day320: "long hike to nowhere"
The time of day is now 10:48pm and I just slid into bed on legs that still protest my treatment of them with every move I make. I've gutted them. Which is to say; stolen from them any stored up energy and reduced whatever muscle contained within each to what amounts to tenderized meat.
The title of this entry might be somewhat misleading since technically the long hike I'm referring to led me home... but for a while it was touch and go.
I am of course being overly dramatic for affect. However my two and a half hour hike today, give or take, in a very cold, blustery wind, a hike that was over unfamiliar terrain I should add, certainly wasn't for the faint of heart.
I should have known I was going to be in for it today given the rather tumultuous night we had again with Blazer. I think at some point in the wee hours of the morning I simply got up, left the room and face planted in the guest bedroom where I finally slept for a few hours at least.
I then got up and had to race into Berwick to drop him off with my parents who wsre watching him for the day, in order to be back in time for my cousin to pick me up for the hike.
The group was much smaller than the 30+ we had come out last Sunday. I believe we only had nine or ten today. My guess is this had something to do with the weather which has been rather unpleasant the last few days.
I'm sure you recall my Chinese food death run yesterday.
We walked along a dirt mountain road that ran west along the ocean taking us about 3 k down into one of the many "vaults" along the Bay. A vault being a sea level dip in the usual 100 foot cliff that runs the length of the mountain on the north side facing the water.
That's when we split up.
Jamie and the others hiked back from that point, his daughter had forgotten her inhaler which isn't something you want to be without on a hike in blustery conditions, and I decided to walk home.
That decision got more than a few quizzical looks from the party. "That's a long walk," one of them said. But I'm not a man entirely unfamiliar with the exercise and also happen to be rather stubborn in my middle'ish age so it didn't even give me pause.
I figured I could just walk along the water and find my way home, my own "vault" being just three vaults away from where we left each other. The tide was headed out so I figured if I walked along the water I could make it in 45 minutes at worst!
Then I saw an old man out walking his dog and asked him his thoughts on my plans. He felt it... unwise. He told me that such a route wasn't possible and that I wouldn't be able to get to where I wanted to go along the shore. He recommended I take the road. A much longer route.
What am I going to do? NOT listen to the old dude who's probably lived on that mountain for 100 years??? Of course not. So I followed his advice, which was to follow the road, which, sadly, made it a MUCH longer walk indeed.
An hour and a half later I made it home, cold and very tired, with legs that had been fully jellyfied. I made it however, and now have a much greater appreciation for how remote we actually are. This is indeed cottage country.
When I got home I spent the majority of the rest of the afternoon trying to get warm and then spent some Blazeless time with Jeannette once she returned from a grocery run.
Once my mom and dad brought him back we retired down to the basement to watch the Miss Universe pageant. I didn't have the energy for much else I'm afraid.
It was Jeannetttes choice but I figured there would be enough visual entertainment to get me through the auditory aspect of the show itself.
That was... not the case.
That show has the ugly stamp of Donald Trump all over it my friends. From the NFL judges to the Today show hosts it was a multi million dollar excercise in unwatchability.
Seriously, what possible opinion on the class, beauty and culture of a woman does a wide receiver have that would be worth caring about?
Perhaps I'm being overly judgemental myself but it wasn't just the football players. There was also a skateboarder and a real housewife of Beverly Hills among others.
I wouldn't be surprised if Bill Cosby himself was shimmied in there for good measure.
In case the mere mention of the pageant caused you to tense up please relax and calm yourself, the American contestant made it through to the top 15! What a surprise!
I was pulling for her of course, given the fact it's held in Miami and you know, one of Americas top blowhards Donald Trump owns the show, and most of the country I believe; well, what China and Oprah don't own I suppose.
I mean, what a debacle if the NFL wide receiver and reality TV diva failed to pick their own COUNTRYMAN (woman) in front of their home audience!!
Thankfully, tragedy averted.
I will give the show some props. It's managed to stay mainstream for over 60 years. That's right, there has been a miss Universe pageant for 63 years!
Which is even more impressive considering the fact that in 1929 Edwin Hubble discovered that not only was our universe not just the Milky Way, as had been previously believed, but that in fact there were billions of other "galaxies" in the universe. Which means the winner must be a beauty beyond compare AND comprehension.
Or maybe the fact that Hubble found the newly discovered galaxies were also speeding away from each other at faster than light speeds led organizers of the event to conclude that even if there were races of super hot mamas out there in the universe that could potentially give Venezuela a run for her money, the likelihood of them showing up to claim their prize was physically impossible and thus highly unlikely.
Of course the other option is that they don't think much about the actual cosmos they claim to represent at all when it comes to beauty, as evidenced by the pedigree of their judges and the reptilian nature of their owner.
I think I've done enough damage for one day. I now have the kid on me as I thumb the last of this out on my phone. He was tired tonight I think, from all that crying he did earlier.
It's not his fault. I thought Miss Mexico was going to be top 15 too.
Nite Munks. |mp