Hiking at Dusk: Morgan & Percival
It was never supposed to be like this.
Nine years ago, I fled Massachusetts to take a job in Vermont. I choose to leave the city, my friends, and my family behind to pursue outdoor recreation sans traffic, attitudes, pollution, and suburbia. I was running towards something, not away from something.
And it was amazing. There is something to be said for radical change. Dreaming up an idea and taking a risk. It is nice to have the freedom to do so rather than feeling trapped, without a dream to pursue — the locked down oppressive feeling I have come to know so well.
Seven years ago, I moved to central New Hampshire, sandwiched between the lakes and the mountains. Two hours or less from almost every ski area that I cared to ski, forty minutes from my favorite mountain. A perfect location. I once dreamily stated that it would be great if this specific position in this specific location opened up and I could get the job. And I did.
It was the last time that I could rely on haphazard circumstance to determine my direction. Which was fine for a few years. What was once endless enthusiasm for my work and my play carried me through four great years. But the last three years have been a grind professionally and personally — a grind that has had serious effects on my health.
But I think I am on the mend.



