Walking

My grandparents' neighborhood was a familiar one to me as a child. A few other relatives lived nearby and I remember playing with some of the neighborhood kids a few houses down. But when I was about 10 years old, I once caused a panic by leaving my grandparents' house for a walk to the edge of their neighborhood.

The story, as I remember it, was that my uncle took a dog for a walk. I don't remember if it was his dog, or a dog he was watching, but they went for a walk. At first, I didn't want to go, but soon after they left I changed my mind and decided I would just try to catch up. The remaining details of the story are fuzzy to me now, but I do remember seeing my uncle a way up ahead on a path heading into the woods by the river. I don't think I called out to him and probably figured I would just catch up so I went into the woods, too. But I never found my uncle. I passed a number of other people, most of them heading in the opposite direction and back out into the neighborhood.

Different trail near the same area
CNY Hiking

This particular path followed the southern bank of the Mohawk River, a tributary of the Hudson River, which flows from Oneida County in Central New York (near where my grandparents lived) east to the Hudson near Albany. It was summer and the path was vibrant and verdant. I remember a big boulder or two and not thinking much about how far I must have walked, or how long I had been gone until I reached the end of the path by a major road. I quickly turned around and made good speed back to the entrance of the trail where I met up with a very worried family. I don't remember if the police were involved in searching for me, but do remember that I had left the family in that kind of panic.

This "exploring" - as I called it as a child - was something I did frequently. Some times it was a walk on the path through the woods behind my house; often it was a trek across neighborhoods on my bike. No matter the method of travel, these journeys make for some of my most enjoyable memories. Of course for these jaunts I made sure to let someone know where I was going. Once among the trees, I would see how far I could go before I couldn't see my house any more. I also tried to get "lost" and orient myself with familiar sites like friends' houses that backed up to the woods, the river path (the Seneca River, this time), or even the sewage treatment plant located deep in the forest. I continued the practice in college with walks along the Niagara River Gorge and even took to the mountains with friends during summer breaks. I even climbed peaks that, in retrospect, I was ill-equipped to manage. I've been on top of a few of the High Peaks in the Adirondack Park, but the pinnacle of these climbs was Mt. Washington in New Hampshire at 6,289 feet thanks in large part to my childhood friend who makes his living as a mountaineer and guide in Alaska for nearly 20 years now. My boneheaded stubbornness, and a youthful ignorance, also helped. Most people train before attempting these kinds of hikes, but I just went out and did it. (Although I've been mollified in this by learning that Theodore Roosevelt did much the same thing in conquering the peaks of the Adirondacks and even the Matterhorn!)

All this to say that I am looking forward to walking again. It has been years since I've made a habit of it and while there can be a number of excuses why I haven't, perhaps it is best to say that our neighborhood is full of nature and very easy to explore: a good start to get back in the habit. The hikes I've taken with my Cub Scouts have encouraged me, too. And who knows... maybe I will wind up tackling another mountain, or two.