One day last week I took the Hounds out to Columbia Point on one of the balmy Spring days we've been enjoying (sunny and in the 60s for days and days, which tends to annoy my rained-upon and occasionally hailed-upon friends in the Puget Sound region).
Our usual route has not varied -- here is a map of Columbia Point, which is a natural area given over to sagebrush, short twisted trees, and some random large rocks. It juts out into the Columbia River in a triangular sort of wedge, thusly:
Well, on this particular outing, I decided to Explore. There's another path that runs parallel to our usual one -- the BLUE LINE. The Hounds and I took it instead, and suddenly it veered, and it occurred to me that it was veering towards the lovely viewpoint area. Why, if it wound up there, we could make a loop walk, coming back along the shore. From the start of the Veer, I could not tell if the path really went where I wished it to go, but what the hey -- it was warm and pleasant and I was feeling Bold and Intrepid, so off we strode into the unknown.
I had reached the point of no return when my back began to feel sore. Joy. But I trudged boldly onward, and was soon rewarded by a glimpse of the viewpoint in question.
I was best pleased. Now I had a much more interesting walk to add to my list of Interesting Walks, for a loop trail is far more enjoyable than a straight out/straight back one, don't you agree?
Perhaps my success with the Unknown Trail That Veered made me over-confident in my ability to Explore, for then I made a bit of a tactical error. You see, the return route, the loop part that swept around the point, was a familiar trail atop a short hill. But I could see there was another, unfamiliar trail down below, one that surely must parallel the shore and return us to the Point of Columbia Point, yes?
Perhaps I could find a way to scramble down there.
Well, I did find a way, and the views of the water were ever so much closer then, and I felt ever so rewarded for my boldness, although my back was still sore, which put a slight damper on things.
The dogs enjoyed a refreshing dip in the river.
We strolled along a dirt and grass path for a ways -- to the point of no return -- and it was then that my tactical error made itself evident. For the path suddenly changed to one of rocks. Big rocks, little rocks, lots and lots of rocks and nothing but rocks.
The Hounds and I were exhausted by stumbling over rocks for some fifteen minutes, during which I had plenty of time to castigate myself for being so intrepid. What had I been thinking? Sheesh.
When we reached the Point, we sat and rested, and I had a nice little think about how much easier it is to be bold and go exploring when one is about forty years younger than I am now.
However, as I got up and began heading back along our shoreline path, it suddenly dawned upon me that my back felt completely fine. It had been sore most of the way, but after a quarter hour of an up and down, uneven walk over river rocks, the pain was completely gone. There must be some sort of physiological explanation for this, but I haven't bothered to investigate.
I ceased chastising myself, and felt ever so chuffed that my misguided desire to scramble down hillsides to deceptively pleasant looking riverside paths had ended with a miracle cure. So there. Hah.
Otherwise, not much happened last week. I drew stuff that was not birds. For instance, I drew this cactus during one of our zoom practice sessions:
That's it for exciting times in the Tri-Cities.
May your days be just as fun and exploratory, without the back pain, or at least, with mysterious back pain cures.
Your story of the walk was hilarious and just what was needed on a Monday morning. LOL
ReplyDeleteIt was, of course, much more amusing *after* the fact!
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