Surviving Mt. Simon

Mt. Simon. Eau Claire, Wisconsin.

This morning, I set out on a beautiful day with one of my dear friends. We've shared many a wild adventure over the last nearly forty years. We often hike and I knew I'd need some real footwear. I usually wear some sandals, but it has been so uncharacteristically long since I've worn proper shoes that I grabbed my common tennis shoes instead of my hiking boots. There was a previous day's rain to consider so things were slippery. Things were pretty wet still and there is gravity to consider as well as my multi-tasking distraction in thinking of how to negotiate the terrain, eyeing the best inspiration for a photo and having ankles which are sort of swashbucklers (I like pirates and want to motivate my ankles to feel worthy) and like to bend at the most inopportune times. Admittedly, I haven't had a proper hike all summer. Probably longer. I was conditioned with muscle memory and strength when I was crawling up rocks, using roots as steps and so forth. As of late, I've been struggling to even get outside with the Canadian wildfire smoke, high pollen and lightning storms which have plagued this small hamlet I call Rustic Vista.

This charming scene was exactly what I love. It held a Lord of the Rings quality which reminded me of the hobbits great escape from the Shire on their way to Bree where the Ringwraiths are bearing down upon them, set on a ridge just over where the small creatures huddled in the deep, dark of the forest off the narrow and ominous path, sheltered by root and tree.

Exquisite, imaginative fantasy and photos awaited!

However, like the threat of evil, so too is the threat of injury. Distraction, a return to inexperience, and the wrong shoes can let loose a tumbling havoc unlike any other when expectation lulls one softly into lending itself to ease and peace. Best intentions or not, as I negotiated a pile of roots over a wide, muddy wet puddle I met swiftly with an unwelcome footfall which sent me tumbling down the side hill of tangled roots. A tree trunk I had the good sense to grab even in the unfolding chaos kept me from "rolling on the river" reminiscent of darling, Proud Mary, while the twisted wood beneath me pummeled me as much as saved me from further momentum.

Amazingly, no fabric was torn - only a light superficial layer of flesh, blood and bruising beneath along with three fairly large bumps swollen almost immediately from impact. I walked away after I caught my breath to find a soft, mossy seat on the other side to contemplate my would-be fate, much to the concern of my friend. It may have looked like I had severely injured my back, but the camera I hadn't taken out of my backpack yet took the burnt. No damage there, thankfully.

Remember, my friends, the wild is a dangerous place even without the creatures who prowl her dense labyrinth.

A woman stands thoughtfully in a lush forest, contemplating the journey ahead as sunlight filters through the dense, verdant canopy above.

Now, we only had to make a plan on how we would traverse this beastly, steep side hill of gnarled threat to return to our vehicles and replace our hiking plans with the safe comfort of retail therapy. The insult to injury after such a terrible trauma didn't wait to reveal itself when we witnessed a young, lovely couple who came down the path a little later. They so very easily made their way through it like a couple of mountain goats. We cursed them and their friendliness, shaking angry fists in their wake - at least by way of snarky comments and insults when they were out of hearing range.