Then I got up the courage to look at the 2005 tax stuff to see if I really owed the government money from that year. I didn't. They are wrong. There is no previous balance! Why do I always assume the worst? Why do I always expect I must be in the wrong?
Sarah called and we headed out for a 2 ½ hour hike.
We climbed a very steep hill to reach a wonderful spot where soft moss carpets big rocky places where you can rest and just enjoy the view and the freshness of the autumn air. The dogs, exhausted from chasing one another and intriguing smells through the woods, flopped down to rest.
We scrambled down hills, one so steep that someone long ago had set up a rope to hang onto. It went from tree to tree, but one of its anchors had since rotted and fallen, leaving the rope slack. I felt remarkably healthy as I scrambled about in the thick undergrowth. This is not a groomed trail, and the orange marker ribbons that the long ago person put up are often hard to find or have fallen off. Sarah said some people pay big bucks to have this kind of adventure, and here it is, right on our door step.
Trees have fallen across the ancient path and you often have to detour around, or crawl over or under them.
The dogs found a beautiful bog which looked like a pool until they waded around in its sludge and we were assaulted by the distinctive smell of sulphur dioxide. We expected the dogs to reek of rotten eggs, but, by the time we got home they smelled just like themselves again.
It was like being in another world out there, one untouched by human beings, except where they left helpful hints for the next people to find the trail. I prefer that kind of hiking to following more traveled trails. Is it something like the road less traveled, I wonder?
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