KNOCKED DOWN? GET UP AGAIN

After a certain age do we get to complain about getting knocked down?

Or is it that after a certain age we get to brag about getting back up.

Big D, Blogger Dave, me; I took a dive yesterday and had to laugh.

It wasn’t funny, but still, literally falling on my ass was funny.

First the backstory:

I’ve got a dog I like to take out for a spin.

A good walk keeps the hound more calm in the house.

Since it’s not a small dog, calm is good.

Most of the time I take her on a regular walk through familiar surroundings.

But lately I’ve stretched it out.

There’s a park near my house with an eastern trail through the woods, and a northern trail.

A few days ago I walked down the eastern trial and circled around to Benchview and headed up.

The reason I haven’t done that more often is I don’t want the dog to quit on me and have to carry her home.

Again, a good sized dog.

I’ve avoided the northern trail because of a big building project.

How big?

 

Kruger Creek Big

In case you can’t read the notice:

Since it was a Sunday with no work I decided to check things out with the dog.

If I fell or got knocked down I’m sure my trusty companion would run home and fetch my wife and lead her back to me.

If Lassie could do it when Timmie fell down a well, my dog could too?

I’d never see my dog again if she ran off.

The joke is wondering whose dog she really is. Since she won’t come to me she must belong be someone else?

 

We navigated the switchbacks on the northern trail, stepping carefully over mud-slick bare patches and exposed tree roots, aiming for the machinery down below.

There was a ‘Road Closed’ sign, but since there was no road, and Sunday, I walked past.

Big earth moving equipment means a big job. 

It’s part of a bigger plan.

 

Kruger Creek is experiencing severe erosion in the Bull Mountain area.  This erosion is threatening slope stability near existing homes and the safety of sanitary, storm, park and private infrastructure located near the creek. The erosion has been so severe that the city purchased a house located on the eroding creek canyon on Southwest Gallin Court years ago.

 

Since people need to get to their equipment, there had to bet a walkway in this squishy mess.

I found it.

But my shoes weren’t up to the task at hand.

They are walking shoes with little lateral stability.

As I picked my way along, things got muddy, then muddier.

Not very stable after all.

I decided to step up a bank to higher ground.

It worked, but that shoe? My Hoka nearly rolled off my foot and I lost my balance at the top of the bank and teetered back.

Ordinarily, this is the story of a fool at sixty-eight doing stuff no one advises, like traipsing around construction sites.

But it’s just a walk with the dog.

I teetered back over the edge and knew I was going down, taking a dive.

Ordinarily an old guy goes with gravity and falls straight back, hits their head, and are discovered dead.

 

Why Sports Matter If You Get Knocked Down

As I tipped back over the bank I crouched down and lowered my center of gravity.

I turned my body, but if I didn’t turn enough I’d be horizontal to the bank and roll like a barrel.

But I made the turn and landed on my ass. After a quick assessment, I kneeled and stood.

To say I’m not as spry as I used to be is true, but I was once a wrestler and a high school football player who was knocked down and learned body control.

My old cat-like reflexes kicked in with the spin and the only injury was a muddy butt.

I’d been planning on washing my jeans once they got dirty enough. Problem solved.

 

My initial plan was walking down the trail then head up Benchview.

I wasn’t making it any further from where I was, so I backtracked to the other trial, took it down, then up the steepest hill in town.

 

This Sign Was Near The Bottom

I saw it and wanted to stop.

But then I’d have to call my wife, explain my dirty pants, and wait for a ride.

Better to slow walk the hill using all the small muscles and large and breath like a huffing horse.

Me, not the dog.

It also gave me time to think about my choices.

This wasn’t the first time I’ve slipped and got knocked down on mud with a potentially dangerous outcome.

 

When it’s possible I like to go as hard as I can, waterfalls or no waterfalls.

Most of the time I’m alone when I get cranking, which isn’t world record speed.

I got it going on Ten Falls because I had back-up in the form of big strong men, two of them, one I’ve known all of his life, the other I’ve known since he was in kindergarten.

Both of them were on the rec league teams I coached. Now they’re mid-thirties and kick ass.

So, naturally I felt motivated to kick my own ass on the Canyon Trail since they would pick me up and drag me out if the moment called.

My hiking joy is about gearing down and going hard on the uphills and letting gravity set the pace on the flats.

Take my word here as a baby boomer blogger, there’s little that’s more rewarding than dipping into endurance reserves and burning it all up on a beautiful loop trail.

Was I busting ass getting up the muddy, slippery, parts?

It sure felt like it, but the reality was watching a few single hikers pass me and pull away while I worked to keep up. My group let me lead when they could have passed me and left me in the dirt.

So I kicked it in hard going uphills, talking about mud and trenches and how it must have felt living in a cold muddy trench in WWI.

We joked about the slippery trail, about falling down a cliff into the river. Pretty funny?

Then I drive off my left foot, feeling the traction in my mud encrusted shoe slip.

I hit the ground on the bank-side of the trail, not the cliff side, and tucked and rolled.

I sprung to my feet after the roll, looking like I’d been dipped in shit.

Hiker1: Are you okay?

Me: Yep, let’s go.

Hiker2: Are you sure.

Me: I’d tell you if I wasn’t.

Hiker2: No you wouldn’t.

Me: If I was hurt I couldn’t have popped up.

Hiker1: He did jump up fast.

Hiker2: Real fast.

Me: Okay. I’m off and running.

 

Knocked Down The Right Way: Buddy Plan

Yes, I had my buddy, but not one with a rescue plan.

I told my wife about my walk and how I almost called her.

She said, “How would I get you out if you couldn’t walk?”

Which reminded of the time I climbed Mt. Marathon in Alaska.

People fell there and had to be taken off by a team with stretchers.

That wasn’t me then, and not me now, but think about how you’d feel getting packed out of the woods like half an elk.

Pretty damn stupid, I’m guessing.

I thought about it after I changed clothes and began my lifting routine in the garage.

If you’re going to do stupid things, be strong enough to take a hit.

No one bounces off rocks and the rock suffers. Keep muscles around your bones for protection.

Take someone with you if you’re thinking of covering unstable ground.

If you’re alone, or with your super dog, back away from that unstable ground.

When the sign says Road Closed, it’s closed for a reason.

Even on Sundays.

You won’t see a personal sign warning you about getting knocked down.

“Blogger Dave, be careful or you’ll fall on your ass.”

Would it matter if there was a sign?