The week of outdoor lumbering thus far, and for the foreseeable future, has been completed on snowshoes, and with each day, my lumbers have gotten a bit longer.
Tuesday was 3.75, Wednesday was 4.75, and today’s snowy lumber was my longest yet, coming at 5.36 miles. Having said that, with about a mile to go in today’s hike, I remembered why I don’t like to hike too long on snowshoes—it’s slow, and it HURTS. Eventually.
Yeah, yeah, it’s JUST walking. Walking on snow, in theory, IS easier done with snowshoes, but there’s just so fast I can go on them, and I’m not enamored with winter enough to get lighter “running” snowshoes. Also, when I say it “hurts,” that is not to say the act of snowshoeing hurts; that would be weird, but the aftermath of snowshoeing, especially after doing it three days in a row and using muscles that I don’t use “just walking.”
So, after 3 snowshoe lumbers in a row, 13.85 miles, a raging case of DOMS, and a brain soured on winter (again), I am retreating to the trainer in the Not-So Stankment for the rest of the week. I think. Maybe. I don’t know; Wifey is heading out of town for a week-long business conference on Saturday morning, so I may seek some trail time somewhere to kill some time and blow that “alone time” stink off of me. You know, the stink that smells like fart, beer, tacos, and spent body fluids.
Lost snood, day three.
Later.