Microadventures give me major satisfaction. These compressed experiences ignite interest in the wild spaces that surround our lives.
Each morning, we wake, wash, dress, eat, and then work or play in mostly predictable patterns. I spend my time mostly living reruns. On good days like today, the jailbreak in my heart launches me over that high perimeter wall.
I’m outside 80 minutes a day, riding my mountain bikes, or hiking almost every day, no matter the weather. My trusty Strava app tells me that I’ve only missed 8 days in 2016. I’m a big fan of walking or riding right out the door, rather than driving somewhere to engage with the outdoors.
There still is plenty on challenging terrain, around High Street. Here’s the field that was for sale in the mid-1970’s.
One of the big pluses of living here is the very large tracts of connected land (one of over 1,000 acres) that are undisturbed and unpopulated. If I walk a mile toward the neighboring town of Hope, the electric and phone cables end and so do the houses. You enter a wild zone as you trek along a leaf-canopied rural road with no overhead wires to be seen.
I’ve walked past this signpost tree hundreds of times.
Today, I finally remembered that I had received permission to walk the fields and woods that surround the isolated Moody Pond.
I stood there stunned for a minute or so before I turned off the road and went in.
What took me so long? I have walked here for almost 40 years but have never left the road right here before. Loons live here in the summer, when I hear their demented, haunting cries as they wing their way between Moody and Levensellar ponds.
I was immensely satisfied entering this new world.
What else do we miss as we wander around in a state of forget ?