Fall’s first half: notes from Granite State Walker

First published at granitestatewalker.com

My autumn began with a trip upstate as the leaves began turning. As October ends, I’m near the Massachusetts border, where red and orange foliage has yielded to gold and bronze. The sunlight through the leaves these days creates a glowing aura around everything.

First stop: North Country

Three days on the Ammonoosuc and Presidential trails in early fall added up to 30 miles of walking for me, punctuated with unexpected meetings. Amazing, the encounters I’ve had walking through New Hampshire. 

The Ammonoosuc trail follows – you guessed it – the Ammonoosuc River. While checking out the three newest miles of the trail east of Littleton, I met a couple I know from the NH Rail Trail Coalition. We were pleased to see that the new section, between Cottage Street and Oxbow Drive, has a great surface that will be especially helpful to anyone biking the Cross New Hampshire Adventure Trail. The following day, I met up with yet another NHRTC colleague while on a gravelly Ammonoosuc stretch between Lisbon and Bath. That surface is in the process of being upgraded from gravel to a smoother crushed stone. Can’t happen soon enough, as far as I’m concerned. My feet took a bit of a beating that day. I gave them a rest as I ate my lunch under the picturesque Bath covered bridge.

I was in the Pondicherry Wildlife Refuge a few months ago, when Joe-Pye weed and Queen Anne’s lace were blooming all along the Presidential rail trail. When I returned in early fall, nearly all the blossoms were gone, except for a couple of hardy little asters holding out against the equinox. Milkweed pods had burst and left their seeds floating across Moorhen Marsh. Frost had nipped the north country and its mosquitoes, making the walk to Cherry Pond even more pleasant than usual. My last view of the pond had been when it was covered with water lilies. This time, the pond was a mirror for Mt. Starr King and the Pliny Range.

If I were to search this blog’s sixteen years of posts, I’d probably find a dozen photos of the views from the Cherry Pond observation deck. Even when I know I’m standing in the same place and pointing the camera in the same direction as I did on an earlier walk, I’ll get a unique image: different light, different season, different shades of earth and sky.

Pond reflecting nearby mountain range in New Hampshire
Cherry Pond, Jefferson NH: looking north toward Mt. Starr King
Boardwalk trail through hemlock forest
Mud Pond Trail, Jefferson NH

I decided to re-visit Mud Pond trail, also in the wildlife refuge but north of Cherry Pond, with its trailhead off of NH Route 116. I was there some years ago when it was brand-new and awaiting finishing touches. Now, it’s a small gem. Bonus: it’s designed to be accessible to anyone in a wheelchair, with switchbacks and boardwalks and easy grades along its half-mile length. It ends at Mud Pond, which really deserves a better name even though it looks unremarkable. It’s pretty and peaceful, and the observation deck must be a birdwatcher’s dream.

Walking for a cause

Mid-October, I walked 13 miles on the Rockingham Recreation Trail in Auburn, Candia, and Raymond with a group raising funds for the Light of Life shelter in Manchester. We couldn’t have picked a better October day. From a foggy sunrise over Lake Massabesic all the way to full midday sunshine in Raymond, I enjoyed good company.

I hadn’t passed by the old Raymond Depot in awhile, and it was fun to see it again. The littlest rail car – I call it a putt-putt, though it probably has a more dignified name – always looks a little lost on the siding, dwarfed by the more conventional rail cars nearby. They’re all part of the old rail line’s history, so they all belong there.

One piece at a time

Just a few days ago, I attended a ribbon-cutting for a trail in Salem, New Hampshire. A trail segment, to be more precise. A 300-foot segment, if you must know. 

Okay, let the eye-rolls commence. But I drove the better part of an hour to be there, because getting that segment finished took years, and I wanted to thank the people who had made it happen. This is the Salem (NH) Bike-Ped Corridor at the Massachusetts state line. Its significance: it’s the south end of what will someday be the Granite State Rail Trail extending from Salem all the way to Lebanon, just this side of Vermont.

A piece of the Salem trail is already in use further north of the newly-christened segment, extending into Windham and Derry. This is the same old rail line that includes what’s now the Londonderry rail trail, which will someday connect with the South Manchester trail, which will someday connect with yet-to-be-built trails in Hooksett and Bow and Concord, finally connecting with the Northern Rail Trail that’s already complete from Boscawen to Lebanon. 

This is how long trails are built, whether they’re remote or urban, flat or mountainous: one piece at a time, even if some of those pieces are only be 300 feet long. Over time, those pieces add up.

Trailside garden with fall chrysanthemums in bloom in various colors, with a sign for the Salem (NH) Bike-Ped Trail
Garden along Salem (NH) Bike-Ped Trail

I seldom get to Salem, so I spent time after the ribbon-cutting ceremony walking south along the Bike-Ped corridor into Methuen, Massachusetts. It was easy to ignore the traffic noise from nearby heavily-developed Route 28. Instead, I concentrated on the sights, sounds, and fresh clean smells of the wetlands and pocket parks along the way. 

“Past peak,” say the foliage reports. Don’t you believe it.

Yellow and brown vine leaf, autumn colors
October in New Hampshire: this trailside vine wasn’t ready to give up its fall color.

“I didn’t get into this to be silent”

Adapted from a post originally published at leavenfortheloaf.com

I came to the Pregnancy Resource Center of the Monadnock Region (PRC) at the invitation of executive director Evelyn Konig. It’s just north of Main Street in Keene, New Hampshire, in a neatly-maintained little office building that looks like it once served as someone’s home. I stepped through the office’s open door and found a woman busily sorting through a pile of clothes – Evelyn herself, doing what needed doing outside of regular office hours.

“Hello! We just got a big donation of baby clothes and now my boutique ladies are going to have to figure out where they’ll go.” Warm and energetic, she welcomed me into the office as though I were an old friend. 

My visit stretched into several hours as our conversation flowed. Evelyn constantly made reference to the PRC’s board, to her staff, to the local churches that support the PRC; she kept pointing outward. Her energy filled the room.

She’s a doula, a manager, and a fundraiser. She’s outspoken, yet a careful listener. “Nobody left me notes” when she came to the PRC. Now, she could write a book full of her own notes, if she were so inclined.

A new facility

At the time I visited, the PRC was in the middle of an expansion into several new rooms. “I prayed for this place for ten years,” Evelyn told me.  “We’re growing in width, but I want to grow in depth.”

There was no wasted space. Every room had a purpose. Windows were large, making each room sunny and welcoming. Furnishings were arranged to foster comfort and conversation. 

One room in particular struck me with its home-like atmosphere. Evelyn confirmed that it was a place for private conversation and client confidentiality. “This is where we will do parenting classes, where we’ll go through the Bible with them, talk about choices and what their alternatives are. Anything and everything has been talked about in this room. Even if [the clients] are not churchgoers…they say ‘it’s so nice here. I can breathe here.’” 

Support for the work

She’s a careful shopper for the PRC, and she puts out the word when she’s looking for something special. “My desk and office furniture all came from donations.” 

Fundraising is not something with which Evelyn’s comfortable. “I call it stress-raising, not fundraising. …[I concentrate on it] only one day during the year, and that’s our banquet. [The rest of the time] if you want to give, give; that’s between you and God. My plan is to pray and ask God to provide.”

At the time I visited, larger needs ranged from recruiting a medical director to finding a large table to accommodate meetings. Smaller donations for ongoing needs such as clothing and diapers were being dropped off as the facility expansion was in progress. Piece by piece, one project at a time, this center is adapting to the needs of its community.

A spectrum of services

Evelyn said that of the pregnant women she has worked with in her decades of service, “the majority have chosen life for their babies. And a lot of it is that I think they know we’re here. I meet with every single client. I am not an office person. I’m a minister.”

Women approach the PRC at a time of vulnerability and uncertainty about carrying a pregnancy to term. “Even if they’re still kind of unsure, we tell them ‘you’re unsure because you’re unsure of your support.’” The PRC team is ready to listen and respond.

The women on staff come from backgrounds that include recovery coaching and post-abortion counseling. Nurses are on staff so that ultrasounds can be done onsite as part of pregnancy counseling. The counseling is provided on a confidential basis by client advocates who are trained in trauma-informed care. The PRC is a Christian ministry, welcoming clients of any faith. Services are available, not imposed: “We don’t push anything,” Evelyn said. 

Her husband, a pastor, “started this journey with me.” He volunteers as a pastoral counselor, adding to the PRC’s range of services. Evelyn is happy to work with church leaders, and to challenge them when necessary. “They don’t get this in seminary. They need to be taught about offering compassion and hope” to women and girls with unexpected pregnancies. 

To no one’s surprise, the center can provide diapers, wipes, and other baby-care things. There’s a boutique with clothing for babies and toddlers, and even a few maternity outfits.

It’s what comes after the birth that can surprise someone unfamiliar with PRCs. In the postpartum period, “we do an after-baby check. A lot of times we’ll do a meal train, so we’ll have meals going out to them. I drop off diapers so I can see what their environment is, how they’re doing. And then about the fourth week, a couple of weeks before they go to their six-week [postpartum] check, they’ll be coming in and finishing their parenting classes, sitting down and meeting with an advocate, and just hanging out with us.”

Those parenting classes are not just for young parents. “More and more grandparents are having custody of children.” 

Life-skills training is key. Evelyn said an important thing is “help our moms finish their education.” Then there’s budgeting; “a lot don’t know how to do that.” Clients are encouraged to honor appointments at the PRC and at outside agencies as well.  “Our point is, let us help you understand your importance, by showing up for yourself. Because you’re not just showing up for yourself. You’re showing up for your child.”

She wants to offer as many services as possible in-house. “Why am I going to give the woman a safe place to be, a safe place to unload her emotions, a safe place to tell us what’s going on, gain her trust, and then ship her to another social [agency] that doesn’t have that?”

Even so, the PRC maintains working relationships within the community and with state agencies like the Department of Health and Human Services. Locally, the PRC has had referrals from a nearby domestic violence prevention center.

When it comes to clients’ needs for transportation and housing, Evelyn doesn’t hesitate to reach out. “What we can’t do, our donors can do.” 

The PRC is affiliated with several nationwide pregnancy care networks and with a group of southern New Hampshire pregnancy care centers. These coalitions help with training and mutual support for the PRC staff.

Standing ready

I asked Evelyn if she kept the PRC’s address off of social media, in view of attacks on some pregnancy care centers since the 2022 Dobbs Supreme Court decision. Her answer was an emphatic No.  

“I said to my board ‘God put us here.’ We cannot say ‘what if, what if.’ We have to step out in faith. And if we don’t step out in faith, then by us not doing the job we’ve been called to, for a woman to have another abortion, do you want to be silent? I didn’t get into this to be silent.

“I’m just very careful not to own the ministry, because it’s not mine, it’s His. He opened it up with hearts that were obedient, and when the day comes when it closes, I hope that’s when abortion is unthinkable. Until then, I tell the ladies ‘keep oil in your lamps….and work like it’s your last day.’ And they do.  

“I don’t know what the future holds for me. God is telling me stand ready.”


Header image: pexels.com

New Hampshire conference: “Abortion and the Church – Gather to Listen, Gather to Heal”

I’m looking forward to listening and learning at an event being held next month a few miles up the road from me. St. Theresa Catholic Church in Henniker, New Hampshire will host “Abortion and the Church: Gather to Listen, Gather to Heal” on October 28, 2023, from 9 a.m. to 2 p.m.

There’s no cost for the conference, but pre-registration is required. Read more about the conference at the parish website, showerofroses.org, or email words4salt@gmail.com.

The formal announcement of the event called it “a healing conference.” May it be so for everyone involved. I’ll be there.