Sunday, July 22, 2012
Our Ratso Rizzo Trail
We often think of this scene from Midnight Cowboy when we're walking on the summer trails here. The blackberry vines grab us everywhere, and while we disentangle ourselves, we have been known to shout, "Hey, I'm walkin' here. I'm walkin' here."
The berry vines are merciless. We have stopped wearing our comfy hiking sandals and always put on our socks and sneakers for every walk. I wear long pants because I can't stand all the burs and stickers that wind up in my socks and annoy me for the rest of the hike. Mountain hiking has its prickly hazards. We keep a backpack by the front door. It's there to remind us to pick it up and take it on the hikes with us. We put our garden clippers in it, so Roger can snip away all the stickery, thorny things that make the trail a mess. But, as I have mentioned in previous posts, our memory ain't what it used to be, so even the pack by the door doesn't always provide enough of a reminder to grab it. We zip right past it, camera in hand and a bounce in our steps. Funny thing, though, I always remember that we have forgotten the pack on the exact same spot on the trail. We have a good laugh about that, and then wend our way through the vines that stick and scratch us, cussin' like Ratso Rizzo.
The other day, though, we did remember to grab that pack. While we hiked, Roger clipped and clipped all along the way. It slows us way down, but we love the ease of hiking the next time we hit the trail.
Take that, you thorny vines, we're walkin' here!
Posted by robin andrea at 2:42 PM