These are desperate times, and I am a desperate man.
This week, my longing to walk and hike on snow-free trails drove me (literally) to a couple of my old Dirt Road Launching Pads1 to use as a “trailhead.”
These are desperate times, and I am a desperate man.
This week, my longing to walk and hike on snow-free trails drove me (literally) to a couple of my old Dirt Road Launching Pads1 to use as a “trailhead.”
Honking of Own Platypus Alert!
Sunday marked the 6-month anniversary of the 2022 Not Dead Yet Comeback Special/2023 Soil The Woods Tour, and I, of course, celebrated with a short morning hike in the snow to put me at 600.95 miles hiked since September 19th.
Writing is sort of like self-gratification; if you stop doing it every day, it’s real easy to lose your mojo. At least, that’s what I assume my creepy college Creative Writing professor would have said had I actually gone to college and had I actually ever taken a creative writing class.
And that is my way of saying that I got off track with my blog writing due to spending too much time in the wintry woods, taking shitty photos, perfecting the dark art of the homemade veggie burger, and of course, self-gratifying. But like wayward vomit to a drunkard’s shoes, I’m back!
At least until I get sidetracked again.
Despite spring being uninterested in making an appearance anytime soon and continued snow and wintry puke, I managed to hit my WCA-approved 20-mile goal last week. There was much rejoicing.
Last week was completely and utterly forgettable. The snow/freeze/thaw/freeze/snow situation only got worse, and the calluses on my feet that I was “this close” to being rid of became more painful due to my feet constantly adapting to the frozen and or soft and lumpy terrain. To quote my wife, “poop.”
As a result, I found myself housebound for a few days to mentally and physically prepare to get back this week.
I started the 2022 Not Dead Yet Comeback Special (now the 2023 Soil The Woods Tour) a little over five months and 540 miles ago, and I have to say, outside of some nagging injuries here and there, the past few weeks have been the hardest.
In the wake of last Monday night’s horrific events in East Lansing, it was nice to have B back under our roof for a few days. It was also nice to let go of some negative emotions and rage by stomping out some miles in the woods.
Sometimes life comes at you fast. One minute you’re hiking along cussing a trail packed with ice that refuses to melt despite the 40˚ daytime temps, and 12 hours later, you get word your kid needs to hunker down in his dorm room with the lights off because there is an active shooter at large on campus.
I knew I would struggle to get 25 miles in my feet last week, but I didn’t foresee it going quite so poorly; melting snow followed by 24 hours of heavy rain, followed by a return to below-freezing temps, had the trails alternating between slippy mashed potato snow and solid ice that crushed and snapped underfoot as I trekked over them with mico spikes strapped on my shoes.
It’s been a nugget hair under 5 months since I traded my increasingly little used soiled chamois and/or The Bed of Torment for a pair of hiking shoes. In that time, I have grown to appreciate hiking (also known as walking if you’re not in the woods) in a way I never did before, and I now find myself in the woods hiking 4 to 5 miles a day, 6 to 7 days a week, with a modest goal of 25 miles per week minimum. Except for snow week curveballs like last week.