large spots surrounded by large hardwood trees. I got a trail map of the area from the Ranger-less Ranger station and studied how we might hike to one of the waterfalls that this area is known for. The map indicated that there were two approaches to the waterfall trail. One was to walk 0.5 mile along the highway to that particular trailhead. The other approach was to take what the map called a, "connector trail" that started at the back of the campground and ran 0.6 mile thru the woods ending at the desired trailhead.  I opted to take the slightly longer hike thru the woods and avoid the highway. 

Zoey and I easily found where the connector trail connected to the campground and began to follow the blue marks painted on the trees. It was a level path and I smiled at how easy this trail was to follow and how seemingly unnecessary the blue markers seemed to be. Soon, however, the trail took a turn and crossed a boulder field. These large granite boulders are the remains of glacial melting eons ago, leaving behind these huge river rocks. Also adding to the challenge were many large fallen trees that also now lay like debris in our path.  Once we were out of this boulder field, we resumed following the blue marks, which were now fewer and further between. Between the exposed tree roots, deep underbrush and the persistent river rocks on steroids, the trail was now a physical challenge.  The path was not nearly as discernible. I tried to walk towards a blue mark and stop there until I could spot the next blue mark before proceeding deeper into these woods.  A few times, though, this was not possible. No blue mark could be seen in the distance. These trail markers were no longer just on trees. Sometimes the mark was on a boulder. Other times it was painted directly on the rock where we walked. I would scan in one direction looking first high, and then low. Then in another direction, looking high, then low. When I could not spot the next blue mark, I found something notable in the spot where i stood, and then counted out my paces into the woods, turning to retrace my steps if my effort did not result in locating a blue trail marker. 

After over an hour of walking like this, I finally came upon a trail sign. Much to my dismay, it read my destination remained 0.5 miles ahead. How could we have walked for an hour and only advanced 0.1 mile? I later learned there were three different connector trails and I had somehow manged to navigate from one to the other, mid hike. I did take some comfort in knowing that we were, at least, still walking in the right direction. 

Our trek continued to become increasingly more difficult with the underbrush becoming thicker. I got off course at one point. I scanned and paced and scanned again. But no blue marks. So I paced off more steps and scanned again. Then paced off even more steps.  I turned to retrace my steps to the last known blue mark and was unable to locate it. I began to feel a sense of panic, right before I found a big blue mark on the ground, one I did not see before.  I looked ahead in the direction I thought the trail must go, and spotted another blue mark in the distance. We were back on the path!

I dropped Zoey's leash and let her follow freely behind me.  I was fairly certain we were the only ones in these woods and holding on to her leash while navigating over rocks and trees and exposed roots was becoming hazardous. However, her leash now dragging created sounds that had me turn around frequently thinking I was hearing someone approaching from behind. After about a half dozen unnecessary stops to turn around and canvass the woods behind us, only to find nothing, I began to ignore these sounds. We continued to shinny ourselves up over boulders and downed trees.

Then I realized I no longer heard Zoey behind me. I turned around to call her and was startled to see a man standing several yards behind me holding on to Zoey.

I said, "Oh! You scared me!"

He laughed and said, "Such a good dog." Then he let go of her leash and she came quickly towards me. I was annoyed by him not apologizing for frightening me and perplexed by him holding on to Zoey. The man continued to approach. He was wearing hiking gear and carried a day pack, so his presence in these woods seemed intentional, which gave me some reassurance. 

"I didn't hear you come up behind me," I said, offering him another chance to apologize for his poor hiking etiquette. Again he ignored me. Then I noticed he was wearing ear buds so I reasoned he probably didn't hear my admonishments. Once he was passed us and was a few yards ahead I said (assuming he wouldn't hear this either), "Will these woods ever end?"

"Eventually," he called back, while still in full stride into the trees ahead.

"Ass hole," I muttered.

Zoey was eager to follow this man. I didn't blame her. He looked like he knew where he was going - - and I obviously did not. I held on to her leash and let him get ahead and out of sight before proceeding.  I kept looking for the blue marks while Zoey held her nose firmly to the ground obviously tracking the man who we encountered. Not too soon after, I lost sight of the blue marks again and resumed my methodical pacing and retracing process. At one point, Zoey jerked me to the left in a direction that didn't feel right, but when I looked up, there was the elusive blue mark. I decided I'd let her lead and she confidently led me to the next blue mark. 

And the next. 

And the next.

It was Zoey's nose that got us out of those woods and back to the road where this connector trail supposedly officially started. Unlike my trail map, the trail's head had a warning posted: "Due to heavy rains in this area, portions are washed out. Take care and be sure to tell someone of your hiking plans before proceeding." 

It took us three and half hours to slog our way through these woods to the road. We still had the waterfall trail to hike. I looked at Zoey and she at me. We walked back to the campsite instead.