Yesterday the dog and I went for a rather intense hike. We hiked from 2300 feet upt to 5800, in a fairly short distance. That is quite a steep grade. The weather was great - maybe a little too hazy for the views from the top.
After the hike we drove around some dirt roads in the mountains and kind of got lost. It was fun except for when we stopped for a bathroom brake (behind a tree, of course) and we were both startled by gunshots (luckily we just had emptied our bladders - so no mishaps). Yep, it is hunting season. I just don't get it. Let's go commune with nature by killing some wildlife. Needless to say, we were quickly back in the car and we got the heck out of there.
Today we are dealing with the fallout: the dog is pretty tired and I have two blisters, one on each heel. Can anyone tell me why blisters hurt so darn much?
Tonight I will have to limp over to campus for a lecture. One not to be missed: Yolanda King, daughter of MLK. I wonder if the power of oratory is genetic. I hope so.