Not to beat a spent lingam, but I haven’t been on trails using just my trail runners since sometime in mid-November. Until today.
The temps never went below freezing last night, and there were little signs of snow or ice on the main park path when I arrived this morning, so I decided that I could manage whatever ice there was just fine and left my microspikes in the car.
About a mile into the lumber, I was still confident about my decision, was making the best of it, and got a couple of photos I dug in the misty woods.
As I closed in on mile 3, I headed towards the Covered Bridge Trail loop, and I was still doing OK, with just some minor slips here and there, mostly on muddy leaves.
EATING SHIT
1. The act of dining on fecal matter for joy or sustenance. Usage: “Did you know that Donny enjoys eating shit?”
2. The act of unintentionally falling or crashing while running, hiking, cycling, skiing, or other outdoor activity. Usage: “Did you see Lindsey eat shit on that downhill run?”
I was joyfully lumbering along when a hunk of trail that hasn’t seen the sun since November came up on my left. The trail was solid ice with a layer of standing water on top. However, that stretch of trail is literally less than a quarter of a mile, so I figured, what the fuck, I got this.
A few steps in and I was less than convinced about my choice. With no soft snow or dirt on the side, I thought maybe I should just try sliding my way across the ice.
Three slide steps later, I was eating shit with my left elbow and knee taking the brunt of the fall.
I lay on the ice, with my side soaked with ice water, as I assessed the situation. Knee works fine, and my elbow was numb as fuck for a few minutes until I started bending it and rubbing it.
Yes, I have hiked hundreds of miles on these trails over the winter, and have bitched and moaned about every step I took using snowshoes or spikes, and the time I don’t use them, I eat shit. I will never doubt my instincts again.
Once back on mud and dirt, things started to loosen up, but my mood was shot. I was wet, sore, embarrassed, and pissed off. Especially since I still needed another 2.90 miles to hit my 30 Miles in 5 Days goal.
As I walked along, my elbow throbbed, and my mind tried to formulate a plan. If I go back to the car, I won’t even have 4 miles in my feet. If I continue on, I know there is more ice to navigate.
The blessed muddy dirt helped me get my mojo back, and I walked back to the lot, out the other side, and did a loop of service roads, snow-free trails, and an out-and-back on the main path to the trail and finished with 6.11 miles on the day, a black and blue elbow, and 30.68 miles done in 5.
The irony of possibly hurting myself on what should be/hopefully be, the last icy hike of the year was not lost on me, and I couldn’t help but laugh about it.
Rain and warmer temps are expected over the weekend, so I’m hopeful that come Monday, the ice will be a thing of the past. If not, I still have those spikes in my car and a sore elbow to remind me that I’m a moron who, unlike Donny, does not enjoy eating shit.
Later.