There is nothing quite as satisfying as waking up in the morning, coming downstairs, and not seeing one shred of proof that Christmas ever happened.
I sort of, kind of jest, of course. Despite my loathing of the Christmas season and 97.4% of everything it stands for, I had a damn good holiday, and I have to give a big thanks to Wifey and B for making this holiday perfect by just being their easy-going, lovable selves.
2023 was a year filled with some ups and some downs, but as a whole, it was been one of the best years I’ve had in a long while.
I continued my nearly daily lumbers, lost a few pounds, and, most importantly, finally got my depression under better control. Not perfect, but better.
I only wish I felt as confident about 2024 and what America has in store for us. But, all I can do is keep on keeping on, ignore the news and half of the country, and continue to lumber on through the woods with my camera.
In a couple of days, I will be starting the next leg of my life rebuild tour with the 2024 Lumber Through Hell Tour, which starts on January 1st.
#2024LumberThroughHellTour
Until then, I am going to bask in the numbers my 52-year-old feet put up in 2023’s Soil The Woods Tour:
Total Hikes: 260
Todal Days Goofing Off/Not Hiking: 105
Total Distance: 1,294.76 Woodsy miles
Average Distance: 4.98 miles per hike
Average Time: 1:25:28 per hike
Longest Hike: 8.12 miles
And let us not forget that this whole lumbering shit show started back on September 19th, 2022, with the 2022 Not Dead Yet Comeback Special, and those numbers are as follows:
Total Hikes: 346
Total Distance: 1,657.04 Woodsy miles
Average Distance: 4.79 miles per hike
Average Time: 1:23:34 per hike
I remember back when I first crawled out of the Bed of Torment, walked past my bikes, laced up my hikers, and started lumbering away from my brain; I questioned how long I could sustain hiking at pace 20 to now 30 miles a week. Turns out it’s 468 days and counting, which averages out to 3.54 miles per day.
Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty good.
-Larry David
While I am in NO way looking forward to the American political shit show that is coming in the months ahead and the possible end to our democracy as we know it in 2024, I am looking forward to more miles lumbering away from my problems. And people.
Photos are from Saturday’s sunrise hike when the temperatures dropped overnight and left the woods covered in a thick later of frost.
Later.
This is a long one, people. No reason, really; I just found myself wasting time every so often this week and writing down random shit.
6:05 AM on Christmas Morning, and I was up as usual.
No, I wasn’t waiting to gleefully rip through a giant pile of presents (although there was one with my name on that I had my eye on); I was up waiting for the freaking sun to start thinking about rising so I could squeeze in a few miles before we did the version of Christmas Morning you do when it’s just a couple and their 19-year-old son who is now thankfully way more into sleep than opening holiday presents.
Sadly, the sun wouldn’t be fully up until after 8, so that meant I had nothing to do but tend to the dogs, drink coffee, and look at the ever-declining interwebs until I had enough light for woodsy lumbering without a headlamp.
There is no use typing the first bit; it’s always the same: Wake up, tend to the dogs, coffee up, breakie a burrito, dump out, and get lumbering before the unfortunate act of adulting commences.
Oh, Monday, there is no
escaping your misery. – Me
After a pretty good, not bad, OK sort of weekend, I woke up in a funk on Monday. A funk that got increasingly funkier with a dark morning of blowing wet snow.
So as not to be stymied by my normal Monday funkiness, I threw a lackluster breakfast burrito down my throat, took care of business (that means pooping, not real money-making business), and headed out for a 7+ mile lumber through the woods.
This week has been a blur of final fall leaf cleanups, getting the septic tank its quinquennial suck-out, dealing with an unrelated plumbing issue in the basement shitter, and dealing with Lola (the dog), who, after four years, has decided that shitting on the floor of my office is easier than going outside.
This week has been a weather rollercoaster of light snow, rain, and sun with freezing temps one day, spring-like temps the next, and snow amounts varying between our home near town and the trails out in the country before finally melting.
After hitting my weekly 30-mile goal last Friday, I held true to my promise to “not do a damn thing” over the weekend. And by not do a damn thing, I mean no hiking, for there are always more leaves to bag, foods to cook, groceries to get, poop to scoop, dogs to tend to, beers to drink, music to listen to, sexy time to have, and absolute shit International football to watch (Gahdamn, I hate International Breaks!).
After my First World mental meltdown concerning aging, being stupid, mobile phones, frozen Apple I.D. accounts, and realizing that I’m 52 years old, offer nothing to society and get the same in return, I said that I would bounce back like a fat kid through a trampoline. Well, I am happy to report that I bounced back and then some by lumbering over 30 miles in 5 days; to hell with the trampoline-breaking fat kid; this week, I was bouncing back like the glutes of Big Sean’s lady friend!
