Collis P Huntington State Park
4 miles
Sometimes sabbath just doesn't happen. I set aside a few hours, found a park, planned a hike and set out on a beautifully clear day.
By the time I reached the center of the park, it had started raining. Just a little, but enough to make me worry about the camera and cell phone in my pocket. I decided to hurry and take a shortcut trail that would clip off about half a mile and get me back to my car a little sooner.
Too bad my map didn't show topography as well as distances. Turns out the path I chose as a short-cut was a series of incredibly steep hills littered with so many tiny stones that I had to slowly and carefully sidestep down to avoid losing my footing and tumbling.
Somewhere in those hills, the path I was on turned and I didn't. I remember seeing another path cross mine, but since it was not blazed, I continued forward. And then I came to the swamp. Being November, its surface was littered with fresh leaves. I had no idea what I had wandered into. My foot sunk into the mud about six inches about my ankle.
I lost my footing and went forward, catching myself on a log. I managed to pull out my foot, but not my shoe. Foot went back into the muck, shoeless. I dug out my shoe, stumbled to more stable ground and slid the slimy thing back on my cold, wet foot. Then continued my hike.
After a while I came to some signs. They made it clear that I was leaving state land and that there was to be no trespassing, "for any reason." So, I turned back, pulled out my trail map and tried to figure out what had gone wrong. I had wanted that unblazed trail. This time I went around the swamp, I had to go off the trail about a hundred feet, half-climb a tree and shuffle across a stream to do so, but I think the result was better than wading through the muck again.
I found my trail and headed back to my car, texting Josh along the way, telling him that I was ok but cold, wet and unhappy. (I had sent him one in panic before telling him that I had fallen into a swamp and might be a little lost. I think its always a good idea to let someone know exactly where I am going to be and about how long I think it'll take if I plan on hiking alone).
He was sweet. He told me to come to him and when I got there I had dry clothes and hot lunch waiting for me. And in the end it didn't really seem so bad. I did get some nice photos. I did explore a great local park. And I do plan on going back and looking at some of the other trails. I didn't get much poetry out of it immediately, I just wasn't in the right place mentally. Maybe once I can step back from the experience a bit I'll have something to share.
Sometimes sabbath just doesn't happen. I set aside a few hours, found a park, planned a hike and set out on a beautifully clear day.
By the time I reached the center of the park, it had started raining. Just a little, but enough to make me worry about the camera and cell phone in my pocket. I decided to hurry and take a shortcut trail that would clip off about half a mile and get me back to my car a little sooner.Too bad my map didn't show topography as well as distances. Turns out the path I chose as a short-cut was a series of incredibly steep hills littered with so many tiny stones that I had to slowly and carefully sidestep down to avoid losing my footing and tumbling.
Somewhere in those hills, the path I was on turned and I didn't. I remember seeing another path cross mine, but since it was not blazed, I continued forward. And then I came to the swamp. Being November, its surface was littered with fresh leaves. I had no idea what I had wandered into. My foot sunk into the mud about six inches about my ankle.
I lost my footing and went forward, catching myself on a log. I managed to pull out my foot, but not my shoe. Foot went back into the muck, shoeless. I dug out my shoe, stumbled to more stable ground and slid the slimy thing back on my cold, wet foot. Then continued my hike.After a while I came to some signs. They made it clear that I was leaving state land and that there was to be no trespassing, "for any reason." So, I turned back, pulled out my trail map and tried to figure out what had gone wrong. I had wanted that unblazed trail. This time I went around the swamp, I had to go off the trail about a hundred feet, half-climb a tree and shuffle across a stream to do so, but I think the result was better than wading through the muck again.I found my trail and headed back to my car, texting Josh along the way, telling him that I was ok but cold, wet and unhappy. (I had sent him one in panic before telling him that I had fallen into a swamp and might be a little lost. I think its always a good idea to let someone know exactly where I am going to be and about how long I think it'll take if I plan on hiking alone).
He was sweet. He told me to come to him and when I got there I had dry clothes and hot lunch waiting for me. And in the end it didn't really seem so bad. I did get some nice photos. I did explore a great local park. And I do plan on going back and looking at some of the other trails. I didn't get much poetry out of it immediately, I just wasn't in the right place mentally. Maybe once I can step back from the experience a bit I'll have something to share.
