After I finished tending to the last of the leaves on Friday, I showered and headed out for weekend provisions. That would be the last time I left the open borders of the Cul De Sac Shack for 48 hours.
No, I wasn’t depressed and hunkered down in The Bed of Torment or hiding out from the roving gangs of newly deputized MAGA Brownshirts rounding up the Libs, freethinkers, educated, and creatives for the internment camps; I simply had no reason to go out—so I didn’t. And it was pretty darn OK.
Was it the worst best week ever or the best worst week ever? I dunno.
I’m not a fan of being right. Mostly because I’m usually right about bad things. But as William Shakespeare once said, “C’est la vie.” (I really don’t know if he did, but he may have, so just go with it).
I was up and in the woods at 7:30 AM today with 500 lumens strapped to my head, a full 40+ minutes before the sun fully rose.
It’s been a good 15 years since I consistently recreated outdoors in the dark. However, I’m in the Fall stretch of the 2024 Lumber Through Hell Tour, as well as the actual Living Hell that is 2024 America. So, I like to get out for my lumbers, home to run any errands, and back inside before the bulk of rightwing, mid-Michigan rim-lickers start their day of stupidity and fascist idol-worshiping.
I made some idle threats to run on the treadmill over the weekend but opted for voting, watching footy, beers, sexy time, food making, and slack. Not all activities were done at the same time, but some were done concurrently.
Come Monday, I was back in the woods to start another week of lumbering. Now it’s Wednesday, I have 15+ miles in my feetz, and I should hit 110 miles for the month after tomorrow’s effort. Not a bad month for lumbering. I wish I could say as much for the state of my brain, but I’ll take what I can get.
It’s been over two weeks since I wrote my last post, and the world is still spinning, so I can confirm that my near-daily blatherings and crap photos of my old guy micro-adventures are not what keeps it doing so.
I knew going into 2024 that it would be the worst, and it hasn’t disappointed me in the least. That is why I nicknamed my near-daily hikes The 2024 Lumber Through Hell Tour.
Early Sunday morning, I drove in complete darkness towards the trails, wondering what the hell would make me do such a thing.
Then I remembered; I’m an idiot.
I fully admit my posts have taken on an opinionated, dark tone lately. This is not the person I’ve been working hard for the past few years to become, and I’m committed to trying to get back to my normal goofball shenanigans where for no good reason, I write about crap outdoor fitness activities done by a 53-year-old moron, and other stupid shit that nobody but me cares about.
— Management
I needed to get 4.75 miles in over the weekend to meet my 25-mile goal, and I am sorry to report that it didn’t happen.
