I was once again the first and only car at the trailhead parking lot at 7:45 Monday morning.
The sunlight was just starting to creep over the trees, turning the clouds various shades of pink, red, and orange as I tightened my shoelaces and waited for my Garmin to connect. All the while, a large gaggle of geese in the river were honking away.
It was a balmy 21˚ when I took off down the park path to the trails, but oddly, it felt warmer. Maybe it was the mental rub and a tug of seeing some sun instead of the usual low-hanging, steely grey clouds that so often accompany Michigan’s frigid temps from November ’till May. Or maybe I was just happy to be heading into the woods with my camera after two days of slack. Either way, it was a win.
I wasted little time and found a nice groove to my early morning lumber and enjoyed what felt like having the whole woods to myself except for the squirrels, geese, and deer.
Over the five miles, I was alone, and the closest I came to actually see a human was with about .15 of a mile to go; I saw the park ranger driving his hoopty from a distance as I crossed the river on the suspension bridge. And then, when I got back to Escape II, the car belonging to “The Guy My Imagination Accused of Living in The Park” was there.
I got a couple pics, but nothing great, and was soon heading home for breakfast, followed by grocery shopping, errand running, and laundry.
Speaking of laundry…
Early Monday evening, I decided to take the large basket of folded clothes (you’re welcome) upstairs. As I walked towards the stairs, my slipper hit some unseen water that Lola and Jake (the dog) had slobbered from bowl to face to the floor. My extended left leg started sliding along the floor, and my right leg slid back and continued downward until my knee finally hit the ground with a thud and a “Whhhhhhhooooa fuck!!”
For a brief moment, I was down in a James Brown-esque split with one leg fully out, one knee down, and a basket of folded laundry held safely aloft.
It was painful, beautiful, hilarious, and amazing all at the same time! Thank the fitness gods for the fact that I do a lot of stretching these days, or I don’t think my quads and hamstring muscles would have been very impressed. I’d love to know how many injuries I have suffered at the paws of Jake and Lola.
I like to imagine my neighbors saw me through the glass doors and thought, “Wow, that Jason has some real moves for a white guy!” Doubtful, but a guy can dream.
TUESDAY
Jake (the dog) still hasn’t gotten on board with Daylight Savings Time and, for the past month, has awakened me at least a half hour before my alarm. While I COULD just let him figure it out, Jake is NOT that smart and is now over 13 years old, which means I could get 30 minutes more sleep but would need to clean up his mess when I got up. So, when I hear him whine or bark, it’s easier just to get up and take him outside and then go back to bed for a pointless 25 minutes. And that is how I started my Tuesday.
Once I got out of bed for real, I fed the dogs, coffeed up, dumped out, layered up, and was out the door for another lumber in temps struggling to make it into the 20s, as a frozen fog fell, coating the trees with a heavy, thick frost.
“I miss summer,” I mumbled aloud to myself as I hurled Escape II down the road with Flat Worms filling my earholes.
“Crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch” was the sound of my feet lumbering over the frozen trails as my stomach growled in hungry anticipation for a hot breakfast when I got home. The air was crisp, clean, and so cold that the first few inhales of the wintry air burned with each breath, and my fingers struggled to ever warm up despite being ensconced in their gloves.
I hiked 5.50 miles, took a few crap photos, and once again saw no other humans, which is always a bonus.
It’s been a cold but pretty good start to a week of lumbering, and I’m looking forward to more and, hopefully, some better luck with photos.
Later.
THE SOILED SOUNDS TRACK OF THE POST