I am always amazed to return to a place and realize I had not been there for sixteen years. Yet, as we start out from the trailhead I begin to remember bits of the trail, and views from the summit and what our hike was like previously.

On our last visit to this mountain October 8 2001 we felt a winter chill in the air. Leaves were turning and dropping and we marveled from above as we watched flocks of Snow Geese flying across the lakes thousands of feet below us. That night we had a dusting of snow that lasted through the next day.

This hike was not like our previous visit, on this hike we had bluebird skies, and although there was a breeze which kept things cool, the temps were perfect for hiking. September may be the best hiking month of all!

Wicket and I took off ahead of the group and we ascended quickly through the forest as memory clips of my previous hikes here. I say "hikes" as there was one other time we attempted to make this hike.

It was deep winter and there was fresh, powdery snow. As we started out breaking trail we soon realized that the powdery snow was caking on Emma's thick coat. Before we had gone a half a mile she was easily carrying her own body-weight in snow. We turned around and gave up on hiking that day.

With these happy, but somewhat bittersweet recollections I rose through the forest with Wicket. Comparing her to Emma who willingly and happily trotted beside us for so many miles would be unfair to both. She's not better, not worse, just different. She is becoming a good trail dog, and that is all I can ask of her.

As she and I broke out of the trees and stepped out onto the open summit ledge I thought of all the things which had transpired in my life since last standing on there. The birth of a granddaughter who would now turn sixteen in a few days. The life and passing of our beloved dog Emma. The unexpected passing of my oldest son. The decline and passing of my mom. The marriage of my youngest.

The years danced in my head and swam before my eyes. It seems returning to the mountains will always bring mixed emotions now. The joy that we are still blessed with the ability to hike as we get older. Still able to get out and enjoy what once was so prominent a part of our lives. But but returning brings memories that were shared with someone no longer with us, and transposed with the sadness of things now gone and never to be again.

Fortunately I was not left long with these thoughts for very long as there were people and other dogs and a new dog at my feet who was in need of some "Summit Behavior" training. In other words, being kept busy with treats and commands to keep her from visiting other hiker's packs and lunches. We were soon joined by the rest of our group arriving in two's a few minutes apart.

While Wicket gobbled up more treats and food than was provided for the human participants I extolled the virtues of an Almond & Caramel Core Kind Bar. The views from this low summit are superb, and were most excellent this day despite a smoky haze to our south, sadly brought to us by wildfires in the northwestern United States.

We stood and gazed as we named mountains and lakes all while gathering a new appreciation of why the area is known as "The Rangeley Lakes and Western Mountains Region of Maine." We stayed a good while taking in the views and sharing stories, but eventually we made our way back down the trail.

It had been a great way to spend the morning, but overnight winds had calmed and smoothed out the choppy lake, and afternoon boat rides on a huge, empty lake, complete with appetizers and cocktails was sounding too good to put off any longer!