the little flower that

heralds the beginning of the end

of winter.

Every year I wait anxiously for my first glimpse of the first perennials that remind me that the days are getting longer now.

After two years of living in Bristol, I know where to look for them to start blooming.

Hello snowdrops.
I’m so delighted that you’ve arrived.

They bloom just outside the library and on the way to the park where I walk Poppy.

There are a few favorite walks in the Cotswolds where I’ve seen them blooming before, and now that I’ve spotted them in town, I want to head to the woods to find the patches that I know are there.

The boys walk right by them, sometimes not even noticing.

Snowdrops start out looking like tiny little upside down tulip blooms.

When they open their petals like wings ready to fly, they are telling me I’ve made it through the deepest part of winter.

Soon all sorts of flowers will be in bloom and I will walk in the light again.

Nothing keeps me as close to the rhythm of the seasons quite like walking.

Throughout the year, my steps on the ground are my fingers on the changing pulse of the days.

I never stop wondering at the way I can know the next day will come.

A new day.

A season ending and another one beginning.

A fresh bloom.

And even though I catch glimpses of snowdrops pushing up from the cold, hard ground in exactly the places I expect them to be,

somehow they still manage to surprise me.

What a wonder.

The post Searching for Snowdrops appeared first on Alison Chino.

The Fisherman’s Trail

Zambujeira do Mar to Odeceixe 18.5 km/11.4 miles  

You can find all of the Rota Vicentina posts here. 

Rain was predicted on our last day of walking the Rota Vicentina, but the host at Hostel Nature told us that it would not rain.

He was right. We woke up to blue skies, yet again.

After a quick breakfast of coffee, yogurts and bananas, we hit the road.

From Zambujeira do Mar, you descend to the beach and then climb back up out of the cove for views back towards the sea town.

Zambujeira do Mar is for sure a place I would enjoy spending some more time. Anna and I said we would love to go back there one day.

But now we were headed south towards Odeceixe, our final stop on the Fisherman’s Trail, at least for now.

The trail continues south and continues to meander along beautiful coastline.

We spotted more storks hanging out on rocks, and we passed more deserted beaches.

We moved a bit slower on this final morning, just soaking everything in.

Neither of us really wanted to leave Portugal. It seemed like we had made an unspoken pact to take this final day as slow as possible in order to enjoy every minute.

When the path descended again and crossed a wide beach, we walked all the way out to the water.

We took off our shoes and put our feet in the sea.

The water was cold enough that we didn’t want to get all the way in, but it felt good on our toes.

We sat down at a little beach cafe that was closed for the season in order to brush the sand from our feet and put our boots back on. There were signs for a surfing camp and school, which we thought would be another fun way to spend time in this part of the Portugal.

On our next ascent, we followed the trail away from the sea and around a large private wildlife park.

We’d been told that a wealthy man keeps a lot of African animals in this wildlife park near the trail, so we were watching for it. It was hard to see because the trail follows a tall fence, but in the distance you can spot zebras, antelopes and water buffalos. Kind of crazy.

That part of the trail is a bit overgrown, so we were glad when the route left the wooded area and took us back out to the water.

About mid-morning we reached a place on the trail where a kind of plateau jutted out into the water, so that you could stand on it and see the curves of two beach coves, one behind and one ahead at the same time.

We decided to stop and rest there for a while. We had a snack while we watched the storks and other sea birds fly all around us.

We both took videos from this spot because it was so gorgeous.

I think we were a bit tired from the previous days of walking, so the rest was welcome.

We kept commenting on what a perfect day it was.

We knew we had been so fortunate with the weather all week and this day was no exception. Some clouds rolled in now and then, and just when would think maybe we were going to get a little rain, they would part and clear.

Again, since it was our last day, I spent more time looking at the vegetation and flowers.

Also we had seen on the map that there was a small town about half way through this section of the trail.

We were excited and hopeful that there would be an opportunity for a lunch stop in the town.

I reflected on what a gift the whole week had been, what a beautiful start it was to a new year. I’m super close to my sister, and we catch up regularly on the phone, but to have a whole week of being able to walk and talk was such a treat.

Expansive time for conversation is a delight. To tell stories. To dream. To confess.

And then we had times of walking along in silence as well.

It’s for space like this that I so appreciate these long walks. The trail holds equal space for all the talking and all the silence. And I need both.

At the end of the walking days, if we were lagging, we would sometimes share a set of headphones and listen to a podcast together.

After our short rest, we carried on a few more miles before spotting the town:

A Azenha do Mar…which I believe translates to the seat of the sea.

We entered by way of The Fisherman’s Street.

And then we found our restaurant.

It was quite busy and they said they only had tables left outside!

We found that so funny because of course we wanted to sit outside.

Since we were outside, Anna could discreetly dump all the sand out of her boots!

We ordered up too much gorgeous seafood, and then of course we ate it all!

Plus dessert!

We had a long, lovely lunch, and even had coffees afterwards. Almost too full to walk, we eventually dragged ourselves away from the sun-soaked terrace of A Ahenza do Mar.

Onward to the final stretch.

One more beautiful afternoon of walking by the sea.

The walking with a full belly was a bit challenging, but we were up for it.

I had to rest a bit on the tops of hills.

Soon the little town that was seated by the sea disappeared behind us.

And the blue sky opened up in every direction. The clouds of the morning were long gone.

The last stretch along the sea was beautiful, like every stretch along the sea so far.

We followed these sandy footpaths until we could see Praia de Odeceixe.

The destination for this stage of the trail is Odeceixe, but the Praia de Odeceixe is a few kilometers out from the town.

When you reach the Praia (the beach), you are actually on the wrong side of a river that keeps you from being able to walk straight on to the beach.

The trail twists and turns down to the river, and it’s at this point that we had to say farewell to the sea.

From here, you turn inland and follow the river to Odeceixe.

You walk along the road for at least a couple of miles to get to town. Lots of folks say this bit at the end of the day is not their favorite on this stage, but we didn’t mind it too much.

The sun was out and we were still floating from our delicious seafood lunch by the water.

When we crossed the river and headed into the town, we realized we were the last of our small party of walkers to arrive that day.

Our Dutch friend had arrived at our shared apartment well before us.

And Jan was sitting in the square having drinks and wondering where we were.

We had a quick shower and a rest in our cute apartment. Then we all four went out for a final dinner.

We had such a good time visiting and talking about the walk. I still wasn’t hungry so I ordered a salad and split something with Anna.

The next morning when we woke up, it was cloudy and raining! We couldn’t believe it!

After a quick coffee and breakfast on the square, we caught a bus back to Lisbon from Odeceixe.

We said our fond farewells to Portugal the next morning, but we both said we would be back before too long!

And I meant it! I am heading back to the Fisherman’s Trail this week! I’m going to get a bus to Odeceixe and pick up right where I left off.

This time I will (hopefully) make it all the way to lighthouse at the far southwest corner of Portugal.

I can’t wait to see what is in bloom two months later.  I wonder if the storks have built their nests in the rocks. Also I’ve heard that you can spot dolphins in the springtime. My trusty pack is ready to go and the trail is calling!

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The Fisherman’s Trail

Vila de Nova Milfontes to Almograve 15.5 km/9.6 miles  

You can find all of the Rota Vicentina posts here. 

After a substantial breakfast at our hostel in Vila de Nova Milfontes, we headed back out onto the coastal trail. We had a shorter day today, under 10 miles to Almograve.

First, we walked inland along the River Mira, away from the sea.

It’s about a 3 kilometer detour inland to cross the bridge and walk back out to the coast, which isn’t too far, but it’s for sure not the most pleasant part of the day. You’re basically walking along a highway.

From the bridge, you can see Vila de Nova Milfontes in the distance. After you cross, you walk through forest and farmland to get back out to the sea.

In the busier season, you can hop on a boat to cross the river and save yourself the detour, which could mean you reach Almograve before lunch and might consider walking a bit further.

But soon enough, we were back by the sea again and headed into the beach dunes.

It was another gorgeous day in the sunshine with spectacular sea views.

We climbed up to the cliffs above the sea again and walked the winding trail that dipped into the land and back out to the sea all morning.

The Fisherman’s Trail is quite well-marked with these blue and green striped markers. Sometimes there are red and yellow markings as well but those are a different part of the Rota Vicentina.

We were more ready with supplies on this day. We’d stopped at the store for snacks and we had extra water, which was good because we didn’t pass any open restaurants or shops all day.

The trail turned inland for a while and took us through a forest.

We also walked alongside some farmland for a stretch.

This day was going to be one of our shortest, but as we turned inland and walked along a farm, somewhere along the way I missed the clear markings and we walked inland much further than we were meant to.

We both had gotten in our groove and were just marching on forward, but in the wrong direction. When I finally realized it, we turned around and of course on the way back we noticed that there was a green and blue X indicating that we were not to go in that direction.

Whoops!

Since I turned our 10 mile day into a 13 mile day, it was a good thing we packed snacks.

We made it back to the sea side and walked along the coast for the rest of the day. This part of the trail had very sandy paths. For a while, Anna took off her shoes and walked barefoot. She said it made it a little easier and we had seen one other man pass us walking north in bare feet. But my ankles are so unsteady that I didn’t risk coming out of my boots.

It was a such beautiful afternoon. Heather was blooming all along this section.

One of the highlights of the Rota Vicentina is the flora on the path, but I didn’t expect there to be flowers in bloom in January.

But I was wrong. We spotted quite a few flowers along the trail.

Of course, for sure there are loads more flowers in the spring, which would be a great time to walk it.

Towards the end of our day, we reached a big wide of expanse of beach. We continued to walk along the cliff above the beach and turned back inland to reach our destination for the day: Almograve.

We were staying in a small guest house and our host’s mother was meant to meet us, but we went first for lunch at a restaurant called Churrasqueira Isa that she recommended that was right behind the guest house.

It was 2:30pm when we sat down to lunch. We ordered the special of the day, a fish called Dourada, which is sea bream. It came whole on the plate with vegetables and it was delicious. We devoured it hungrily.

While we were sitting in the restaurant after lunch, our hostess from the guest house came and found us. She treated us each to a small glass of the traditional Portuguese liqueur made from sour cherries: Ginjinha.

Then we headed off to our room for showers and naps.

We walked back down to the beach to watch the sunset before exploring Almograve’s restaurant scene.

It was another beautiful night. We kept marveling at the views and how we seemed to have them all to ourselves, sharing them with a lone fisherman or two.

We found a small place to eat, Torralta, that just had a chalkboard with what was on offer for the day. The menu was fairly meat-heavy so I explained that I don’t eat meat. I said in very broken Portuguese that I would love a big salad, and maybe some fries. A farmer who was hanging out at the restaurant helped the cook by taking our order and serving us drinks.

When he came back from the kitchen he said that the cook could make us falafel along with our other requests. He told us that she is a great cook and really she can make you whatever you want.

We really had no idea what we ended up ordering but when our food came, it was perfect. The salad was gorgeous and we ate all our fries and falafel along with it. We washed it all down with a couple of Portuguese beers (Sagres) and of course, one more shot of the local liqueur, this one homemade from the cook’s own grape skins.

So far everyone in Portugal was so friendly and welcoming.

We laughed as we fell asleep about my communicating with our impromptu waiter. Between his broken English, my broken Portuguese and a lot of hand motions, we made it work.

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The Fisherman’s Trail

Porto Covo to Vila de Nova Milfontes 20 km/12.5 miles

Anna and I arrived in Porto Covo in the dark on a bus from Lisbon to begin our journey on the Rota Vicentina.

It was a chilly January evening and we wandered the streets to find some dinner before heading to bed. I always find it hard to sleep when I am about to begin a new adventure.

We woke up to pink skies over the village of Porto Covo, and after a quick bite of breakfast, we headed out to begin our walk.

The pink sky turned bright blue before our eyes. Between the sun and the walking, we quickly warmed up, feeling smug about what a good choice it was to come to Portugal in January.

The Rota Vicentina is a network of walking routes in Portugal that includes the Fishermen’s Trail and the Historical Way (as well as several circular routes that are day hikes). It was named after the Costa Vicentina Natural Park, a protected coastal area in the south of Portugal where most of the trails are situated.

The Rota Vicentina is a fairly new trail in Portugal. Most of the trails have been there for a long time, but the linking of them together and the promotion of it as a national trail has only been around for a decade or so. Of course fishermen have accessed the trail for ages, as well as beach goers, but it is only recently being discovered as a long-distance trail for tourist walkers like me. I mention this because one of the things Anna and I marveled at every day was how it seemed like we had the entire trail to ourselves. We met very few other walkers, and passed more empty beaches than we could count. (I do think some of the beaches fill up in the warmer seasons.)

The views along the trail out to the sea are so gorgeous that I think this trail will quickly grow in popularity. In fact, the trail association is actively promoting it in travel fairs across Europe this year. All that to say, if you’re looking for an incredibly beautiful, but quiet coastal trail, get yourself out to Portugal soon to walk the Rota Vicentina!

As we set out, we made our way to the restaurant we had found the night before that was overlooking the sea.

From there we followed the signs into the bright blue day.

The first hour or so we were taking photos non-stop. We just couldn’t believe the beauty.

Since Anna and I had both traveled from dark, winter climates, we were so excited to strip off layers in the sun. If we stopped, we would cool down quickly but as long as we were moving, we were plenty warm.

The trail twists and winds along the cliff edges, often dipping deep into the land to circle around a cove or a place where the sea has cut into the rocks.

For the first hour we watched an island in the distance get closer and closer.

Soon, we could see that there was some sort of fortress on the island.

Much of this trail was on sandy pathways, which can be a bit slow going.

At one point the trail dipped all the way down to cross a wide empty beach.

After walking across the flat beach, we climbed back up above the sea.

Like many coastal trails, this is a theme, you dip down and then go back up. Then down and back up.

It is strenuous but somehow, it doesn’t feel as hard as when you are mountain climbing. On the Via Alpina, for example, most days you climb all morning and then descend all afternoon.

If feels better to me to have the up and down broken up all day long. You almost don’t have time to grow tired of one before you switch to the other.

And then of course, you also get long stretches that are almost level along the cliffs.

And again, I cannot overstate how incredible the scenery is on the Rota Vicentina!

On our first day, we didn’t plan well for how few facilities are along this trail between the stages.

There really isn’t even a place to get water. We passed a couple of beachside cafes that were closed for the winter. We still had over 3 km to go and we were out of water when we passed the last one, but Anna found a hose behind it that we used to fill up our water bottles. Lesson learned: We would definitely carry more water for the rest of the days.

We had a few energy bars with us as well, and we were glad.

We powered through the final miles after our water was refilled and soon we were sitting at a cafe in our destination: Vila de Nova Milfontes.

After a drink, we walked through town to find our hostel.

We stayed at a place called Selina that we really enjoyed. It’s a chain of hostels…there is actually one in Chicago!

The Selina in Milfontes had a rooftop lounge where you could sit and watch the sunset over the sea.

And they had a hot tub! We were delighted to make this discovery and headed there quick after checking in.

In the hot tub, we chatted to the only other gal we had seen on the trail that day. She was from Holland, walking the trail by herself.

After we watched the sunset, we went into town to find some dinner.

Per the recommendation of the waiter at Paparoca, we had the special of the day: Pataniscas bacalhau com arroz de feijão

Like many traditional Portuguese dishes, salted cod is the main ingredient. You mix the fish with flour and egg and fry it into a kind of fish pancake. You serve it with beans and rice. It was delicious. We also ordered salad and house wine.

We were grateful to our host for his recommendation and told him how much we loved it.

With happy, full bellies, we headed back to the hostel. We sat in the common room for a while and played a few games. Then we crawled into our beds to rest up for the next day.

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November started for me with a bit of a wobble.

A low spot, if you will.

I was finding it hard to get out for a walk.

Honestly, I was finding it hard to get out of bed.

I belong to a WhatsApp chat for my neighborhood that mainly consists of folks looking for packages that have been delivered to the wrong address.

But one day I checked the chat and someone who had been working remotely during the pandemic was going back into the office a couple of days a week, and they were looking for someone to keep their dog.

I had met their black lab once before and knew she that she was lovely.

Well-behaved. Gorgeous. And exactly what I needed.

I raised my hand and begged for the company of their canine companion two days a week, and that’s how Monday and Wednesday have become Poppy Days at my house.

No matter what the weather is like, Poppy loves a good, long walk.

She does not mind the rain or the cold. She thinks getting outside is the most exciting idea she’s ever heard.

Even if we just did it two days ago, she looks at me like she’s won the lottery. She does a happy dance when I put treats in my pocket and put on my jacket.

She waits almost-patiently while I bundle in scarf and mittens, and then lace up my boots.

And then we’re off in a flash down the street, like the world is new and exciting, and ohmygoodness, what are we going to find today?!

Poppy’s delight in going for a walk is fuel in my tank.

It was 23 degrees F when we left yesterday to go out. That is colder than I like to be. That is long underwear plus jeans on bottom and two wool shirts, a sweater, a fleece, a puffy jacket and a hat on top.

But I will keep walking on Poppy Days even if I skip my walk on other days, and that’s why I’m just as glad to see Poppy as she is to see me.

When we come home from our walk, Poppy sits at my feet while I work and drink tea.

I didn’t have to train her or clean up after her as a puppy.

I can even let her off the lead to run around (with great joy) in a field, and she will faithfully come back to me.

I truly cannot think of a better arrangement.

Rain or snow, here we come.

Mini Walking Stories is a project I’m doing this month to catalog a fabulous year of walking. During December, I’m inviting you to come along with me for a few minutes on one of the walks I took in 2022. Read more stories here.

The post Mini Walking Stories: Meet Poppy appeared first on Alison Chino.

~80 miles

5 days

Alternative title for this section of the OT:

We Couldn’t Have Done It Without You, Dad

Seriously, from the moment my dad join us, we plowed through the miles every day.

He would move all the gear in his truck and we hiked only with day packs on.

It’s just weird how much faster you can hike without a giant pack.

DAY 8

16.5 miles to FS Road 76 (MM 85.5)

We woke up before dark. It was a super cold morning (31 degrees!) We quickly powered up with coffee and bars before packing up. My dad loaded everything he could carry onto his pack and hiked the mile back down to his truck.

The sun was just starting to come up and you could tell it was going to be a beautiful day!

Kandace and I headed on down the trail, feeling light! 

We hiked 10 miles before lunch. I could not believe it. Plus my joints were just so happy with less weight. My ankle was thanking me all day.

In addition to lighter packs, there were fewer rocks on this part of the trail. Softer footbeds + lighter packs = A great day on the trail!

We had tuna for lunch, much improved with some mayo and mustard packets we got at the Queen Wilhelmina Lodge. And we still had leftover cookies and pj&j’s from lunch with our friends the day before. Everything tasted amazing as always.

After lunch we climbed to the top of a ridge where we could see for miles.

The sun was so bright and warm that we hiked without coats on for the first time. It was glorious.

My dad found a spot to camp near a forest service road and then hiked back toward us from the other direction. He met us around Mile Marker 82.

I didn’t realize how far we still had to go after he met us. We had been walking so fast all day that I didn’t realize how tired I was. I kind of hit a wall about a mile after we met up with Dad, so it was a push to get those last few miles. But Dad had cold beers waiting for us in the truck when we arrived.

We set up camp in a clearing just off the forest road. Dad made shrimp and grits for dinner, one of his camping specialties.

Then we sat by the fire and watched the stars come out.

It was a super cold night, so we were grateful to be in a tent. It was so much warmer than being in the shelters. Plus we had luxuries like blow up mattresses and pillows!

Also the coyotes were active all night long. I woke up several times to their shrieks. Often it sounded like they were right outside our tent. I was grateful for a bit more of a barrier between us and them.

Day 9

7:30am-3pm Hiked 15.4 miles to Fiddler Creek Shelter (MM 100.9)

The next morning, it was still cold. But it was wonderful to wake up by the car and get to have eggs and orange juice for breakfast.

Dad told us he would break camp and we could go ahead and get on down the trail. We were pumped that we were going to hit the 100 Mile Marker on this day!

Between us we headed off with one little day pack.

We continued along more gentle pine needle footbeds as the sun came out and the sky turned all blue again.

Another gorgeous day!

Again we climbed higher up to views of the Ouachita Mountains.

With the leaves off in the winter, you can see for miles and miles.

Then we dropped back down to a valley and to Big Bushy Campground where Dad met up with us for lunch.

We stayed well-fed from this point of the trail on. And a beer with lunch, yes, I don’t mind if I do.

We continued after lunch back up out of the valley.

Again, we were logging way more miles without packs on.

All day we anticipated the 100 mile marker, getting closer and closer to the goal.

This might have been our prettiest day yet. And even though we woke up to 29 degree temperatures, the afternoon brought sunshine and warmth.

We celebrated with swigs of whiskey at the 100 mile mark!

And just a little further down the trail, we found Dad and our shelter for the night.
We got there around 3pm, so we had a good bit of daylight left to enjoy being in camp.

We had fried rice with shrimp and fish for dinner as the sun was setting on the hillside.

Fiddler Creek turned out to be one of our favorite shelters. We loved how it is situated on the hill.

We enjoyed the fire pit until we were too cold to stay out any longer, and the three of us had the shelter to ourselves.

We could still hear the coyotes in the distance, but they weren’t near as close as they had been the night before. Still, when we went to sleep, Dad put one of the hiking poles near his sleeping bag, just in case.

Day 10

7am-4:30pm Hiked 17.8 miles to Forest Service Road 149 near Muddy Creek (MM 118.7)

We woke up early to get going for a long day.

We quickly downed coffee, eggs and bagels and then we were on our way.

From Fiddler Creek Shelter, you head downhill immediately to Fiddler Creek.

We stopped just long enough to refill our water at the creek.

We used a steri-pen for water on our whole trip. It worked great and we were thrilled to not have to carry a pump or anything else more substantial.

The steri-pen is an ultraviolet light that sterilizes any invisible critters so they can’t wreak havoc on your digestive system. I’ve used it now for several backpacking trips without ever getting sick, so I’m a big fan.

It was another gorgeous blue sky day!

Dad kept telling us to enjoy it because the weather was supposed to turn later in the week, so we were soaking it up.

We reached Suck Mountain Shelter at 10:45am! We weren’t even hungry enough yet to eat lunch, but we had to stop and enjoy the sun (58 degrees!) for a minute in these chairs. Suck Mountain is one of the only shelters we saw with chairs! Such a treat!

We stopped later in the woods for lunch at around 1pm.

As we ate, I looked at the map and figured out we had 4.5 miles left to go to Story Creek Shelter.

The trail went up and down more time than I could count before we reached the shelter. We were exhausted when we finally made it there around 3pm.

We were planning on staying there for the night.

Story Creek Shelter was built in memory of the son and nephew of some of our dear friends, so we were looking forward to seeing it.

It’s a beautiful shelter, happily situated in a valley near Story Creek.

Dad was there when we got to the shelter, but he hadn’t been able to get his truck close enough to get our camping gear to the shelter. So he said we were going to camp somewhere else, but first we needed to hike back up to his car.

Kandace and I were so tired that we intentionally didn’t make eye contact. We just sighed and kept going.

We climbed the 2 and 1/2 miles out of the valley and back up to the ridge, walked through more trails and more woods and finally, when it felt like we were losing the sun, we saw the car.

We ended up setting up camp almost right on the trail at a spot near the Forest Service Road where the car was parked, near Muddy Creek.

We fell into seats by the fire, where we gobbled up our dinner and chatted in the firelight for as long as we could hold our eyes open.

Then we crawled into bed so very tired from our 18 mile day.

If there were coyotes nearby, I never heard them.

Day 11

8am-3:30pm Hiked 15 miles to Forest Service Road 78 (MM 133.5)

We started a little slower on this day since we were still tired from the previous day’s miles.

We even had a morning fire and a slower breakfast. Extra cups of coffee. 

I do love a slow camp morning.

It was also a sign that the weather was warmer since we weren’t feeling like we had to hurry and get moving in order to stay warm.

It turned out to be our most gorgeous day.

At 72 degrees, it felt like summer.

Our freezing cold river days felt so far behind us now.

My body (especially my feet) was sore and tired from the day before, but I just kept walking.

We hit more milestones and trailheads. It was amazing how the miles just kept piling up.

We walked through lots of pine forest on this day, again heading up to ridges with views all around.

Sunshine and blue skies make us happy!

I spent a lot of my summer days as a child swimming in Lake Ouachita and we were getting closer to being able to see the lake from the hills. I remember all along the way to the lake there are rock shops because there are so many crystals and collectible rocks in the Ouachita Mountains.

We started spotting rocks that I might have seen in a road side rock shop as a child, if we had ever stopped at one.

We had our lunch at Irons Fork crossing. I soaked my ankle in the cold water and enjoyed the sun on my face.

I have seen this bridge covered in water before in other hikers’ photos so I was grateful we’d had a few days without rain now and we were able to just walk right across.

The trail climbs again after Irons Fork, so we pushed on back up into the hills.

One foot in front of the other until the trail leveled out again on the ridge top.

We reached Round Mountain Vista sometime around 3pm and then it was an easy descent to a clearing near a forest road where my dad was already set up to camp.

It was such a treat to not be freezing cold. Even after the sun dropped, the temperature hovered around 50. Balmy compared to some of our other nights on the trail.

The wonderful thing about Arkansas in December is that you can have such a wild range of temperatures in just a few days.

We were a little sad to see the sun go down on this perfect day. We knew the weather was changing (we would see rain and snow before we finished the OT), but we didn’t know that it was the last time we’d see blue sky and sunshine on our trip.

We soaked it up while it lasted!

We stayed up by the fire, reading our maps and planning our next few days. We decided that we would get up early and break camp before the rain came in.

Our hike the next day was supposed to take us to the top of Ouachita Pinnacle.

Instead, my dad suggested that he drive us to the top of the Pinnacle and then we could hike it backwards, back to where we were parked already. That way we would be able to do more downhill than up. And, because it was supposed to be really raining by the afternoon, he would take us to a hotel in Hot Springs Village when we got down.

So we went to sleep with our plans made. Kandace was dreaming about a shower at the end of the day and I was psyching myself up to hike in the rain.

Day 12

Hiked to 13.5 miles to Ouachita Pinnacle (MM 147)

We had camp broken by 7am to get started. 

Dad drove us down some rough dirt roads to drop us at the top of Ouachita Pinnacle as planned.

We quickly found the trail and started walking down it back to where we came from.

At first it was just foggy and misty, which was beautiful actually.

I love a misty hike in the woods.

Taylor Swift’s new album (Evermore) had dropped over night, so we both downloaded it and listened to it while we hiked through the fog.

I hadn’t used my headphones (or phone) hardly at all on this trip. I was always trying to save my battery, and I also love hearing all the noises of the forest.

But this day, we both listened to music as we hike quickly trying to beat the storms.

It started raining heavier about halfway through the morning. We both got pretty soaked, but somehow knowing that your’e going to have a hot shower at the end of the day makes it a little easier to keep stomping through the rain.

I thought this part of the trail was lovely. On a prettier day, you could have seen Lake Ouachita for sure.

And the forest floor was covered with delicate reindeer moss.

And the rain made all the greens brighter.

Walking downhill as quickly as I could was probably not the best idea for my ankle, and I had a couple of stumbles.

By now I was so used to falling I was starting to laugh every time it happened. I had one fall that hurt enough that it slowed my pace for a while, but eventually I made it down.

When I spotted the car, the rain was starting to fall harder.

As soon as we got to Hot Springs Village, the bottom fell out of the sky.

It rained so hard all afternoon and all night that we watched it through our window in awe.

After our showers, we went out for Mexican food and margaritas. Then we crawled into cozy beds. Such a treat!

It was strange to be in a hotel so close to my home. (Hot Springs Village is only about an hour from Little Rock.)

But that also meant we were getting closer and closer to the end. We had made it 147 miles!

We mapped out the rest of the trail from our hotel room before falling asleep to the Hallmark Christmas Movie Channel.

As the rain fell outside, I said a prayer of gratitude for a dry bed and for my dad showing up as trail support on the Ouachita Trail.

So so grateful!

Trail Notes:

This 80-mile section of the Ouachita Trail from Foran Gap to Ouachita Pinnacle would be a great 5-7 day backpacking trip. It is strenuous (lots of up and down), but this section of the trail is absolutely gorgeous. There were a lot of highlights on this chunk of the trail: Fiddlers Creek Shelter, Suck Mountain, Story Creek, Irons Fork Crossing, Round Mountain Vista, and reaching the Ouachita Pinnacle. There are plenty of shelters along the stretch if you wanted to hike it without a tent, and there is also plenty of Forest Service Road access.

You can find more info about the Ouachita Trail on the Friends of the OT website.

The post Trail Support on the Ouachita Trail: Foran Gap Shelter to Ouachita Pinnacle appeared first on Alison Chino.

17 miles

2 days

Sunshine and Trail Angels

DAY 6

6.3 miles to Black Fork Mountain Shelter. (Mile Marker 57.8)

Kandace and I both slept hard at the Queen Wilhelmina Lodge. It was amazing to wake up and be able to go to the bathroom without having to put on everything I was carrying.

When we woke up, our boots, clothes and gear were miraculously mostly dry. I was grateful to pull on dry socks for the first time in a few days.

We had planned a shorter 6 mile day so that we could enjoy our room and not have to get going early in the morning, so we ate a big breakfast of eggs and biscuits and fruit in the lodge’s restaurant. We had a leisurely morning with extra cups of coffee and time to stare out the windows at the view of the valley we had hiked up from the day before.

We barely made the 11am check out time, setting out shortly before noon to walk from the Queen Wilhelmina Lodge to Black Fork Mountain.

The swelling on my ankle had gone down some. I tied it again with a bandana and tightened the laces of my boots. Then I took some ibuprofen and hoped for the best. I couldn’t walk quickly over the rocky trail, but I wasn’t hobbling like the day before either.

Grateful for the shorter day, I plowed on forward and ignored the pain as the day wore on, knowing that I wouldn’t have to go that far before I could call it quits for the day.

The first several miles of the trail were pretty rough–more leaves on top of rocks, so it was slow going.

Then the trail flattened out a bit and we found ourselves walking more pine needle beds than rocks.

Also in addition to the easier walking, the day was gorgeous.

Clear blue sky and sunshine were blessedly welcome after our wet walking days.

When you get to the railroad tracks near the Black Fork Mountain Trailhead, you’re almost to the shelter.

The path turns after the tracks and heads straight up the mountain.

The Ouachita Trail Shelters seem to be often perched on top of hills and mountains, so if you’re sleeping shelter to shelter, you get to end the day with a climb.

But the views are usually gorgeous.

We reached our shelter with plenty of daylight, which was lovely. I propped my ankle up on a bench and drained my water bottle.

We ate our dinner early and then Kandace hung our food. We did this every night on the trail to keep bears (and other critters) from being tempted to crawl into the shelters with us.

We attached a carabiner to one end of a thin length of rope, which Kandace through over a tree branch. Then she would attach our food bags to the carabiner and pull the food up high before tying off the other end of the rope around a tree.

We settled in by our fire to enjoy the evening.

It was so lovely to be dry and clean. And to have almost 60 miles of the trail behind us.

Just after it got dark, the hiker we had met at the State Line Shelter the day before came up the hill with his dog. He was glad we already had a fire going. The temperatures were dropping quickly. We traded hiking notes for a while by the fire, comparing river crossings and food pouches.

Then he hung a hammock in the shelter. It was our first night sharing a shelter, so we navigated respectfully taking turns getting ready for bed. We were in our bags when he and his dog climbed up into their hammock.

Kandace and I were planning to get up super early the next day because we had friends meeting us on the trail that were hiking backwards toward us from a trailhead that was about 10 miles east of us. I could hardly sleep I was so excited, but I stared up at the shelter roof, listening to the snoring pup and the breezes blowing on the hillside, and eventually I nodded off.

DAY 7

11 miles to Foran Gap Shelter. (Mile Marker 69)

We were up before the sun at Black Fork Mountain Shelter.

We tiptoed out of the shelter so as not to wake our “roommate.” We were amazed that his dog didn’t bark as we prepped our packs and boiled water. We had a quick cup of coffee, stuck some protein bars in our pockets and headed off down the hill.

We descended a long time, and quickly.

Kandace took most of our food in her pack, graciously sparing me extra weight on my ankle.

I leaned hard on my trekking poles and said prayers of gratitude for more pine needle foot beds.

It was a bit more cloudy than the day before, but the sun peeked out here and there.

We had a creek crossing that wasn’t too bad. We went ahead and filled our water bottles while I let the cold creek water “ice” my ankle for a little while.

The morning went by quickly as we anticipated running into my friends.

Somewhere around mile marker 65 or 66 we ran into them! Our trail angels, Connie and Carol, had gotten up super early to meet us for lunch on this section of the trail.

I have told the story before of how their coming to find us with a gourmet picnic in the middle of our hike was the greatest morale booster of all time.

Such a delight!

They also brought me a brace for my ankle which made the hiking a good bit easier for me for the rest of the day.

After our picnic, we hiked as a happy foursome back to where they had parked.

Just as they were getting ready to leave, my dad pulled up in his car.

My dad had been following our hike from home and had planned to meet us later in the week, but after I turned my ankle, he rearranged his plans and came earlier. We didn’t know what his plans were at the time, but he ended up staying nearby for the rest of our hike on the Ouachita Trail, providing trail support so we could hike with lighter loads.

It was a huge gift.

We started throwing everything that we wouldn’t need over the next day into the back of his car.

He packed his pack for the night, and in addition to his own gear, he threw in all kinds of treats he had brought for us: apples, oranges, hot cocoa with peppermint schnapps, and M&Ms!

Then, from the Foran Gap Trailhead where he had parked, we all three hiked a mile (up the hill) to Foran Gap Shelter.

We started gathering firewood and setting up our stuff in the shelter.

It had been such a fun day. My ankle was feeling better, we’d seen our friends and now my dad was with us.

Plus the weather was holding. It was a clear, cold night.

Before the sun went down, our bunkmate from the night before arrived with his sweet dog. His pup was struggling a bit so he was planning to cut his hike short the next day to give her paws time to rest.

We all sat around the fire talking and laughing.

I was giddy thinking about hiking the next day with such a light pack.

And I couldn’t remember the last time I had slept outside with my dad. We both love the outdoors but our adventures rarely coincide with each other.

I think perhaps my long-standing interest in the Ouachita Trail has something to do with it being so near where I grew up.

I’d never hiked this trail with my dad, but we had been on many other Arkansas trails together. As he pored over his Ouachita Trail Guidebook and I studied the map on my phone, we made plans for where we would try to meet up the next day.

I thought about how two nights ago I wasn’t sure how I was going to finish the hike. Now I felt confident that we were going to make it all the way to the end.

We went to sleep early.

We were planning to be up again before dark to tackle a larger section of the trail, plus the temperatures were dropping below freezing so the warmest place to be was inside a zero degree sleeping bag.

Trail Notes:

This 17-mile section of the Ouachita Trail from Queen Wilhelmina to Foran Gap would be a fairly leisurely weekend backpacking trip.

Possible Itinerary:

Friday afternoon: Drop a car at Foran Gap Trailhead and drive back in a second car to Queen Wilhelmina State Park. Hike 6 miles (east) to Black Fork Mountain Shelter at Mile Marker 57.8. Spend the night.

Saturday: Walk 11 miles east from Fork Mountain Shelter to Foran Gap Shelter. You’ll pass your car at Foran Gap trailhead one mile before the shelter so you can re-supply at the car and drop anything you don’t need. Hike on up to Foran Gap Shelter at Mile Marker 69. Spend the night.

Sunday: Enjoy a slow Sunday morning by the fire at Foran Gap. Hike the mile west back to your car. Stop for lunch in Mena. Head on home.

If you wanted to camp only one night, you could also spend Friday night at Queen Wilhelmina Lodge, hike 6 miles on Saturday and then 10 miles to the Foran Gap Trailhead on Sunday.

You can find more info about the Ouachita Trail on the Friends of the OT website.

The post Ouachita Trail: Queen Wilhelmina to Foran Gap Shelter appeared first on Alison Chino.

26.5 miles

2 days

Some rain, some sun and…

Many River Crossings

DAY 4

14 miles to a spot in the woods where we collapsed. (close to Mile Marker 39)

We woke up to a gorgeous fog covering the whole world around us.

Thankfully, it had stopped raining.

But all our gear was still wet.

I had an extra pair of dry socks to put on, which made it a tiny bit easier to pull on wet pants and boots.

I also had a dry stocking cap.

But I couldn’t bear the wet gloves, so I just tucked my hands inside of my jacket.

I used my trash bag to wrap up my wet things, deciding I would deal with them later.

After coffee and protein bars, we headed off into the foggy morning.

For two hours we hiked straight downhill, losing all the elevation we had gained the previous day.

It was wild how quickly we dropped.

But it was also beautiful.

We were in the trees all morning, walking over more moss-covered rocks.

The fog was so thick that even the parts of me that weren’t wet began to feel wet again.

We had wet hair just from the mist.

But still we were glad it wasn’t raining, yet.

After five miles we had descended low enough to reach a creek.

It was our first water stop of the day, but more significantly, we were beginning a 14 mile section of the trail during which (unbeknownst to us) we would make over 50 river and creek crossings.

Soon we reached our first big crossing.

I had not previously mentioned to Kandace that we would be crossing rivers, so she was a little surprised when we reached the rushing Big Cedar Creek.

According to the guidebooks and websites, most of the river crossings on the OT are “usually just rock hops,” but after a day and night of heavy rainfall, Big Cedar Creek was kind of raging.

Or at least that’s how it felt. It looked really deep. Well above the knees for sure. We bushwacked down the river a little bit to see if we could find a more shallow crossing. Nope. It looked even deeper further down.

Of course, since we didn’t know this would be the first of MANY CROSSINGS, we spent longer than we should have debating how to cross.

Should we take off our boots?
What about our pants?

Kandace was carrying sandals so she changed into them, and then crossed over the river.

I took a video so someone would believe me when I told them how deep it was.

After she got across, she threw her sandals back to me to wear.

When she was going through the water, we realized that the water was actually about waist deep, so I decided to take off my boots, my socks and my pants to get across.

This, naturally, took some time.

Standing around deliberating about what to do on a cold day just makes you colder.

It doesn’t take long to lose the heat you’ve built up walking as you stand still looking at the water. So at some point I finally just went for it. Using my poles to gauge how deep the water was on each step, I gradually made my way across the river.

I was squealing from the cold and holding onto my poles for dear life. As the water grew deeper, I was terrified that I was going to lose my footing, fall over and get my entire backpack wet. Plus be swept down river in the process.

But I made it across with my pack intact.

It took us a few minutes to get everything back on and get moving. It took us even longer to get warm again after being in the river.

But about the time I was moving enough to be warm again, we came to another crossing.

This one wasn’t as deep, but it was deep enough that we had to make a decision about boots. We each found a different place to cross. Since my boots were still wet from the rain the day before, I didn’t mind stepping in a little bit of water.

By little, I mean like an inch.

I reasoned that if I could find rocks that were just a little bit under the water to step on, I wouldn’t have to take off my boots. So that’s what I was looking for. Of course, I underestimated how much water was running over the rocks on one step and then I misstepped and slipped off a mossy rock on the next step, and into the water I went.

Water quickly poured into the tops of my boots. Now my boots were soaked. My socks were no longer even dry on the insides, and the bottom 10 inches of my pants were wet. Bummer.

I always begin a crossing so carefully. I take each step almost painfully slowly, but then once I misstep or slip, a strange thing happens. I’m so anxious to get out of the water that I just start stepping fast and sort of go willy nilly the rest of the way. A clown could not perfect a more ridiculous act.

But I needed that little bit of absurdity to make me laugh, because I was so mad at myself for getting wet.

Especially since I had taken such care to stay dry on the first crossing.

When you get wet, somehow it’s not just that moment that is frustrating, but it’s also an insult to all your previous efforts to stay dry.

It feels like wasted effort.

There is the fall

Years ago on a hike with my dad, we were taking a big group of 8th graders up a trail that ran right along a creek bed.

Well, actually, the word “trail” in this scenario is generous. In fact, a lot of the time, the trail was the creek bed.

Early in the hike we were all trying to stay up on the side edges of the creek or in places where it was really narrow, we would straddle the creek in order to keep our feet dry.

One by one, kids misstepped and got their feet wet.

After they got wet, they would just start tromping through the middle of the creek. Once you had wet shoes, you could go faster because you weren’t spending each step trying to find a dry place to put your feet.

But I kept my shoes dry for a long time. I was going out of my way and tromping through brush on the side of the creek in order to stay dry. I was one of the last people to still have dry shoes as the hike wore on.

But then, inevitably, I misstepped. I stepped on a rock that was wet and slipped and fell flat in the water on my chest. It was a horrible fall. Embarrassing and ridiculous. And painful.

And of course, now my shoes were wet.

So for the rest of the hike, I berated myself for not just going ahead and getting my shoes wet earlier. I reasoned that if I had just been stepping straight in and not trying to avoid the water, I would never have had such a bad fall.

Of course all this kind of reasoning is unhelpful when you’re hiking (or doing anything else, come to think of it).

Now on the Ouachita Trail, on our first day of river crossings, I got wet on our second crossing.

It was only one crossing I had stayed dry for. I hadn’t wasted that much trail time trying to stay dry.

But I was still mad that I fell.

We had hiked 8 miles so far, and we had 6 left.

I was exhausted and tired and cold and wet. And mad.

Such a bad combination.

This might be a good time to mention that one of the things about me that makes me perhaps not the greatest backpacker is that I fall down often. It’s actually alarming how much I fall down. And it happens out of nowhere. I blink and I just hit the ground.

I really like to go through life without falling. Both physically and metaphorically.

I like for everything to be perfect (which doesn’t exist). And I like to do everything right (also not possible).

Because in real life, people fall down, both on the ground and in work and in parenting and in pretty much everything we try,

I have come to adopt a favorite quote about falls.

It’s something that a 14th century mystic named Julian of Norwich said,

and it goes like this:

There is the fall.

And there is the recovery from the fall.

And both are the mercy of God.

And so, as I stomped up the trail in wet clothes and boots, I began to say these words to myself.

Out loud.

And through clenched teeth.

Over and over again.

There is the fall.

And there is the recovery from the fall.

And both are the mercy of God.

Again.

There is the fall.

And there is the recovery from the fall.

And both are the mercy of God.

I don’t even understand why this works for me, but after a while, I began to feel just a tiny bit lighter.

I was still tired and wet, but the anger and frustration lessened a little.

I was grateful to find that repeating these words helped me cope with a fall, because I would have many more opportunities to use them on this rocky, steep trail.

Soon we came to yet another river crossing. The water was deep again. And it was rushing by again. It was cold and fast, and I stepped right in without even stopping to weigh if this was the best place or if I should take off my boots or if this hike was the worst idea I’ve ever had.

I just went on in.

Mercy of God, I said.

And then it happened 7 more times.

7 more places where deep water crossed the trail.

7 more times I didn’t stop and take off my boots and try to stay dry as I crossed the water.

7 more times I stomped through the water and didn’t fall down trying to hop across rocks.

Mercy of God.

In between crossings, my boots made a squishy sloshy noise with every step.

My feet were icy cold and I could feel my toes turning into little mushy raisins inside of my wet socks.

Finally we started gaining enough elevation to leave the water, for today.

Tomorrow we would cross the river and it’s tributaries again over 40 more times, but today we were nearing the end. Only three miles left to go before we could peel off wet clothes and go to sleep.

And then it started raining.

We climbed up for another hour in the rain.

I kept reminding myself that the day would end eventually. I only had to take this one more step.

And then this one.

And on and on.

We were losing daylight, so Kandace pushed ahead and got the tent set up as I hobbled through the last mile.

I couldn’t hurry or I would surely fall again. So I slowed down instead. I hadn’t taken any pictures since putting away my phone for the river crossings, so I dug it out and paused to catch the water dripping off the pine needles.

I told God how much I loved seeing this beauty, even though my entire body was hurting and cold.

We hadn’t seen anyone for miles, so it felt like we had all the woods and trees and creeks to ourselves.

This was what I came for, this being away.

Being in the woods.

Being.

I was already grateful for how my sleeping bag was going to feel.

And for how fast two people can get a tiny tent warm. We ate our dinner inside our sleeping bags, and laughed at how tired we were. We could hear the water rushing in the Kiamichi River not far away, our first crossing the next day would be early.

But the sun was going to be shining. The clouds of the last two days were going to part and we would see blue sky again as we made our way the 13 miles to the Queen Wilhelmina Lodge. Hot showers and beds tomorrow, we told ourselves as we went to sleep.

DAY 5

13 miles to Queen Wilhelmina Lodge. (Mile Marker 51.5)

The sky was clear when we peeked out of our tent. We drank coffee that Kandace made in the tent vestibule.

And then we packed up.

Of course everything was still wet, including the tent. We packed it all up in trash bags again, laughing at how bad our room at the lodge was going to smell that night.

I put on wet socks, wet boots and wet pants. I prayed that the sun would reach us quickly.

Then we set off. We quickly reached the Kiamichi River and had to cross over.

Kandace changed into her sandals and tucked her boots into the top of her pack, and I just walked across in my wet boots.

On our second crossing, Kandace crossed under a tree branch that knocked the top of her pack loose.

The impact knocked her boots out of her pack. She started yelling to me that her boots were floating downstream.

I was already on the other side, so I ran down the river bank but the boots quickly floated past me. I thought they were gone for sure, but then they got hung in a spot on some rocks back on the other side of the river.

So Kandace had to go back in for her boots. She had to cross a deeper section of the river and collect her (now wet) boots.

We knew we had several more crossings so she secured her boots onto her pack hoping they would dry in the sun, while she hiked in her sandals.

On and on we tromped in the river. We were so grateful for the sun.

Even though I was still wet and cold (if we stopped for too long, we would start shivering), I knew that eventually the sun would dry everything.

At Mile Marker 43.5, we made our last crossing and then the trail turned toward Rich Mountain and away from the river.

Up, up, up we climbed.

And finally I got warm.

It turns out that even if you are wet, you can warm up if you’re hiking uphill enough.

I stumbled a bit over the rocky trails, tripping just from being weary.

We were trying to get to the top of the mountain, to the State Line Shelter before we stopped for lunch, but we were hungry and tired, so Kandace found a sunny log and we faced the sun and ate our tuna.

It was glorious.

Probably the best lunch I’ve ever had.

After lunch and a good rest, we walked the rest of the way up to the State Line Shelter. There was a guy camping in the shelter. He had reached it yesterday. Like us, his stuff was all wet, so he was drying out for the day. He was the first person we had seen since our first night on the OT.

We had not seen another human being for over 40 miles. Wild.

He took our picture at the state line between Arkansas and Oklahoma. (His sweet dog photo bombed.)

We had just over four miles left to the lodge, and it was all along the top of the ridge, so it would be pretty flat.

Onward we went.

We were so excited. I couldn’t wait to peel off my boots and wet socks.

But just a little while after leaving the state line, I twisted my ankle and fell all the way to the ground. Hard.

Such a bummer.

Another fall. Another falling.

This time I cried through Julien of Norwich’s words as I slowed my pace to a hobble for the rest of the way to the lodge.

There is the fall.

And there is the recovery from the fall.

Both are the mercy of God.

After a mile or so, I stopped and tied my bandana around my ankle, and then tightened my boots to hold it in place. I drank the rest of my water. And then I pulled myself up.

Ok, I can make it. I can take one more step.

We reached the 50 mile mark, a big milestone. Only a mile and a half to go.

Finally, we made it! The Queen Wilhelmina Lodge!!

We immediately dumped out all our wet stuff and spread it all over the room.

Kandace showered while I iced my ankle. Then I showered.

We rinsed out what we could and left everything to dry.

Then we went to eat dinner.

We both ordered the catfish dinner with hush puppies, okra, fries and green beans.

And beer.

And then hummingbird cake.

And whiskey to finish.

It was divine.

Then we went back to our room and watched Hallmark Christmas movies in bed while I iced my ankle again.

I wasn’t really sure how I was going to walk the rest of the trail, but there was no point in worrying about that when I had a bed and four pillows all to myself.

For the moment, I was blissfully warm and dry. And I would face tomorrow, well tomorrow.

Trail Notes:

This 26.5-mile section of the Ouachita Trail from Winding Stair to Queen Wilhelmina Lodge could easily be done in a weekend.

Possible Itinerary:

Friday afternoon: Drop a car at Queen Wilhelmina State Park and drive back in a second car to Winding Stair Campground. Hike 2 miles (east) to Winding Stair Shelter (Mile Marker 25). Spend the night.

Saturday: Walk 9 miles east from Winding Stair Mountain to Pashubbe Shelter at Mile Marker 34.

Sunday: Hike 17.5 miles to Queen Wilhelmina State Park. Celebrate with dinner at the restaurant. Stay the night if you have an extra day or head home.

If you’re going to hike this section and it’s been raining, I highly recommend checking the Kiamichi River levels before you go. (They say to avoid it if the water is above 4 feet.) More info about the Ouachita Trail can be found on the Friends of the OT website.

If you need to shave a few miles off of the Sunday hike, you could either bring a tent and camp somewhere closer to the middle (which s what we did) or you could have someone meet you at the state line (Mile Marker 46.5) which would cut it down by 4 miles.

The post The Ouachita Trail: Winding Stair to Queen Wilhelmina State Park appeared first on Alison Chino.

The Answer To “The Questions That Have Assailed Us All Day”

Yesterday I woke up to a world covered in snow.

I had gone to bed with a heaviness that is all too familiar.

I am forever grateful that mercies are new every morning.

And this snow that had come down all night long felt like an especially new mercy.

Like the whole earth was made new.

I put on all my warm clothes to go walking in the snow.

I can only walk a little ways since being sick. And I walk so slow.

But even a slow, short walk in the woods is enough to temporarily shake my body free of the weight on my chest.

I tromped out into the snow with childlike wonder.

Every branch worthy of stopping in awe.

Look at how the snow piles so high on a tiny twig.

The icing sugar snow is three or four times the thickness of the actual branch.

How does it hold the weight?

The snow was still falling as I made my way around camp, collecting snowflakes on my nose.

And in the hair that stuck out of my stocking cap.

I would take a few steps and then turn around to see my footprints, the only disturbance in the snow-covered path.

What a strange privilege to have this whole world of fallen snow all to myself.

No one else around for miles.

I returned to the cabin to watch the snow fall from inside.

Taking up my usual spot by the fire, I turned to my brand-new-for-2021 daily ritual of reading poetry.

A quick search brought up a whole catalog of snowy poems.

After reading through several, I landed on one about walking in the snow.

And I read it over and over again:

First Snow

by Mary Oliver

The snow

began here

this morning and all day

continued, its white

rhetoric everywhere

calling us back to why, how,

whence such beauty and what

the meaning; such

an oracular fever! flowing

past windows, an energy it seemed

would never ebb, never settle

less than lovely! and only now,

deep into night,

it has finally ended.

The silence

is immense,

and the heavens still hold

a million candles, nowhere

the familiar things:

stars, the moon,

the darkness we expect

and nightly turn from. Trees

glitter like castles

of ribbons, the broad fields

smolder with light, a passing

creekbed lies

heaped with shining hills;

and though the questions

that have assailed us all day

remain — not a single

answer has been found —

walking out now

into the silence and the light

under the trees,

and through the fields,

feels like one.

And though the questions

that have assailed us all day 

remain

Yes, Mary, I thought!

This perfectly expresses how when I go for a walk in the woods,

it certainly doesn’t fix everything…

the questions that have assailed me all day remain.

All day and especially when I try to go to sleep at night,

I am assailed by questions.

Will I ever be able to walk ten miles again? Or even two?

When will my strength return?

Will I be able to taste my food again?

When will I be able to see my children again?
Are they ok? Do they feel alone in the world?

How many more people will die of this virus?

What is going to happen to our country?
Can there ever be an end to corruption? 

Will those in authority ever show the same respectful restraint of violence for Black lives that they show for angry white men?

Can the United States ever break free from our foundation of white supremacy, oppression and violence?

What is my role in such a world?

What does it mean to serve God when the church has lost its way?

Or is it me? Have I lost my way?

But then I walk outside.

Make my way to the waterfall, stop and watch the water come down over the rocks.

I watch the snowflakes fall into the not-yet-frozen pool of water.

This snow all around me does not offer a single answer to my questions.

And yet I have to agree with Mary Oliver, walking in the snow feels like one.

The post Walking in the Snow, The Answer To The Questions That Have Assailed Us All Day. appeared first on Alison Chino.

Snapshots of Walking in Winter in Illinois + Musings From My Wanderings

Several years ago I wrote the following Richard Rohr quote on an index card and hung it up in the kitchen of the apartment we were renting.

In order to live your soul into the world, you must continually loosen your beliefs about who you are.

I’ve moved this little card to three more places since writing it.

I keep hanging it up,

and its truth keeps revealing itself to me.

Here’s an example:

Something I’ve believed about myself for a long time is this:

I’m not a winter person.

Other versions of this belief include:

I like summer.

I like warm weather.

I like being hot.

As soon as I learned we were moving to Illinois,

I began to try to loosen this belief.

Just a little bit.

Instead of dreading winter,

could I find a way to embrace it?

Could I let it in?

We had our first snowfall here early in the season.

The autumn colors were bright and beautiful,

and then all of a sudden,

they were covered in snow.

It was a strange muddle of the seasons.

And it was kind of beautiful.

Then winter arrived in earnest when I returned from Spain.

I have kept this coat that could double as a sleeping bag handy.

Plus snow boots.

I don’t get out in the winter weather every day.

But when I do,

I am surprised by how much I like walking in it.

Of course it’s more fun with friends.

My sister-in-law is not afraid of winter, but she and I definitely share a love of warm weather.

In January, the snow turned to ice.

When it gets super cold around here, the top layer of the snow freezes into this shell of ice.

So Taido bought some grips that are like snow chains for your boots.

We have had more fun with these than I thought was possible.

They make me feel like a superhero.

And I can walk on all these icy roads without falling.

It’s crazy.

It’s almost like I am a winter person.

(kind of)

I do love feeling equipped to get outside no matter what the weather is.

Here’s another belief I’ve had about myself for a long time.

I’m not an animal person.

But then I fell in love with the Davidson family dog, Harley.

I walk her around Glen Ellyn whenever I’m in town,

which is a lot.

And I’ve even brought her to Rock Island to keep me company.

So now I’m walking around outside in winter,

and I love this dog,

and I think maybe I am living my soul into the world.

Who knows?

Here’s another quote I wrote down this week while reading Michael A. Singer’s The Untethered Soul:

The spiritual journey is one of constant transformation. In order to grow, you must give up the struggle to remain the same, and learn to embrace change at all times.

While walking with Simon on winter trails (and trailing behind him), I think about how much change he has lived through in his short life. I wonder if we are helping our kids to embrace change or if they will struggle harder to cling to the safety of “same” because we’ve dragged them through so much change.

…learn to embrace change at all times.

I don’t think I necessarily set out to learn this truth, but I’ve had the wild and wonderful privilege of discovering it.

And I know there is more change to come.

And I’m sure I will catch myself again in the struggle to remain the same.

But for now, every day that I take a willing step (both literal and spiritual) into whatever comes feels like a mercy.

The snow clearing crew at Augustana College is amazing.

Often I can walk there while the rest of Rock Island is still covered in snow and ice.

In fact,

if it hasn’t snowed in a while,

the trails at Augustana are totally cleared.

But my street still looks like a sheet of ice.

So I wear my little ice grips until I get to the school.

And then take them off on this trail if it’s clear.

Here’s a photo just for my kids (and everyone who has ever read The Willoughbys by Lois Lowry) of me with my crampons on my head.

So absurd.

Even more absurd,

even though I own these ice grips,

I fell a few weeks ago on our steps, walking to the car (sans ice grips of course).

And so my superhero status quickly tanked.

Now I’m less “walking around on the ice” and more “staying at home nursing a bruised tailbone.”

Another  change.

So my walks have been either very short or nonexistent over the last couple of weeks.

But we had another big snow a few nights ago,

and it was the kind that makes all the trees look frosted.

So I got up and walked to school with Taido just to be the first footsteps on this wooded trail.

And to wonder in amazement at how much snow can gather on a tiny little branch.

I took so many photos that my fingers started to feel frozen in the single digit temps.

But there’s nothing quite like the first morning after a big snow.

Especially on a quiet trail.

Before the rest of the world is out and about.

And if I get snow inside my boots from going too deep into the tall drifts (that definitely happened),

Or when the wind makes my nose freeze and my eyes water,

I walk on home and find a little snuggle buddy.

Or a hot drink and a book.

Cheers to winter walking, winter reading and winter snuggling!

(And to softening the grip on remaining the same.)

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The post Snapshots of Walking in Winter appeared first on Alison Chino.