Brunswick Hiker Shares Decades of Trail Wisdom as Summer Hiking Season Peaks

For Sandy Stott of Brunswick, navigating a rocky New England trail is less about endurance and more about rhythm.

Stott, who serves as chairperson of Brunswick's Conservation Commission and sits on the Brunswick-Topsham Land Trust's board of directors, has spent a lifetime developing his approach to trail terrain. Now, as summer hiking season reaches its height across Maine, he's offering a philosophy for those who find themselves challenged by the region's unforgiving footing.

"The upended, frost-split rock is their residue," Stott writes of New England's mountains, shaped by ancient glaciers. "And everyone who visits our uplands, large or little, must contend with their odd angles."

His own introduction to the White Mountains came at age 17, when he first ran through the ridges connecting Mount Washington and Mount Jefferson. A recent conversation with a younger friend who had completed a loop through New Hampshire's Pemigewasset Wilderness prompted reflection on how one's relationship with trails evolves over decades.

The friend described a section of the route as "a bomber descent off Flume and a flat mile out to the road." For Stott, the phrase sparked both recognition and gentle resistance.

"'Bomber descent' — no way no way no way no no way way," he writes, describing his own approach to steep, rocky downhills. Rather than committing to speed, Stott has learned to dance.

His technique centers on what he calls "going up" — a counterintuitive maneuver where a hiker jumps slightly higher when the next landing spot isn't immediately visible.

"In those few airborne seconds, you discover your next step, even if it is a thin edge of stone," Stott explains, crediting a mountain-running counselor who taught him the approach at age 14. "You land and light out simultaneously."

This philosophy shapes how Stott moves through familiar terrain, including the Crystal Spring woodlands managed by the Brunswick-Topsham Land Trust, where he often walks alone.

"Even as I walk and shuffle the same trails as my younger friend and my younger self, I leave the bombing to them and dance down now in short steps," he writes.

For hikers looking to improve their trail confidence, Stott offers several practical guidelines. Never take one step where you can take two. Avoid roots and decaying wood, which become dangerously slippery. Learn to distinguish between skim mud and bog. Follow the path water has carved — its downhill trace typically offers the most graceful route.

And perhaps most importantly: stop whenever you want to take in the view. When moving, keep your focus on the trail ahead.

Stott's trail experience extends beyond personal recreation. In addition to his conservation commission work, he writes for the Appalachian Mountain Club's publication Appalachia and contributes to various regional outlets. Yet at its core, his approach remains fundamentally simple — a blend of patience, awareness, and a willingness to embrace the uneven ground beneath your feet.