The weather people were calling for snow, rain, freezing rain, and high winds today, and they were not wrong. None of that stopped me from going for a lumber, but I was admittedly less than thrilled. Until I got in the woods.
There was an inch or so of wet April snow on the ground when I pulled into the empty parking lot to start my hike, and the clouds were hanging lower than an octogenarian’s tool bag as I set off down the park path toward the trails.
The lack of footprints in the snow was a good indicator that I was alone in the woods, but soon, I realized that while I may have been the only human in the woods, the various tracks through the snow proved that I was very much not alone.
***
About a mile into the hike, it started to snow a little more, and about two miles in, I could tell from the patter against dead leaves that the snow was turning to sleet and freezing rain.
Then, around Mile 3, there was a long rumble of thunder above just before the freezing rain intensified and added in some regular, cold-ass rain just to spice it up. It was at this point that many people may have been looking for the quickest trail back to the trailhead lot, but I could feel a broad smile come over my even broader face as I realized how much I love being out in the woods; even when it’s cold and wet.
I took comfort in that fact, and even as the rain and ice intensified, I thought of nothing else but continuing on my planned lumber. The sting of ice pellets and rain hitting my face was invigorating, and I would occasionally remove my increasingly damp and icy bobble hat, stand along the trail, and just take in the sounds of the woods, the rushing river, and the freezing cold water drops pelting my head. I couldn’t think of a place I would have rather been during those moments.
I will stop short of waxing nostalgic about outdoor endurance sports and the joys of suffering because, let’s face it, I was hardly suffering whilst hiking 5 miles, but I will say that these are the sort of actual experiences that I love and that I live for. I get very little joy from buying stuff, traveling, going to restaurants, being around people, or having “organized fun,” but the chance to be outside “doing stuff” never fails to slap me in the face and remind me of what I love.
Whether on two feet or two wheels, whether in the freezing cold or the stifling heat, and whether on a six-mile lumber, a five-mile trail run, a 100-mile mountain bike race, or a 20-mile ride on a dirt road, there are experiences to be had and things to see. I love that for roughly 30+ years or more, being outside and pushing myself has given me life experiences to share, and photos to document how amazing being out in nature is. Even when those experiences or adventures are pretty crap compared to many others.
There is no worry that my ill-written words will ever be mistaken for Henry David Thoreau or my photographs for those of Ansel Adams, but I have managed to somehow build an extensive collection of thoughts, writings, and photographs from my time doing stuff outdoors. Beyond that, I have had and continue to have actual real-life outdoor experiences that I love rather than relying on some rich social media influencer or YouTuber to tell me what I should do or where I should go.
I worked for 25+ years as a graphic artist and designer, and outside of the work I did for XXC Magazine, I could give a fuck about any of it. I would rather think about the short hike I did in the freezing rain or one of the many mountain bike races I did that had me limping over the finish line, stoked out of my mind to have finished 150th out of 300 racers because no one ever told me I should or could do it. Well, no one but me.
I finished today’s lumber with 5 miles in my feetz, and 15.59 on the week so far. Looking forward to more miles in the coming days.
Later.