"I want to see what’s on the other side of the hill–then what’s beyond that." –EMMA ‘GRANDMA’ GATEWOOD, at age 67 first woman to thru-hike the Appalachian Trail (1955), 1887—1973

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

The Trail is Closed for a Reason.


The Saturday night before last brought some particularly strong wind to the Brasstown Valley. By the next morning, several trees reached the end of their life cycle. The combination of saturated soil and high winds is never a good thing for those trees with weaker root systems. When I arrived for a short hike with the dogs on Sunday, I was disappointed to see the sign that plainly stated "Trail is closed due to downed trees and hazardous conditions." Disappointed, we got back in the car and headed to another destination.

Well, last Saturday I again arrived at the trailhead hoping that it would be open, but the sign was still up. I wondered, 'How bad can it be?' and decided to throw caution to the wind and headed down the path with the two dogs leading the way. We didn't get very far when we came upon a downed pine that blocked the trail entirely and forced us to swing very wide through the underbrush before returning to the open path. Taking two 80 lb dogs on leashes, through underbrush is no picnic. They never seem to guess correctly on the path I wish to take.

We staggered our way around a couple more of these road blocks when we came upon a double hurdle. The dogs passed over the first one pretty easily. On the second one, the dogs failed to consider that their master couldn't quite get over the first one with the grace and speed of a four-legged animal.

They lunged over the second one as the very tip of my boot hung on the first one. The combination of their exuberance and my plodding led to a quick belly flop onto the second tree. Unfortunately this tree had some broken branches sticking up like stakes. I managed to fall, very quickly, taking one of these stakes right into my abdomen, then dropped chest first onto the ground. The dogs simply looked back with expressions of, 'why'd we stop?' or 'is it treat time already?'. They aren't the sympathetic type.

I knew that I fell hard, but my vanity always requires that I pop up and dust myself off as quickly as possible. On down the trail we went and finished up our one hour workout hike without another such incident.

It wasn't until I got home that I realized that my stomach was really hurting, and for good reason. The limb/stake actually tore a hole through my fleece and ripped a large hole in my t-shirt underneath. The photo below shows you the damage done to my flesh (sorry for those of you that don't want to see such a doughboy belly).

Luckily, it was a glancing blow that was more blunt-force trauma than flesh ripping puncture. When the sign says Trail Closed, heed the warning and go hike somewhere else.

2 comments:

  1. In our house we call that a BOO-BOO. I'm glad you told us the bottom pic is of your belly, 'cause without that info it's hard to get oriented...More rain tonight, for cryin' out loud!

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  2. Boy, it was a BOO-BOO alright. I'm especially proud of the imprint of my belt buckle (it is often unleashed once I get home, and obviously it was riding high just before that pic)!

    I can't remember a more rain filled year.

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