An open letter to my local multi-use trail

I’m writing this letter to tell you that I’m sorry. Sorry that I wrote you off as just another multi-use trail. That I judged you for your growing shrine of poop bags (individually wrapped, allegedly biodegradable).  

I’m sorry that I quietly resented you for compelling me to put a bell on my mountain bike when your quiet New England charm attracted new admirers for hiking, biking, and trail-running. Or that your etiquette made me feel strange shouting “I’m alone!” to confused hikers as I passed by.

Most of all, I’m sorry I ghosted you after you gave me stitches (I should have been wearing protection, after all). I was just upset I won a trip to the E.R. instead of a KOM.

The truth is, I may never know another trail like I know you. Your curves. Your gaps. Your jagged edges. From the creek-bed where I screamed in the night, when I mistook a grey squirrel for a black bear, to your perfectly imperfect rock gardens where we rehearsed our delicate dance of granite, root, and rubber - you’ll always have a place in my heart. 

Stay gold, multi-use trail. 

Fondly,

Mark