So Long, Summer

By Samantha Bean

It never fails to amaze me that when you introduce yourself to someone for the first time and you begin to share stories and vignettes, you eventually strike a chord with them about something you both have in common.

This very same thing happened last weekend when I met with several other hikers on the Force of Nature hike series hosted by Friends of Hopewell Valley Open Space (FoHVOS). All of us drove different roads and we all parked with our various makes and models of vehicle. And yet, once we got to talking and loosening our muscles before the two-hour climb to the top of Baldpate Mountain, we quickly shared our stories about what was present in our lives and families. 

As we went around in a circle and rolled our shoulders and breathed in the humid Sunday morning air a common theme of transition arose from all of our stories. Some of us were in the process of moving our children into college dorms. Some across the country, others, just across the state line...but equally as tough. Others were in the process of visiting colleges a year before the big graduation. Some of us were transitioning our kids into middle school while others were simply trying to transition the thoughts of no more lazy summer mornings. Morning that will soon be hectic dashes to the bus stop with the hopes that lunch wasn’t left on the kitchen counter.

Romy takes opening selfie after we stretch

Our stories shared, and our muscles slightly warmed up, it was time to move on and begin the hike through the Ted Stiles Preserve on Baldpate Mountain. At the Summit trailhead, I began to notice another moment in transition. The leaves on the trees, reacting to the shortened days and longer nights were just beginning to show their crimson and amber colors as the green slowly fades to memory.

The first few feet of the trail begin with giant flat topped boulders that poke out of the dirt at perfect stepping intervals. Neat, I thought. The trail was bone dry in the late August heat, yet I wondered if mid-April these stones offered safe passage across a wet portion of the trail, at the base of a mountain. Indeed, a mountain it was and I was impressed that even in a short amount of time my heart was pumping. The incline hadn’t stopped yet.

Further along the trail which I began to notice was heavily trafficked by both walker, dog, and trail runners alike, the trail itself began to transition. At first, just a narrow path through towering tulip poplar trees soon became much more rocky. Even an Icelandic pony would find the boulder-strewn path quite a technical one. A few times, more giant boulders strategically placed as a one- or two-step staircase further up the mountain. Moments later, it was apparent that these stone placements were not nature’s work, but the careful and very well executed work of trail builders. Ahead of us was a boulder staircase that a first glance may look like a post glacial retreat relic. Yet, nearly impossible to imagine that so many flat topped rocks could arrange themselves so neatly, and so precisely that upon traversing them, not one wiggles, moves, or wobbles. Reaching the top of that man-made Mercer county wonder, you can’t help appreciate what work and labor went into making that. No wonder this trail is so well utilized. It is beautiful!

Hawk watching

Red-tailed hawk

Not much time left to catch our breath, we carried on up the trail and I began to take note that those trees around us are enormous. Climbing still, the trees still had many feet above us. At this point, the trail offers you a long route (Northwest Loop trail) or a shorter Blue trail taking you directly to the summit to reach the viewpoint. We opted for the longer route. Further ahead, the trail meanders through the old summer house estate and pond of the Kuser family. Proudly reigning in his domain, a red-tailed hawk perched happily on the open branches of an old tree. The raptor grabbed our attention for quite some time. He didn’t move, nor did we. Our hearts needed a break, and dare we move, he might fly away. Yet, this bird was enjoying his slow Sunday just as much as we were.

Only a few paces later we took a pond-side break for some meditation and quiet reflection, led by our trail guide Romy Toussaint of RomYoga in Lawrenceville. The pond was so quiet and so still, broken only by the constant call of the cicada. As we transitioned out of our five minute meditation, it was time to keep climbing. The summit wasn’t far.

Walking a little bit further, this preserve covering close to 1800 acres was

starting to show its expanse. We continued through the open field of the old estate and into a lush grassy meadow. The yellow of the season was beginning to overtake the purple bergamot that was present before. At the top of the mountain, a long line of huge white pines mark the edge of the meadow. While in the other direction, a sweeping vista of the Delaware river in the distance. I can only imagine what this view will look like once all the leaves start to turn and the greens begin to fade away.

Our hike was taken to new level now as we traversed down the meadow and through the dense wildflowers and grasses. We stopped for a moment at the Strawberry Hill Mansion, headquarters to FoHVOS to admire the restored garden of native plants. A perfect sycamore in the middle of it all offering plenty of shade throughout the long day and dappling the array of native plants like beardtongue, monarda, and swamp azalea. Once the garden of the Kuser family estate, time took its toll and much was left untouched and as such, became overrun with invasive species. Today, thanks to FoHVOS and volunteers, this garden is regaining its beauty and harboring a home for butterflies and other pollinators.

Following the trail back down the mountain, and even more carefully executing the boulder stairs, I could feel a sense of completion. The heat not bothering me, I knew that all too soon, the air wouldn’t smell of humidity and wildflowers, it would take on a whole new smell. As the trees transition into fall and the humidity decreases we remember how short the season of summer is and how all too quickly we are forced back into raincoats and boots and hot tea. For now, I’ll enjoy this heat while it’s here and worry about leaving lunches on the counter when the time comes.

The next hike in this series falls on Sunday, September 30th at 1pm.  This 2-mile forest bathing experience will at a surprise location in Hopewell Township. Location information will be shared closer to the event date.

 Please click here to register.