By Marty Basch

Having spent a great deal of time the past few months hiking in the White Mountains, I am struck by what I see when I look down and while maintaining consistent eye-level sight.

I don't mean striking mountains on the horizon, schizophrenic chipmunks, staircases, drainages, blow-downs or gummi bear-like newts.

I'm talking about my feet and trail blazes.

Hiking feet take a beating in rain, mud, water crossings, over roots and traversing nefarious jumble yards of rock. Add to that a backpack, and the stresses only increase. Feet will protest in the form of hot spots and blisters.

Happy Feet

I've found a little foot care prevention goes a long way to ensuring happy feet.

In spring, I purchased a new pair of boots, making sure I'd be able to wear two socks on each foot. I'm a firm believer in layering my feet, first with a thin moisture-wicking sock followed by a standard hiking sock (Thorlo and Darn Tough). I broke the boots in on a couple of short-distance treks before committing them to higher and longer marches.

During a hike, I unlace and re-tie my boots a few times, making sure the tongue is where it should be. If I'm camping or at a hut, I bring sandals to wear. I find that rubbing a moisturizing skin lotion on the tired dogs at day's end keeps those puppies happy. So does keeping toenails trim.

Another absorbing tidbit about hiking feet is that some work harder than others. After many miles of hearing my lovely better half, a foot shorter than I, inform me that she had to take more steps than I to cover the same distance (I think that really meant I was supposed to make dinner reservations) and was therefore working harder to achieve the same goal, she finally proved it on a short stretch of the Lincoln Woods Trail. On it is a sign asking hikers how many paces they take in 200 feet. The idea is to educate trampers about camping and starting fires in the wilderness, prohibited within 200 feet of trails in those protected areas. In that 200 feet, I counted 79 strides, she 97. Therefore, she concluded, she works 20 percent harder than I do. I took her to dinner.

Which Way?

While not focused on feet, often attention leans toward seeing reassuring trail blazes. As if you can't stay on trail, right? All it takes is a sharp bend and venturing straight or mistaking a drainage ditch for the path. Then there's following the trail made by other unsure souls or one to a makeshift privy. Detours at troublesome water crossings are another way to lose one's way.

That's why I like to see blazes. Not too often, but just enough to ease my mind. White (for the Appalachian Trail), red, yellow, blue and other comforting colored blazes are often encouraging as long as they don't detract from that wilderness, soulful experience many hikers seek in the mountains. Along with trail signs, they are useful navigational aids. I've been on trails where the markings look like a dotted yellow passing lane on a country road. It's like they're screaming in the woods, noise instead of silence. But too much silence or lack of blazing also can be unnerving, a welcome sight during an uncertain stretch.

Double blazes are like directional arrows at traffic lights. See one and be prepared to make a left or right.

I don't particularly care for trail blazes on rock while in the woods. I don't mind a couple when I'm above tree-line, especially if the route bends or is hard to follow. Cairns tend to suffice. I also don't like to see them when I'm climbing on hands and knees on steep ledges. If I'm hugging ground, I know exactly where I am.

It seems to me the more remote and longer trails - particularly those without junctions - tend to see fewer blazes. Perhaps it is because they are traveled by more seasoned hikers. The shorter and more popular trails appear to be more colorfully adorned with markers, backcountry security blankets and crutches for the masses.

Most of the blazes are painted on. There are also plastic blazes, many triangular in shape and usually associated with ski trails. On occasion, I think I've also seen metal markings, but I can't be sure.

However, I am sure that happy feet make for happy trailblazers tramping through the woods.