The hike itself isn't really that spectacular. The views are so-so; the trail ends in too much snow and ice to make it to the top. The sun isn't shining quite right for the kind of photography I like best. My muscles hurt and I wonder "what for?"

But even in my "poor me" attitude I am able to be thankful for:

• My healthy and outdoors-contented children. Sometimes it takes strangers, like the couple we encounter who marvel that our children aren't whining, to help you appreciate what's been right in front of you all along.
• Artisan anadama bread we eat with our lunch (yum, yum). Bread is a real treat in our mostly gluten-free home.
• Newly opened leaves on a few small trees when everything else around is still gray and brown.
• Bugs that haven't yet figured out how warm it is and are still hiding their blood-sucking, flesh-biting larval behinds in a vernal pool somewhere.

When we reach the end I concede it wasn't all so bad. In fact, looking back it was mostly enjoyable. It might not have been the "best hike ever" but at the very least I was building bone mass, smelling warm pine (the BEST smell ever) and spending time with my favorite people in the world.

Later I sit in the car and wait while my family does a little shopping (it is North Conway after all). I prop up my stinky feet on the dash and take out my knitting. And then I realize that sometimes the best part of the hike is not during your trek but the warm, weary and contented feeling you get when you are done.