done in by a hike

I’m in relatively good shape. I like to think that I get enough exercise. Yet, on Saturday, I was sure that the hike was going to kill me. We hiked ½ mile to the Jefferson trailhead and then another 5 ½ miles up to this ridge that overlooked Jefferson Park and then another 1 ½ miles down into Jefferson Park. Normally I could hike 7 ½ miles without any problem. However, this time I was hauling a 40-45 lb backpack that another hiker dubbed “the Winnebago.” I didn’t get enough sleep the night before and I wasn’t quite sure what this hike would be like. When I was hiking down from the ridge, my left leg was shaking like it does after 20 minutes of doing stances in chi kung.

On the other hand, Arturo was a fucking jack-rabbit. I don’t know where he gets his endurance but sign me up for a double dose of it! The guy was always about 20 to 50 yards ahead of me and I was the one that had to call for break all the time. He literally cheered me on at one point. When we got down to the park, I could hardly move so he volunteered to run around and find a camp spot for us. All I wanted to do was get off my feet, take the backpack off and sleep. And as soon as we found our spot, we set up the tent and that’s what I did. I felt like I wasted the evening but I was tired, cold and in pain. When nightfall came, Arturo and I laid out under the stars and watched the beginnings of the meteor shower. Arturo was sweet enough to let me use his mummy bag while he laid there in layers of clothes. I used up eight of my falling star wishes on fixing my legs and giving me the strength to get back to the car. Either that or I wanted a helicopter to come down and get me.