We pose before the run. From left to right, we have Breakheart Dan, Trail Pixie, Cookie Monster (my new nickname. Appropriate.), Trailgrrl, and KZ. We all use cover identities to protect our families from supervillains.
A Sesame Street lesson is learned here: Tall! Short!
We post for yet another photo. Either I am at this point still an outsider, or I am leaving a phantom spot open for Trailgrrl as she takes the picture.
KZ is still getting ready. The rest of us enjoy the fine art of conversation. Actually, the females are probably saying something completely inappropriate...again.
Ferns fade in Fall far from the Fells. The gang tries to escape me, but they will fail!
We walked all uphills, as per ultrarunning protocol. We are slaves to etiquette.
A nice trail running between two marshy ponds. My feet got wet and cold, but I am such a tough guy you never would have known it, unless you asked, for then I would tell you. There can be no secrets between us.
The gang tries to run around a puddle. There was some success here, to be followed by epic failure later.
The gang adopt strange poses, possibly in supplication to the marsh Gods, who are harsh and uncaring.
"Ye marshes, how candid and simple and nothing-withholding and free,
Ye publish yourselves to the sky and offer yourselves to the sea!" -The Marshes of Glynn, by Sidney Lanier (1842-1881)
The gang is totally lost. Trailgrrl says left. Breakheart Dan looks at the map in vain. KZ sees a spirit guide in his vision quest. Which animal did he see? If he told you, it would spoil his three wishes.
The gang heads down a hill toward a beautiful pond. I couldn't see the pond for the trees.
The gang heads by a huge rock that they had never seen before. Well, most of them said they had never seen it before. Trailgrrl said, "What rock?"
I never pass a bridge in the woods without a photograph, and I don't intend on abandoning that obsession. After the gang ran a 12 mile loop, Dan and I ran a second one. We ran a much faster second loop, having abandoned the speedier runners. How they both ran faster than us and slowed us down is beyond me.
17-OCT-09. Second long run with the gang at whatever the name of this trail is.
Dan calls this "Sweet single track", and I cannot help but agree with him. I like the ferns. They remind me of when I grew up, and there were ferns about. Not a very meaningful message here.
Dan, Trail Pixie and Streph come down the trail. Somehow, I got ahead of them. No idea how that may have happened. Perhaps they stopped to save the life of a distressed squirrel.
Dan thought this tree worth a photo. I thought him taking a photo of the tree worth a photo. We each have our own special unique criteria for these sorts of things.
The gang poses before the rusted hulk of an old car. Dan holds up a can of delicious Schlitz beer. Of course, it is only delicious if you have already drank at least four of them. Up to that point, it is pure agony.