A Path To The Past

I returned today to the 'hike/bike' path for another dose of bodily abuse. After returning to the path on Sunday and 'vowing' to maintain some sort of ongoing physical conditioning regiment, I was ready today to tackle the trail once more. After all, the weather here today was absolutely beautiful. I know that perhaps in a few short weeks cold weather will most likely join the mutitude of other 'reasons' that I can't get outside and 'work-out' (Hike, Jog, etc.). The changing of Daylight Savings time has already threw a hefty sized wrench into my normal daily routine anyway. It is starting to get dark at 5:30 P.M. now, and as far as I'm concerned, that's just not enough daylight to enjoy the fall evenings. What are we "Saving Daylight" for anyway?

The trail itself was again surrounded in a blissful state of autum color. As I arrived at the trailhead, I noticed a van with 4 older folks standing around enjoying some type of lunch/snack from a colorful cooler nestled in the back. I began my ritual of 'getting ready', which includes: 1)removing keys, change and anything else in my pockets 2) affixing the I-Pod and earbuds 3) tying my shoelaces in a 'double-knot' 4) Sunglasses goes on 5) HEAD-BAND goes on! It was about this time that I looked up to see one of the guys who was at the van, standing beside my truck, with a map in his hand.
"What's the best way to get to Lincoln's Birthplace?" he asked.
I thought for a second, -this sounds like the begining of joke, but no, it only sounded like that, he was serious. You see, Abraham Lincoln's birthplace is only about 30 miles from where we were standing. So, I offered what little bit of information I could, and the gentleman seemed content. He rolled up his map and walked back to the other three at the van, loudly proclaiming "Load 'em up", seemingly anxious to 'get a move on'.

Which was just what I had in mind- getting a move on. As expected, the trail offered its same challenges as only three days before. I must say though, there is a stand of pine trees not far 'into' the trail that is interspersed with other trees having colorful fall foilage, that is really nice to be in. The leaf covered trail seemed to wind its way through the dense tree covering like the 'yellow-brick road' from the "Wizard of Oz". But in my quest to maintain an elevated heart rate, I no doubt spent way too little time here, plodding right through with an awkward gait and even more awkward breathing.

On Monday I had talked with my Mom about this trail, where it was located, and some of the things it passes along the way. She instantly knew the area I was describing as her family had lived nearby while she was just a young girl. She specifically recalled the 'creek' that runs parallel to the path for just about the entire length.
"That creek is where we use to go when someone got baptized" she remembered from her youth.

I have been doing this trail since the summer and have probably completed it 10 or 12 times now. Even though I have fully been aware that the creek is there, I had always thought that there never was very much water in it. Surely not enough to baptize someone. But today when I reached a point that was just supremely picturesque, I looked down toward the creek to see a rather large 'hole' of water, that was probably 4 feet deep, even when there wasn't much water anywhere else in the creek. A wave of flashbacks instantly invaded my reeling thought processes. I could plainly envision the reverend and the newly baptized youth standing in the middle of the creek, surrounded on the bank by family and other faithful flock members. The sleeves of the reverends white collared shirt rolled up to the elbows, the youth regaining their footing after being 'washed in the blood of the lamb', and of course multiple "AMEN's" from the onlookers. A wave of nostalgia seemed to rush through my body, and then in an instant, as I continued to plod along, the creekbed was dry once again.

Nothing else from my journey today really stands out, aside from the multiple times I wanted to quit and just walk back to the begining. It is a shame to be so completley and dreadfully out of shape. But I managed to 'keep the faith' and stick to the gameplan, which was to 'come back tired'. So time and time again, I fully recall that first transitional step between walking and jogging. It was difficult to say the least, but with much perseverence, I managed to continue. Today I reached the halfway point in 39 minutes and 45 seconds. The return time was even a few seconds better at 39 minutes and 27 seconds. SO... today's total trip time was: 1 Hour, 19 Minutes and 12 Seconds (1:19.12).

When I had finally finished and was back at my truck, I noticed the weird feeling of 'not moving forward' anymore. This feeling lasted for a good five minutes after I had stopped. I took a look at my watch to realize that I had reduced my time from Sunday by about 4 minutes.

From somewhere in the surrounding hills I could hear a distant voice - it said "Amen Brother!"