Jessie Gerard Trail, Barkhamsted, CT

If I didn’t take another day off of work before the end of the year, I would have lost it, so I took today off. After breakfast I grabbed Buddy (Rigs was at the vet) and made the 45 minute drive out to Barkhamsted, which has one of my favorite hikes in the state, the Jessie Gerard trail.

I enjoy hiking with friends, but hiking without other people is a really nice change. You can go at exactly the pace you want without worrying about anyone else, stopping wherever you want for as long as you want. I took it really slowly on the way up, stopping at a few different areas to read about and ponder the sites along the trail.

First, there is an old-ass cemetery, each grave marked by an upright, unnamed stone.

I didn’t take a picture of the sign, but it mentioned the couple who lived on the land, an American Indian and his white wife. The man lived into his nineties, and the woman died at 104. That’s incredible for the time period, which was the early 1800’s. I touched the stones, thinking about how they were placed there almost 200 years ago. There were no big towns or cities around. There were none of the modern conveniences we have now. Just people living off the land, in a time that was so different from today that it seems like it was a different world. It was humbling to behold.

A little farther up the trail, there was another sign explaining a grind stone that remains from hundreds of years ago.

Over 200 years ago, a woman chose this boulder to use to grind her seeds and corn kernels with a smaller rock, and after countless hours, she wore it down to this:

That’s incredible to me. Buddy was not as impressed, wanting instead to keep ascending the mountain.

There was a little brook flowing down the mossy rocks, through the fallen leaves, down toward the Farmington River below.

It was cold last night, so the twigs and leaves around the brook were frozen.

As I climbed the rock stairs farther up the trail, the brook turned into a waterfall, and above that it flowed more slowly, pooling in areas. The water was so clear and pure that I felt an urge to drink it.

I didn’t, but Buddy did.

Not only does he drink the water, but he always lies down in it.

When you really look closely at a brook, you see a lot of beautiful things. They’re so simple and so natural. Maybe that’s what constitutes its beauty.

When I got to the summit, I took off my backpack and enjoyed the view. It had warmed up significantly, the sun was bright, and the atmosphere was hazy from the morning frost melting and evaporating. It was a unique panorama, and in a way the haziness made the view more picturesque, each subsequent mountain fading away into the gray horizon.

I decided to lie down and take a nap which lasted about an hour. I only awoke because Buddy was breathing in my face. I got up, set the self-timer on the camera, and snapped a pic of Buddy and me.

I soaked in the view one more time to imprint it on my memory, then headed down the mountain. There were two other hikers, the only other people I had seen on the mountain, and they were both hiking solo as well, one with a dog whom Buddy immediately befriended by sniffing his ass.

There were no stops on the way down, other than occasionally hiding from Buddy when he wandered too far ahead of me, although his nose is too good for me to stay hidden for long. Maybe sniffing asses enhances your sense of smell. I’ll never know.

Hiking is one of the cheapest, simplest, easiest, yet most fulfilling ways to fill a day. At our core we were meant to be at one with nature, but the obligations of modern life take us away from that. An occasional rendezvous with Mother Nature is all it takes to rejuvenate our spirit and replenish the natural energy we need to be healthy.