Four months ago, I retired. This felt like a big deal to me for the first few weeks.
Then, the November 2016 election happened. Whatever angst I was experiencing about my new lifestyle was overwhelmed by the feeling that the world had changed. I wanted to do something that would reattach me to my surroundings, so I started walking.
Over the many years that we’ve lived here, I’ve noticed the little blue-and-white signs along roads for the Ken Cuddeback Trail. The K.C. Trail markers seem to pop up in unexpected places and sometimes it’s not immediately clear where the trail picks up when it crosses a road. So I’ve been walking the trail in manageable segments, connecting the dots on my hiking map and exploring where the path looks discontinuous.
In many places, the trail is close to private homes or crosses private property. There is a mutual trust and responsibility in this arrangement. The owners of the property trust that their homes and property will not be disturbed.
We hikers are responsible for respecting boundaries, staying on the path and leaving nothing but footprints behind. The property owners and the hikers know nothing about each other’s race, gender, religion or political leanings. In the quiet of the woods, these things aren’t relevant.
It’s been hunting season, so when I go out into the woods for my explorations, I’ve been wearing my bright orange vest and hat. I trust that this will be enough to make me clearly recognizable as a nontarget. It may be an oversimplification, but I do feel relatively safe.
I’ve recently been asking myself, though, what do I need to do to feel “safe” outside of the woods and in the world at large?
I’ve been hopeful that my K.C. Trail walks will give me peace, solace, a sense of connection to the environment and to my neighbors along the trail whom I don’t know. It does seem to be working on most days.
I’ve got only one more piece of the K.C. Trail to complete and I’ll then have figured out all of those connections that weren’t clear at first. My big map shows other trails that need exploring — the Robert Frost, the Metacomet-Monadnock. I plan to keep walking.
Mary Ann Lowen, of Amherst, is a retired radiation oncologist.