In my quest to reconnect with those wild places that I love, I am always on the lookout for secluded spots where I will hear nature’s voice loudly and clearly. Yesterday, that quest led me to a wonderful hiking path called the Railroad Trail in Springvale, that spans land once used by a rail line that ran from Portland to Worcester, Mass.

Other than the initial steep slope at the Main Street (Route 109) access point, the entire eight-mile-long trail is flat and rated as “easy” on Hike New England’s website. The hiking time is rated as roughly four hours, and I did about a third of it in 90 minutes. That included my walk to and from my apartment to both trailheads and back.

In addition to the Main Street entry, the trail can also be accessed at the upper end of Oak Street and on Hanson’s Ridge Road, where the Oak Street section exits. My next hike will involve driving up to Hanson’s Ridge and taking the trailhead there to the trail’s end at the Lebanon town line.

Considering that I hadn’t planned to go as far as I did on that initial exploratory walk, I am glad now that I decided to tackle the second, and longer, leg of my journey. It’s been years since I’ve done this type of distance walking, but the farther I went along that path, the more curious I got as to what lay ahead. I took lots of pictures, which slowed me down some, but the brief stops provided me with just the short respites I needed as a badly out-of-shape 60-plus grandmother.

There is lots to see along that trail, including a spectacular swamp littered with dried and shriveled trees crisscrossing each other on top of tussocks of marsh grass. At one point, tall rocky outcroppings flanked the trail on either side, and small vernal pools, mossy brooks and water holes appeared at every turn. But perhaps the most rewarding of all was Deering Pond, and as tired as I had grown by that point, the sight of that body of water suddenly appearing amongst the trees and shimmering in the partial sunlight canceled everything else out.

I found it amazing that not a single building was to be seen anywhere near or around this pristine body of water. It is totally unspoiled. Warblers sang from trees, and the pale sunlight glinted on submerged rocks near the shore. I hated to leave, but being unsure as to how much farther I was from the end of the trail, it was time to push on.

Reaching the trail’s Hanson’s Ridge Road end presented me with a dilemma. I could walk the main road, which would have meant climbing a very steep hill, or I could head east toward where I did not know at the time. So I experienced what I call a Forrest Gump moment: I simply turned around and went back the way I’d come. I passed the swamp and the pond again, and grabbed a stick to make the walk a bit easier. It seemed to go by more quickly this time around, and before I knew it, there was the Oak Street entrance. Once there, it was a relief to again hit pavement and coast down the sloping street toward home, and it wasn’t until I’d gotten almost to the street that I realized how frightful I must have looked.

I’d started out with a hooded sweatshirt-jacket on and carrying a small backpack containing my cell phone and my camera and I was ending with the jacket tied around my waist and the backpack hanging from an unnatural angle from my shoulders. My hair was a mess and I was bathed in sweat. But I didn’t care. All that mattered to me at that point was that I’d done it and had seen some incredible things along the way.

I’ll do it again soon, for life is short and time is truly of the essence. And seeing Deering Pond, silent, alone and sparkling is simply too precious to be considered a once-in-a-lifetime event.

— Rachel Lovejoy, a freelance writer living in Springvale, who enjoys exploring the woods of southern Maine, can be reached via email at rachell1950@yahoo.com.