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On a clear day in the wilderness, the only thing a hiker should wish to hear is the perfect sound of nothing. Silence
doesn’t sound like anything you’ve ever heard before. It takes a good deal of concentration and an awful lot of
physical space between you and the civilized world. Each year, I strike out into the wilds of New Hampshire listening
for the sound of nothing, and I’m sorry to report, I’m coming across a lot of static.
Last summer, my hiking partner Mo and I planned a day trip to Mount Chocorua in New Hampshire. Chocorua is considered small by mountain standards, but the trail begins closer to sea level than most trailheads, making the ascent long and strenuous. Chocorua is an eye catching cone shaped peak in the White Mountains and easily accessible from Route 16 and the Kancamangus Highway. Picturesque and rugged, it attracts a lot of visitors. Mo and I have been hiking together for almost a decade. We usually take care of the “catching up” discussion in the car on the way to the trailhead. Once in the woods, most conversation ends with the exceptions of wildlife observations and which direction to take. We’re both there for the same reason, to get away from the traffic and noise of our lives and back to basics. The natural world is amazingly complex, and we take to the woods to walk quietly among that other world for a few hours. It is like a pilgrimage for the soul, bringing an inner peace and a joining with nature. It is what saves me. The unforgiving trail consisted of steep woodlands, granite slabs, and large misplaced rocks along the trail. At times we were forced to drop to all fours, pulling our bodies close to the side of the mountain as we climbed. Trees became smaller and stunted, and the wind picked up, leaving us shivering. We had been sweating profusely as we worked our way up the mountain, and the wind chill was multiplied by our damp clothing. Stopping to rest, we pulled on windbreakers and surveyed the mountain. We were close now, the peak lay only 300 more yards ahead. We climbed, muscles straining with every step from weary legs. At last, we arrived at the summit. Scrambling to the geographical peak, I stood gazing over the rolling mountains, expanding in every direction. A sea of pine trees lay at my feet, and I stood proudly above it all with the wind racing past my ears.
The copyright of the article Calling Mother Nature: Cell Phones Can Take a Hike in Hiking in New England is owned by . Permission to republish Calling Mother Nature: Cell Phones Can Take a Hike in print or online must be granted by the author in writing.
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