Hanover, New Hampshire.
It has no hostels, but the trail runs right across the beautiful town, passing their college green and eventually meandering up behind the baseball fields to a shelter a short ways north. I don’t remember how long they’ve been doing it for, but the people who live there…
Here’s a tiny piece of the trail, in piano.
This is the French word for birch.
Here’s a short, sweet, lacking-in-some-ways-but-we-won’t-ever-tell-Sail-that-because-she-might-cry-or-something northbound IAT NB trail guide.
[trail writings, recorded in my science logs sometime in November?? 2017, from a cliff in northern Virginia]
It’s nearly springtime. The larks are almost…
Maybe if I wasn’t so busy reading and sleeping, and eating things, I’d edit these and pretend to be a photographer human. Alas. Here’s a few more photos from November and October: