Fall is my favorite season to hike. The warmth of hiking offsets the crisp coolness of the air. The bright colored trees are mesmerizing. There are fewer mosquitoes, little humidity, more deer and wildlife. I even love the smell of fallen leaves and the sound of the crunch beneath my feet.
From the last weekend of September to the third weekend in October, I plan out my weekend hiking trips with zealous detail. I map out the exact locations to maximize the changing seasons in the best weather. I actually already have several itineraries mapped out to explore various parts of the state that should be aglow in fall foliage.
Last year at this same time, I hiked over 50 miles of the Ice Age Trail and I’ve been thinking of little else in the early weeks of September as I’ve prepared for my autumnal outings. One weekend last year, I rented a cabin in the Northwoods and explored some of the most colorful vistas I’ve ever seen in the state.
But this past weekend, plans changed. Rather suddenly. My dad got sick and had to have surgery. Instead of hiking I spent the day in the hospital trying to make him laugh, while meeting with doctors and nurses and learning about recovery times and risks.
I couldn’t picture myself being anywhere else.
As I look over my itineraries for the next several weekends, they don’t have the same appeal and joy. My dad is going to make a full recovery and he came home from the hospital a few days ago, but he still has four weeks of recovery. How can I drive around the state hiking, when my parents need groceries and have laundry and need help getting things done?
There will be other years to do autumn hikes.
This year there is somewhere else I’d rather be.
