Mace v.1.3.10

I had to mention the old guy.

So we* went hiking at Big Basin on Sunday. Before getting started on our nine-plus mile hike, we stop at the bathroom and get our ducks in a row. I notice, as I walk into the bathroom, that there’s an older gentleman talking to some tourists, and I swear, as the door was closing, I heard him say, "… and I was surprised what good English she spoke." Which was weird, because the tourists looked like American Asian people to me. Perhaps I lacked the sharp eye of the older gentleman.

When I came out of the restroom, he was still standing nearby. I asked my friend to help tighten my laces**. He pulls, but not enough. I tell him to do it harder. Older gentleman takes this opportunity to tell my friend to "tie me up nice and tight." Friend and I look at each other, and try not to laugh too loud. Then he informs me that my boots "aren’t high enough" to protect me "from rattlesnakes." I don’t remember if I responded to him or not, but he continued, segueing from rattlesnakes to big cats***, mentioning that they can be 120-130 pounds, and stand as tall as a man on their back feet. We mutter some thanks to him, and are off on our merry way.

Merry is a pretty loose term. There was a mudslide, and we had to forage our own trail around the peanut-buttery mud, which poor Kristin stepped in. A bridge had washed out, so we had to find our own way across the raging creek. Five miles in I slipped on some mud and my knee felt a little weird. By the end of the hike I was pretty much carrying most of my right side on a stick I found along the way. Every time I think I’m getting closer to my Yosemite goal, I falter.

BTW, rattlesnakes spotted = 0. Big cats = 0. Small cats = 1 in the parking lot.

* Me, Kristin, Jeremy x 2. Jesse wasn’t feeling well, and Kurt fell off the face of earth.
** My boot laces totally rip up my hands! And since I’d already tightened them once, and my hands were cold, when I tried to touch them my hands throbbed. Little did I know how I would later bruise my hands clinging to a stick…
*** He never mentioned what kind of big cats we would encounter. I totally imagined a lion or jaguar. I’m pretty sure those aren’t native to the Santa Cruz mountains.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, March 28th, 2006 at 1:24 pm and is filed under Hiking and Nature. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.