Sunday, October 19, 2008

woodland adventures

...in which Andrea and Mr Indemnity almost DIE in the wilderness...

So. If you look back a year or so ago in this blog, you will see an entry in which Mr Indemnity and I went hiking in the Middlesex Fells and enjoyed it immensely. We enjoyed it so much we always planned to repeat the experience, but you know how it is. It rains on the weekends, other obligations interfere, the need to drink beer and go shopping seems more pressing, blah blah.

Today, however, though the weather was, shall we say, brisk, and my ankle is still wrapped, it was sunny, the foliage is turning, and Mr Indemnity's girlfriend, the lovely J, was swamped with work, so it seemed like as good a time as any to go to Stoneham and commune with nature. But first we went to IHOP for breakfast. Well, technically, lunch, but if it involves lots and lots of pancakes, I consider it breakfast. And it's a good thing we ate lots and lots of pancakes and carb-loaded, because we would need those glucose reserves for the ordeal we were about to endure. Duh duh DUH. <-----that's foreshadowing, kids.

So, we go back to the Sheepfold, which is where we entered the Fells the last time. And, to our best recollection, last time we stayed on the white trail, which is the "moderate" hike and which took us considerably less than the three hours the hiking book told us it was supposed to take. Today we originally planned to take part of the orange trail, which is 5 hours long and "strenuous", by walking in one direction for an hour or hour and fifteen minutes and then just turning around and retracing our steps. But when we started to do that, we realized it soon intersected the white trail, and we figured, what the hell, that was pretty easy last time, let's just do that loop again. Our time check heading into the woods was 2:20 pm. Plenty of time to make it out before dark even if it did take three hours, right? RIGHT?

Well. Apparently we somehow missed part of the trail last time. Now, if you haven't been to the Middlesex Fells, let me explain that for part of the trail you basically are in someone's backyard, and for another, you are actually forced out of the woods onto the road, so as not to get too close to the Winchester town water supply. But we were way past that point and deep into the woods, beginning to get tired and definitely thirsty (because, moronically, we did not bring water with us), and it was 5:10 when we came across a sign that said Sheepfold 2 miles. Oh fuck me. One cannot cover two miles on those trails in twenty minutes, especially since Mr Indemnity's quads were giving out on the almost-vertical uphills (not having my powerful bulgy Polish catcher's thighs) and I was taking the almost-vertical downhills very gingerly, being really afraid I was gonna land wrong on my weak right ankle. Nevertheless we picked up the pace. Fear of DYING will do that for ya.

And obviously, we made it out alive. At like 6:10. In the twilight. Where we immediately drove to Medford, looking for a convenience store to sell us some Gatorade, VitaminWater, and Snickers bars.

I was, however, flooded with endorphins. So that's a good thing! And I'm sure I burned off the pancakes and the Snickers bar and some of my excess fat, right?

Hope you all had a nice Sunday full of endorphins, too!

xoxo

8 comments:

Anonymous said...

As I hobbled towards the bedroom just now I told J she should send you a nasty email about you physically damaging her boyfriend.

I don't think I'll be able to walk up stairs for a week!

If it weren't for the very real threat of being found a few days from now a lifeless frozen corpse, dead from exposure and gnawed on by roving packs of formerly domesticated canines, the Fells would, indeed be awesome.

malevolent andrea said...

Sniff. It is not my fault you were born the wrong ethnicity. *My* naturally strong and powerful quads and hamstrings are not complaining one little bit today.

I keep telling you, hundreds of thousands of years of evolution have genetically maximized me for squatting in a cabbage field, popping out a baby, and going right back to hoeing (or plowing or whatever the hell you do in cabbage fields), not being a Sports Illustrated Swimsuit model. I'm sure Giselle would have died in those woods with those spindly little thighs of hers.

Anonymous said...

I think my problem is I'm not (literally) following in the thousand year footsteps of my many shepherd ancestors.

If I were spending my days moving herds of sheep up and down the rolling hills of Galilee--like King David--I'd probably have thighs of iron too. It's our modern non-sheep-centered world that's preventing my properly exercising my quads.

Though, as you know, I still have a hereditary love of all things wooly, so I haven't entirely become a creature of modern, removed from the herding world culture.

jennylewin said...

I'm so sorry to read about what befell you both out there! Ok, sorry, I couldn't resist. And I'm glad I wasn't there, but instead happily ensconced in a chair with books, papers, & a cat competing with (other) laptop.

But we DO need to do something about those thighs. When your ankle heals, some rock climbing on indoor walls at first for Mr I?

malevolent andrea said...

Yes! Let's torture him and make him go indoor rock climbing! I would so love to do that.

Um, I mean the climbing wall, that is, not torturing Mr Indemnity, because obviously my delight in *that* goes without saying.

Anonymous said...

Hey, M-A, weren't you the one who instantly knew that the Ferris Wheel was the scariest ride on the Midway? And now you want me to climb straight up a sheer rock wall only to fall to my untimely death?

Well, only if you do it too. ;-)

jennylewin said...

M-A, you shoulda seen his face, with the beautiful I-93 in plain view in the dark distance on a northshore fall night. I did feel bad for him-- at that moment, anyways.

malevolent andrea said...

J, I did have ferris wheel sympathy for him, since they aren't my favorite thing either. But the rock climbing wall at Dick's? C'mon now. Not only is that *not* hundreds of feet off the ground, eight year olds scale it, and besides, they have safety precautions so you cannot fall to your messy demise, being worried about the liability issues and all.

But Mr Indemnity? If the safety precautions at Dick's *did* somehow fail and you fell to your death, just think. Your parents would own a very lovely chain of sporting goods stores! Wouldn't that be nice for them????? So stop being selfish and go indoor rock climbing with J and me!!! :-)