Hike #28 The Cairn Field | A Path Marked by Intention

Hike #28 Day 1 Vermont | September 21, 2025 | Hiking with AGC |8.81 miles, 1,824 ft ascent, 1,490 ft descent | Vermont 140 to Danby-Landgrove Road

I’m so excited to catch up with my friends Pam (we had hiked Massachusetts together) and Karen (one of our wonderful Maine guides)!! I also got to meet some new Vermont friends, Sarah, Sherri, and Vicki in the charming little town of Plymouth, Vermont. Now, backpacks loaded and boots tied, we’re officially beginning our Vermont journey with Adventures in Good Company (AGC). The day greeted us with a sharp 34-degree chill. My fingers tingled on the trekking poles, and the cold cut into my lungs as soon as we began the steady climb.

Within minutes, I felt it, my breathing changed and I felt nothing in my nose. The combination of the incline and the crisp air triggered my asthma. Each step upward seemed to tighten my chest. I stopped to clear my nose, which gave me a few seconds of relief, but the struggle quickly returned. As the hill steepened and the trail turned rocky, I had to pause again, this time longer, just to regain control of my breath.

And in those moments, I couldn’t help but think of my son Zane, who as a professional athlete has faced the same breathing struggles on the pickleball court. I’ve watched him battle to stay composed, to fight for every breath while competing at the highest level. Now here I was, out of the blue, fighting my own version of that same battle on the Appalachian Trail.

The weight of it all, my own struggle, his journey, and my memories finally hit me when we reached the cairn field near White Rocks Cliff. Dozens of rock towers stood quietly in the clearing, each one carefully placed. And suddenly, I was overwhelmed by sadness. I thought of my father, who died in his early 50s from an asthma attack. The symbolism of those cairns, of lives marked by moments and choices, collided with my emotions.

The Art of Placing Stones

Cairns are more than trail markers. They are pauses. Intentions. Decisions made visible.

Leaning against a rock, I realized each one represented something deeply human: a prayer, a milestone, a silly saying, a heartfelt thought, or for me… a breath taken in gratitude. And maybe that’s what they became for me in that moment, a way to honor the weight of my past, the struggles my son shares, and the lessons I carry forward.

As I get older, I’ve become more intentional with my own choices. About my time. My energy. My yeses and my nos. When I was younger, building Rise Commercial while raising kids, I often moved too fast. I didn’t always pause long enough to ask if something truly aligned with my purpose. But now, like the cairns, I choose to pause. To place my own markers with care.

Choosing Intention Over Impulse

Whether it’s launching a business, setting boundaries with evening commitments, or carving out space for my own health through sports and hiking, I’ve learned the value of putting down fewer, but more meaningful stones.

Each one says something:

• This project matters.
• This client aligns with my values.
• I can take my own pickleball game to the next level.
• This moment with my family comes first.
• This hike is for me.

Every cairn is a choice. And now, more than ever, I choose based on what adds value, not what adds noise.

Little Rock Pond | Stillness After Struggle

Later in the day, as we were on our decent, we reached Little Rock Pond, a pristine high mountain lake with a sandy beach and still waters. After my breathing struggles and the emotions of the cairn field, it felt like a gift. The contrast between the rocky intentionality of the cairns and the serene calm of the pond could not have been more powerful.

If the cairns reminded me of the weight of decisions, the pond reminded me of the relief that comes after you face them. When you fight for your breath, pause long enough to place a stone, and then allow yourself to rest, and find peace.