Thursday morning, Jake (The Dog) woke me up out of sound sleep just before the alarm with one of his patented Wookie growls that sounds like Chewbacca is being “taken” against his will in the showers of a Death Star prison. This is Jake’s way of telling me that it’s time for me to get my flaccid white man ass downstairs and haul his ass out in the yard to pee. It’s a startling way to awaken, to say the least.
Slippers on, gutchies buttoned up, flashlight between the teeth, and Jake slung over my left arm (the one with rampant tendonitis in the elbow from doing this 4+ times a day, every day), I threw open the back door, stepped out into the darkness, and there they were.
First Flakes: Thursday, November 21st at 6:02 AM
Mark it, dude.
Sure, it was what the weather goofs call a “wintry mix,” and they arrived nearly a month later than usual, but I saw what I saw and felt what I felt as flakes and misty rain descended on me, illuminated by a cheap flashlight with the pungent smell of steaming dog urine in the air.
I would hesitate to say it was anything close to a winter storm, and there is no more in the forecast for the next 10 days, but the first flakes have been seen.
After returning inside to feed the dogs, get some coffee, and actually put pants on, I slacked around until my colon was void of last night’s dinner and then headed out for my morning lumber.
Any signs of snow were rapidly melting, and outside of a few leaves and logs here and there, the woods showed little signs of the wintry mix that fell on me earlier.
As I entered my second mile on the Covered Bridge Trail, I could see a deer making its way out of some brush and onto a grassy part of the trail ahead. The deer was in no hurry, and as I crept closer through a dense section of dark woods, I could see that not only was it a big ol’ buck, but it was the man, the myth, the legend, Mr. Buck Fifty!
The last time I saw him, it was on the complete other side of the park (3 miles via trail, but I’m sure he knows some shortcuts), and just like last time, he was sullen and alone. I sure hope he’s not being shunned by those bitches and does again. You know how they can be.
At about mile 3, bright sunshine appeared, and the leafless trees, once soaked with pre-dawn wet snow and rain, now glistened with drops of water, unsure whether to freeze or melt and drop to earth. It was as if the trees were growing small diamonds, and it was almost blinding at times.
***
Other than the ever present squirrels, Mr. $1.50, and a bird or two, the woods were pretty lifeless. Despite the lack of critter action, it was yet another peaceful tramp through the woods, with only the sounds of my footsteps, breath, and the water dripping from the trees. It was quite the mental enema.
I finished up with 6.37 miles, which gives me just under 19 miles of woodsy lumbering in three days and the option to hit my 25-mile weekly goal during Friday’s hike if I manage to get in another 6 miles.
If I get those six miles in, Friday’s hike will also put me over 1,000 miles lumbered in 2024 with a little over a month to go. It’s not as good as my 2023, but given that I took most of June off due to deck staining, various injuries, and Wifey’s surgery, I’m still pretty happy with it.
Later.