Dear Molly, There was a stretch of the Appalachian Trail between Laurel Lake and Fuller Lake. It was paved and had some smaller branching trails that meandered in and out of the woods on either side of it. The mail trail was a railroad bed. One trail, swamp trail, aptly named, passed through a swampy area that always boasted bright green fiddlehead ferns even when the rest of the world was blanketed in snow. You were convinced that this was magic.