The United States has many mountain ranges: from the jagged Rocky Mountains, to the scenic volcanoes in the Cascades, and even the windy White Mountains of New Hampshire, the US has a diverse range of mountains scattered throughout the country. I love these places: they are truly natural, often removed from the rest of the world. Mountains invoke the feeling of the sublime and are obsessive subjects of American literature. Yet, these these places are inaccessible to a vast majority of the country. Books are the only way most people can experience these pristine environments. Living in Connecticut has lots of positives: we have access to New York city, beautiful small towns, and pretty fall foliage. One problem remains: you have to drive six hours to get to the closest mountain range, the White Mountains of New Hampshire. This ideal American sublime is not accessible for the vast majority of Connecticut inhabitants. Most of us will never be able to spend meaningful time in this amazing environment, a place that inspires millions of outdoor enthusiasts every year, even Thoreau! 

Recently, I hiked the 20 mile Ives trail that traverses across natural spaces in Ridgefield and Danbury in an attempt to find this feeling in our own backyard.There were no waterfalls, massive cliffs, or stunning vistas. Instead, I felt that I was constantly in a suburban neighborhood. Dogs barked at me and I got weird looks from windows. I was the only car in the parking lot for a reason. I felt awkward and uncomfortable, and almost turned around and went home pretty early on. Yet, somewhere in that hike, for a few brief moments, I was separated from the rest of the world, entrenched in the Connecticut forest. In between Route 8, and busier parks, I found myself in unpopulated valleys, filled with boulders and ponds. The trail was filled with leaves, seeing little to no use or maintenance. I truly felt that I was in my own world. Connecticut parks aren’t exactly a tourist attraction: I didn’t see a single soul for hours. Even if the next road was just over a hill, I was completely alone. It doesn’t matter how many acres the natural space is, or the vertical elevation of the mountains:  I was still inspired by the emptiness of the forest, the feeling of the sublime around me. 

 I argue that we can access a commune with nature, the feeling of the sublime in our own backyards. We just have to adjust our mindset. Our little state is littered with many trail systems, beautiful lakes and hardwood forests. I encourage you to open a map, and look for green spaces near you. We have the same trees, the same rocks, the same lakes, as they do in the Rockies, and they evoke the same feelings. If you want to go outside, it doesn’t have to be difficult. Rather than hundreds of dollars for gas, hotels, and then jumping onto the same crowded trail as thousands of other people, all you have to do is walk outside your door.