When the Trail-A-Thon began, who knew?
Although OKM is staying closer to home, I am still attempting the potentially impossible. I have a history of that. Blame Rogers and Hammerstein's Cinderella if you must. Impossible things are happening every day.
Wednesday was a sunny, warm, and windy day, and I started out to find where to begin my walk on the Southpointe trail. I didn't find the marking near the local high school easily, so I proceeded to the outdoor shopping mall, parked there, and picked up the trail heading back toward the high school. I argued with myself, since it was warm and there wasn't much shade, and talked myself into walking anyway, since the year isn't proceeding to cooler seasons. Get 'er done. I enjoyed the walk, but was mildly annoyed at others who didn't seem to know how far apart six feet is, or didn't seem to care about ensuring that space between us. I was glad to finally spot a sign for the photo op:
Today, I'm going stir crazy, and decided to get the other half of that trail, and, I thought, a circular loop of the Tierra-Williamsburg trail. I parked at the mall again, and headed the opposite direction. All going according to plan, or so I thought,when I spotted the sign at the trail junction:
The nice two-way arrow seemed to imply the base of the 'lollipop' part of the route I thought I was taking. I didn't think much of it when I got to a lake and the trail split; I just followed the yellow dashed line and thought, "This circle may be bigger than I planned, but I can do it." I was surprised to find myself in a residential area, with one final sign, with an arrow pointing in only one direction: back the way I had come.
Back I went.
I know I have enough nervous energy to walk additional parts of the trail(s) this month. It's more a matter of community consciousness, keeping us all as safe as possible.
I was ecstatic on my return journey to see another woman 'of a certain age' walking several feet away from the trail, on a slope with trees, and I exclaimed, "I've been doing that!"
"I wish others would!" she said.
I agree. On Wednesday, I was the only one stepping off trail to make sure I got the distance between humans. Today, I could see the mama with stroller ahead of me, glancing back a bit worried as I closed the gap. Because of her position on the path, I jogged up the slope and called "on your right - sort of" to let her know what I was doing as I cut an ample circular path around them.
Others seem accepting of my face covering, but few are following suit so far. Granted, it gets pretty moist when you're breathing deeply. But again, gotta keep us as safe (and sane) as we can.
On our zoom call today, OKM provided me a chuckle by sharing that our non-sparking sister measured the trail width, and found it to be 8 feet in her area. Besides being amused by our family's quirkiness, I also was comforted to know that what I perceived to be 6 foot may be 8.
Tomorrow is another work-from-home day for me. I'd better go get some sleep! TTYL!