Today I couldn’t get out for something big, so I had to settle for a quick snowshoe around Middle-earth. Right after elevensies, I headed out to Frodo’s Ring Trail, climbed to the top of Mount Erebor—that’s right, the Lonely Mountain—visited Gandalf, Strider, Legolas, and Gimli, and was back home in an hour. Not too bad for a quest into the Wide World.
Actually, the looming Lonely Mountain is only 462 feet high, and my chosen route for the day couldn’t have been more than a mile long. Located within the Haseltine Community Preserve, the trail system here was created and named by the Amherst Conservation Commission, and their decision to name the trails after things from The Lord of the Rings was a stroke of brilliance. Who doesn’t want to be transported to the land of hobbits and wizards? Especially nowadays when the news cycle feels like one giant insane reality show.
Frodo’s Ring Trail—the path to Mount Erebor
Haseltine Community Preserve
I’ve made many visits to the Haseltine Preserve when I don’t have time for something bigger. Mountain bikers love the area and I’ve met several of them here during the summer months. The trails are perfect for them. Flowy. Burmy. All that. But they’re not around during the winter. Or the fall. No, during those months, I often come across hunters instead—I saw another one today in fact. Mountain bikers and hunters are kind of an odd combo, but that’s what you get at Haseltine. Interestingly, what I don’t ever see too many of here are hikers.
Which is too bad. It’s a lovely set of trails. Especially the aptly named Rivendell Trail, which has these incredible, towering white pines. On a sunny day, as light glistens through the green leaves of summer, it’s not hard to imagine an elf emerging on horseback to greet you. The only problem with the Rivendell Trail is that it’s pretty short.
Frodo’s Ring Trail
Frodo’s Ring Trail is the big honker in this area, and that’s what I decided to hike today. Usually I pick some alternate routes, but today I stuck to the Frodo loop, and while hiking it, I could see why some might choose other areas. It wraps around the perimeter of the preserve where several homes can be seen. This certainly takes away from the natural feel of things. But it’s not like the houses are too visible. The worst it will ever be is in winter, and I hardly noticed them.
I suppose the bigger problem is hunters. I’ve seen three of them here over the past year, and despite the recurrence, I keep forgetting to bring any orange reflective gear for my protection. You would think after the first time, I’d remember, but no. I’m an idiot, apparently. It’s not like I never bring protective gear when I hike, either. Oftentimes, on trails where I’ve never seen a hint of hunting activity, I’ll bring something just in case. Haseltine, it would seem, is my kryptonite, where even though they make it clear at the trailhead I should be wearing orange, I forget to bring it every time. Maybe the Arkenstone is clouding my judgment.
“I have no memory of this place.” — Gandalf
Next Time
Hopefully, this was the last time I make such a mistake. When I saw the hunter today, loading his gun into the back of his truck, I couldn’t help but feel a little wary. Even though it looked like he was done for the day, seeing a rifle out in the woods never gives me the warm and fuzzies. It taps into a thousand years of evolution. Suddenly, I assume that the hunter will either mistake me for a deer trying to learn how to walk on two feet for the first time, or he’ll initiate a round of The Most Dangerous Game. Either way, not good.
My dog, Bullet, gets exasperated with me in these moments because I start yelling his name a lot, and whistling, just to make sure the hunter knows I’m not some special kind of deer. I also look back over my shoulder a few times to make sure I don’t become prey. With no weapon of my own, I go into movie mode, thinking I’ve got to “get some distance” from my would-be attacker. I don’t panic or anything, but it seems like every foot I can add between me and him is a smart thing. It’s not that I don’t trust him, but, well, yes, I don’t trust him. I’ve been around enough dumb hunting activities to know how quickly things can go awry, and I’m not taking any chances when a gun is around.
But that’s Middle-earth for you. There weren’t any guns in Tolkien’s Middle-earth, but there were wizard spells and dark magic. They could strike you down just as quick. So, I guess you could say that the Haseltine Preserve delivers on its Middle-earth experience. I prefer it when it’s hunter-free though, walking on a summer day through the Rivendell Forest. Maybe I’ll hold off on returning to it until then.
“It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there’s no knowing where you might be swept off to.”
― Bilbo Baggins