Cool and sunny but very windy, we decided to make the trip to West Rattlesnake. It's the only mountain, at a modest 1260 foot elevation that we will now trust ourselves to ascend. We plan to enjoy ourselves within the bosom of Mother Nature, and just mildly challenge our 82-year-old bodies, not create a dilemma for our energy, endurance and musculature to attempt to mount mountains of any significant height.

It's a popular mountain climb because of its modest energy challenge. Young children with their parents, teens, those in midlife and the older generation can all achieve its height with the intention to do so and in good health and physical condition. We take our time. We stop and rest when we feel the need to. Others overtake us on the trail, but we don't mind. We were among the 'others' too at one time.

Jackie and Jillie are happy to be out on the trail. We keep them on leash, both to control their propensity to bark and run after people, and to ensure they don't wander off, leaping after something that takes their interest -- and horror of horrors! potentially getting lost in the forest. We don't, in fact, see that many other climbers out this day. There have been times in the past when we've been on this trail when the flock of other climbers seemed never-ending.

When we first began to climb this picturesque trail where oak and hemlock predominate, and dogwood crowd the understory, our children were young and so were we. At that time, so long ago the trail was as nature made it feasible. Now, the trail has been 'enhanced' over previous decades, presumably to make it easier for climbers to negotiate its twists and turns. We find it otherwise.

The slabs of rock that have been laboriously put in place, along with timbers to form little 'stairs' are a nuisance, impeding our progress, not aiding it. There are many places where erosion has taken place, and the ladderwork of intertwined tree roots form their own kind of stairway, as do the tumbled rocks that have tumbled off the mountain slope at some time in the distant past.

The wind on this occasion has made short work of mosquitoes and that's a good news story. It's cool and windy enough that we need windbreakers, so we wear jackets to shield us from both. Jackie and Jillie wear their harnesses; they won't feel the cold until November arrives. Having them on leash while we climb is a nuisance. It's not Jillie, she is accustomed to walking in a straight line, ahead. Her brother, on the other hand, constantly veers from left to right, tangling their leashes continually.

His nervous disposition inclines him to want to inspect everything, satisfy his curiosity over everything, his moves sudden and erratic, quick and irritating. But there's little point in chastising him, it's the way he works out his nervous energy. It's why he is lean as opposed to his sister's stocky conformation, it's the reason he consumes double the food she does.

There are acorns scattered everywhere on the forest floor, on the trail, and they're much larger than acorns we're more accustomed to seeing. The girth of some of the oaks and pines attests to their venerable age. We see some truly impressive trunks, widespread crowns. Few wildflowers are to be seen adjacent the trail. But we did come across some fairly fascinating mushrooms, a brilliant red, close to the lookout where we eventually take a side trail and come out at the rocky outcropping.

It's always amazing to us that despite the granite face, there is obviously enough soil deposited over time to host ambitious young and sometimes old, gnarled pines and spruces. When we reached the lookout, I was close to being blown over by the wind as it gained strength at the height. We sat awhile, offering water and doggy treats to Jackie and Jillie. Several other hikers came along to view the valley below.

It's a splendid view, in fact, one we never fail to appreciate. And, as we did in June, we decided we would forego the trail leading to the official 'summit' of the mountain, overlooking Squam Lake. Also a very nice view, but mostly too crowded for our liking by others who've made the climb for that very purpose. The 'summit' is at a slightly higher elevation, the granite top wide and flat, but not by much. We simply prefer the serenity of the lookout which we usually visit before or after achieving the summit, but bypassed this time around.

And then we made our way carefully, but relatively speedily back down the mountain, Jackie and Jillie in the forefront, we following, treading over networks of roots and rocks, satisfied with our day's outing, and anticipating the rest of the day before us. So we decided to drive on to a lovely little town, Laconia, to mosey around a group antique shop there.