“It is not down on any map; true places never are.”
—Herman Melville, Moby Dick
Yesterday I went exploring some new trails after spending some time on the tried-and-true the day before. They were a short set of trails, and when I looked at the map for Converse Woods, I thought, why not hike them all? I figured with less than two miles to explore, I could familiarize myself with the entire area in one fell swoop.
It wasn’t a bad plan. It wasn’t going to require any more physical output than my daily exercise routine. But I forgot one thing when it comes to best-laid plans: to expect the unexpected.
Converse Woods
Starting off from Haul Road, Bullet and I made our way to the Snowy Owl Trail first because it sounded the most alluring. Do you think they saw a snowy owl here, Bullet? I hope, I hope, I hope. But it was hard to imagine anything snowy looking visiting a place that was so green. Ferns and full-leaved oaks spread themselves out over the landscape, shielding us from the sun.
After looping Snowy Owl, we worked our way back to the start of Haul Road so that we could link up with the rest of the trails: White Trail, Quarry Trail, Ledge Trail, and the runout of Haul Road. It was an easy hike, though warmer than expected, and we took our time trying to get to know the place. If I’m being honest, I couldn’t find signs of a quarry on Quarry Trail, and there wasn’t much of a ledge on Ledge Trail, but at several places along the way we saw a healthy sampling of white oak. They were beautiful, with bark that looked like it was peeling away in strips near the treetops. Very similar to shagbark hickory. We stopped and stared for a spell, which is something I never do enough.
When we started up again, we maintained our leisurely pace and looked to be on target with redlining the entire trail map in under 45 minutes. But just as we got 95% of the way done, I was surprised to come upon a trail sign that wasn’t anywhere on the map. The Alpine Trail? What the heck is the Alpine Trail?
Alpine? But it can’t exist—it’s not on the map!
To Redline or Not?
I thought about it. For a second. The trail didn’t look as clear-cut as the others, I imagine because it’s relatively newer. Or is it older and discontinued? Maybe if it was totally clear, I would have given it a shot, but there was something else that held me back. Hiking this unknown trail wasn’t part of my plan. It felt like Alpine Trail was trying to lead me on a wild goose chase, and for what? For an extra few minutes so I could say I redlined this little patch of earth? Even if the trail dead-ended, there was only so far one could go in this little neck of the woods, so it wouldn’t be a big deal to hike it. But I’ve had so many days where a new trail led me to take steps I didn’t need or want, and I’m over it.
There is nothing wrong with redlining, of course. Heck, I planned to do it when I started out on this tiny quest. And I’ve met plenty of hikers out there who have redlined quite a bit of impressive territory. I tip my hat to them. But for my little redlining party in the Converse Woods, I remembered two things:
- Someone is always making a new trail. You may have thought you hiked an entire area, but a new trail started forming the second you hung up your hiking boots. And…
- There isn’t enough time in one life to see everything, walk every inch of this earth, and do everything you want to do. Not by a long shot. Sometimes you just have to say to yourself, “good enough,” acknowledging you got the gist of things, and enjoy the fact you got to see this little slice of earth. This place. This story. If redlining gives you that, then in my view, you’re doing it right.
White Oak