This Mud Simply Made

I biked the trail every day I was here, in the Fall, but after the last big snow following Thanksgiving, the trail’s been unbikable.  I went down to try and the wheels wouldn’t catch.  I just spun in futility after a few feet of progress, each time I tried.  And eventually, I walked the bike back up to the yard and took a plodding hike, for a much shorter distance instead. 

There isn’t much snow to speak of anywhere, though our property has a hill to the north-side and the sun doesn’t really ever rise very high nor strike much ground in winter.  The trail that I can see is still covered in snow but the other day when I was down there, I noticed the snow didn’t extend very far beyond our patch and so today, I went down to see if I could cover some ground. 

I’d popped my phone into to my coat’s breast pocket with the man from Bonn’s Piano Sonata Number One sweeping me along, but the path was wet, and it was difficult to get traction today.  ‘The Deaf One” as old Baron de Charlus used to call Ludwig, wasn’t taking my mind off things.  Rather I debated if I’d fallen hopelessly out of shape or if this mud simply made the effort that much more difficult.  Passing the apple orchard not even half the distance I usually do I considered heading back early.  Perhaps with all the extra huffing, I’d actually done enough exercise?

Fortunately, the path becomes especially mesmerizing by this time and I managed to tame the doubting voice in my mind.  Sticking to the tuft of grass in the middle I was able to get a good pace and eventually I made it to Phillies Bridge Road where I always allow myself to turn back.  And a few hundred meters back in, before Forest Glenn Road there’s a deep gulley down to a stream and took a few photos of the somber winter landscape. 

Thursday, 01/02/20