I’ve taken up walking. I know, I know…walking. I like to walk, I’m fairly skilled unless there’s a hill, it’s windy or the road is uneven. I firmly believe my centre of gravity is between my eyes. I tip over quite easily, in fact, more easily than a cow…or so I’ve been told.
One of my favourite walk/hikes takes place behind a rest area about an hour’s drive from here. I drove there yesterday, a beautiful day, parked my car, got my water bottle and off I headed. I hadn’t hiked this area in more than a year and decided, instead of going the way I usually go, to take the other entrance, where I usually come out at the end. It’s a loop, so it really shouldn’t matter, right?
WRONG!
I started off well, stopping to read the signs about the geography of the area, to read about the Indigenous land and Ktunaxa Creation story. And off I perambulated. It’s a relatively easy hike, fairly flat. The path is wide enough to step off easily if someone is approaching, which I did a few times.
At one point there’s a switchback on the trail, which I completely missed. I would up walking on the Trans Canada Trail for about 1.5 kms. I was going in the WRONG DIRECTION but didn’t figure this out for quite some time. You see, I have a poor sense of direction, but it was a lovely day and I had my water bottle with me. I would stop and take photos, sometimes just stand a breathe, marveling in my surroundings. It was a beautiful day.
I prayed for the survivors of the Nova Scotia massacre and prayed for those who died. I prayed for my dear friends who were burying both their mother and father yesterday. And I walked. And I walked. And I veered off the path I was on, thinking it would get me to where I was supposed to be.
Nope.
Another kilometer out of the way.
But it was a lovely day and I had my water bottle with me. And my ankles were starting to hurt.
You see, I’ve not been walking in long stretches since my surgery. I walk for a kilometer or two, usually around a small lake or paved path. And I was getting very sore.
When I finally pulled out my mobile and took a look at where I was on the map and where I was SUPPOSED to be I started laughing…a bit maniacally. I said a prayer for strength and sanity, did a 180 and started walking back to where I had come off the path. I got back to the path and turned back onto the path, in the direction from which I had come.
While all this was going on I came up a foursome riding their trail bikes. I stepped off the path, we said hello and away I walked. When I was walking back down the trail I saw them again. We nodded hellos again.
I continued walking and eventually got back to the spot where I had gone wrong in the first place. Now keep in mind, I had planned to walk for an hour, perhaps two. At this point I’m 3 hours in and still need to get back to where I started. And my hips are starting to hurt.
Ugh.
I now have a decision to make…am I going to re-trace my steps or am I going to try and finish the original loop. In a moment of abject stupidity I decide to try and finish the loop…only to realise after half an hour of walking that I’m not going in the right direction (again).
As I walk towards the switch-back I see the four cyclists again and we nod and smile again. I’m asked “Are you following us?” and I respond “Yes! I’ll see you at the finish line”.
Ugh.
I get back to where I came off the trail initially and follow it back. Just as I’m getting to the mouth of the trail I see the foursome one last time. We smile and wave as I hobble towards my car.
When I got home I headed straight for the Tylenol. Then I had a shower, put on pajamas and relaxed for the rest of the night.
What had started as an easy 2 hour walk became a 5 hour endurance test. I did it. I survived it and other than being sore, I felt pretty good.
I woke up this morning feeling pretty good. Then I tried to get out of bed.
Kyrie Eleison.
More Tylenol. A quick trip to the grocery store. Cleaned up my kitchen and now I’m going for a nap. After more Tylenol.
Moral of the Story…don’t be a dumbass. Perhaps I should carry a compass. And maybe pack a flare gun for emergencies.
Oh, and I did stop on the way home to get some more water.
Bonnie and I had a weekend away a couple of years ago. We stayed at a bed and breakfast,a huge old mansion with four spacious rooms.It was on top of the Niagara Escarpment,above Grimsby,Ont. It was in one of Bonnie’s favorite areas,wine country.
The first evening,we went for a walk.We were told of a trail which followed along the ridge of a deep ravine and ended with a beautiful view of Grimsby ,Lake Ontario,and off to the north,Toronto.
Bonnie got tired before we got to the scenic lookout and sat down on a bench to wait for me to complete the trail.
It was worth the walk.The view was awesome.When I returned to where I had left Bonnie,she was nowhere to be seen. I retraced our steps back to the mansion.She wasn’t there. I started down the trail again,getting increasingly concerned. I saw some people hiking down in the ravine and asked them to watch for a short body down there.
I returned to the mansion again.By now it was dusk. I called 911 on my cell phone and explained the situation. They prepared to call in the hounds. As I’m pacing back and forth listening for the sirens coming up the steep escarpment road,I see a person slowly walking down the road toward me from the wrong direction.It was Bonnie.
I called 911 and called off the hounds.It turned out that she had tired of waiting for me and started back.She saw a “shortcut” and took it. It brought her out to road (thankfully) a good distance from the mansion.
We slept well that night,after a luxurious bath in a slipper tub.
I hope they fed the hounds well,even if they didn’t get a run through the woods.
Jim Boland