Another Back Story

Another back story to go along with my story that ran today in the Danville Weekly.
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When I signed up to write a story on hiking, I figured it would be the perfect motivation to get out and enjoy the improving weather. I love to hike, I love to write, so what could be more perfect? My editor and I assigned the story a deadline so that the story could run in early Spring.

I've hiked numerous times in the rain and I have decent gear. So, one morning I headed out to brave in inclimate conditions and explore a few trails in the name of research. None of my friends were available, but my four-legged hiking partner, Pete, saw no reason to stay home, so I loaded him into the van and headed out.

My game plan was to do a nice loop. Kind of a nice up and down I found on a map. I figured it would take me two hours tops. I parked the car, unloaded Pete and the two of us set off in a light rain. Amazingly, I ran into a woman I knew from FCC on the trail and she and I hiked together for the first hour. She was taking a different route than I, so we parted ways with her reassuring me the trail down would be a piece of cake.

And it was a piece of cake...as long as you like lots of frosting. The mud was so thick that in several spots I was wishing for skis to just slide through the muck. Pete, of course, loved every second of the filth and was gaily chasing squirrels as I picked my way down the incline. I knew at some point the trail was supposed to fork, and I was supposed to take the left fork, but I never saw it. Next thing I knew I came to a big gate, that said "Private Property. Keep Out."

Well, I had been hiking for 90 minutes in the rain in horrible mud and I had just climbed down a hill I had no intention of climbing back up. It wasn't a fitness issue, I was running out of time and I was just sure I was on the right path. So, I did what every responsible 40 year old would do: I jumped the fence. Pete found an opening too, and he and I continued down the hill on a considerably better drained trail.

About 5 minutes past the first gate, we came to another smaller gate that was wide open. I leashed Pete up because it looked like we were entering a neighborhood. We veered right down the street. The grounds surrounding me were lovely, it looked like a golf course. I saw a couple of houses, and I was sort of wondering where I was. Then I saw a really big locked gate. No big deal I thought, I will just go the other way.

So, me and my muddy 90 pound Australian Shepherd headed back to try the other fork in the road. Now I was on a lovely loop that led me past a sparkling swimming pool surrounded by a terraced patio. There was an outdoor kitchen with more amentities than my indoor kitchen, a fireplace, yard furniture nicer than anything in my house and trellis laden with out of season wisteria. My walk took me past the front of a rambling craftsman style mansion and right back to the same really big locked gate. Uh-Oh!

When I turned around there was a woman standing in front of the lovely manse and she was not pleased to see me and my wet, muddy dog on her property. Oops! I began apologizing profusely and I explained I was hiking in unfamiliar territory and got lost. Could she please just let me out of her yard? No was the answer. She wanted to know exactly how I got in there. Didn't I see the 10 foot gate?

Now, there were several answers to that questions, but I really didn't want to admit I hopped the 10 foot gate like a 12 year old looking for a pool on a hot day. So, I evaded her question by repeating my story and then adding I was a writer researching a story for a local paper. Wrong answer. At that point, I thought the police were going to be called, so I fessed up to hopping the fence and I was hoping that my editor would take my one call from jail.

More fast talking on my part. A lot more skeptical looks on her part and I finally convinced her to let me out. Whew! So, after making me wait by the gate for an additional 10 minutes...probably just to torture me...she opened the gate from her house and I escaped.

When I got back to my car, I looked down and realized why she was so skeptical. Pete was not the only muddy creature crawling around her property. I was dripping wet and covered with mud from the waist down. And even worse, I had exactly 10 minutes to make my meeting with my editor. Unfortunately, it wasn't the editor who's story was on hiking. It was the other editor. So, I walked into this meeting, several minutes late, shoeless, soaking wet and covered with mud. He looked me up and down then brought the publisher into the meeting. Yikes, I wasn't expecting that. Good thing she and I knew each other socially. I never explained my appearance and they never asked. Perhaps when they see today's story they will figure it out.