Trail Tales

It reached about 52 degrees at its peak today. It's been sunny most of the day which made it all the better when contrasted with the heavy rains we've been having.

There were a lot of people out enjoying the sunshine. I started from home on the bike and ended up at Ueland Tree Farm, which is one of the places I often go. But given how much of a pain it is to get the bike into and out of the back of the car, it's pleasant enough just to ride there. It then becomes an offshoot of the journey rather than the main point.

There were a ton of dog walkers out at Ueland. One presumably husband-and-wife had a pack of seven dogs. All were friendly. I didn’t meet a single obnoxious dog at Ueland which is kind of nice.

The new knobby tires worked really well in the wet soil. And there was a section that had been freshly graveled (coarse basaltic gravel) and that was an adventure to ride on, even with the knobby tires. But it was a relatively short section and it won't be long until the trucks (it was in the section where there is a working quarry) pack it down flat.

There are no fenders on my bike, nor do I want there to be. The less weight the better. But on a day like this I wore a pretty good bit of mud on my coat and pants. But, all in all, it was nice to get out, especially during monsoon season. 16.04 miles.

Ah yes. The gifts of aging. As my father said, "Getting old is not for the faint of heart." 

There is a type of feeling good that transcends just the physical.  One wakes up and not only does one's body hum along perfectly, there is an awareness of things as well as a mental clarity and happiness which makes one think everything is great and anything is possible. Even when young, this state was not common, but I don't think I have experienced it once since my mid-forties.  Sic transit gloria vita. 

Whenever this feeling came over me, I thought "this is the way a top athlete must feel on the day that he wins the gold medal. Everything working together in peak mode."

The thought was always of the individual athlete performing against others. Not anyone in a team sport. 

I did 15 miles today on the eBike. The weather was passable on the way out. Near the top of the mountain at Ueland Tree Farm, it started to rain. I thought it was just a factor of the elevation. But, no, it was raining at the bottom of the hill too.

But that didn't dampen the spirits of the various hikers I passed on the way. I even ran into an old hiking buddy.

I felt good. My trick left knee behaved itself, my right foot felt fine, my right hip didn't ache, and I don't think I broke any spokes. (I just checked. No I didn't). I had one replaced from last week's ride and that makes the third one since I bought this bike. Cheap Chinese steal? Quite possibly.

This is the only downside of the bike that I've discovered. But repairs are inexpensive ($27.00) and the brake pads last at least three times as long, so that's something.

The big, aggressive knobby tires did well on last week's ride in the leftover snow...about 2 inches of slush the further up you got. This week there wasn't much left. But, still, having those better treads gave me more confidence in riding around it and sometimes through it.

"Long Covid" still bothers me a bit, mainly in the shoulders. And sometimes fatigue comes over me somewhat suddenly, usually around early evening. But I'm getting better. If I didn't know better, I'd swear I simply have some cold-weather form of malaria.

Two-and-a-half weeks ago we had some pretty heavy wind blow through. It left fir branches and twigs all over. The next day I went out and raked the small stuff and picked up the big stuff individually. It was then that I learned for sure that my "Long Covid" is at least not psychosomatic. I surprised myself that I was bending my knees fairly deeply without pain. This was just happening naturally as I picked up the branches.

Contrast that to as late as last September when I went out biking at Green Mounting. For whatever reason, this inability to get anywhere near down to a catcher's crouch doesn't impede normal peddling or walking. But I had to laugh at myself about what happened.

I had just the day before picked up my bike from the bike shop (to replace a spoke). In order to replace a spoke the repair guy obviously has to remove the wheel. And that means unplugging the electrical connection from the motor (on the back wheel hub) to the battery (on the front frame). And it's very easy to plug it in only part way. Twice I've gotten my bike back from the bike shop and found that I had no power when I went to ride.

Well, this day in September was the first time that had happened to me. I reasoned out what must have happened and followed the power line to the connector which sits low on the bike, in front of the derailleur.

So I crouch down to take a look at it, totally lost in thought about fixing it, and I was literally brought to the ground in pain. I had forgotten that I couldn't bend my knees without severe pain. It was actually funny at the time. You'd think I'd be swearing at God and/or Fauci. But I had to laugh because it was as if someone had shot me and I was flat on the ground, collapsing sideways to take the weight off my knees.

I did eventually fix the connection and had a great day of riding. It sounds strange because it is. And that's why it struck me when I was unconsciously bending down (including bending my knees) to pick branches off the ground. I hadn't been able to do anything like this for over 14 months.

I just saw an interview a week or two ago about a hockey player in the NHL who supposedly has "Long Covid." He'd been trying to battle through it but eventually had to take a leave of absence so that he could get better.

"Long Covid" is another mystery that we can keep an eye on. Is it a product of the KFF or the injection ("spike" proteins shed by the human Guinea pigs)? Or is it perhaps something else?

It was a nice day today in the high 70's. It was a non-sweatshirt day on the bike, even on the downhill journey. When going 25 mph at 1000 feet and in the shade, even 70 degrees becomes chilly. Not today.

Late June is the time for salmon berries. The bushes on the trail known for them were a little thin. I don't know if they'd been picked through but I doubt it. I guess like fruit trees, they have good years and bad years. But I had a small feast on them. They grow near damp areas.



There are a few bushes that produce a strawberry-red color. But most are the prototypical salmon-egg color as above. Eating them off the vine is the only way to go because these berries do not keep at all.

That has been my experience. We had a number of dogs when I was a child and we would go outside with them, where they would roam free. This was before leash laws. No matter how far from us they ran, all my father had to do was whistle and they would come running back. 

We did have a cat which disappeared, but we always suspected a neighbor got rid of it as the cat would sometimes walk on his car and leave paw prints. The man made observations about this and didn't like cats to begin with. 

A little refresher course from Wiki notes:



I had thought, offhand, that the Hound of the Baskervilles was a Great Dane. But apparently it is some "mastiff-type breed." Given that the Great Dane itself is supposedly descended from some mix of English Mastiffs and Irish Wolfhounds, we can leave that open to speculation.



That sounds reasonable, for claims that it was a blood hound or corgi (really?) almost certainly come from those who have not read the story. This was a big dog.

Brutus is/was a Great Dane. And because, as you know, dogs are very nose-centric, he may have been carried away and off by the carnival of carnal smells, perhaps including deer. Other possibilities are bear, rabbit, coyote, bobcat, and goodness knows what animals sneak around in the underbrush. Perhaps Brutus could not help himself. Owner loyalty be damned, I'm on the hunt!

I remember coming across a Great Dane or some other very large dog while out hiking a few years ago. The dog was (of course) running ahead of its master. All I saw was a large shape coming toward me out of nowhere and I thought it was a bear for a moment. Lucky that these dogs are not the kind of "man's dog" that the vicious and cruel amongst us sometimes tend toward. Great Danes are good Danes:



And they're not even Danes, of course. They are German (from the English). Maybe he is headed home, but there's an ocean to cross first. Sounds like an old-style Disney film, for hopefully this is not a "transgender" dog looking for "hound reassignment" surgery. In such modern Disney trash, no doubt Brutus longs to be a poodle.

Dogs and horses seem particularly perceptive in regards to who means harm and who does not. I'm reminded of the "dog that didn't bark" in the Silver Blaze story. The man was killed by the horse who sensed that he was up to no good. It's just a story. But I don't doubt that things like that can happen. Horses also kick seemingly for no good reason so who knows?

Of course you meant the one to the left.

Darn lucky those big dogs generally have a sweet nature. But, yes, you can see how valuable they would be for personal protection.