A Good Excuse

Day 343: WARNING: this is not a happy essay. Read at your own risk.

I cannot recall the last time I turned back before reaching a hiking goal. Today I did it not once, but twice. In all honesty, it was probably unreasonable to expect success in reaching my first choice of destination. It involved cross-country travel in steep terrain, and I was only about a third of the way there when I decided I was asking too much from an injured shoulder. By the time I got to my car, I was already considering whether or not to head home to the ice pack which has been a nearly constant companion for the last two months. My stubborn streak chose that moment to exert itself, so I hooked my thumb in the waistbelt of my pack to take the weight off the arm and headed up the closed road on foot. In a mile or so, I came to an obscure, disused trailhead and this sign which, under normal circumstances would not have deterred me in the least, but I was already too hot and in too much pain to continue on more than a quarter mile. The sign suggested an excuse, so not even reaching the ginger patch I'd hoped to visit, let alone the suspension bridge another two miles in, I turned around and came out.

As I have mentioned to Kevin and others, this getting-old thing sucks. Between the pandemic, gas prices and people swarming into the backcountry like ants, I have not taken much exercise this summer, and my legs remind me of the fact every time I ask them to carry me anywhere. But it goes beyond that. The Queen's passing hit me hard. I watched her coronation. I watched her funeral. I am left with the overwhelming feeling that my era is near its close. I've seen a lot of "hazardous conditions" in my time, and I've grown weary of struggling to surmount them. I'm not sure I have the strength to keep putting one foot in front of the other much longer.