It had been almost 45 years since my first independent summit of Woodstock’s Mount Tom. After starting with great confidence, I vaguely remember the temptation to ask my father or mother for a lift, but I wanted to be a big boy and walk the entire Faulkner Trail on my own two feet.
Many decades later, I woke up the day after surgery, determined to take this trek again. At a very different time of life, it felt like a comforting journey, an important rite of passage and symbolic new beginning.
The surgery was a thyroidectomy. During a checkup to ensure I was ready to donate one of my kidneys to my mother, Pat Richardson, the doctor noticed that my neck was swollen. After more testing and doctors, I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer.
Ironically, instead of saving my mom from her kidney disease, she had saved me. While thyroid cancer is generally very treatable and curable, the cancer diagnosis felt ominous and I was crushed I could no longer donate the kidney.
Mom had always been a hiking and nature advocate, and I inherited her love for the outdoors. Whether we were hiking in her native Tennessee, the side of a volcano when we lived in Costa Rica or the trails of Vermont, she would enthusiastically share her discoveries.
As Mom’s health deteriorated, I would push her wheelchair on local dirt roads. My mother also liked to bring nature indoors. In addition to decorating with plants, rocks and birch bark, she created microenvironments of the Vermont woods in her moss terrarium.
I climbed Mount Tom that Monday morning after surgery with my mother’s example and lessons very much in mind. I wanted to be able to show her that I was willing and able to fight as hard as she was, and to share some stories and photos of the trails we had shared so many times.
I was also determined to climb for myself. The cancer was a wake-up call, and I had to find a way to focus on my own health. I loved my job as the headmaster of the Oliverian School in Pike, N.H., but I realized I was putting my students to far ahead of my own family and health.
After an injury playing indoor soccer, I stopped exercising. When I had the medical review for the transplant, I realized I had not been to a doctor in more than three years. I had to start taking care of myself, and I felt compelled to reconnect with trails and nature.
That early-morning spring hike up Mount Tom was more challenging than I want to admit. I took the Precipice Trail, one of the more technical and shorter paths to the top. I stopped frequently to catch my breath and take photos and videos for my mom. With her in mind, I soaked up everything, including the moss covered rocks, slowly unfurling tree buds and small spring waterfalls.
That post-surgery Mount Tom hike felt curative, a way to both accept and push back against the cancer. It was a new beginning. After a couple of more years at Oliverian, I decided to step away from school leadership to truly focus on family and my own health and well being.
During that time, I often spent most of my waking hours on the trails in and around Woodstock.
I learned basic trail maintenance, and I now pride myself on being first to clean up local sections of the Appalachian Trail after storms.
As I started to look for work again, I needed a change and a way to give back. I could not believe my luck upon discovering the Upper Valley Trails Alliance and its need for a development director. I still hike every day, sometimes as a part of my work when helping with trail maintenance.
It just feels right to be working for an organization that is completely dedicated to connecting people and communities to trails and nature. I am personally thankful to be doing work that honors the gift that our region’s trails have been to me and my family.
Randy Richardson is Development Director at the Upper Valley Trails Alliance. He can be reached at randy.richardson@uvtrails.org or 802-649-9075.