This weekend, my partner, a good friend, her dog, and I hiked the Skyline Trail in the Middlesex Fells, a hidden gem of the Greater Boston area.  I hadn’t heard of this park until just a few years ago, and have been just twice.

Sometimes the Fells revealed its level of use in sparkling patches of broken bottles and tell-tale signs of a campfire, but mostly this urban forest turned a friendly face towards us -clearly marked paths, large rocks to scramble up, plush carpets of moss and lichen, and more than a few fellow hikers accompanied by a wide assortment of dogs.

Our company of four enjoyed the fair notes of summer transitioning towards fall, picked our way around a number of downed trees (victims of August’s hurricane Irene), and proceeded to find ourselves on and off the trail at various points.  Our three-hour hike turned into something like six.

Some complaints were heard, creaky knees and stubbed toes felt, slight thirst and hunger, tired dog tail swinging at the sight of a smile or worried look.  I’d like to think we all took the misadventure of our adventure in stride.  I’d like to feel we grew to know one another just a tad bit better.