Today will be a light mileage day for us. Yesterday, we started out on the trail under a peach-brushed dawn-blue sky. It was 31 degrees. We walked the same trail system we’ve been using but chose a different route. When we finished seven miles later, our longest trek yet, it was fifty degrees.
We only encountered a few people, and one of them was Barbara, a spirited 78-year-old. She was moving quickly over the rocky section of trail while wearing athletic fleece gear, a water bottle carrier, and a red baseball cap. Samwise, who led most of yesterday’s miles, thanks to the fresh scents and tracks of a tangle of coyotes and some javelinas, first made her acquaintance and was quite taken with her. But so were Emily and I.
Other than her lively manner, what captured my attention was a fat shock of punk-purple hair among her salt and pepper mane (more pepper than salt) sticking out from the side of her baseball cap.
“I love it!” I said. “It’s not too often you see a woman in her fifties with …
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