Hikes and Imaginary Bears

Really 300xThis week, I’m going to keep things short and simple, like the 0.7 mile hike I went on “to the lakeshore.” Only it turned out the hike wasn’t short or simple. Somebody moved the decimal place on me. There have been world wars shorter than that hike. The life span of a Galapagos turtle is shorter than that hike.

Now, it could have been simple. Notice the subtle emphasis on “could have been.” The unexpected appearance of large piles of dung complicated matters significantly. Yes, they were footfall hazards, but the true stress came in contemplating their origin. The age old question about where a bear does its business seemed to have fallen at our feet, literally. This revelation is surprisingly anxiety-filled. You haven’t truly considered your humanity until you ponder the prospect of death at mile marker 58 with your feet covered in you-know-what shockingly far from the lakeshore.

As it turns out, we were on the horse trail, which kind of explains the ominous mounds. We have no idea how we got on the horse trail. What I do know is the experience gives new meaning to the phrase “horsing around.” In this context, it was more like horsing all the way around the northern hemisphere in mortal fear of an imaginary bear that does its business in the woods in piles like a horse wearing horseshoes. Davy Crockett, I am not, though I now claim the title of King of the Wild Frontier. Survival has its benefits.

Source: David Swann