There was no time for mountains today. It’s Tax Day after all, and there’s a bunch of other stuff on my plate, so I couldn’t take time out for a long drive. But I still needed to get the lead out with a little hiking, so before work I explored something a little closer to home today.
Monson Village answered the call
Olde Monson Village
Monson Center, or Monson Village, lies between the borders of Hollis and Milford, New Hampshire and you can find a lot of its history here. Some claim that Monson was the first colonial inland settlement in New Hampshire, which I can’t understand seeing that some inland towns were incorporated before it, but I’m sure there are some semantics I’m unaware of.
Whatever the history of this place, I wanted to see it again because it’s like stepping back in time, two hundred years ago, and is a beautiful place to stretch the legs. I also wanted to explore more of it.
On a previous visit, I only checked out the big open field at the start of the hike, where the Gould House sits. Looking out on the stone walls that the village community created, I couldn’t help but think of M. Night Shyamalan’s The Village, and I wondered if the film director ever checked this place out. But I never wandered into the woods where “Those we do not speak of” supposedly lived. This morning I decided it was time that I did.
What’s in them woods?
Spring is Here
When I got out of the truck, I was greeted by my first round of spring skeeters this year. Not having any bug spray, I needed a shell jacket for protection. It was too hot out for it, but it was also too early in the day to start getting eaten by the world. After a short distance, I was able to shed the jacket, but it did help me get through those first few minutes of the trail without an attack. Fortunately, the heat eventually got to be too much for any bug to stand and they decided to leave me in peace.
Soon I came upon a large open field with stone walls running concurrently down the path. These led to the Gould House and the trails beyond it. It was a beautiful scene and I took my time. Once I reached the Gould House, I decided to break left and head out towards the remains of the Nevins homes and the old pound where they used to round up missing cattle. This was my preferred route because it took me across the big open field, and it was also where Peakbagger.com listed the Monson Village high point. Exactly the kind of silly side quest I’m prone to take.
I usually refrain from tagging these little highpoints that Peakbagger.com shows me, but I figured while I’m here, why not check it out? I can’t explain the impulse other than that there is this deep desire in me to explore everything under the sun. When I’m searching for mountains on Peakbagger.com and it shows me these other random little places, I don’t dismiss them because oftentimes they have led me to find some pretty cool stuff. But as for today, checking out the high point of Monson Center was the low point of this morning’s hike.
Here are some pictures of the good stuff:
Stepping Back in Time
There are so many reasons why preserving a place like Monson Village is important. There’s the history, of course, and the need for as much conservation land as we can muster, but to me, the chance to walk around a place that shows how things once were, without any reenactors or gaudy tourist shoppes hawking pilgrim hats or replica wares, is a captivating link to the minds of our forebears. Monson Village is more than a historic ghost town—it’s a symbol of man’s will to survive in hardscrabble terrain, build towns, and find a way to survive. It shows the literal meaning of “it takes a village” when you reflect on how these early New England families came together and cleared the land to lift each other up, protected each other from those who would harm them, and ventured further into the unknown continent.
But when you’re walking the trails at Monson, you can also see that what once was is not as far off as we sometimes think it may be. That our ability to be mindful, and root ourselves back in nature, isn’t as difficult as we think it is. Phones can be ditched. Computers can be left off. And we can head outside to places like Monson and recognize that the way people were is actually who we still are—if you strip away all the noise.
“Not looking back” isn’t always sage advice