Given the attention grabbing title, I’ll lead with some spoilers. Yes, we saw a snake. Yes, Wesley almost stepped on it. No, it did not bite us. With that out of the way, I’ll start from the beginning. The kids have had a listless summer vacation thus far and I had the week of Independence Day off from work. These two factors resulted in my decision to require they join me on a hike that Friday. There was much protesting, whining, and complaining but they eventually relented and agreed when I reminded them that I control the internet access for the entire house. As an aside, to the new Moms and Dads out there; Do NOT give up control of the router. Take the time to learn how it works, how to control it, and how to block certain devices based on IP/MAC address. Eventually it will be your only leverage.

So with the threat of restricted internet access, they capitulated and agreed to be dragged along. We didn’t get to the trail until about 1pm and it was a fairly warm day, high 80’s and sunny. We parked at the Southern most roadside parking along Randolph Ave. The plan was to take care of the two dew-drop shaped trail loops between Hawk Hill and the Great Cedar Swamp that junction off from #3072; with hopefully a few extra trails for good measure. The grumpy-teen-o-meter was near max levels so the kids were vacillating regularly between several different modes. Penny focused mainly on the ‘my brother is the most annoying human being on the planet’ mode, with occasional visits to ‘gleefully impish’ and ‘detached introvert’. Wesley divided his time evenly between ‘random unplanned thoughts about life, the universe, and everything; spoken aloud without filter’ mode and ‘ask Penny lots of questions about why they are so annoyed at me’ mode. These modes created some pretty tense moments during the trek, but in between the various schisms, there was plenty of actual good moments and loving interactions. Gotta take the good with the bad I guess.

Aside from the disgruntled teens, the hike itself had a few challenges. We overshot the Southern connecting trail between Laurel Path and Braintree Pass Path and had to double-back after we bumped into I-93. We had no problem finding the connecting path at the bottom of Branch Path, but the turn onto Streamside Edge Path was not clearly marked and there was some hunting to find where it branched off as the connecting path continued on well past the junction even though it wasn’t officially marked on trail map. Credit goes to Wesley for spotting that path through the overgrown foliage. By this time, the kids were done with their outdoor adventuring and made it clear that there would be a violent uprising if the pursuit of a few extra trails after these two loops wasn’t swiftly abandoned. I too was suffering in the late afternoon heat so I begrudgingly agreed. Around this time is when we encountered Mr. Snake, quite accidentally. There was much arguing about who was actually navigating our adventure and who got to hold onto my printed map with section marks. I was well ahead of the exhausted teens on the trail when Wesley let lose with genuinely shocked expletive. We all quickly turned around to see a handsome gray and brown spotted snake. It had probably been enjoying a nice sunbath on the open trail but it had now curved up its front portion into a tense S-shape while it’s tail was rattling around in the leaves. We gave it plenty of room as it weaved its way into the underbrush while we were able to snap a few pics and a quick video. Some post-hike Googling with our pictures let us identify it as an Eastern Milk Snake; completely harmless to the point where they are often kept as pets. They do a good job of faking that they are rattlesnakes when threatened by shaking their tails rapidly along the ground or leaves, but they are non-venomous and only grow to about three feet long, which was roughly the size of the one we almost trampled on.

After the snake scare and the teen uprising, we headed back to the car after a roughly 5 mile hike. Average for me, but the kids acted like they had scaled Everest. In a genius move of parental planning, I insisted we all grab our swimsuits and towels so we could cap off the trip with a dip in Houghton’s Pond. Even this plan was met with some reluctance, but once they both got in the water, tempers and bodies both cooled off effectively. In fact, this post-hike dip felt so good that I plan to route as many mid-Summer hikes as I can with start/stop points at Houghton’s pond to allow for this pleasant cool off. The announced closure of the bathhouse prompted us to dry off and head home.

I recruited my friends Jamie and Doug to join me on a post-Independence Day hike. We met up at the small parking lot at the corner of Chickatawbut and Randolph. Once we hit the trail and I started up all the apps, I cautioned them that everything we say is recorded and posted to YouTube. There was a brief pause of consideration, and then we proceeded to have the same uncensored chats us middle-aged guys have all the time, which varies from middle-school level “that’s what she said” and bathroom jokes to the more serious crap that no one under 40 is worried about – yet. The weather was warmer and muggier than expected but it was slightly overcast with just enough of a breeze for occasional cooling relief. The guys were patient with my seemingly random route that was plotted out to fill in the blanks from previous days hikes. They did heartily join in on the trail marker selfies and hammed it up reliably. We spent most of our time hiking up and down Chickatawbut Hill and around the Chickatawbut Tower. The Tower was closed off with an impressive locking system that we all stopped to examine and discuss potential weaknesses should we want to crack it open. The hike included the complete path around the fenced off Norman Smith EEC and it’s associated summer camp. After our second descent down Chickatawbut, we did a small side loop formed by Bouncing Brook, Braintree Pass, and Lee Path. As I write out this synopsis, I’m realizing it’s much shorter than usual. Not because little was discussed, but because so much was discussed that to delve into it a little would cause me to delve into all of it. So if you really want a more in-depth review of the hike and our discussions, fire up the video and enjoy the fly-on-the-wall experience of three Dads walking in the woods.

As a gift for Father’s Day, my kids decided to gleefully join me on a short afternoon hike. NOT! I coerced and blackmailed my kids who reluctantly agreed to come with me only because it was Father’s Day. They are 17 and 14 so I’ll take what I can get at this point. It was a quick hike, less than 3 miles. The main purpose of this hike was to cover a few missing segments in the 4000’s section of Blue Hills. Namely a short connector trail I skipped by accident on Day 8; the path between #4155 and #4202 that crosses Wamputuck Road; and the trail along the East side of St. Moritz Pond. With these segments knocked off, I’d be done with the 4000’s save the Skyline Trail. The kids had a good time being goofy and overall enjoyed the hike, but they have zero stamina. Lots of whining and complaining by the time the hike was over. This was partially may fault as I botched my navigation duty and took us up a super steep part of the Skyline Trail to Rattle Rock, but then got turned around and took us down the same path by accident. When I got to the bottom I realized my mistake and had them re-scale the rocky grade back to the top. Oops. Still, not a bad way to spend Father’s Day.

Blogging is lots of work and I’m behind on my posts so this description will be short and sweet, comparatively. For the first time in this Challenge, I parked in an unofficial, non-approved, non-DCR spot. It was both thrilling and stressful. There was a half-leased / half-empty industrial building on Wood Road in Quincy. The sign there said parking was for patron’s only but the deli shop that used to be there was shut down so I figured no harm no foul. I scribbled out a quick note an index card and left it on the dash pleading my case. “Hiking in Blue Hills. Please don’t tow.” Despite my written plea, I spent much of the hike wondering if my car would be there when I returned. This was a solo hike and the weather promised to be in the mid-80’s. I learned my lesson and front-loaded the majority of the elevation at the beginning. There was lots of back and froth on several tributary trails so I probably only knocked off 4 miles of actual trails. The biggest section here was I circled the Great Cedar Swamp via the Laurel Path and the Hemlock Path. On the map there is a tiny little connecting path between these two trails that parallels I-93 and this was probably the worst trail I’ve been on so far. The trail was barely there and what was there was sandwiched between swampland and a chain link fence. This is also the lowest elevation point of the Great Cedar Swamp so the bugs were thick in the air. Despite being covered in DEET, they were still buzzing around me. They DEET kept them from actually stinging and biting, but they were still a nuisance as they flew in my eyes, nose, and ears. I found that keeping a swift pace would let me actually outrun the bugs and keep them from dive bombing me. At one point, the trail went right through a huge patch of marsh mud but luckily someone had cut through the chain link fence here allowing me to skirt around the bog. At another point, there were remnants of what was at one point a sturdy footbridge, but as of today, it was a collapsing deathtrap of rotting wood and exposed spikes. Just like I learned my lesson with elevation, I am now paying closer attention to the little symbols for marsh and swamp land on the trail map. Once I connected with the south end of Hemlock Path, conditions were greatly improved. It was an easy hike back to my car which thankfully had not been towed away.