Mt. Jackson & Mt. Webster

Since returning to New Hampshire this is my first real hike, one long enough and steep enough where I couldn't bring my dog. Last weekend I hiked Mt. Willard in the Crawford Notch, which was a short (3 miles), but fairly steep climb to a beautiful overlook of the notch. But today I am once again a free woman without commitments or obligations, free to roam any mountain I choose, for however long I like, so I chose two.

Windy on Mt. Jackson (4,052 feet) !!

Mount Jackson and Mount Webster are both part of the Presidential Range of the White Mountains and lie to the Southwest of Mount Washington, the highest peak in the New Hampshire. You can bag both peaks in a moderate climb via the Webster-Jackson Trail (6.5 miles, 2500 ft).

From Mt. Jackson

The trailhead is also in Crawford Notch; in fact it's across the street from the trailhead for Mt. Willard which I hiked last weekend. It's about a three mile climb up to each peak, which a half mile or so connecting trail at the top, which is part of the Appalachian Trail.

From Mt. Webster (3911ft)

The climb is fairly easy to the top where it becomes steep and some scrambling is required to reach the top of Mt. Jackson. Due to the amount of rain we've had in the past two weeks, the trails were quite muddy and slippery, but I only fell once and luckily it was on a rock and not a mud bath.

View of Mt. Washington From Mt. Webster

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A Life Less Bored

A year has come and gone since I left Florida in search of a something to stimulate the rut my life had become. When I began this year-long journey I had no expectations of where I would go or even if I would be gone for a year. I figured at some point I would get tired of traveling and come home. Instead now I have no home, and probably never will. According to all official documents I live at a UPS store in St. Petersburg, Florida, but when somebody asks me where I live, I honestly don't have an answer.

I thought my year less bored would be wrought with travel, a month each in various states, hiking all the mountains I could. But I've only been to three (not counting the ones I traveled through of course), most of the year spent in New Hampshire where I attempted re-assimilation into real life first by opening a bakery and then by moving in with my boyfriend. Twice. Both were failures because of other contributing factors, but at the end of the day it comes down to a life-long fear of obligation and commitment that I now realize it's possible to live without.

So I will.