I took the opportunity to go for a strenuous hike in the mountains today. Of course, me being me, I decided to stick with my plan despite the hot temperature and high humidity, which makes it challenging for me to breathe. I’d had illusions that I might run part of the trek, but was smart enough to relinquish that idea once I saw how hard it was to catch my breath.
The first mile of my route went easy enough, sans the humidity thing.
But then came the bee-to-bee escort I got. Now most don’t especially like encountering bees, myself included. Not that I go swatting at them and freaking out. I don’t. It’s just that I prefer not to find myself walking amongst large swarms of them in the middle of the hills or being escorted by a host of them that reappear every five feet or less.
The latter was what happened today, and that tended to make me a bit uncomfortable, for I kept thinking I was being led into what might prove to be a swarm of bees. I have experienced that very thing on this route before, especially around this time of year.
So did I turn back? Me? Hell no! I ventured forth, being mindful to not piss off the little winged honey producers as they circled my calves, encouraging me along. I’m assuming they stayed with me so I wouldn’t get bored.
Ri-ght…that’s it.
As I rounded a bend about a half-mile from having the bees join me…or me join them, not sure which it was, I suppose they decided I’d had enough of an escort and left me to walk alone.
Another two hundred yards or so ahead, I came across a huge, and I do mean huge, blue squirrel. He had to have outweighed the average housecat by one and a half times! And he had the bushiest at least six-inch wide tail, which he proudly swished this way and that.
Show off!
As I approached, the squirrel didn’t get out of my way. In fact, I had to side step my way around him. I think it was just too blessedly hot for him to move, though he did turn and look at me as if daring me to try to catch him. Although tempted, I, too thought it was way too hot and kept going.
I went another fifty yards or so before encountering a couple of baby grey squirrels. The little darlings were in no particular hurry to cross the trail in front of me, so I slowed to give them safe passage. As I came even with them, one darted down the embankment, probably feeling I was too close, but the other turned, paused and looked at me, his jet-black eyes shining in the light, his little mouth twitching and his scrawny tail flicking about.
How adorable!
I parted with my furry new friends and continued on for another half mile where the incline is steep, arid and hot thermals make the temperature feel more than it is. And that’s where I was buzzed by one of my least-favorite critters on the trail—a hungry horsefly. For those of you who have never encountered one, let me assure you they are nothing like a regular house fly other than that they have wings. Think flying piranha or flying sharks and you’re getting close to what horseflies are capable of.
And here’s the best part of a horsefly—not. Unlike a bee, who will simply chase you until you leave his immediate area, horseflies are little shits that will pursue you anywhere from a quarter to a half mile, trying their damnedest to bite a chunk out of you. And I mean that literally—a chunk!
Okay, I do have a confession here. Just before encountering the horsefly, I had easily passed a couple that wasn’t in the best of shape. I knew they weren’t far behind me and gauged that if I began running, the horsefly might find me a challenge and opt for the unsuspecting couple. Hey, I know it was an evil thought, but survival of the fittest kicked into high gear. And I knew from past painful experiences that once a horsefly bit and drew blood, others, smelling fresh blood, would join in on the hunt.
No way! Not putting myself out there as an appetizer for the little winged devils!
So I ran. Not just ran but sprinted up the steep incline, me not being a happy uphill runner, cursing the little bastard with every breath as it continued to stay with me. But all of a sudden, I noticed that the flying beast buzzed off to my side and looked past me, I’m supposing at the main course couple ambling their way up the hill behind me. Inwardly, I smiled as the horsefly opted for them, leaving me alone.
I continued running another quarter mile just to be sure that I as outside the winded beast’s flying territory before slowing to a rapid walk. That burst of exertion had me winded and gasping at the pea soup air thick with humidity. But hey, I was free of the horsefly and had managed to avoid getting one of his painful bites that would have led to more by others without a doubt.
There, the mountain trail switches back on itself, creating shade. Bunches of black birds, not sure what kind, were resting on the dirt in the shade and, looking me over from head to toe, decided that I wasn’t a threat. I passed a host of them, some larger, others babies as they looked up at me. Most were close enough that I could have reached out and touched them should the urge have struck. But I respected the fact that they, too, sought refuge from the blazing heat and left them alone.
As I approached the halfway point to my hike, I thought I might pause and take a break. But nature had other plans for me. First one, and then a dozen and then hundreds more of bees crossed my path. In front of me. Behind me. On my sides. More and more came. Having experienced this before, I knew to keep my mouth shut, literally, and travel through their swarm creating as little disturbance as possible. I must say, however, that’s rather challenging when you’re wearing nothing but a sports bra and running shorts and bees are smacking into every exposed part of your body.
At this time, all thoughts of taking a break fled my mind, replaced with a determination to make it through the swarm without getting stung. Not that I’m allergic, just hate getting stung. After all, it hurts.
Thankfully, I managed to make it past the swarm, stinger-free.
Yeah!
It was then that I realized my “fun” might only be beginning, as I was entering the area, which is usually populated with rattlesnakes, sunning themselves on the trail.
Happy, happy, joy, joy!
I had a choice, turn back and endure all that I had—again—or keep going, hoping for the best. Of course, the fact that I was running out of water, something I rarely do, because of the humidity and high temperature, didn’t make me feel any more comforted.
Me being stubborn me, I refused to let the mountain trail get the better of me and continued on. And that’s when I was met with a pleasant surprise. I guess Mother Nature decided she’d had enough fun at my expense and let me finish the remainder of my hike without odd encounters that quickened my pulse. Instead, I got to see gorgeous hawks riding the thermals, more squirrels darting this way and that, swishing their busy tails as if waving at me, and a host of other birds, going about their business.
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