Halfway up a steep, rocky path in Rhode Island the other day, I took an exaggerated deep breath, turned to my hiking companions and observed, “No wonder this is called Breakheart Hill.”
Legend has it .
The water’s really not THAT cold, I mumbled last Jan. 1, while running with a lemming-like mob toward frigid Palmer Cove in Noank.
I’ve been telling myself the same lie every New Year’s Day, and every.
Within minutes of hitting the trail at the Perry Natural Area in Stonington last week, our group approached a broad swath of princess pine, an evergreen groundcover that resembles a grove of miniature.
Why hike and paddle in one state when you can hit the trail and water in two – all in the same day, from a single starting point?
This outing was inspired not long ago, when I drove east on Route 165 .
A spring peeper frog’s shrill chirp pierced the still air the other day, as four of us hiked near a marsh at Pequot Woods in Groton.
“It’s fall, not spring. What’s a peeper doing out now?” I asked.
“H.