Back to the Trails

I’ve been delighted with the early spring; honestly, unless you plow snow or live to ski, who wouldn’t have liked the winter just past. Technically spring begins in just a few hours, early tomorrow. Since writing those first sentences I have gotten in the car and driven up to Roy Swamp, a few miles away. I needed to determine if I was not hearing any spring peepers here, at the house, because there aren’t any chorusing yet–or if in the past year my hearing has gotten so bad I just can’t hear them. Well, at Roy Swamp, the peepers are singing away. Not as shrill as I have heard in the past, but that must be my lack of hearing the high ranges. Back home–not a sound. Are my local peepers late this year? Or are they just gone? Amphibians are suffering from toxic run-off; I’ll listen for the nest few days/weeks and try to determine if they still are my neighbors or not.

I’ve got a training hike I am now taking again. Up from the parking along the road, through the crevice in the rocks, to a lookout point. Then turn around, back down. Up is easier for my aching joints but harder on the lungs; down makes my hips cry for mercy. I will keep at it, though, because being out on the Appalachian Trail gives me a giddy kind of pleasure, like I could just keep going, forever. white blaze after white blaze, and what a mighty fine trip that would be. I’m going to steer this blog more towards the attempts of an almost 70 year old lady to get into shape, into being fit for hiking. Will she be able to sleep on the ground? ┬áStay tuned and find out.

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