I spent those first years, immersed every day in noticing subtle changes in people, managing pain, encouraging patients to rest, helping families through some of their most difficult times and knowing when someone needs extra support.

As I transitioned into the ICU level of care, those skills became even more important.

The Burn Unit was a special place where staff were family and patients were with us for extended time, sometimes months.

My very first ICU patient was with me for 9 months! I got to know her family well and was able to help them through one of the most challenging things they had ever experienced.

Unfortunately, while nurses are excellent at anticipating the needs of others and taking such thoughtful care of people, they often push through their own exhaustion to the detriment of their physical and mental health.

Years of stress, shift work and putting myself last eventually caught up with me.

After a year of working nearly constant overtime in that same busy metropolitan hospital, my health took a turn. My health finally forced me to pay attention and suddenly I was dealing with diagnoses and medications I hadn’t expected.

It didn’t take long for me to realize that being capable of functioning depleted doesn’t equal being well.

And in medicine, it can sometimes be seen as a badge of honor, honestly. How much you can take before you need time off, how much sleep you can lose before you’re tired and how much coffee you can consume without eating (since consistent breaks aren’t the norm).

Truthfully it took a pandemic to shake me loose from most of these habits, but not completely.

Then midlife came in hot.

It forced my hand into listening to my body, instead of expecting it would continue to accommodate my bad choices.

You can function while depleted, but that doesn’t mean you’re okay.

Nurses are incredible at functioning in less-than-ideal circumstances. We work tired. We work hungry. We work sore. We work stressed and emotionally drained.

But functioning isn’t the same as thriving.

It’s easy to normalize exhaustion for many reasons. Things like becoming a new parent or working long shifts, for instance. It’s also easy to just keep going and get it all done.

But the truth is, that isn’t serving your long-term health. It is just asking your body to compensate for your bad habits.

Midlife changes finally got me thinking like a nurse toward myself and giving myself grace. Grace to say no when something didn’t align with my goals for myself. Grace to have a bad day and not give up on the goal.

Eventually, I came to understand – Your ability to push through something doesn’t make pushing though the right choice.

Rest is part of the plan, not something you earn.

You know what happens when I wait to rest until my to do list is done? I never rest. I collapse at the end of the night exhausted, often repeatedly.

I hear myself telling patients they must rest to heal. It took me a while to take my own advice though.

These days, I take rest more seriously.

I’ll cancel a hike if I don’t feel well or did too much this week.

I’ll hit the bed at 8:30 pm if I’m just tired – even though my husband hates it 😉

I’ll spend half a morning lying on the couch with a cat, a book and a coffee after a long stretch of shifts, if it feels right.

Turns out, rest lets me do more of the things I care about anyway.

The basics matter more than the perfect wellness routine.

I’ve seen enough health information over the last 23 years, including becoming a wellness coach myself for a while, to understand there isn’t one solution to every problem. It’s often a combination of basic habits that add up to major improvements.

Those things you might call boring add up quickly:

• Eating healthy foods most of the time

• Getting enough protein

• Drinking enough water every day (even I struggle with this one)

• Quality sleep

• Moving your body daily

• Managing your stress

• Spending time outside

• Doing the things you genuinely enjoy

I get it. Habits are hard sometimes. Life gets in our way. But if I can just be consistent MOST of the time, my health is better for it.

The biggest takeaway is: your health is often built through ordinary choices on repeat than through dramatic overhauls.

Strength and mobility are investments in your future self.

Just today, I had a patient with a broken hip. He is a very active 80-year-old man, so I know he has something working strongly in his favor: decades of activity and muscle.

That muscle is going to be the thing that helps him work through the post-operative exercises. The protective nature of muscle building is never clearer than in a situation like this.

I have seen this repeatedly – someone who barely moves before an injury, certainly doesn’t get stronger afterwards. But when you start with that strength and discipline, you heal quicker and get back to the life you love.

I now focus my strength training specifically on helping me do things I want to do. Everything from tying my shoes (IYKYK) to hiking up 2500ft of elevation for a snack with a view.

I want to be able to do all the things when I’m 80-years-old too.

I no longer care what my body looks like, to some degree, but what she can do.

I don’t exercise because I’m trying to become someone else. I exercise to give future me as many options as possible.

You don’t have to wait until something is wrong to pay attention.

In my nursing life, we are intervening after something has already happened.

I’m much more in tune now with my body – I love a good wearable tech to help me notice patterns I might have otherwise missed.

I watch my sleep, stress, strength, menstrual cycles and recovery. I pay attention to my patterns and adjust things as needed to avoid bigger issues down the line.

It can be easy for nurses to dismiss symptoms because we see so many people with serious issues. But here’s the truth: Your health is your most important asset so take it seriously.

Caring for yourself may look ordinary.

Self-care doesn’t always look like what you see on Instagram. I spent many years feeling left behind because I didn’t want to do the things I was seeing other people do. Or it didn’t feel accessible to me.

The fact is self-care looks like this for me now:

• Walking daily, sometimes just the trail behind my house

• Packing food for long shifts

• Sitting outside with a coffee and watching the birds

• Taking care of my garden (or letting it be if I don’t have the energy)

• Spending a rainy day at home

• Going to bed early

• Choosing hikes based on how I feel today

• Making an ordinary dinner people want to eat

A life that supports your mental and physical health may not look impressive from the outside and that’s okay.

Taking care of yourself can change with the seasons.

And no I don’t mean summer to fall, even though that may be true as well.

Your young adult season is going to be different than your midlife season.

Your parent of young kids season will be different from your parent of teens season.

What worked at 25 doesn’t necessarily work at 48.

Your body has changed.

Your responsibilities have changed.

Your interests might even have changed.

Caring for yourself well means paying attention to who you are now, not who you once were and not who you wish you were.

So these days, I try to care for myself like Nurse Kaci would care for someone else -- pay attention, notice what’s changing and gently nudge myself toward the things that will help.

There is no revolutionary secret to wellness. Most of it comes back to consistently doing the basics:

• Listen to my body

• Rest

• Eat

• Move

• Strength train

• Ask for help

• Spend my time doing the things that make my life feel like something worth showing up for

The lesson for me wasn’t in learning the perfect system - although, man, did I try.

It was finally learning to extend some of the same care and attention to myself that I’ve spent more than two decades giving to everyone else.

I think taking care of ourselves was never supposed to be more complicated than that.

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If getting outside is one of the ways you take care of yourself too, I put together my Day Hike Packing List with the essentials I actually carry on the trail.

GET THE DAY HIKE PACKING LIST

We checked the weather, planned our hike and had what we thought we would need if we got chilly.

I knew that the weather could change in the mountains.

I just didn’t understand yet how quickly.

We were hiking up the Ammonoosuc Ravine Trail toward the Lakes of the Clouds in New Hampshire, where we planned to spend the night before summiting Mt. Washington the next morning.

While not a long trail, the elevation gain is significant at over 900 ft/mile. For me, that means I need to get ready to WORK for the goal.

While we were hiking up, clouds started moving in. We thought we might see some rain, so our goal became – get to the hut before the weather turns.

We made it just in time to summit Mt. Monroe, which sits very close to the hut, even though it was completely socked in. It was my first 4000-footer summit in New Hampshire and while proud, I was spent.

We settled into the hut for the night, set up our bunks and grabbed dinner.

That’s when it all changed.

The hut caretakers warned us a storm had shifted – we would be getting a major drop in temperature and increase in wind overnight. Suddenly our plan to summit Mt Washington the following day wasn’t looking possible.

I spent the night listening to the winds slam the doors of the hut and wondering how in the world we would get back down the mountain.

By morning, the forecast included 90mph gusts on the summit.

We changed the plan.

Luckily, the caretakers are skilled at assisting hikers and they were able to give us accurate weather updates, help us understand the conditions and choose a safer route back to the car.

At the time, this felt like a dramatic change to a trip we had carefully planned, but looking back it became one of the biggest lessons I’ve learned as a hiker:

The forecast you hoped for doesn’t matter. The weather you actually get does.

I’m not here to help you become a meteorologist, I’m just a regular hiker who has learned the hard way to check certain things before I commit to a trail – and be willing to change the plan when those things tell me I should.

Here’s what I do:

Start with the regular forecast

First, I check the regular weather app I use at home. This will give you a general guideline for what the next few days look like. Personally, I like Weather Underground – I’ve found it to be the most accurate for rain and hourly forecasts. Whatever app you like is fine, this is just my preference and to be honest, my husband and I disagree 😉

Look for trends, like storms that may be coming and probability of rain. This is just the first pass and you can begin a week out or so. At this point I’m looking for trends, not getting emotionally attached to the hike day yet.

Then I check the forecast for the actual mountain.

This is where things start to matter more. Elevation changes the weather a LOT. It gets colder, can be windier and in the White Mountains weather can get stuck in certain spots, like Franconia Notch. The more you look at this stuff, the better you get at seeing the patterns.

I also check National Weather Service (NWS) because it separates forecasts by elevation and includes metrics like wind, gusts, cloud cover, rain and summit temps. All of these will help you make safe decisions before heading out. 45 degrees with full sun and no wind is VERY different than 45 degrees, full cloud cover and 20 mph winds.

In the White Mountains, I also check the Higher Summits Forecast

When in the White Mountains, I also check the Mount Washington Observatory Higher Summits Forecast (MWOBS). This resource is specific to the area and updates twice daily. Mount Washington is known to have the world’s worst weather so they know what they are talking about! They even provide trail cam footage at some of the White Mountain summits.

I look again for things like:

• Summit temps

• Wind speeds

• Wind gusts

• Wind chill (VERY important)

• Cloud cover

• Rain/snow/ice

• Timing of weather changes

And don’t skip the forecast discussion. It dives deeper into weather timing and nuance that the charts miss. Think of it like reading the whole article instead of just the headline, if you will. The more aware you are of weather and potential changes, the better prepared you’ll be out there.

I pay particular attention to the wind

You may have noticed there were three wind metrics I check before a hike. Here’s why: Wind creates temperature differences AND safety issues when on exposed ridges. Yes, temperature and rain are important, but I consider the wind the biggest factor for both comfort AND safety. When you’re above treeline and the wind picks up, it’s a very particular kind of feeling!

I try to look where a trail might be exposed, what gusts are predicted to be in that area when I plan to be there and whether I want to be above treeline at that time. This is one area where I might pivot to another trail or cancel a hike altogether if needed.

Look at when the weather is changing

I also check the hourly forecast. When is the rain going to start? Is the wind picking up at a certain time? Is the temperature predicted to drop at a certain point? Might wet rocks get icy with the wind?

This helps you to choose your start times wisely – it might mean an early start, so you’re off trail by the time weather rolls in. MWOBS recently wrote an article about how quickly summit temps can hit freezing and turn those damp surfaces icy and you want to make sure you know!

Check everything again

The night before and the morning of the hike, I check everything again. I have all the apps organized into a folder on my phone, so they are easy to find and access. So again, here’s how I check:

• General forecast

• NWS mountain forecast

• Higher Summits (MWOBS)

• Summit cams, if available

The forecast I checked three days ago doesn’t matter if the weather has changed overnight.

Match the weather to the hike

You get to decide if a hike is in your skillset! So here’s where you use your experience to make the best choice for YOU. If the weather above treeline makes a hike unattainable for you, you can always pivot to a sheltered, wooded trail and still get outside.

Just like mileage doesn’t tell you everything about a trail, a single weather check doesn’t either. it’s smart to consider all the other factors that make a hike comfortable and fun: terrain, exposure, elevation, bailouts and even your own experience level.

Changing the plan isn’t failing a hike

Phew! I know that was a lot of information if you haven’t considered mountain weather this way before.

But you don’t have to go nuts trying to become an expert.

And you certainly don’t have to hike above treeline or choose big, exposed mountains in order for your hike to count.

You just need to be prepared for the hike you do choose.

Take the time to explore and learn new skills that will keep you heading outside more often. And the ones that will keep you safe while you do it.

Because here’s the thing: Changing the plan isn’t failing the hike.

You can always choose to stay at a lower elevation, do a shorter hike or even just hike another day.

Just like my own Mt. Washington story, the summit wasn’t the point.

I still hiked the Ammonoosuc Ravine Trail. I still stayed at Lakes of the Clouds. I still summited my first New Hampshire 4000-footer.

And I still had an incredible experience without putting myself on Mt. Washington in 90 mph gusts, just because that was the original plan.

These days, I am more comfortable making these types of decisions. I learned to check the mountain weather in a systematic way and it’s made me more confident in my trail decisions instead of just hoping for the best.

You don’t need to be an expert to make better hiking decisions; you just need to know where to look.

My “before I leave” weather checklist:

• Trailhead forecast

• Summit/elevation forecast

• Temps

• Wind speeds/wind gusts

• Wind chill

• Rain/storm timing

• Cloud cover

• Current conditions

And then I ask myself one final question:

Do these conditions match the hike I chose?

Dishes.

Laundry.

Garden chores.

Kids to shuttle around.

An intentional meal.

For years I felt like this type of weekend wasted my life away in the mundane. Turns out, it was exactly what I needed.

I love a good adventure. 10-year-old Kaci definitely dreamed of world travel. And the truth is, I’m about to fly across the country and leave my family to their own devices for a hiking adventure in the mountains of Washington. But I don’t want every weekend of my life to feel like something I have to maximize to feel like I’m living.

There is this sort of invisible pressure to make all your free time productive or memorable in some way, and honestly, I JUST had this conversation with my 16-year-old. He is noticing the feeling that he wants more adventure than our life is currently providing (and I love that insight for him!). It turned into a nice conversation about how and why I am choosing this hiking homebody life intentionally, but he doesn’t have to. He can make his own life the way he desires when he becomes an adult. That’s the beauty of it!

Life is all about choices and in midlife I am more intentional with how I spend my time. I don’t want to succumb to the pressure to do something worth talking about, go somewhere epic or make the most of every good weather day. I’m done feeling guilty when everyone online seems to be doing something better than me (at home AND on adventures).

In some ways, it feels like we have turned our downtime into something else we have to be good at. A performance, if you will. And I’m not immune to it. Sharing my life online means I’m often documenting what I’m doing too. It can easily turn an experience into something to capture instead of something to live. I’m learning to notice that too.

I’m beginning to see that adventure shouldn’t feel like an obligation (to myself or to the ‘gram). It should feel like something I GET to do. I want it to feel like the gift it is... Every. Single. Time.

“I get to hike today”

versus

“It’s the weekend and the weather is good, so I must hike somewhere epic”

Forcing myself to make each experience bigger and better was making me feel icky and more importantly, it was taking some of the joy out of the things I actually love doing.

I’ll never hike in some of the really cool places I see online and I’ll never travel to some of the countries I dreamed I would as a kid.

But I CAN see lots of really cool places and meet lots of really cool people along the way in my everyday hiking homebody life.

And guess what? My son can absolutely seek an adventure-filled life, and I’ll be cheering him on the whole way!

These days, ordinary weekends with nowhere to be are some of my favorites. They might look like morning coffee chats with my husband, grocery shopping for a meal that I haven’t had time to make in a while, reading on the couch with a kitty in the middle of the day and puttering around my garden giving her a little attention too.

And I’m happy.

Happy with the life I’m creating in real time. I’m no longer measuring my life by what I’m able to accomplish or what happened this weekend. I’m measuring my life by how the mundane feels. If I can be happy folding laundry with an audiobook on a rainy Saturday, I can be happy anywhere.

At 48, I know myself better than I ever have. Life will do that for you if you let it. I’m not trying to prove to anyone my life is interesting. I’m living the life I want to keep showing up for, day after day.

I’m not trying to keep up.

I’m not trying to exhaust myself with Instagram-worthy hikes to earn rest.

I’m spending time doing things that restore me to more of myself.

I laugh sometimes at the name Hiking Homebody because it can seem like a contradiction. But the truth is, it perfectly encapsulates me.

I love spending a day on a long hike in the mountains.

I love traveling to new places.

But I also love coming home.

Maybe one is part of why I love the other so much.

I’m not choosing between adventure and a simple life.

I’m building the second half of my life where both fit. Like yin and yang.

I don’t want a life I feel like I need an escape from, and I don’t want a life where I become a hermit either. I want both.

And this is why I started sharing more online too. I’m not here to encourage people to create a life that is filled with constant adventure. I’m here to encourage people to make room for adventures in a life they already like living.

In just a couple of days, I’m leaving for another adventure and I am so excited!

I’m going to hike and explore a completely new-to-me spot. I’ll be finding my limits and stretching them where it makes sense, seeking quiet coffee time with a good view and coming home with stories galore.

When I get back, I’ll have plenty to share. What worked, what didn’t, what surprised me, and probably a few funny trail tales.

And I’ll be so happy to come home to the simple life I’ve built when it’s time.

I think that’s exactly what I’m finally figuring out. I don’t need every weekend to have a new adventure. I just want enough adventure to keep me curious – and enough simple days to make coming home feel like a warm hug.

Tell me: What does your favorite simple weekend look like?

P.S. If you found Hiking Homebody because you’re trying to get outside a little more without turning your whole life into one giant adventure, welcome. That’s pretty much what we do around here. I’ll have plenty of Washington trail stories when I get back. Subscribe and I’ll send you the next note from the trail – or the couch.

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While not life-threatening mistakes, they made the hikes less comfortable and more stressful for all involved. Some of these mistakes came from what I thought a hike was “supposed” to look like, and I learned quickly by doing it wrong at least once… sometimes more than once.

So if you’re starting to hike more, here are seven things I wish I had taken seriously sooner.

1. I chose trails based on mileage alone. When I started, I figured 4 miles is 4 miles, sure there is some elevation, but how hard can it be? Turns out really freaking hard. Figured this one out when a 3-mile trail basically went straight up took us 4 hours.

   What I learned: You have to look at total elevation gain AND elevation gain per mile. This will tell you how tough the trail is going to be. Trail conditions and technical parts of a trail affect the difficulty as well, so do your research! I find the framework I come back to for me is: under 500 ft gain/mile is approachable, around 750 ft gain/mile is moderately challenging and hitting 1000 ft/mile is going to have me taking breaks and breathing heavy the whole way. Everyone is different so start paying attention to how you feel when you hike to learn your own guidelines.

   Takeaway: Mileage simply tells you how far you’re going. It won’t necessarily tell you how hard the day will feel.

2. I thought a better hike had to be a bigger hike. Bigger isn’t always better, and I have found many smaller trails with an amazing payoff. It doesn’t have to mean more miles, more elevation or epic views.

   What I learned: Waterfalls, swimming holes, interesting trees or big rocks that make the trail memorable keep me coming back for more. Sometimes it’s a big mountain and sometimes it’s a walk around the local pond.

   Takeaway: Social media has a way of making us feel like if we aren’t choosing the most epic trails, they don’t count. But I’m here to tell you, the whole point is to get outside! You don’t have to keep making trails harder for it to keep being worthwhile.

3. I underestimated how much food and water I would need. I spent many hikes feeling shaky, exhausted and so thirsty... and wondering why the hike felt terrible.

   What I learned: I’ve learned to eat before I’m hungry, drink before I’m thirsty and use electrolytes when I need them (even in winter). And don’t get me started on bringing snacks no one else wanted to eat. You won’t want them either when you’re tired and cranky. Bring food you’re excited to have! I bring candy I don’t normally eat on hikes – the sugar helps keep me going and the rare treat keeps it fun. Protein + carbs + electrolytes keep me going on any hike.

   Takeaway: Being under-fueled doesn’t make you tougher, it mostly makes you miserable and hiking way less fun.

4. I assumed I would have cell service. I figured I had my phone, so I would pull up the map, if needed. Lots of places that are amazing to hike, aren’t near a cell tower, so your phone is basically a camera.

   What I learned: Use an app like AllTrails or Gaia to find your trail and use the offline/downloaded map feature. You can see yourself in real time that way and know if you’re off trail. If you’re not ready for that, look things up and screenshot at the very least before you go. Familiarize yourself with parking and the route before you head out.

   Takeaway: Your phone is useful, but cell service is not a foolproof plan.

5. I checked the weather at the trailhead instead of the peak. The weather where you park can be very different from where you’re headed. If you are hiking in the mountains, you have to take this into consideration before you head out.

   What I learned: The Mountain Forecast app will give you the weather at the summit. Wind, rain and temps can be quite different up high or above treeline. This information helps you to be sure you have the right gear to get you up and back safely. A warm parking lot can become a windy, cold summit pretty quickly.

   Takeaway: I don’t try to predict things. I try to give myself enough information to make a good decision.

   

These were practical mistakes I made when I started... The next two took me a bit by surprise and took me a while to figure out, because they weren’t about hiking gear or trail planning – they were about mindset.

6. I thought I was supposed to keep up. Hiking with faster people can leave you feeling behind, but the truth is your pace is your own. Every time someone had to stop and wait, I felt like I was bad at hiking.

   What I learned: People hike at all different speeds. I found my sustainable pace and it’s different on every trail. I take lots of breaks and let those faster people pass me by. This is why the phrase “Hike your own hike” is popular – because it’s true!

   Takeaway: Slow hiking isn’t beginner hiking. It’s just hiking slowly.

7. I thought changing the plan meant I had failed. I was somehow under the impression that completing whatever route I had planned meant it was a successful hike. You might change plans for weather, you’re tired, someone in the group is over it, something feels off, you ran into a bear (been there) or even if you decide today just isn’t the day for no reason. I recently had to turn back and miss the summit of Mt Waumbek. Most of the group was over it and wanted to turn back after the first summit of Mt Starr King. We all do it.

   What I learned: Changing plans is often good judgment. It doesn’t mean you aren’t a good hiker, it often means you’re becoming a more experienced hiker!

   Takeaway: The hiking plan is information. It isn’t a contract. You don’t have to finish a hike for the hike to count.

Most of my mistakes came from the belief that there is a “right” way to be a hiker. That I should be faster, hike farther, carry the right gear, always finish what I started and have that Instagram-worthy summit photo. But truthfully, the more I hike, the more I have learned what I enjoy and what works for me.

And I see that as the transition from a beginner to an experienced hiker.

Not becoming fearless (I’m still all set seeing a bear) or becoming super fit (midlife mom over here).

I’m becoming better at making decisions.

I’m learning to trust myself.

Hiking became a lot more fun when I stopped trying to fit it into the box I thought it belonged in and started building a hiking life I actually wanted to keep coming back to.

What did you learn the hard way when you started hiking?

I do not love high-maintenance gardening.

I grew up with two parents who loved gardening. My dad had a college degree in horticulture and spent most of my life puttering outside or in his greenhouse. They had their favorite plants and you could see them in patches all over our yard.

Day lilies, spiderwort, monkey grass and crepe myrtles adorned the driveway and the beds near the front of the house

.My grandparents also had a love of creating a space that was all their own. The one from Germany loved a more formal space with concrete statues and loads of juniper. The one that lived in the mountains had a massive vegetable garden and more of a homestead vibe.

I grew up in the south too, so it was a completely different climate from New England. When I moved north, I had to learn some new things to keep my garden growing. I wanted the garden to feel lush and full, but not take me hours and hours of garden chores to keep it going.

Between work, family life, travelling back and forth to the mountains and trying to have time for hiking/camping, I don’t want plants that need constant attention.

Over the years, I have naturally started repeating some of the plants that can survive my particular brand of gardening – sometimes wildly attentive, sometimes ignored for a week. If something needs me to remember an exact pruning schedule, needs constant feeding or seventeen other rules, we probably aren’t going to have a long relationship.

These are the plants I find I buy again and again (both at home and in the mountains) because they look good, come back reliably and mostly get on with life without me.

Catmint

I stumbled upon this one at the nursery at some point and I’m so glad I did! She has soft purple flowers that bloom for a long stretch of summer. Pollinators love her and spend long lazy afternoons checking out her tiny flowers. She spreads into a large mound over a few years and doesn’t require you to baby her all summer.

HH take: Use Catmint when you want something to make a bed look fuller without having to think too hard about it. Catmint is one of those things that make it look like I have a much more intentional garden than I do ;)

One downside: She can look a little messy in August, when she is done flowering, but I just let her be. Truthfully, my garden is always a little messy by August!

Hydrangea

This is a staple here in New England and for good reason! She gives gorgeous blooms in late July and August and creates a bit of structure for your beds. There are countless varieties so you can have different shapes of shrubs and flowers depending on your goals. I prune the spent blooms when I feel like it and leave the complicated pruning schedules to someone with more patience.

HH take: Hydrangeas might be the plant most responsible for my belief that I can do very little and still occasionally look like I know what I’m doing – she’s a self-sufficient lady.

One Downside: Sometimes you might want one to look a certain shape, and they just don’t cooperate. Best to work with what they do.

Salvia

She is a workhorse in the garden. She gives some upright shape and gorgeous color (everything from white to pink to purple) to any bed. She attracts all the pollinators and my hummingbirds love her. She can take a lot of neglect – I had some I moved multiple times this year and they are still kicking around!

HH take: She creates a little structure next to something floppier, so I often pair her with Hosta or Catmint.

One Downside: None. She’s awesome.

Hosta

Classic New England no-fuss plants. I’ll be honest. I hated them initially, and I still have some feelings, but I’ve learned to love them. I found different varieties that I prefer, and I now see they are another zero-effort plant – more time for me to enjoy my garden and less time on garden chores. She is also a great texture plant when nothing else is flowering. Foliage is an underappreciated part of any garden, in my opinion. Hostas feel like one of those plants that just belong around an old New England house. They come back, fill in, and quietly make everything around them look more established.

HH take: She is a workhorse of the garden and can be either ignored or divided and shared. She can take on any amount of neglect and produce lush leaves and beautiful flowers the pollinators go nuts for.

One Downside: They are happiest in the shade, but I’ve found them to be surprisingly tolerant. The deer and rabbits LOVE hosta. I have had good luck, but we have casualties every year.

Lilacs

This classic New England shrub is a favorite of mine and I was gifted all of the ones I have from my local garden club. She grows easily from a little stick transplant and will become a mature shrub with almost no attention. The birds love the smaller branches, and I have one right near my bird feeders for them to use getting to the feeder.

HH take: For the short bloom period you get in Spring, she is worth her weight in gold, for the fragrant flower alone. A couple of weeks every spring, opening the door and smelling them feels like a reward for surviving another New England winter.

One Downside: She spreads by runners you have to keep track of. Not a big deal, but of note if you don’t keep them trimmed, they will fill up a space.

Sedum

My dad was a succulent master and loved creating small plants from cuttings. Sedums are perfect for that. I have her in a sunny rock bed I wanted to cover up, and she has filled in perfectly to cover it! I encouraged her to spread, and she even made a little transplant into my rock wall I’m trying to recreate. She divides easily and can be moved about.

HH Take: She gives some late season interest to the garden with later flowers and requires zero actual work from me.

One Downside: She can look messy by late fall, but I adore her, so we deal with it.

Shasta Daisy

This cheerful lady gives that cottage-garden feel I love, in a reliable and easy way. She fills in big spaces if you need her to, doesn’t require perfect tending and is a recognizable favorite here in New England. My garden isn’t particularly interested in staying in the lines, and neither are the daisies.

HH Take: She creates a lush carpet of gorgeous white flowers in July and August. Great for cut flower gardens.

One Downside: She spreads runners under the ground, so you have to keep up with those. And once the flowers are spent, you have about 4,732 spent blooms to clip. She’s lucky she’s cute or I might rip her out of the flower bed...

A Few More Plants that Have Earned Their Keep

Russian Sage – I planted my first ones this year, but these are seen all over New England gardens and provide a nice flowy plant texture.

Daylilies – My mom’s favorite! I have some from my childhood home here in New England, but I have a love/hate relationship with these ;)

Coneflower – I planted these for the first time this summer, also popular in New England.

Rose of Sharon – I have heard they can be fussy, but truthfully my plants keep coming up and love their home here. I moved a couple of seedlings to New Hampshire this summer, so TBD on how that goes.

What “Low Maintenance” Means to Me

While I love gardening, I don’t want it to become something I have to do with every bit of my time off. When I say low maintenance, here’s what I mean:

• It doesn’t need constant water once established – we have recently been on a water ban, so things need to stand on their own.

• I don’t have to divide it constantly and it doesn’t take a college degree to move it.

• It survives when I get busy and neglect it for a while.

• It doesn’t punish me for being inconsistent – we are sometimes home and sometimes in the mountains, so I need my plants to be ok while I’m away.

Low maintenance doesn’t mean no maintenance! When something is first planted, it will need some TLC. Even my easiest plants need deadheading, cutting back occasionally, dividing and watering during dry stretches.

I used to think a “real” gardener knew all the plants, never killed anything and was constantly trying something new.

These days I don’t mind repeating things I know work in my yard and can handle my hit or miss gardening.

If catmint works? Plant more catmint.

If sedum survives my neglect? Divide her and stick her somewhere else.

If I love hydrangeas? No rule says I can only have one!

I’m slowly learning that the garden doesn’t have to be complicated to be beautiful. Sometimes the best garden plants are the ones that keep showing up.

A Few Garden Things That Make My Life Easier

*Some links below are affiliate links. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases, at no extra cost to you.

Pruning Snips – I like a pair with a straight blade and a comfortable grip to get into tighter spaces.

Garden trug – I use it to carry all sorts of things in and around the garden – weeds, plants, mulch, potting soil and random rocks I need moved across the yard ;)

Knee Pad – Saves my knees when I’m kneeling to weed.

Power pruner – This year I upgraded to this power tool I use for bigger branch trimming and cutting back those huge grasses. Be very careful though!! It will cut more than branches!

What plant has earned its keep in your garden? Tell me your favorite low-maintenance plants - bonus points if it survives being occasionally forgotten ;)

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When I started hiking more seriously in my 40s, I thought being “prepared” meant having all the right gear.

Turns out, it had a lot more to do with knowing what to think about before I left for the trailhead.

Because there’s a particular kind of uncertainty that comes with being a newer hiker:

• Did I bring enough water?

• What if the weather changes?

• Am I forgetting something important?

• Do I really need all the gear I see everyone else carrying?

I’ve forgotten the water. Packed snacks nobody wanted. Worn the wrong shoes. Assumed I’d have cell service when I didn’t.

And over time, I figured out what actually earns a permanent spot in my day pack — and what I check before I leave home.

So I put it all in one simple checklist.

My Day Hike Checklist

This isn’t a list telling you to buy $1,000 worth of hiking gear before you’re allowed in the woods.

It’s the practical list I wish someone had handed me when I was figuring all of this out.

Inside you’ll find:

• the basics I carry on a typical day hike

• the safety items I don’t like to hike without

• the things I check before leaving home

• my go-to trail snacks and fueling reminders

• a few of those easy-to-forget items that can make a big difference once you’re out there

Because feeling prepared changes the hike.

You spend less time wondering whether you forgot something and more time actually enjoying where you are.

And you don’t need to be the fastest, fittest or most experienced person on the trail to belong there.

You just need to start learning what helps you feel comfortable, prepared and confident enough to keep going back.

Because the more prepared you feel, the easier it is to simply get out there and hike.

Subscribe free to Hiking Homebody and I’ll send you the printable checklist.

Subscribe now

Print it.

Save it on your phone.

Check it before your next hike.

We didn’t.

I had a plan to snag another 4000-footer that day. These are newer for me, as I’ve only done one other. My husband and son decided to go with me. They both enjoy hiking, but definitely don’t care about lists (and often I don’t either, but there is something about checking a box that gets me!).

We knew from the start if anyone didn’t want to continue to the second peak, we wouldn’t. But the truth is, I wanted to hit that peak!

Everyone was feeling good on the hike all the way up. I’m the slowest, so there was a fair amount of waiting for me to catch up from the boys. When we hit the summit of Mt Starr King, my son decided he wasn’t interested in continuing across the ridge line the mile over to Mt. Waumbek. We hung out at the summit and met the Canadian Jays (sometimes called Grey Jays). We ate snacks and met a really cool Veteran hiking alone, who shared he had been hiking in the Whites for decades and was just enjoying his time. We checked out the fireplace left on the summit from a structure that was taken down around 1980. We had views of the Presidentials and snagged some summit photos.

Part of me still wanted to finish and get that second peak!

Honestly, the mental chatter during the hike back to the car included a fair amount of “I wish I bagged that peak” and “It was only another mile.” Then I quickly reminded myself (over and over again) that this day was a resounding success. I got to spend the day in one of my favorite places (the mountains) with two of my favorite people!

It can be so easy to make hiking into another way to “prove” something. To yourself. To your friends and family. To strangers on the internet.

Miles. Elevation. Summits. Lists. Strava. Peak Bagging. You name it.

Especially if you’re new to hiking or returning after a break - there’s a feeling that “real hikers” finish the hike.

And I’m as guilty as the next.

Guilty of feeling like walking miles uphill over rocks doesn’t count unless you stand in the exact patch of dirt at the end.

But the truth is, I’ve turned around more than once.

**Cue the long line of hikes I’ve had to bail on ;)

I adjusted my plans for Mt. Waumbek when my hiking partners were done.

I recently had to turn around on a trail when I encountered a bear too. I was about a mile into the trail when I noticed a bear in the woods off to the side of the trail. It was a loop trail, so I made the call to turn around rather than risk running into him again later.

I even had to cancel a summit of Mt. Washington, when the weather turned overnight, and the winds were 90 mph gusts and temps had dropped. I ended up buying a jacket at the hut where we stayed overnight just to get back down the mountain.

Turning around before the summit isn’t a failure. It’s something experienced hikers learn to get more comfortable with.

Quitting isn’t the same as making a decision to turn back. Sometimes it’s about safety. Sometimes it’s fatigue. Sometimes your hiking partner is just done for the day. All of those are valid reasons for making a decision to pivot your plans.

I enjoy a challenge, and truthfully most hikes are challenging for me.

Sometimes continuing IS the challenge. But sometimes turning around is the more solid choice. Knowing which one you’re dealing with is part of becoming a better hiker.

It’s normal for chatter in your head to be negative when you’re challenging yourself.

Am I uncomfortable, or is there something actually wrong?

Am I disappointed because I want to continue on, or because I think I should?

What will change if I don’t reach the summit today?

Usually, the answer to that last one is: Not Much.

One of the gifts of midlife has been releasing the pressure around having something to prove all the time. I hike because I want hiking in my life, not because my hike needs to prove some point to some unknown person.

I want to be able to hike next week. And next year. And ten years from now.

I measure success differently now.

Not - Did I finish this trail?

More - Am I living a life where I can keep getting outside?

Every hike is different, but in a lot of ways they are the same, whether I see the summit or not.

Look at Mt. Waumbek... I didn’t make it there.

But by hiking to Starr King with my family, I did get:

• Time with my people.

• Time in the trees.

• I checked out that cool fireplace.

• Conversation with an experienced hiker.

• New bird calls I hadn’t heard before.

The summit I missed didn’t erase all the fun we had on the way up.

I’ll probably hike Mt. Waumbek another day.

Starr King was still good enough for this day.

The trail doesn’t keep score.

We do.

And maybe we don’t have to.

Have you ever turned around, changed the plan, or skipped the summit—and still been glad you went? I’d love to hear about it.

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It sounds a little foolish to admit now, but I had never really experienced four distinct seasons. I’d never seen truly big mountains. I’d never stood in a landscape that looked completely different from anything I’d known growing up.

I was raised in a beach town in the South, where most of the year can be summed up in one word: hot. I didn’t even own a winter coat.

Maybe that’s why I spent so much of my childhood dreaming about travel. I would flip through my dad’s collection of National Geographic magazines, fascinated by places that felt impossibly far away. I wanted to see mountains, deserts, forests, and places that looked nothing like home.

Then I moved to New England.

Before long, I fell in love with crisp autumn mornings, city life, and the White Mountains of New Hampshire. Those things might seem like an odd combination, but together they became the backdrop for an entirely new chapter of my life.

I finished nursing school in Boston, lived in a small city apartment, and learned to navigate the subway—experiences that felt completely foreign to someone who had never lived outside the Southeast.

My husband had grown up camping in New Hampshire with his dad and couldn’t wait to share it with me. We made our first trip to Dolly Copp Campground, tucked into the White Mountain National Forest. It’s a simple, no-frills campground, but that’s part of its charm. Surrounded by mountains, rivers, and tall pines, it became the place where my own love of New England really began.

Before long, we had our favorite campsites. We’d drive north whenever we had a few days off to camp, hike, and explore another trail.

Eventually our kids came along, and we brought them with us to NH. They grew up chasing waterfalls, scrambling over rocks, roasting marshmallows around campfires, and learning to love the White Mountains the same way we had.

Looking back now, those weekends shaped far more than our vacations. They gave our family a place that still feels like home.

After more than twenty-five years of exploring New England, there are so many things I wish someone had told me before I laced up my boots for the first time. If you’re new to hiking here—or planning your first trip—this is the guide I wish I’d been handed all those years ago.

New England Trails Are Harder Than They Look

One of the most important things to know about hiking in New England is that mileage and elevation gain can feel very different here than they do in other places. A 3-mile hike here might be straight up and full of rock scrambles. This makes it feel more difficult, so a 5-mile hike here might feel like a 10-mile hike somewhere else. Distance isn’t the best way to judge a New England hike.

Don’t judge yourself by mileage alone and take the time to understand how much elevation gain per mile is in your zone of fitness. For me, under 500 ft gain/mile usually feels fairly easy. Around 750 ft gain/mile is moderate and anything around 1000 ft gain/mile is tough.

Trails are usually covered in roots and rocks, so you’re just as likely to be scrambling over a big boulder as trying not to trip on a root-covered trail.

Your numbers might be completely different from mine—and that’s the point. Once you figure out what elevation per mile feels comfortable for you, choosing trails gets much easier.

Weather Changes FAST

In any mountains, the weather can act differently than other places. Specifically in the Whites, weather tends to get stuck in Franconia Notch. It can be completely sunny on one side and raining on the other side of the notch. It’s actually pretty cool to see when you drive through!

I use a couple of apps to check weather before hiking in New England. My basic weather app of choice is Weather Underground, but you can use whatever you like. This is the one I check for driving to a trailhead. Second, I always check both Mountain-Forecast (they have an app) and the Mount Washington Observatory Website. These two resources give weather at elevation, which can be very different than at a trailhead. Especially when you get above treeline and there is very little to protect you from wind, sun and rain. Thunderstorms are very dangerous as well, so it’s important to know when to bail.

I also pack a rain layer or cold weather layer depending on the season. Then if things change quickly I can adapt. I had to bail on a summit once when the weather turned and we had cold temps and 90 mph gusts above treeline!

Start Smaller Than You Think

It’s best to build to bigger hikes (if you ever want to do them at all – its ok to stay small!) rather than jumping right into a NH 4,000-footer. Try local parks, state parks and conservatories near you and get the mileage built up before you jump into a bunch of elevation gain.

There are also PLENTY of smaller White Mountain trails perfect for families or someone looking to get out without trying to see the biggest peak they can. I have some of these noted in my Trail Notes series right here on Substack.

The White Mountains Aren’t to Be Taken Lightly

The White Mountains (like any mountains) are gorgeous, but don’t underestimate the danger. Rescues happen every year. Sometimes accidents simply happen, but good planning and knowing when to turn around can reduce your chances of needing one.

Respect the mountain and be prepared to turn around if you don’t feel right. Just this week I turned around and missed a summit because I encountered a bear and gave him his space. No reason to put myself at risk! I’ll just pivot and check out another trail another day.

Don’t forget – we are in Mother Nature’s arena! Animals and weather are bigger than you and should be respected as such. We don’t have to be fearful, we just need to be aware.

Download Your Maps Before You Go

I made the mistake of not doing this because I didn’t have paid access to an app in the past. With paid access, you can download offline maps on AllTrails or Gaia GPS and it just might save you time and frustration.

Luckily, I never got into too bad of a spot because I’m most often on well-marked trails, but I always feel better when I can see EXACTLY where I am at any time.

Cell service can be spotty in the mountains—and on plenty of local trails too. So, I also keep a paper map in my bag as a backup. These are low cost and easy to have available.

Don’t Chase the “Instagram Hikes”

While I love to scroll and get inspired on Instagram and YouTube, often these influencers are in places I’ll never go – and the truth is, I don’t need to. My local trail is beautiful in its own way, and I get up to the mountains when I can.

Find a trail you actually enjoy being on. Find one that you don’t have to travel hours to find a trailhead. Leave yourself wanting another hike. Consistency beats one epic hike any day.

Just get out on trail and learn as you go.

The Seasons Matter

Here’s the breakdown:

• Spring = mud, swollen streams/waterfalls, bugs starting

• Summer = heat/humidity, crowds, thunderstorms, longer daylight

• Fall = foliage, cooler temps, shorter daylight, crowded popular trails

• Winter = entirely different sport, snow/ice, traction, much more gear/preparation

I hike in all seasons and there is a different magic in each one. Spring on the calendar is WAY different than spring at elevation. That’s where trail research before you go pays off big time. Fall is by far my favorite, but don’t underestimate a muddy hike to a full spring waterfall!

AllTrails has reviews and it’s my favorite place to see what a trail is like in close to real time. People will comment on mud, water sources, bugs and more, so you have all kinds of information to make each season doable.

Hiking Culture Matters

There are a few hiking rules if you will; that should be followed to be courteous to your fellow trail goers. I recently had this exact conversation on trail with my teen who wanted to know why he wasn’t allowed to play music on trail and why he shouldn’t topple that rotten tree ;)

• Yield uphill – generally harder, give those of us that are out of breath on the uphill a chance to keep going

• Leave No Trace – pack out what you bring in and if you see trash, pack that out too.

• No music on trail – people are out to enjoy the sounds of nature and it can be rude to make outside noise.

• Say Hello – Especially in today’s world... as women, it can be scary to be in the woods alone. When you pass someone on the trail, a polite hello is customary – no need to ask detailed questions.

• Help each other – I’ve offered Band-Aids and snacks to random people on the trail many times and this week read a case where someone was waiting for a rescue and a stranger sat with them, so they weren’t alone. We are all human and that kindness goes a long way.

You Don’t Need All the Gear

You don’t need to spend hundreds of dollars before you start hiking. For a local beginner trail, comfortable shoes, water, snacks and a small backpack may be plenty. As you start hiking longer distances or heading farther into the mountains, you can add gear based on what you actually need.

I’ve accumulated better gear over years (not overnight) as I had the money to do it, and as I understood what I would actually use on the trail.

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A Few Beginner Friendly Places to Start

There are beginner hikes in every area of New England, but as far as New Hampshire here are a few areas with approachable and scenic hikes.

• Franconia Notch – Artist’s Bluff is a short popular hike with a scenic view of Echo Lake and Cannon Ski area.

• Crawford Notch – Mt Willard is a short hike up to a beautiful view of the notch.

• Pinkham Notch – A little north of here sits Pine Mountain with HUGE views of Pinkham Notch.

• Mount Monadnock – a bit harder of a hike, but more southern and accessible from the Massachusetts areas.

• Southern NH State Parks – Don’t forget to peek at the state parks and find smaller trails that might include lakes and ponds.

New England hiking isn’t about collecting summits (although there are lists you can complete that can be fun). For me, it’s more about slowing down enough to notice how different seasons feel, how every trail has its own personality and how, before you realize it, nature starts to feel like home.

Most mornings, you’ll find me wandering around the garden with a cup of coffee, pulling a weed here, deadheading a flower there, and noticing things I somehow missed yesterday.

This week alone I almost threw away a petunia that was already growing again.

I discovered lilies that came up where I forgot they were planted.

And I even planted things in spring that are covered by the hosta leaves now.

On cool summer mornings, I like to sit on my back deck and just observe.

Just me, a hot mug of coffee, birds arguing over the feeder and whatever catches my eye first.

I like to see what’s growing, what needs attention and what the wildlife are noticing (and sometimes eating!).

Sometimes I walk around, sometimes I just sit.

I might pull a few weeds I’ve been noticing, but mostly I’m just observing.

Just two weeks ago, the planters on my deck looked great. But then, the petunias began to look bedraggled and messy... half dead. I began the troubleshooting pattern I use when things go wrong in the garden.

It’s always a bit of trial and error in any garden. There isn’t one clear answer for every problem.

I thought maybe I overwatered. So I watered less for a few days. No change.

I thought maybe it needed more sun. So I turned the pot so the petunias would get more. No change.

At this point, I’d already decided they weren’t coming back. I started clipping away the brown leaves. Not because I thought I could save them, but because I wanted to clean up the pot a little before pulling them out altogether.

Then I saw it.

Right in the center.

Tiny green leaves.

The plant had been trying again the whole time, and I almost missed it.

Same thing happened in our mountain home in NH. I planted a bunch of new perennials in spring to fill in some gaps. When I returned a month later, things that were already there before we owned the house began to emerge and get large.

Several little salvia plants disappeared beneath the larger hosta.

The lilies I never knew existed, suddenly announced themselves in a blast of color.

My tiny edelweiss were hanging on beneath a really aggressive patch of day lilies above them.

I found my annuals coming up nicely, but not nearly as much as I had hoped by this point of the summer.

So many new things to see in this one garden!

One morning as I was having my coffee and looking at the mountains, our security cameras were triggered on one corner of the house. Before I could even open it to see what was going on (we often have wildlife walking through the yard that trigger them), the next camera pinged.

I popped up off the couch and looked behind me to find a young bear in my garden beds!

I ran out back to see what he was doing, where I could watch him from a safe spot on the deck. He was wandering over to the shed while I watched. I heard wood splinter before I could even figure out what he was doing!

We shouted out to him and he ran up the crab apple trees to have a snack and left the shed alone.

After he was gone for a while, we went over to check the shed and were very surprised to find he had torn off the side of one corner and revealed a yellow jacket nest in the floor and wall of the shed!

All of these little moments kept leading me to the same realization.

Somewhere between pulling weeds, moving plants around and watching for local wildlife, I realized I wasn’t really learning about gardening.

I was learning to pay attention.

I was learning that things I thought I knew may look different the second time around.

That things aren’t always different because they’ve changed.

Sometimes they’re different because I have.

The same trail looks different in every season or after the rain.

The same book reveals new lessons with each read.

Even my own mind in midlife is offering fresh perspectives on the same old problems.

And people I once thought would always be a part of my life may be moving on.

I wonder if this is the gift of noticing.

Seeing something with fresh eyes gives me new observations, new perspectives, and a different way of meeting the challenges I thought I’d already figured out.

I’ve also noticed that paying attention has changed what my mind looks for.

On the days my thoughts start spiraling toward everything that’s wrong, the habit of noticing interrupts them.

The wind in the trees.

The new flower that just opened up in the garden.

Watching the hummingbirds chase each other around the feeder.

All of it pulls me back into the present, grateful for the quiet life I’m slowly creating.

Maybe the flowers were always there.

Maybe these tiny changes were always happening around me.

Maybe I simply slowed myself down enough to notice.

Maybe I simply arrived at the season of life where I finally know how to see it.

I still only know so much about gardening.

Tomorrow morning I’ll probably wander around with a coffee.

Or maybe in the evening with a glass of wine.

I might pull a few weeds.

Deadhead a few flowers.

And if I’m lucky, I’ll notice something that I missed just yesterday.

I’m beginning to think that‘s where most of life has been hiding all along.

What's something you've noticed lately that you might have missed a year ago? I'd love to hear about it in the comments.

Rainy days have slowly become some of my favorite days — not because nothing happens, but because they invite a different pace. An invitation to just chill and spend the day reconnecting with myself and the hobbies that often get pushed aside. Maybe it’s a book. Maybe it’s my watercolors. Either way, the day almost always leaves me feeling calmer than it began.

There are certain books that invite this same feeling. The cozy warmth of settling under a blanket, while the cat decides your lap is the best place in the house. These aren’t necessarily the best books or the ones topping everyone’s recommendation lists. They’re simply the ones that remind me not to rush. To linger over one more cup of coffee. To read one more chapter.

The stories stay with me long after I’ve closed the cover, lingering like fog over a lake after a summer storm.

Somewhere along the way, my reading life changed too.

In my twenties, I wanted books I couldn’t put down.

In my forties, I want books I don’t want to leave.

I still enjoy a fast-paced thriller or a page-turning romance from time to time, but the books I remember most aren’t always the ones with the biggest twists. They’re the ones that changed the way I noticed ordinary life.

So instead of organizing this list by genre, I grouped these books by the feeling they leave behind.

☕ Books for slow mornings

Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt – I closed this book wishing the characters were real people I could invite over for coffee, including the octopus! While there was a movie adaptation, I found the book to be so much more descriptive and engaging.

Evie Drake Starts Over by Linda Holmes – I found myself rooting so hard for Evie and her new life! I love a good romance and this one did not disappoint.

My Friends by Fredrik Backman – This book was one of the more impactful reads of 2025 for me. I have recommended it to countless people and I hope you find the story of childhood, friendship and grief as powerful as I did.

🌲 Books that make me want to lace up my boots

Heartwood by Amity Gage – I love the two main characters of this book so much! I’m a bit of an armchair detective myself and I just connected right away with how badly they wanted to find the missing hiker. Set on the Appalachian Trail in Maine, it felt close to home.

Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer – A true story of a young man who leaves everything behind to live in the wild of Alaska, this book reminded me how fragile life is and adventure is what you make of it. His journals are quoted throughout and you really get a sense of where his mind was during this time.

🌧️ Books that pair well with a rainy afternoon

The Pumpkin Spice Cafe by Laurie Gilmore – This one combines all my favorite things – small town romance, a good trope and a coffee shop. It’s like a Hallmark movie in book form!

The Lost Bookshop by Evie Woods – With Irish scenery and two alternating time periods, this one kept me engaged! I couldn’t wait to see how the main character escaped her entrapment from her brother. I finished it up on a rainy summer afternoon myself!

🍂 Books that make ordinary life feel beautiful

14,000 Things to be Happy About by Barbara Ann Kipfer – I bought this book in high school, with money I probably should have been saving. Instead, I highlighted every tiny thing that made me happy and discovered that freshly cut grass has been making my list for decades.

The Comfort Book by Matt Haig – I read almost the entire book on a rainy afternoon while the house sat quiet around me. It isn’t really a story as much as a collection of reminders. The kind you don’t realize you need until you slow down enough to hear them. I found myself reading one page... then another... then another, lingering over thoughts instead of racing toward the end.

Wintering by Katherine May – One of my favorite reads this year has been Wintering by Katherine May. It’s not really a book about winter at all—it’s about the seasons in life when things feel quieter, slower, or harder than expected. Rather than encouraging us to push through, May reminds us that rest, reflection, and stillness have their own purpose. It’s the kind of book that makes you want to wrap up in a blanket, pour another cup of tea, and stop feeling guilty for moving at a gentler pace for a while.

I’ve started seeing rainy weekends differently.

They’re an invitation.

To rest.

To read.

To just be.

We spend so much of our lives trying to squeeze every drop from our weekends.

Lately, I’ve realized some of the best weekends are the ones where almost nothing happens.

A good book.
A rainy window.
Another cup of coffee and a cat.

Hiking taught me to slow down enough to notice the trail.

Reading has taught me to slow down enough to notice my own life.

Lately, I’ve realized that’s more than enough.

Lose the weight.

Travel the world.

Have more money.

Marry the perfect man.

Buy the house.

Have lots of kids.

I was desperate to become an adult and have all the things I ever wanted.

I believed happiness lived in the perfect number on the scale, my dream home, a healthy bank account, and a passport full of stamps.

Some of these things did, in fact, happen for me in adulthood.

But the most surprising thing? They didn’t immediately make me happy.

I was confused... it took me years, but I learned something:

The goal post was always moving.

The truth is, as you age your perspective shifts and while none of these were bad goals, they aren’t where happiness lives.

When I landed my first nursing job, I felt like I was absolutely swimming in money. I had never made so much in my life, and we had few bills to cover at that time, because we were so young. My husband was already a firefighter at the time, and we just felt so grown!

I sent gifts regularly to family, bought new clothes, bought a cool new car and treated myself to things I wanted (lots of books, lots of the time).

It felt amazing. I even began to travel internationally with my friends from work.

Weekend trips to Mexico and the Caribbean. Beach resorts were the norm.

It wasn’t until years later, I realized that isn’t even the kind of trip I enjoy!

One day it hit me that I wasn’t actually chasing my dream. I was chasing what I thought adulthood was supposed to look like.

Buy the clothes and bags everyone recognizes. Drive the car people desire. Have it all and more.

It wasn’t that I’d been unhappy. Those trips were super fun with my friends. Driving a fun sporty car with an amazing stereo system was exciting (music drives almost everything for me).

They just weren’t me exactly.

Somewhere along the way I got confused between the version of success that is sold to us in the media and the one I saw for myself as a kid.

Somewhere along the way, between becoming a mom, working long hours, and untangling parts of my past, I lost sight of the person I used to be.

But here’s the thing…

Teenage Kaci hung up a world map on her wall and marked all the places she would travel someday. She dreamed of becoming a National Geographic photographer and seeing the places and animals few people are privileged to see in real life. She poured over her dad’s closet full of back issues of the magazine with a fine-tooth comb. I would sit in the floor of that closet for hours and flip the pages with a steady hand so I didn’t bend the pages.

I don’t remember wanting luxury, I remember wandering antique stores in Black Mountain looking for hidden treasures.

I don’t remember wanting to lie on a beach with a drink in my hand, I remember dreaming about going on an African safari and seeing elephants and lions. In fact, when my oldest was a girl scout and we were lucky enough to do a sleepover at the zoo, we got to see the elephants in person and I cried. Just seeing them in an imperfect setting was the beginning of opening my eyes to what I was missing.

Looking back, I think I was crying because I recognized a part of myself I had forgotten.

It probably took me a decade of travel to destinations that other people wanted me to see, to realize that what I like is a little different. While those beach days with a cocktail were lots of fun in my 20s, I now prefer a much quieter vacation.

Over the last few years of rediscovering myself and what I in fact enjoy, I have learned to backpack, travelled to no fewer than 6 national parks and bought my dream home in the mountains where I can escape to anytime I want.

I rediscovered the fact that I am a homebody at heart – I love a good trip (the bison in Yellowstone made my 2024) but I always love coming back home. Home to my routines and my cozy spaces.

Maybe happiness isn’t about building a life that impresses other people.

Maybe it’s about building one that feels like your own.

For some it might be travel, for some it might be a big family. For me, it ended up being about paying attention to the life I had already created. One with a family I adore, a job that feels right and a home base I love to return to after I find adventures.

Looking back, it makes perfect sense that I eventually found my way to hiking. It wasn’t about conquering mountains. It was about finally slowing down long enough to hear my own voice again.

Teenage me probably wouldn’t be surprised that I ended up in the mountains instead of on another beach.

She already knew.

It just took me a few decades to remember.

Now, when I unlock the door to our mountain house after a long week, I don’t feel like I’ve escaped my life.

I feel like I’ve come home to it.

I paid attention to mileage, whether I was keeping up with my husband (my only hiking partner at the time) and getting a share-worthy photo at the top.

Now, almost 25 years later, I still love a good view – but I notice entirely different things on trail... and somehow it’s made hiking a richer experience.

Just today, while out for my first walk since surgery (I had to rest for a full week), I came upon quite an unexpected scene.

I heard a rustling.

Then I heard it again.

As I rounded the next bend, there were at least 5 squirrels running in all directions.

Up trees.

Across the trail.

Chasing each other over the rock walls.

They were chittering and sprinting about, and I couldn’t help but laugh (silently of course, since I’m on voice rest) at the scene they created.

25-year-old me would have snapped a photo and kept going. I had a destination in mind and a pace to keep.

It’s not natural for me to slow down. It’s a skill I’m still building.

Today I stopped, tapped my husband on the shoulder to look and stood there and just watched for a minute. The destination wasn’t as important as seeing if I could figure out the squirrel gossip!

It’s small moments like these that make a trail for me these days.

I pay more attention to what stage the forest is in.

Watching the first ferns unfurl from tiny fiddleheads to a huge carpet covering the forest floor over the course of a few weeks.

Fresh green spring growth on the evergreens.

The smell of the forest after a good rain.

The way the leaves push into the trail, crowding you like a friend.

And then, just like that, fall arrives and it all changes again.

It’s one of my favorite parts about New England – we get four full seasons, and each one has its gems.

I don’t just visit the trail anymore – I’m watching it change over years as I continue to hike in the same spots over and over.

And while I love a good animal sighting (safely of course!), sometimes it’s just as cool to see the signs that an animal was there.

Tracks in the Spring mud.

Freshly nibbled plants in Summer.

Recently I stopped to study a tree I couldn’t quite figure out. When I got closer, it looked like a woodpecker had been practicing on it—big holes scattered everywhere. Twenty-five-year-old me probably would have walked right past it.

A turkey feather mid trail.

The sound of something rustling in the Fall leaves. Around here, chipmunks can sound like bears.

The woods feel alive when I’m looking for evidence of animals instead of waiting for a bear to walk across the trail. And I honestly don’t want to encounter one that close up!

That energy is something I have yet to replicate in any other place in my life.

My family laughs because I somehow spot wildlife everywhere we go. I get ridiculously excited every single time, but maybe I’ve just learned to pay attention.

At 25 I filled every silent moment, feeling like I had to take up space verbally to matter.

Feeling the need to prove myself in some way in every interaction.

I’m not exactly sure when that changed. Maybe being a nurse has something to do with it. Maybe getting older. Maybe being more comfortable with who I am at my core. But somewhere along the way I stopped feeling responsible for filling every silence.

Now I intentionally stop.

No headphones.

No conversation.

Just listening to the wind rustle the leaves, the birds calling out to each other and my own heavy breathing (IYKYK).

These quiet spaces have become part of the reason why I hike.

I seek them out. I don’t always want a completely silent hike, but I know when I need it, hiking in the woods is one of those places I can always count on quiet.

Two years ago, success meant a harder hike.

Longer.

More elevation.

Rock scrabbles (I still hate these).

But today? I see wins differently.

Wins might look like:

• I felt stronger today than yesterday.

• My back didn’t hurt today.

• I remembered to bring enough water.

• I showed up to a trail prepared.

• I simply made time to go in a busy season of life.

Progress looks different in midlife.

It FEELS different.

I am proud of the changes I’ve made and am not afraid to say it!

One of my favorite things is watching people experience the same trail in completely different ways.

I always find myself quietly rooting for people on the trail. Even though I’m in my own world most of the time, I am dialed in to what is going on around me. I love to say hi and keep on trucking, but I’m definitely noticing all the people as I go.

On any given hike you might see a:

Solo female hiker living her best life

Mom with kids who are screeching at the frog they just found in the water

Trail runner bopping along to their own music

Dog owner chasing after a dog smiling all the way up

There isn’t one “right” way to enjoy the trail! Plus there are a million types of people you might meet.

One thing that has surprised me is how ordinary hikes have become some of my favorite memories.

Not epic adventures.

My trip to Grand Teton National Park was unforgettable (and still one of my favorite adventures), but so were some of the hikes out my back door.

I did get chased by a bison though... and that hasn’t happened on my local trail... yet!

Just a Tuesday afternoon.

A local trail.

An hour after dinner.

Those small moments have become the ones I miss when life gets busy. And they add up to lots of everyday adventures anyway.

This might be one of the quiet gifts of getting older. We stop rushing past the details and remember that life is actually what is happening now.

The summit is still spectacular.

But somewhere along the way, the walk itself became the reason I came.

Thanks for spending a little time with me today.

See you next Sunday.

— Kaci

One parent would want to host friends for a barbecue, one would hate it. I wasn’t totally dialed into it, but I noticed the arguments as a kid.

When I went off to college I began to realize – I really needed more alone time than some around me, and in a college dorm, that isn’t always possible. This was my first inkling I was an introvert too... a homebody if you will. But I didn’t see it quite yet.

I am social and chatty, love a good dinner out and vacations are fun for me. But there is nothing like a quiet home to reset me – and it only took me 20 years to figure it out!

In your 20s, homebodies seem boring. It feels like if you aren’t doing the THING, you’re missing out. Real FOMO stuff. Everything from parties to productivity was a thing to create happiness. Even rest was earned by hard work and lots of it.

In my 30s I was just tired. Two small kids under 2 did me in for a while and I lost some friendships over it. I was barely surviving and not at all thriving.

For years, I was so tired I wasn’t making choices, I was just surviving day to day.

Work.

Kids.

Activities.

Responsibilities.

Repeat.

Now in my 40s, I am finally sleeping, which has allowed me to have a minute to breathe and take stock of what I actually enjoy, not what I THINK I should be enjoying.

And you know what? It turns out, I like peaceful, quiet moments at home most of all. I’m able to dial back into my younger self, way before college, and see she in fact was always into the things that bring me joy now.

Things like quiet days in my garden, reading a good book with a cat, watching the birds outside my window, coffee on the deck, afternoon naps, rain on the window and coming home after a hike to a hot shower and having nowhere else to be.

Somewhere along the way, I finally stopped confusing busy with happy.

Midlife Changes

I don’t have the same energy level I did at 28 (nor should I) and my nervous system craves the quiet more than the excitement of a night out. Maybe you can relate to that too.

I’ve spent the last 20 years building a nursing career I can be proud of and a real estate business with my husband, all while raising two kids to head off into this world and be good citizens of the world. These have been the most exhausting and rewarding things I’ve ever done, and the work of my life.

And in this season? Home hits different. It’s the place I want to be more than anywhere else in the world.

It relaxes me in a way nothing else can.

The older I get, the more selective I am about who and what get my time. I’m more on a Golden Girls schedule these days – dinner at 5 and home by 8? Yes. Meet up at 9? Nope. I’ll be home on my couch with my husband by then!

Hiking Helped Me See

Over the last few years, I’ve been getting more serious about hiking, and it has taught me many things. Most importantly, it has taught me how to slow down. To find joy in things that might otherwise seem small or mundane.

When the kids were little, we hiked a lot. It took us a while, but we came to see we had to adjust our goals to meet those of the kids. Kids love the micro, not the macro.

They will spend an entire hike looking for bugs, ferns, mushrooms and water – all while completely ignoring the view at the top! I can’t tell you the amount of video I have of my son, excitedly finding some small thing on the trail that just lit him up!

Somewhere among the last few years, I’ve begun the process of tuning back into the little Kaci too. She spent whole days outside and just playing. Watching bugs. Digging in the dirt. Catching frogs. Looking at nature with awe and watching things grow.

She wasn’t worried about productivity or optimizing anything.

She was just paying attention.

Hiking didn’t make me love adventure more. It taught me to notice things.

So now, I’m spending less time chasing big adventures (although I still have some on the books!) and more time noticing the ordinary moments on trail.

The trail taught me to pay attention and now I want that in my home too.

Ordinary Luxuries

Things that used to feel like I had to earn them, now are a given in my life. I enjoy them without restriction and want to encourage you to enjoy them as well.

Fresh sheets after a long week.

A book and a thunderstorm.

Cut flowers from my garden.

An evening on the deck watching the sun reflect off the mountains.

Being able to say no without guilt.

Watching a storm roll in from the comfort of home.

These are just examples, but you get the point. Noticing what is happening around us is the life, not some big thing out there. Life is lived in these small moments and I want to spend my days noticing.

I still love to travel.

I still love exploring new trails.

But one of the most surprising parts of getting older is realizing my favorite place, is the one I come home to at the end of an adventure.

Becoming the Hiking Homebody wasn’t settling.

It was finally learning to be content.

Thanks for spending a little time with me today.

See you next Sunday.

— Kaci

The ones I saw on social media.

The hikes in national parks.

The hikes with dramatic views.

The hikes people would stop and comment on when I posted a photo.

But somewhere along the way, I realized the best trail isn’t the most impressive one. It’s the one you’ll actually walk.

I’m as guilty as the next person to make something more complex than it needs to be...

I can’t hike today because I need more time.

I can’t hike today because I need better gear.

I can’t hike today because I would have to drive far away to somewhere exciting.

I can’t hike today because I don’t have anyone to go with me.

I can’t hike today because it’s raining.

Meanwhile, there is a trail less than 10 minutes from home waiting for you right now. Might be a local trail or conservation land in your town, might be your neighborhood sidewalks.

Either way, you’re outside and that’s what matters.

Don’t spend so much time looking for the perfect hike that you miss the perfectly good one waiting down the road for you.

But here’s the truth. One of my favorite trips happened in 3 days of mostly rain. And while I’ll say I don’t prefer the rain, it turned into something magical when I proved to myself I could do it.

Would I choose that forecast again, probably not. Three days backpacking in the rainy White Mountains is hard for anyone! And I did it!

But somewhere between the wet clothes, muddy trails and constant debate in my head about whether I should quit, something shifted.

I proved to myself I could do hard things.

There was a moment when I had to decide to do less than I originally planned. I didn’t reach every goal I set for myself, and for someone who likes to finish what she starts, that wasn’t easy. But looking back, it taught me something important.

It was okay.

It’s okay to turn around.

It’s okay to change the plan.

Sometimes the lesson isn’t in getting to the top. Sometimes the lesson is learning that you can keep going even when conditions aren’t perfect.

I now know that when I get in my head about walking out back on the trails and roads behind my house, it’s my brain getting in my way. I just have to tell myself, to get the heck out there and go!

These days most of my hikes are in my own town and in the woods behind my house. They count just as much as bigger ones in New Hampshire, or even the trip I’m planning for Washington in the fall. While those will definitely be EPIC, they aren’t everything.

They are just a PART of my hiking journey and local trails mean just as much to me.

Honestly, the hikes I remember most aren’t always the ones with the biggest views, they’re often the ones that got me outside on a day when I almost stayed home.

Consistency Beats Adventure

Trails don’t have to be epic to help your health and wellness either and this has been top of mind for me this year going through some of my own health struggles.

Walking and hiking can lower stress.

Improve fitness.

Clear your mind.

Build confidence.

None of those benefits require a bucket-list trail. And one hike doesn’t make you an amazing hiker.

You become a hiker by hiking. Putting one foot in front of the other and getting out there. One ordinary trail at a time.

Here’s your Sign

I want to formally give you permission to do the thing.

Walk the local trail.

Take the short hike.

Repeat the same route you’ve walked a hundred times.

Go even if weather isn’t perfect.

Go even if you only have an hour.

Go even if nobody comes with you.

The trail doesn’t have to be impressive to matter.

In fact, it might be exactly what you need.

These days, I still dream about big mountain adventures. I still love planning trips and exploring new places. But I’ve stopped waiting for the perfect hike.

Because the best trail isn’t the one on a bucket list.

It’s the one you’ll actually walk.

Thanks for spending a little time with me today.

See you next Sunday.

— Kaci

I signed up for a 2 night overnight backpacking trip on a whim.

I had never been backpacking, but had always thought I might want to try it. When the opportunity dropped into my lap to go with someone experienced that could show me the ropes, I jumped in feet first and barely looked back.

We met in the parking lot in the White Mountains in the rain and hiked most of that first day wet and chilly.

I thought “I can do this!” and as the mountain got steeper, my brain began it’s assault.

“You’re not a real hiker,” it said. “You have only done smaller hikes and they were HARD.”

I kept going, keeping pace with my fellow hikers and telling my brain to mind it’s business. It was a struggle.

I knew it the moment I saw the steel ladder I had to go up with a full pack and no handrails.

The White Mountains might just kill me yet.

I had been hiking in the Whites for 20 years at this point, but when the kids were little, we kept hikes shorter and less scary (I have one adventure seeker and one cautious lady). Kids are more about the micro than the macro, we eventually learned.

I FELT like a hiker, but something about this day in the rain, with a heavy pack on my back, did me in. I was in my head and wanted to turn back.

And honestly, if I wasn’t with other people, I might have.

I didn’t though, I persevered and when I arrived at camp that night in the dark rain, I couldn’t believe I had done it.

I think about that trip often now.

Not because it turned me into a backpacker. I’ve only done a handful of overnight trips since then. Life simply doesn’t allow for many weekends away at this stage.

These days, my hiking life looks different.

Most of my hikes are close to home. They’re squeezed between work shifts, family obligations, grocery runs, and all the ordinary responsibilities that come with midlife. Sometimes I have an entire day to spend in the White Mountains. More often, I have an hour or two on a local trail.

A younger version of me might have seen those shorter hikes as a compromise.

Now I see them for what they are: hiking.

Somewhere along the way, many of us started believing that hiking only counts if it’s difficult enough. Long enough. Steep enough. Impressive enough to post online.

But standing on that mountain years ago, arguing with the voice in my head that insisted I wasn’t a “real hiker,” taught me something important.

The goalposts never stop moving.

If you’ve hiked three miles, someone has hiked ten.

If you’ve hiked ten, someone has hiked twenty.

If you’ve climbed your local hill, someone has climbed a mountain.

If you’ve climbed a mountain, someone has crossed an entire range.

There will always be someone doing more.

The question isn’t whether you’re hiking enough to earn the title.

The question is much simpler:

Do you love being on the trail?

Because if you do, you’re already a hiker.

The internet would have us believe that an ordinary Tuesday trail walk doesn’t count, but in my world? It counts big time.

Those ordinary walks are what make up most of my hiking life. They are where I clear my head after a long shift, reconnect with my husband, notice the changing seasons, and remember that there is more to life than whatever is sitting on my to-do list.

The Benefits of Hiking

I have found more peace and growth in my time on the trail, since I decided I wasn’t going to fit it into a box, than ever before. I’ve hiked with friends, I’ve hiked with neighbors, I’ve hiked with family and I’ve hiked solo.

Some of my favorite things about hiking aren’t the summit photo (although I love a good summit photo too!).

Things like:

• Fresh air

• Movement

• Stress relief

• Quiet

• Time to think

• Noticing nature

These are the parts of hiking I carry home with me.

The summit photos are wonderful, but it’s the quieter moments I remember most. The sunlight filtering through the trees. The sound of birds overhead. The feeling that whatever was weighing on me an hour ago somehow feels a little lighter now.

And do these benefits appear magically at mile 10? Nope. They are there 50 feet into the trail and all the way to the end.

Some of My Favorite Hikes Weren’t Big Hikes

Now that summer is here, I’m sometimes home from work early enough to squeeze in a walk. Right outside my back door.

My husband and I will hit the trail for a short trip that ends with a gaggle of ducks in the local creek. They quack and flutter about when we come and I just can’t get enough!

This is what nature is about to me. Enjoying her in her natural state. Seeing the bounty she has to offer from ferns in the woods, sunlight peeking through the trees to the animals we are privileged to see on our way.

I said earlier, kids love the micro, not the macro... but maybe adults need more of that too. More peeks into the small things nature is sharing with us.

Midlife Attitude Shift

In midlife, I’m finding more enjoyment in the small parts of life and hiking is no exception. While perimenopause is hitting me hard these days, I can always count on the trail for a reset. Between busy schedules, family responsibilities, aging joints and longer recovery times when I do get out, I don’t always have four hours to drive and find a bigger trail.

I don’t always have entire weekends to spend on epic adventures (although I squeeze them in where I can)

But I might have 45 minutes to head outside. And 45 minutes on a local trail is still time spent in the outdoors.

These days I consider a hiker simply someone who enjoys walking trails and spending time outside.

Let’s not complicate it.

It’s not the mileage.

It’s not the pace.

It’s not the elevation gain.

It’s just showing up. For yourself.

Here’s the thing... If all you have this week is a quick walk around the block, that’s enough.

If you turn around before the summit, that’s enough.

If your trail is 10 minutes from home and the hike only lasts a half hour, that counts too.

You don’t have to hike 10 miles to be a hiker.

You just have to go.

The local trail still counts. And so do you.

Thanks for spending a little time with me today.

See you next Sunday.

— Kaci

As a nurse married to a firefighter, we work weekends. Lots of weekends. Weekends have never been predictable in our house.

For years, our family calendar looked more like a shift schedule, than the traditional weekend we saw everyone else enjoying. Someone was usually working. Someone was heading to a game. Someone needed a ride somewhere. Even now, one teenager has a job and the other is on a schedule of his own.

It can feel overwhelming for two homebodies like me and my husband.

When we do find ourselves all home at the same time, there is usually a long to-do list waiting for us. Grocery shopping. Yard work. Laundry. Hiking trails I’ve been wanting to explore. Projects around the house.

I love all of those things individually, but together they can leave me feeling like I’m spending my weekends managing life instead of living it.

But then a ray of sunshine (I’ll call it rain) arrives; plans are cancelled and I’m left with an open day for a different sort of weekend.

Suddenly expectations are different. Both from myself and those around me.

The errands can wait. Sports get cancelled. The trails will be there next week.

The pressure I feel to “make the most of the weekend” fades and a sense of calm settles in. And in this season, that feels surprisingly valuable.

Maybe that’s because so much of modern life tells us every free hour should be optimized.

See the sights.
Take the trip.
Finish the project.
Get ahead for next week.

Rain has a funny way of making all of that feel optional - rainy weekends feel like nature’s way of cancelling plans I didn’t really want to keep anyway.

Permission to Slow Down

The last rainy Sunday in our house turned out perfectly.

Kids slept in and we lingered in the kitchen chatting at the island longer than usual (you know the teens don’t chat for long!) over coffee.

My daughter and I were learning to play Mahjong recently, so we spread the tiles out in the afternoon and practiced our strategy together. There were plenty of mistakes, lots of laughing and more than once we had to stop and look up a rule.

Normally I would be glancing at the clock, thinking about the next thing on my to-do list.

Instead, there was nowhere else to be.

For a little while, all that mattered was the game in front of us and the conversation happening around it.

After we played several rounds, we caught up on a couple of episodes of The Office with my son, and then I had an extra cup of coffee in the afternoon with my Kindle, the cat and a blanket.

Somewhere along the way, in the busyness life, I forgot how much down time I needed to reset and that Sunday was PERFECT.

Did I get everything done on my list? Not even close. But I DID reset in a way I hadn’t anticipated.

What surprised me most was how quickly the day slowed down. Once the expectation for productivity disappeared, resting became easier and my endless to-do list suddenly felt much less important.

And the older I get, the more I appreciate weekends that ask so little of me.

The Things We Miss When We Are Busy

I’ve been talking a lot lately about slower, cozier living. It’s something I’m working toward in this midlife stage. Giving myself permission to slow my life down, so I don’t miss the important things.

Things like:

Reading for hours

Listening to the thunder and rain outside

Baking brownies and having treats with the kids

Tidying up something I’ve been meaning to get to without the pressure of a big project

Watching the rain from the couch with a coffee and a cat

Leave a comment

Let me know in the comments what you see when you slow down enough to notice ;)

Maybe that’s what I love most about rainy weekends in New England.

The sound of rain on the deck.

The fog settling into the trees behind the house.

The way the mountains disappear and reappear throughout the day.

The smell that drifts in through an open window after a summer storm.

Everything feels quieter somehow.

The world doesn’t stop, but it does seem to exhale.

New England feels different in the rain... and I’m here for it.

Not every weekend ends with tired legs and a summit photo for me. Some end with a finished book and an extra cup of coffee.

The Reminder I Needed

I spend a lot of time encouraging people to get outside more, but sometimes the lesson isn’t to do more.

The lesson is in learning to stay still. To give yourself permission to just chill. Spend more time with family or whatever it is that recharges you.

Rainy weekends remind me that rest doesn’t have to be earned, but sometimes it takes a rainy day to interrupt our patterns enough for us to see clearly.

Maybe that’s why I love rainy weekends so much. They remind me that I don’t always need a goal, a project, a hike, or a checklist. Sometimes what I need most is an afternoon with nowhere to be, a cup of coffee, and the people I love under the same roof.

“Hey Kaci... I would love to start hiking too. What should I carry with me?”

While you’ll find endless lists online about what you should carry on a day hike (and those are great), I’d like to share some of what I carry with me as a 48-year-old midsize, slow hiker. Not a “perfect” list, but some of what I actually carry for both safety and comfort on a hike in New England.

Funny thing is... when people ask what I carry, I’m guessing they are expecting a bulleted gear list. What I’ve learned over the years, is what I pack says more about HOW I hike, than what I hike with.

My Non-Negotiables

When I began hiking again in my 40s (and started going alone), it felt like I needed more gear every time I turned around. Every list I found on the internet sounded like I was preparing for the apocalypse. Over time, I’ve learned that most of what I pack ends up on repeat, so it’s ok for it to be a little boring. Every item has its place!

• Water – I typically carry a liter on a day hike with a backup filter just in case.

• Snacks – I don’t want to be hangry and no one else wants me to be either😉

• Phone and charging block – I use it for GPS and texting my check ins to those at home.

• Small first aid kit – just enough to patch up myself or others on the trail. I was able to share a band aid once with a small girl who skinned her knee on trail. Did she need it? Maybe not, but it sure made her feel better – the nurse in me is always prepared for an injury!

• Headlamp – even on a day hike... I had to use mine once when I was having so much fun on trail, that I went way farther than I thought and got caught after dark.

• GPS device – If I’m solo, I need to be able to call for help if needed. It’s one of my more expensive pieces of gear, but it gives both me and my family peace of mind when I’m out alone.

• Layers – rain jacket in summer and a winter layer when it’s cold. 28-year-old me had no clue how to layer and was always too cold. 48-year-old me has enough experience to dial the layers in, so I don’t have to think.

I’ve learned over the years the New England weather changes fast, so I don’t mind carrying the few extra ounces for the peace of mind. I once had to buy a jacket at a mountain hut above tree line when the weather changed, and I was worried about making it back down!

The Things I Carry Because I’m 48, Not 28

I used to be able to take a tumble and shake it off, but these days, injury is just around the corner if I’m not careful. I have enough miles on these old bones, that I know where to put my energy. Here are a few things that keep me safe – because I’d rather finish the hike than prove anything to anyone.

• Ankle Brace – I’ve got some old injuries that make problems for me every once in a while, and I don’t want to be stuck on a trail.

• Trekking poles – These days my knees love a little extra support and water crossings are WAY easier with poles. I’m not a fan of wet feet.

• Ibuprofen – always a good idea when the aches and pains kick in.

• Reading Glasses – I always bring my glasses with me – My old eyes can’t read a thing without them!

Hiking in midlife isn’t worse than when you’re younger; it’s just different. My body needs a little more support to make it through, but it gets there! The more I accept where I’m at hiking gets more fun, since I’m not fighting my body.

My Favorite Comfort Items that Make Hiking More Enjoyable

• Small sit pad – My tush always appreciates a warm dry spot to park when I have my snacks.

• Lip balm – With all that heavy breathing, my lips get dry, so I carry one with me on every hike.

• Buff or lightweight neck gaiter – It weighs almost nothing but somehow solves a dozen little problems on the trail.

No one is giving out trophies because you did a hard hike. It’s all about what you enjoy and finding the balance between bringing too much and making the hike comfortable enough to enjoy it. I don’t know about you, but I don’t always want Type 2 Fun. Sometimes I just want a slow walk in the woods with a snack at the end.

Here’s What I’m Not Carrying

• Too many “just in case” things – I used to be weighed down with stuff like two water bottles and I have to say, I never used that second one once.

• A whole extra outfit – When I learned to layer, it saved me so much weight on my back! When you layer properly you can add and subtract for weather all day long as needed, and New England weather is notorious.

Both my own experience over the years and learning from other experienced hikers has helped me to simplify my pack over time. I usually weigh in somewhere between 5-7 lbs (more in winter) for a day pack and that’s not too hard to carry.

My Typical Day Hike Snacks

Hiking snacks don’t have to be complicated. They just need to be portable and easy to eat. I always try to pair a protein with a carb for steady energy and it usually works out well for me.

• Protein Bar – My favorite these days is Kate’s Real Food as I can recognize what’s in it and they taste amazing!

• Jerky – I’ll throw in Chomps or Paleo Valley for protein and pair it with a carb like crackers or a fun candy as a treat

• LMNT packet – I have more energy with electrolytes on longer hikes, and LMNT is the one I actually enjoy drinking.

• Whatever random snack I find in the pantry no one else will eat and I don’t want to waste... enough said.

The truth is my pack isn’t very impressive.

Honestly, if you dumped my pack out onto the floor, you’d find more than what I talked about here. There are always a few extra randoms rattling around. But these things are the things I think about every hike – the ones that make the biggest difference.

The more years I hike, the less I care about the perfect setup (although I LOVE a good piece of fun gear!).

I care more about getting outside consistently.

My pack is just a collection of things that help me spend another day outside.

And that’s what matters to me most.

Maybe that’s one gift of getting older. I spend little time worrying about how fast I am, how far I hike or having the perfect ultralight setup. I just want to be comfortable enough, prepared enough and healthy enough to keep doing something that brings me joy.

Not the gear.

Not the mileage.

Not the summit photos (although I do love a good summit!)

Just having what I need so I can keep showing up.

One trail at a time.

*A few readers have asked for links to some of the snacks and gear I use. I've added them throughout the article where relevant.

Disclosure: This post contains affiliate links. If you purchase through them, I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you.

I’m a pretty boring person. At least on the surface.

I’m a homebody. I genuinely love being at home. I love being in the mountains for the same reason - the quiet and calm of a simple life soothe me in a way nothing else can.

Somewhere along the line, the life I used to think looked small, started feeling incredibly rich.

I began to see all the good things I was missing in the hustle and bustle of family life and a demanding profession. As a nurse, wife and mom, so much of my attention was focused on the next task, the next responsibility, the next thing that needed to get done.

I recently rediscovered a book on my shelf I’ve had since high school.

Back when I spent all my money on books and CDs, I found an absolute GEM called 14,000 Things to be Happy About. Curious, I sat down and flipped through the pages, looking at all the things I highlighted as a teenager.

What surprised me wasn’t how much had changed.

It was how much hadn’t.

Most of the things that made me happy then still make me happy today.

Sunrises.

Books.

Quiet mornings.

Freshly cut grass.

Birds outside my window.

A cozy place to curl up with a book.

Even teenage Kaci seemed to understand something that took me decades to fully appreciate - happiness is often hidden in the small things.

That got me thinking about attention.

Not productivity.

Not achievement.

Attention.

What would happen if I spent more time noticing the things that already make life good.

Routines That Quietly Anchor Me

Morning coffee before everyone gets up.

Most mornings, I have my coffee with a book in the morning before the house becomes busy and I have places to be.

This tiny habit grounds my day. When the weather is nice, I often sit outside and listen to the birds while the neighborhood slowly wakes up.

Walking after dinner.

When I’m not working, I almost always take a walk.

It’s another gift from the pandemic years that somehow stuck.

Most often, my husband comes with me, and we walk past horses, beautiful trees, sunset views and a gaggle of ducks in the brook down the street.

Sunset gardening.

I love being outside when the sun is low in the sky.

Sometimes I deadhead flowers. Sometimes I pull a few weeds. Sometimes I simply walk through the garden with a glass of wine or a Fresca and admire what’s growing.

Sunrise drives to work.

Even the long commute can become a gorgeous routine, when it involves a sunrise and a good audio book. I’m lucky to be driving straight east in the morning and some days the sky puts on a show that feels like it’s just for me.

The Wellness Lesson I Didn’t Expect

I spent years thinking wellness had to be dramatic.

It had to be extreme.

It had to be perfect.

I thought happiness would arrive when I finally became a better version of myself.

So I chased improvement.

I tried all the things I thought would make me healthier, happier, more productive, more successful.

But eventually I realized something surprising.

The things that improved my life the most, weren’t dramatic at all.

They were the routines.

The daily rhythms that made life feel calmer, easier and more enjoyable.

I know that isn’t very exciting.

But it’s true.

Life is speeding up now with two teenagers in the house, yet I’ve been intentionally trying to slow it down (or at least slow my brain down!) and appreciate the season I’m in before it passes.

Michelle Obama once said that much of life is ordinary and we have to learn to be happy there too.

I think she’s right.

These routines are almost invisible to the people around me at times, but their quiet consistency has brought me far more peace than the intensity I chased in my 20s.

Most of life isn’t built in big breakthrough moments you see on Instagram. It’s built in the ordinary routines we come back to time and time again.

If you spend enough time online, it’s easy to get caught up in feeling like every hike should be a summit photo from Mt. Rainier or every home should look like a Pinterest Board.

Real life isn’t like that.

As I get closer to the season when my children will leave home, I’m becoming aware of how quickly the phases of life pass.

Not long ago, I felt constantly overstimulated and desperately craved solitude.

Now I notice quiet pockets of time returning to my life.

And when they do, I find myself drawn to remarkably simple things.

A hike.

A garden.

A hammock.

A good book.

And maybe that’s why I love hiking so much.

The trail doesn’t care how much I have to do when I get home.

It doesn’t care about my to do list, my responsibilities, or the emails waiting for me.

The trail is the same no matter what.

In a strange way, the trail reduces life back down to the basics.

Lately, I’ve been wondering if joy isn’t hiding in grand achievements at all.

Maybe it’s hiding in the slow repetition of ordinary routines.

The things we do every day.

The moments we almost overlook.

The life that’s already in front of us.

I used to think ordinary meant unremarkable.

Now I think it might be the whole point.

The years of yo-yo dieting and having babies were taking a toll and my body was kind of a wreck. Shortly after turning 40 I was actually in the best shape of my life, but I was lifting hard 5 days a week, doing cardio multiple days a week and sleeping terribly. I was chronically exhausted and had no clue what else to do.

It took a pandemic and a major ankle sprain to force me to slow down enough to see clearly what I was doing wrong. I realized I spent years trying to make my body smaller instead of trying to make it stronger.

I began a long journey of relearning my body and figuring out what I actually needed to feel strong again. In midlife, recovery takes longer, injury prevention is paramount and muscle mass naturally declines with age. These things are normal, but they aren’t a death sentence!

From Smaller to Stronger

The more you know about how your body best fuels itself, the better off you’ll be in the long run. This is when I began the shift in my mind from Smaller to Stronger. I wasn’t concerned any longer about being the smallest version of myself. I not only wanted to be strong enough to hike when I want to, but to get up from the floor easily! I wanted to make sure I am strong well into my old age.

Specifically in my case, having recently started on a GLP-1 for some medical issues I was experiencing, muscle gains became harder and more important than ever – and the key is protein.

What I Focus on Now

• Strength gains/preserving muscle - I lift 3-4 days a week as my main focus. It’s not perfect, but I’m building slowly back from years of small injuries.

• Adequate protein intake for my weight – I aim for roughly 0.5gm of protein per pound of body weight, though everyone’s needs are different.

• Targeted supplements to keep my gains solid – I began creatine when I started the medication, so that my strength gains wouldn’t disappear.

What I Actually Do in a Day to Prioritize Protein:

• Protein early and often – On a GLP-1 it can be trickier to eat enough, so I start early in the day and do protein with every meal and snack.

• Softer/liquid protein – things that are easier to digest move through faster and give me less trouble.

• Hiking snacks became denser, and more protein-focused, paired with a carb for energy.

So what do I take on a day hike or during my 12 hour nursing shifts, so that I make sure to keep up with my goals?? First, I calculated my personal protein goal and tracked the foods I was normally gravitating toward for a whole day, to see how close I was naturally getting to the protein goal. With that in mind, I tweaked some things and had a better idea of what the perfect day would look like.

That allowed me to move through my days with ease instead of a food scale. I now get pretty close to my personal protein goals without going nuts and tracking every morsel. On average, if I can get 3 meals with 20-30g protein and a couple of solid snacks in with 10 or so, I’m in the ballpark.

Easy Protein Foods I Keep on Repeat

• Eggs + toast

• Cottage cheese + fruit

• Overnight oats with protein powder

• Paleo Valley meat sticks

• Nuts + protein shake

• Cheese stick + apple

• Premade tuna packets + crackers

• Canned tuna and bean salad

• Protein bars like LUNA or Kate’s Real Food bars

Protein is going to help you build and keep muscle, recover quicker after long hikes, fuel your adventures and stay fuller longer on your off days.

If you’re still struggling with protein, my best advice? Find a way to make it easy with repeat meals and pre calculated options that you don’t have to think about. Then you have more energy to focus on the parts of life that matter most to you.

Don’t overcomplicate it.

Just like most midlife women, I’m still learning. I still don’t hit my goals some days. Shift work makes consistency hard, and I still love a good glass of wine and tortilla chips with my husband.

But at some point, protein stopped being about dieting and started to be about supporting the life I actually wanted to live.

A strong body that lets me hike farther, recover better and hopefully continue doing the things I love for a very long time.

I can vividly remember cutting out a picture from a swimsuit catalog in the teens and taping it up next to my mom’s treadmill. I would gaze at it while trying to make my body smaller. I would chomp on all the low-fat snacks and Lean Cuisine meals in the house while planning workouts that I would inevitably give up on a week or two in.

I could go into how we, as a society, are conditioning girls to have unhealthy habits, but the point for me is more about my own journey here and helping someone it resonates with to feel a little less alone. I spent years thinking I was on an island alone in these feelings and don’t want that for my daughter.

Over the years, both as an RN and someone deeply interested in health and wellness, I’ve realized sustainable habits matter far more than perfect ones. I am also a midlife woman who has spent the better part of 40 years trying to make my body do things it just doesn’t see fit to do! If you can relate to any of that, you’re in the right place!

It took the world shutting down for me to get serious about my health in a sustainable way – it forced a slowdown I wasn’t able to see clearly before. I began some of these habits during a shutdown where I still had to show up for a very stressful job and needed a stress reliever. We were afraid and needed an outlet!

So here are my top 5 habits I have managed to keep going in some way or another, even when life gets in my way:

Walking after dinner. I walk after dinner almost every day. It’s a perfect habit for regulating stress hormones and blood sugar, but I also couple this one with connection and often take this walk with my husband. We chat about our day and head down the street to look at our local ducks and horses. Weather has to be pretty bad for us not to go and during the shutdown it was the thing we looked forward to the most.

Consistent bedtime. It doesn’t mean that I never stay up late, but it’s few and far between these days. I get to bed consistently at 10pm and I make no excuses. As an RN who often has to be to work at 5:30am, I need those hours in bed! Sleep is where your brain resets and cleans up the messes of the day, so I prioritize it! I even recently got diagnosed with Obstructive Sleep Apnea and my new CPAP machine has been saving my life!

No More All-or-Nothing. Missed the walk today? Oh well. Ate ice cream before bed? Tomorrow is another day. I used to let those things get in my head and it was a slippery slope to giving up all my habits. I no longer allow that to happen. I just restart every day as needed. Perfection is the enemy of progress – I’m not who said that first, but it’s so true!

More Protein – I know, I know... it’s having a moment right now, but that’s for good reason. As a woman deep in the throes of perimenopause, it’s not something I can skip out on. My mindset is to keep my day protein forward. For me, that looks like protein focus early in the day and eating protein first at meals, so I make sure to get enough in. I could go on, but that will be for another post.

Focus on energy, not weight. I have had a lot of changes in recent years to sort through for this one, more to come on that later, but it’s one of the biggest shifts for me and one I’m teaching my teenagers. While some days those thoughts still creep in about looking a certain type of way, I always come back to reminding myself what my body has done for me – and it’s a lot!

I hope you’ll find these helpful in your own life. Small habits can lead up to real change.

Let me know in the comments what you think about how helpful these have been in your own life, or what you’re struggling with these days – I’d love to have more conversations about these in midlife and beyond.