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My Broken Top Trek July 2003 The hike began in a moderate vein through the ripe green meadow grasses celebrated with midget bug wings rising a full 11 inches with every footfall. The errant Rudi, a toy poodle, is in tow verses tug, his enthrall rising at the twine of a scent. This dog’s nose knows no moderation, the greedy channels locked in full flood of sensory scintillation. Toes tingling with enthusiasm, his whiff-and-pee repeats endlessly. Passing along the lake, placid now, beckoning the feet with its clear call of cool, this will be missed in the extreme soon, but onward, and indeed upward, for when we find the trail it absolutely soars. I reach for my truest gear, thinking of the workouts at the “Y”, treading in earnest, thirty minutes to the stretch, two miles logged, 400 calories burned. Hunkering into the aerobic gait, the first mile is arduous, breathing with intent, comfort in complete abeyance. Tam Mc Arthur Rim had a formidable look from the lake, but this indirect end walk promises to surmount the obstacle, and what’s a bit of optimism for? The first plateau is a confidence builder, kind of a walking respite, leg strokes powering, breath taut, but no problem.
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