Returning after a week away exploring forest trails in the White Mountain National Forest of New Hampshire, there is always a bit of a disconnect, coming back to our daily perambulations in the forested trails of the ravine adjacent our street. An adjustment is required, though it doesn't take long.

In this instance, this year included speculating about how far the engineering and reconstruction had progressed in the ravine where the hillside slump that took place in April after prolonged rains threatened the houses backing on the ravine.

The first few days back we simply manoeuvred our way around the steel gated barriers the construction crews had erected, bypassing the signs warning that this was an active construction site and no one should enter, for once we passed that brief area where the work was taking place, all else was normal throughout the ravine and we were able to resume our usual daily hikes.

But a few days ago we were confronted once again with a work crew at the very site of entrance, with a steam shovel actively engaged in moving great amounts of rock being laid down to secure the areas vulnerable to further collapse and so we had to backtrack.

What it meant was walking down the length of our street in the opposite direction, crossing a major thoroughfare, and accessing another part of the ravine which hadn't been affected by the Leda clay that mostly comprises the forest floor dissolving into a slippery gel unable to hold itself together.

It's an attractive option, with flora growing differently there than in our much larger portion of the forested ravine. But though the trail is attractive enough, it is too short in relation to its opposite cousin, and the depth of the forest isn't as great before the rises are occupied by housing. As an alternate occasional choice it serves the purpose well, but lacks some of the distinctions of our own portion.

Still, we were grateful to have such ready access to an alternative.