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| Prickly Pear Cactus in the foothills |
As Becca and I were hiking back toward the trailhead, about a quarter mile away from the car, I tripped and fell forward. Even though I got my hands out in front of me and managed to twist slightly left to take the brunt of the impact on my right side I thudded into the sandy soil quite hard, cutting my right hand and my right knee. Of course the first thing I did when I got up was to look around to see if anyone had seen my pratfall. I saw a couple of Jackrabbits holding their paws over their mouths to keep from laughing aloud. Seriously, though, as I stood, rounded up my water bottles, which had slipped out of my daypack, I noticed Becca looking at me with a curious expression on her face that said, "What was that all about?" Now, several hours after the hike, the heels of my hands are sore, as are my wrists. I'll have to wait until tomorrow to see what else aches.
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| Heading ever higher |
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| Leveling off on the mountain flank |
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| Greater Roadrunner |
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| Roadrunner disappeared into this deep gully |
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| Mix of clouds and contrails |
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| Heading back up the mountain on a single-track |
3 comments:
Great photos of the roadrunner--it must have been pretty close to you. Was that before or after your tumble?
I like to hike in my preserve after dark, and usually nothing happens. But one night--years ago--I tripped over a rock as I was walking uphill and really twisted one of my little fingers--twisted so much that it was obviously out of joint. When I got back, I massaged the digit until it got back into line, but boy was it sore for a long while. That put a real kibosh in my night hiking.
It was before the tumble, Dr. K.
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