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Monday, December 31, 2012

Winding River Washout

On Saturday, I ventured outdoors for another walking journey. The previous day's workout was lackluster and uninspired, so I settled for 45 minutes of the slowest peddling witnessed by the human eye. This bike was especially stationary while was using it. So, I woke up with the urge to bounce back.

Unfortunately, Mother Nature did not care about my plans... and I did not care about Mother Nature's plans. I grabbed a few layers, a pseudo-rain jacket from Brooks that I picked up at the Marine Corps Marathon - which I didn't need at all since Hurricane Sandy wasn't far enough north yet - and headed out into the light drizzle.

Winding River Park looked like a ghost town, but wet. Not even the birdies were coming outside. Besides one man with an umbrella, I was the only living creature to be seen at the park between the hours of 10am and 12pm. It was eerie yet adventurous.

I wanted to walk on earth rather than the macadam path that traverses through the park. Each trail I turned down lasted just a few footsteps because of the water overflow that washed out so much the park's land. I continued on until just before the bridge section that overlooks the curving waterway. The park looked the same last year after Hurricane Irene; I thought the small pond was overflowing but upon further examination this time, it seems that the current was moving into the pond.

This one trail comically split off into two directions; thankfully that tree with the blue arrow pointed me in the right direction.

I went back through various trails and re-examined if I could make it over or through the sitting water that blocked their traversing. Some of the trails simply required me to jump over a newly formed stream or to create a make-shift bridge out of fallen branches. As careful as I had been, my feet still ended up soaked.

When all the trails were finished, I walked beneath the power lines that paralleled the park, dodging more puddles and marshy obstacles. I considered following the power line trail out to the nearest highway, but a gigantic puddle made it impossible. It was time to turn around and head back to the car.

It has been a difficult year for the environs of Tri-State area. Our parks and recreation areas have been battered by Superstorm Sandy and Winter Storm Athena, and winter has yet to begin it's chilling wrath. But we know one thing from Mother Nature and that man named Bruce: everything that dies someday comes back.

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