A Moderately Successful Hike

There was rain in the forecast, so we decided to stay low and relatively flat, walking over some old Revolutionary War trails just south of Bear Mountain. We were getting pretty close to Doodletown when The Offspring stepped in a patch of wet leaves hiding a hole between a root and a rock and went down, twisting his foot.

We applied Advil and an ace bandage, Mom shouldered his pack, Dad helped him limp along as we turned around for the walk back out. The trail runs close to the road for a while, so when we reached the point of convergence, Offspring and I cut through the underbrush to the road while The Mate went to get the car and meet us.

The foot is still aching today, but the injury is fairly minor and should heal on its own soon. The Offspring said as soon as it's better, he wants to do the hike again and make it all the way to Doodletown. He discovered some of his own strength in pushing through pain on the way out, and he's learned that an injury doesn't have to ruin an outing.

Other bonuses: Mountain laurel was riotously in bloom in the low-lying areas. I don't recall ever seeing it like that, because by June we're usually up on the ridges, looking for breeze and a view into the distance. It didn't rain, despite the forecast, but because of the forecast, parking was easy and we had the trail to ourselves.

Also: we found, and harvested, some rhubarb growing wild. It turned out to be too tough and bitter* to eat, but the farmers-market rhubarb and strawberries we picked up on the way home made a really tasty pie.

Which, as I was eating it for breakfast this morning, made me think of my grandmother, who was a gentle, loving, kind person, and though not much of a cook made delicious rhubarb pie from a patch of rhubarb growing behind her house in Maine.

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*"Only by the wildest stretch of the imagination can rhubarb be included in this chapter [Fruit]..." -- Irma S. Rombauer and Marion Rombauer Becker, Joy of Cooking.