Since I’m at the age where I see enough balls dropping just by looking in the mirror, I continued my custom of being in bed several hours before midnight on New Year’s Eve.
Before thoughts turned to bedtime on the last day of 2024, I made up some beer-boiled/pan-fried bräts for B and myself and some homemade mac and cheese for Wifey made with high-protein chickpea pasta.
Everyone seemed happy enough, and then we watched a movie before B went out with some friends; Wifey watched bad New Year’s Eve festivities on the couch with Lola, and I went to bed so as to kick off the year with an early morning lumber.
I was in the woods well before sun up and completed my first mile in total darkness with my headlamp blazing.
There is something about hiking (or riding if that’s your jam) in the dark that brings about both fear and awe at the same time. Fear of the unknown, not knowing what lies beyond the light being thrown 15 feet in front of you, and awe of having access to another aspect of nature that most (smarter?) people never partake in.
Unlike sleeping in a dark room at home where the only thing different is the absence of light, darkness in nature brings new sounds, different types of critters, and potentially added dangers if you avert your eyes from the light and trip over roots or rocks you’ve lumbered or ridden over hundreds of times before. Not that I’ve ever done that (rolls eyes).
There is also something sweet about knowing that your time in the darkness is limited. Headlamps will be switched off, and the woods that you stomped through in darkness, save for those 500 lumens in front of you, will soon unveil themselves and bring about a sense of safety and familiarity. It’s like doing the sunrise lap at a 24-hour race back in the early 2000s but with enough mental energy to actually enjoy it, something I rarely had.
Sadly, Ma Nature and Michigan are rarely on the same page during the winter, and while we are greeted with daylight, actual sunlight often remains well hidden under blankets of thick clouds.
It was nice to start the year with a 5.28-mile hike, and I was happy to have not only gone to bed early but to have started as early as I did because as I packed up and stretched out, a variety of unfamiliar cars were starting to trickle into the lot, looking to start their year off the same way I did and intent of making my wooded, 600-acre gym/playground feel a bit smaller and a bit too crowded for my liking.
My Thursday hike would be a near carbon copy of the day before; on the trail before sun up, camera strapped to my pack, frozen trail crunching underfoot, and very little critter action as nature’s nocturnal shift workers gave way to the day shift. But a 5.01 lumber was had, and there’s nothing wrong with that.
Friday, I was a bit later getting to the trails and only needed a light while getting ready and for about the first half mile before turning it off and enjoying the hike over the fresh coating of light snow we received overnight.
I did a newer loop and mixed in some crossover and fire trails to avoid the main trail and chances of human or angry, un-leashed dog interactions, which I am a magnet for. Of course, it was Friday, so that meant another chance to pass the two Chatty Cathy’s, say hello, and have them ignore me. And they did not disappoint.
“Good morning!” I said, making direct eye contact with one of the Cathy’s as we passed in opposite directions. I, of course, was met with nothing as they continued chatting like coked-up chipmunks, to which I replied loudly, “Oh, I’m good, thanks! Have a great day.”
WE LIVE IN A SOCIETY, PEOPLE!!!
I continued on, happy to be outside in the crisp morning air, trying to get some shots to salvage a week filled with very few opportunities.
After being dissed yet again by the Cathy’s, I veered back off the main trail and hit some crossover trails before jumping back on the main loop almost two miles later.
With about a mile to go, the sun (ACTUAL sun) was peeking out from the clouds. Oh, how I missed thee, now warm my cockles, gahdamnit!!
Then, I heard a pileated woodpecker slamming its face into a tree high above. I was right below and in a difficult position, but I hung out for a bit and got a couple shots of the large, feathered, wood-pecking beast.
I continued on, hopeful to actually feel some of that sunlight struggling to shine from behind the clouds. As I lumbered on, I finally saw a couple deer who weren’t put off by the sound of my feet crunching the frozen trail.
There were two, but one was unobstructed by tree cover. Thankfully, the one you see below was very cooperative and let me fire off a few shots, and then when I continued on, they pranced and jumped through the woods and out of site.
It took me nearly all week and two different years, but I finally got a few more critter shots AND saw some sun for the first time in nearly a week. I got 5.15 miles in and finished the week (if I choose) with 25.68 miles in my feetz.
After the shit storm that was 2024, this week was a great way to start off 2025, and The 2025 Ignorance is Bliss Tour.
For what it’s worth, the sun is now gone. We had our couple of hours, sigh.
Later.
THE SOILED SOUNDS TRACK OF THE POST