Meador Manor

June 16, 2012

Altitude Sickness

My comfortable room at the Grand Lodge could not lure me to sleep. I have suffered from insomnia since childhood, but I could tell something more than that was at work. Had my constant guzzling of fluids over the past few days failed to prevent altitude sickness? In the wee hours I gulped some more water and I did finally drift off to fitful dreams, only to awaken at 7:00 a.m. with a brain-busting headache. The last time I had a headache like that was when I hiked at Wolf Creek Pass last July. That time I’d driven up from Pagosa Springs at 7,105 feet to the 11,780 foot Alberta Peak for a day hike. This time I’d driven from Pueblo at 4,692 feet to hike at the Black Canyon at 8,000 feet and then driven up to Mount Crested Butte to sleep at over 9,500 feet.

About 20 percent of the population is susceptible to altitude sickness, usually triggered by elevations above 8,000 feet, and my symptoms matched its milder profile: headache, nausea, fatigue, loss of appetite, and sleeplessness. I didn’t ask my doctor for acetazolamide to help with it before I left Bartlesville, so that wasn’t an option. The fast cure is to drop altitude. I needed to heed the old adage of “Hike high, sleep low” and get off the mountain.

So I packed up, cancelled my reservation for the next two nights and checked out of the hotel. I pulled over briefly to snap a few shots of what I’m now calling Crested Brute. I was sad to be leaving the big mountains, but I would attempt a return later in the week, hoping that by then I might have acclimated better. Neither of my parents had altitude sickness when they visited Crested Brute, but I’m just special.

I headed back down to Gunnison at 7,700 feet, happy to see the big W of Western State University, which I took for Welcome this miserable morning, although from the photo you might wonder if it stands for Wal-Mart. My skull felt like it would burst. I forced myself to eat a tiny breakfast at the McDonald’s and took some ibuprofen. My symptoms began to ease after an hour and I reserved a room at the Quality Inn in Gunnison for the next four nights since I wouldn’t be staying with the Hendersons overnight at Taylor Lake either: it has a similar elevation to Mount Crested Butte.

The advice after a bout of this condition is to take it easy for awhile. My method of taking it easy was to go hike 8.25 miles with cumulative vertical elevation changes of over 1,600 feet. It takes all types!

Hartman Rocks

I really did want to hike but I knew I needed to stay around 8,000 feet and be on trails well stocked with people. So I drove over to Hartman Rocks by the Gunnison Airport. This is an 8,000 acre recreation area with over 20 trails, serving hikers, mountain bikers, 4-wheelers, skiers, you name it. It is recommended as a warm-up area to hike to acclimate to the elevation – that’s the ticket!

It is named for a pioneer family and the area did look fascinating as I drove up to the main entrance, or “base area” – a skiing term, I believe. There was a big sign providing details on the area along with a map dispenser. That map would come in handy, even though it only concentrates on the motors-allowed trails. It turned out that my iPhone’s MotionX GPS App also had many of the trails on its terrain map, which helped me navigate in this immense area criss-crossed by trails of various types.

I peered into the camera for some reason at this point – I still had a bad headache, so I’m not sure what my intention was, but it does record my bad habit of ducking down my head to peer over my glasses rather than elevating it to try and peer through my progressive bifocals. If only big lenses from the 1980s were back in fashion, I’d probably do better at this!

Conquering the Main Ridge

Several people were mounting mountain bikes and heading out. An SUV was driving up a steep road which I later found out goes behind the main formation and is popular with rock climbers as well as bikers looking to start up high. I hiked up to the first landing, still below the higher part of the ridge, pausing to rest and drink at a picnic table.

My headache was finally gone and I decided I was good to go on up. I took a video of a mountain biker riding the Collarbone trail while his friend also shot a video of his ride and provided encouragement. I’d walk that trail myself at the end of the day, and those curves were far too steep to walk on; I had to run along some and find flatter side trails for others. I’d never ride a bike on them, but then again, I never even learned how to ride a bike until I was about to finish elementary school!

Speaking of encouragement, a bevy of scantily clad jail bait were running up the hill ahead of me. I’d managed to pick a very steep trail while the ladies were crisscrossing ever higher, putting me to shame. My route got even worse, but at least the steepest section had solid rock for my boots to grip, rather than loose sand and gravel.

Rising another level, I rested again and drank some more, with a cute cottontail keeping a wary watch on me, ready to leap to my assistance…oh, scratch that…ready to leap away if I moved a muscle. I was getting fairly high up, with interesting rock formations scattered about. But the final ridge remained. I shot a 360-degree panorama to record my progress, and posed by a trail sign, delighted that my altitude sickness was gone.

I looked down at some rare trees for this area and could spot Princess in the distant parking lot. The sun was peeking out to make interesting shadows on the convoluted rock formations and different shadings, while a chipmunk took over for the rabbit in monitoring my progress, backed up by N948CA of the Civil Air Patrol overhead. The 20x zoom on my Canon Powershot SX 260 makes me feel like Steve Austin sometimes. I wish it would make the bionic eye sound when it zooms in!

The rocks were now riddled with thin quartz strips and from the top I saw more long ribbons of volcanic intrusions in the granite. I was finally leaving the 160-acre Base Area jointly owned by the City and County of Gunnison and entering the thousands of acres owned by the federal Bureau of Land Management.

The Geocache

I passed a large dead tree and ahead saw an oasis: trees with a bench and a fire ring, although the entire state is under a fire ban right now. One tree had a large hole and I peeked in, discovering a geocache.

I was thrilled by my accidental discovery, although my pleasure was reduced when I realized this area up top is easily accessed from the road system. You can take that steep road I saw earlier and drive right up here for an easy climb to the top of the ridge, something rock climbers do to reach their spots.

Big Brown Lands

The view westward was of rolling brown desert punctuated by protruding rock formations. I left the geocache area by the “V-Drop” trail, reaching an area crisscrossed by vehicle roads. On the eastern side of the ridge a turkey vulture was riding the thermals.

A nearby ridge of stone resembled a prone rock creature, at least to my altitude-addled brain. There were larger veins of milky quartz along here, with large chunks popped out across the ground. Someone had placed a few choice specimens in granite hollows. There were a variety of colors available, and someone had made a stone curbing for a part of this trail.

Some of the shapes and forms of the granite in this area, sans the intrusions, reminded me of the Wichita Mountains back in Oklahoma, while some of its color and mineral distribution reminded me of the pink granite of Oklahoma’s Ten Acre Rock. Interestingly, Ten Acre Rock was mined for pink granite for Oklahoma’s capitol building and Aberdeen Quarry here at Hartman Rocks was mined for Colorado’s capitol.

Rock Climber

I heard voices and trooped over to a large stone face to find a piton and ropes. I clambered up a ledge and watched a young lady who was working her way up a rock face with guidance and encouragement from below.

Nearby were some large stone sentinels, and I posed to give them scale, showing that one standing stone puts even Stonehenge’s massive ones to shame. A blue bird flew past and posed in a tree with a snack in its beak. I came across the rock climbers’ vehicle, adorned with a 686 clothing decal. (I had to look that up, since jock clothing is not my forté.)

Outcrops

I stopped up top at one outcropping for a snack break, my lunch for the day consisting of a large PayDay bar. But I would make up for it with a huge dinner later on. The view west showed a rolling brown landscape with occasional protrusions of stone.

Another outcropping looked like a home out of the Flintstones and another like a stone sandwich. A tree popped out of another, bent but not broken. I saw tilted planes of stone looking like part of a loaf of bread…that would be hard bread indeed. Two more dead trees looked to me something like a natural version of something Roxy Paine would do.

Trail Guides

I followed the road for awhile, heading back toward the Base Area. The managers have done a nice job of marking trails off for various uses, and periodically close some trails for reseeding and repair. Barriers help delineate trails not meant for motorized vehicles or in a few cases for anything with wheels.

I followed one such trail over the ridge and back into the mountain biking area, with a friendly biker passing by. I caught us exchanging hellos on video. My map showed another hiker-only trail on the north edge of the area, and I trooped over to try “The Ridge“. A gap in the rocks gave a lovely northeast view of a farm down below and purple mountain majesties beyond.

The Ridge

Wow – this was by far the best hike I found in the park. The Ridge trail slowly worked its way up to the north rim of the uplift, with more interesting rock formations, including a huge cleaved boulder which I posed by for some scale. I heard a jet and used my bionic vision on it, then used it again on a blue bird which flew past me and alighted on a tortured tree. Another tree silhouetted against the sky was framed by clouds.

Then I reached the north rim and saw a tremendous panorama. Tomichi Creek flowed below through its floodplain. I walked to where I could site along the rim and show you the difference in vegetation between the Tomichi Creek floodplain on the north and the high desert on the south. I shot a video for a 360 degree panorama of the view, zooming in on a golf course down below.

The view westward of the Gunnison River valley showed the same dramatic effect, and from the high point on the ridge I could see the shorter back side of the Base Area ridge.

I couldn’t resist posing up on a pinnacle, showing that while I may suffer from altitude sickness I’m not afraid of precipitous perches. I think Christ the Redeemer up on Corcovado Mountain in Rio may very well be holding his arms out to help balance, now that I think of it!

Walking the Bike Trails

The Ridge Trail then turned back southeast with a series of switchbacks and curves designed for mountain biking fun. I could only maintain my footing through them by running instead of walking. I posed beside another huge boulder.

Golf Course Trail

From up high I had seen trees lining a dry creekbed. This turned out to the trail leading around and down to the golf course. I took it, adding an extra mile to my hike. I was rewarded with a very different trail than all of the previous ones. The doubletrack trail is used by people and horses and sported butterflies and aspens, which I always love, and a small grove of tall trees.

I reached the end, passing through an old fence which had buckled in interesting ways. A new barbed wire fence enclosed the entire area, however. A trail leading along the base of the ridge was closed off, and I had to laugh at the repetitive NO iconography on the trail sign. The golf course was also fenced off; evidently they tried letting people walk from Hartman Rocks along the paths in the golf course, but people strayed across the greens and fairways and that led to it being blocked off.

Bike Trails Wrap It Up

I spotted a hiker sporting what from a distance appeared to be a huge backpack. Was he in training? But then I realized it was some large partially zipped pad…oh, that’s a crash pad used by rock climbers. I’m learning.

I decided to return to the parking lot along the Collarbone Alley Bike Trail. As I mentioned earlier, the sweeping curves were quite a challenge.

Whirlpool Tubbin’

I’d hiked a total of 8.25 miles and was rather weary. I checked into my new hotel room and was delighted to find a bathtub with whirlpool jets…I’d forgotten I’d picked that when making the reservation. The warm jets took my cares away and then I dressed for a tasty big dinner at Viva Mexico. I’d survived the altitude and was ready to take on pinnacles and needles the following day.

Click here for a slideshow from this day hike

Junebug Day 4: Pinnacles and Needles >

< Junebug Day 2: Black Canyon of the Gunnison

June 15, 2012

This post arrives late both because of logistical problems on day 2 of Operation Junebug as well as some health issues on day 3 which I’ll discuss in my third post, which will also be delayed.

Day 2 began in Pueblo, Colorado with a traditional hot breakfast at the Clarion Inn, which also sported incredibly fast WiFi. The only downside to my room was a very loud wall air conditioner that cycled on and off all night. I was itching to get over to the Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park for the views of that deep chasm, but first I had some repair work to do.

Windshield Repair

A stone hit my windshield just as I arrived in Pueblo the evening before and created a star crack. I knew I had to fix this right away, since dirt in the crack will affect the transparency and permanence of the repair. So I lost almost two hours total buying a repair kit and razor blade at the nearby Wal-Mart and borrowing a couple of spots in their parking lot, one in shade and another in full sun, filling in the star crack as best I could with resin. I’ve done this before on the same windshield with adequate, if imperfect, results. The key is being able to get the glue into the crack.

You have to find a shady spot, clean out the crack with a thumbtack, then apply an adhesive ring and nozzle. You squirt in the glue, then use a syringe to apply downward pressure for 10 minutes. Then you reverse and apply a vacuum to it for 20 minutes. Then you remove the nozzle assembly, apply a spot of glue to the remaining pit and smooth a plastic curing sheet over it and let it dry in the sun for 15 minutes. My shady spot on the far side of the building turned out to be an unmarked bus stop as well, so a lady watched me for quite awhile as I worked. She never said a word…don’t bother the mechanic.

I couldn’t get glue into every arm of the star and didn’t get the central pit entirely filled, but it certainly looks better than it did last night and is far less distracting when I’m driving. By the time I was finished it was almost 10:30 a.m., so I headed west on highway 50 toward Cañon City.

Cañon City

TripAdvisor recommended I satisfy my desire for pizza at Pizza Madness downtown. The interior had a big wall mural and I enjoyed some delicious cheese bread and a mushroom and sausage pizza. I picked whole wheat crust as my only sop to healthier eating.

I passed a few old buildings downtown, including the Gothic Revival style Raynolds Bank, built in 1882 from stone quarried at the penitentiary. Colorado’s Territorial Prison opened in Cañon City in 1871 and is now a medium-security facility with the state pen next door with all of its inmates in solitary. My father remembers his parents taking him to see the old prison back in the 1930s. An early form of scared straight? If so, it did wonders since Dad is such a sweetheart. 🙂

Along the Arkansas and Across the Continental Divide

I headed west past Royal Gorge, which I saw with my father two decades ago back when its bridge was still the highest in the world. Cañon City built it in 1929 as a tourist attraction and now charges $26 to cross it and enjoy a variety of rides and other attractions. Having already seen the gorge and bridge, I saved $26, more than paying for the windshield repair, and headed on west.

This stretch of highway 50 parallels the Arkansas River, with the river straddled by the highway and a railroad track. The winding route is very scenic but you have to really watch the road and your speed.

The road finally reached a broad plain with the Spanish Peaks of the Sangre de Cristo mountain range heaving upward to the south. The bridge at Cotopaxi had a scenic backdrop and soon I was crossing the Continental Divide at Monarch Pass. Then came the steep descent into the high desert country on the western side.

Crossing the divide meant leaving the Arkansas behind. The highway eventually found it could follow Tomichi Creek to the city of Gunnison. The Western State College of Colorado is there, although it is nestled on the east side of town. The city is easy to navigate with nice wide streets, but I did not linger as I wanted to visit the Black Canyon of the Gunnison before this day was out.

Blue Mesa Reservoir

The Gunnison River joins highway 50 at Gunnison and they track westward together. The Gunnison River is very steep but today its power is thwarted by the Blue Mesa Dam, built in the 1960s for hydroelectric power to form the largest lake in Colorado at 20 miles long and a surface area of over 9,000 acres. Well, that was before the drought.

The prolonged drought in the west has brought the lake down almost 40 feet from its full level and it is currently below 70% of its active capacity. Some islands are now accessible by car. The low level was evident at Wilson’s Landing on the east end of the immense 43,000 acre Curecanti National Recreation Area, which encompasses Blue Mesa along with the Morrow Point and Crystal reservoirs.

The surrounding area has mesas and mountains. I was particularly struck by the Dillon Pinnacles, near the second crossing of highway 50 over Blue Mesa Lake, where erosion has exposed the 30 million year old West Elk Brecchia of solidified volcanic ash and mud. I planned to take a closer look at them another day, having noticed a trailhead at the bridge.

The Black Canyon of the Gunnison

The Gunnison River joins both highway 50 and Tomichi Creek just west of Gunnison and they track westward together. The Gunnison River is very steep and although today its power is thwarted by the Blue Mesa Dam, it used to reach 12,000 cubic feet per second at flood stage on downstream. That gave it the power to cut down as far as 2,722 feet through hard Precambrian gneiss and schist, forming a very deep and narrow canyon in a large uplift area. Sunlight struggles to peer down into this crevice, hence its name.

The multiple stupendous vistas at the Black Canyon led me to shoot one panorama after another, along with several videos, further slowing my editing for this post on my tiny MacBook Air. What a help this little computer has been, even with its limited processing power.

I pulled into the park and paid $15 for my vehicle. It’s a seven-day pass, so I could return later in the week if I wish to. I followed the South Rim road; the north rim road is gravel and the ticket lady said it was a 90 mile trip by car from the park entrance. Since it was already 4:00 p.m., I’d better stick to the south, eh?

Tomichi Point

Right off the bat was a stunning view at Tomichi Point. I keep seeing Tomichi Creek and now there’s a Tomichi point? Who was or were the Tomichi? Well, it’s a Ute indian word and various sources claim it means “hot water” or “mountain stream” or “dome-shaped rock” and even “good wintering ground.” The last one seems unlikely, given the severe winters around here! For such a common word hereabouts, it is interesting that there is no clear translation.

Anyhow, the view was to the southeast. A couple of miles downstream is a 6-mile long tunnel dug in the early 1900s to provide irrigation water from the high Gunnison, running in its deep mesa canyon, to the low farmlands to the southwest near the town of Montrose. It was the longest irrigation tunnel in the world when it was constructed and is still in use.

Pulpit Rock

The next stop was Pulpit Rock, since I chose to skip the Visitor Center at Gunnison Point. I found a cycle couple out on the immense stone pulpit, enjoying the view and reading the signs. I asked if they wanted a photo and they were delighted to be snapped together out on the rock and did the same favor for me, so I can now see myself preaching to the stones.

The view from on top of the pulpit was inspiring. I shot a panorama, of course. You can see how the north rim, to the left in the panorama, has far steeper walls than the south rim.

Cross Fissures

Most people were skipping the next stop, but I walked over to where the canyon rim projected outward in a fin with a viewpoint on either side. Projecting vertical fins of rock plummeted downward vertiginously toward the hidden river below, providing another spectacular panorama. One view was of a strip of rock descending along the cliff face along another creek fissure. And across my own projecting fin was another viewpoint of how the next fin projecting out into the canyon was broken, creating an island peak.

The Chasm: The Narrows of the Gunnison

I skipped the next two viewpoints for one of the most dramatic, with a great view of The Narrows, the shallowest section of the canyon and only a quarter-mile across from rim to rim. Notice the immense rockfall coming down from a side fissure. I shot a video zooming in to the tumbling water and multiple waterfalls on the river below and then following the river tumbling its way through The Narrows before zooming back to the full view from the Chasm View. Needless to say, shallowest is a relative term!

The Painted Wall

I skipped two more viewpoints to reach the Painted Wall. This is the highest cliff in Colorado, jutting 2300 feet above the river. The Empire State Building would reach slightly more than halfway up this enormous edifice. It has bands of color shooting through the rock, created by molten rock squeezing into fractures and joints in the existing rock and then cooling in place. The bands are more visible in a video I shot than in the still.

Sunset View

The penultimate viewpoint is from a projecting fin looking northwest along the river. The web shows that it looks fantastic when the sun is streaming in, but we were still a few hours from sunset and the sky directly overhead was overcast. But I liked the view anyway, with the narrow band of water rippling off into the distance. At full zoom I could capture the rays of the afternoon sun reflecting off the most distant canyon walls. A video helps provide a sense of scale.

Warner Trail

The park saves the best for the last. The final stop on the south rim road requires that you park and walk northwest 0.8 miles along a ridge for tremendous views of both the farmlands below as well as the Black Canyon at its deepest point. I’d walked hundreds of yards back and forth from viewpoints to the road, but this was finally a real, if short, hike.

Mark T. Warner was the pastor at Montrose Presbyterian and led the effort starting in the late 1920s to have Black Canyon made part of the national park system. Warner was born and raised in Ohio and came to western Colorado in 1917, so perhaps his background made him especially aware of the canyon’s unique character. President Hoover named it as a National Monument in 1933 and 66 years late President Clinton would expand its boundaries and redesignate it as a National Park.

The view southwest had layers of forest, fields, desert, and distant snow-capped mountains, which were a backdrop for a self-portrait. I was struck by the contrast between the pastoral scene below the edge of the ridge compared to the non-irrigated desert areas. No wonder the farmers around Montrose were desperate enough to have that 6-mile tunnel drilled. But even the desert area was being harvested, but not for crops.

On the other side of the ridge was a cutout view of the north rim of the Black Canyon, with its terrifyingly steep walls. A large tree had broken and died beside the trail, its upper branches pointing toward the end of the trail.

Warner Point

That end came as a bluff crisscrossed by trails made by eager viewers. The view upstream was evident and rewarding, and I posed again, also shooting a video of the panorama. The view downstream presented the canyon true to form: looking pretty black. The view southwest from Warner Point had the jutting walls and pillowed desert leading to flat fields in the distance near Montrose.

I took a shot of a British couple for them when they arrived at the point and then vacated so they could enjoy the vista undisturbed. The trail led back up along the forested ridge, buttressed against erosion in some of its steeper sections. There were a few clumps of flowers along the way, and I paused to shoot a dead tree here on the south rim against the backdrop of the steep north rim.

Back to Gunnison

The trail led downward to my waiting car, ready to race eastward back to Gunnison for dinner. The huge W on the mountainside, for Western State College, signalled arrival. I had an excellent steak at the Ol’ Miner Steakhouse downtown. I’ve passed up its partner at Pagosa Springs on two previous trips, but if the one there offers food like this, that will change.

Up to Crested Butte

The sun was setting as I headed north from Gunnison, steadily ascending from its 7,700 foot elevation to over 9,500 feet at Mount Crested Butte. The imposing silhouette of the mountain in the twilight was a bit foreboding, and in fact there was trouble to come.

But I arrived safely at the Grand Lodge and checked in with a very pleasant and helpful night clerk. My room was oddly shaped, with a bay window merging into a window wall with angled panes, but it had a castle tower-like ambience. They already had the television on, playing some soft symphonic music from a music channel and the room was already lit. A table with a lamp was situated in the bay window, and if you look at the far left of the second floor in the exterior photo, you’ll see that lamp silhouetted against the room light. No air conditioning was needed; they’d already cracked one window just a hair and had the ceiling fan softly purring since it was already in the 40s outside. Pretty classy!

Foreshadowing

I settled in and began creating this post and editing photos, but I was exhausted and stopped before I had reached the Black Canyon. My nose had begun dripping, I was coughing up some phlegm, and felt a bit woozy. No, it wasn’t a virus or a bacteria, but I was indeed coming down with something…altitude sickness, despite my precaution of drinking lots of fluids throughout my trip. More on that in the next post – whenever I get it done!

Click here for a slideshow from this day of my trip

Junebug Day 3: Hartman Rocks >

< Junebug Day 1: The Rim of the Volcano

June 2, 2012

The second Saturday of my summer break sustained cooler weather which attracted me back to Osage Hills State Park for a long walk. I turned in at the bike trails area, surprised to see ribbons and signs for “Tour de Dirt” but no vehicles. Evidently some sort of biking event had occurred or was forthcoming, but was not yet in full swing.

I set off down the red loop and a snake, which had been sunning itself in the creek, darted away as I approached. I found that the event organizers had put up tape to direct bikers around the red loop. Recent rains had left a few tiny pools on the creek beds I needed to ford and I passed the large conglomeration I call Turtle Rock. Higher up the hill the creek bed had more pools.

Suddenly several mountain bikers looped past me. I’d see far more bikers on this day in the park than ever before, each of them unfailingly polite in letting me know they were coming and thanking me for clearing out of their way. It turns out the actual racing portion of Tour de Dirt would be the next day, Sunday, so I suppose they were familiarizing themselves with the course.

The few flowers I saw were mostly wild petunias. I reached the Osage Trail and decided to head south a ways towards Camp McClintock, wondering if the park boundary was still unmarked. A few hundred feet from the trail intersection I spied a new sign demarcating the boundary and forbidding any but Boy Scouts from proceeding. I like the Scout slogan of Do a good turn daily, but I’m certainly no Boy Scout. So I dutifully turned around and returned to the red loop, discovering that the race organizers had installed a new ramp on the most treacherous portion of the trail.

Not surprisingly there were more pools near The Grotto, although the falls were not running. The trail led onward and I found that the race course diverted to follow part of the blue loop. I trekked onward to the creek and crossed the prairie, noting that the “social trail” shortcut to the tower trail was part of the racecourse. It was beginning to dawn on me that several of the odd trails I’ve noted at the park, sometimes providing shortcuts and other times paralleling the hiking trails, are all part of a mountain bike racecourse used for this event. Just when you think you know everything about a park’s trail system, you learn something new.

I walked to the park office area and bought a Coke by the restroom, then followed the trails to the picnic area which was filled with vehicles of the mountain bikers. I paused to swing for a bit in the unoccupied playground and then walked by the pool, which was helping cool off some of the more portly park guests. I walked down to the Sand Creek waterfalls, where an odd splash caught my eye. My waterproof boots allowed me to walk out into the stream to find the rocks responsible for it. The rope swing over Sand Creek awaited users.

I walked over to the cliffs, finding people jumping off from there for the first time in my many visits. Mountain bikers are risk takers, after all. I left them alone and walked up and over the hill to Lookout Lake, where a family was struggling with the oars in one boat while behind them Three Men in a Boat fared little better. I tried not to laugh out loud at their struggles, glad to see one fellow give up on rowing and opt to fish.

I wrapped up my walk, having hiked 7.8 miles in about four hours. By the time I was finished, it had warmed up considerably and I was more than ready to head home and shower off the layers of sunscreen, insect repellent, and sweat which I’d built up.

Here’s a video from my afternoon walk:

Click here for a slideshow from this day hike