Hiking season finally began for us today. Typically it arrives in the middle of August, but it was a hot and sticky month, so out of character for the gateway to autumn. Then last week, Samwise had a slight limp, and we rested for a day. When we were due to hike the next morning, I did not want to put him on the rugged trails. Instead, we waded across the Ellis River in our backyard to the cross-country ski trails. Samwise knows himself well, so I let him lead. He would decide when to turn back.
Six miles later, we returned home. The injury was as minor as I had figured it to be. Still, better safe than sorry.
This reminds me of when I decided Atticus and I would attempt to hike the 48 in winter during our first year on the trails. Steve Smith at the Mountain Wanderer in Lincoln said, “Even if Atticus finishes the list, we can’t recognize his accomplishments.”
Steve was a member of the Appalachian Mountain Club’s 4,000-Footer Committee and a friend.
“Why not?” I aske…
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