The above is almost a word for word quote I expressed this weekend while on one of my actual adventures. It's amazing anyone puts up with me, or that I continue to do any physical activity rather than just sitting on the couch eating Cheetos. That would be a sweet life, indeed.
But then I'd likely be fat and my fingers would continually be covered in cheese dust. That would be less great.
This weekend, in place of our usual Sunday run, Barrett and I set out to hike Harkening Hill, one of the slightly less daunting trails nestled in the Peaks of Otter. That "slightly" is an important modifier, though, because there are still some less than gradual slopes along the way (thankfully broken up by plenty of easier climbs) that can cause one to opine about the difficulty of hiking, especially when coming off a not-stellar night of sleep due to partying, partying, yeah.
Still, Sunday's hike was actually a very pleasant adventure, as adventures go. The hill is super shaded, protecting us from the 80-degree temperatures. Like Flat Top, Harkening Hill is far less popular than Sharp Top, so we were able to scale it and return down without fighting off hordes of other hikers - usually groups that include tiny, tiny children literally sprinting up the mountain and making me feel extremely inferior about my state of physical fitness.
Sadly, I did not take any pictures on Sunday's hike, but plan to steal some from Barrett - expect an updated post at some point. But there are a few physical features of the Harkening Hill trial worth pointing out.
As I mentioned, it's very well-shaded. I've now hiked this trail about once a season, and it's amazing to observe the changes in its scenery over the course of just a few months. When I hiked it with friends in late April, we saw newly blossoming trees and a slight proliferation of ground cover, but the trail was still frequently discernible and we had fairly clear views of the surrounding mountains all along our route.
Not so in early June. At times the trail was almost completely overtaken by ground-level fauna; we might have been wise to bring a machete. I was in constant fear of treading over some poison ivy or attracting some ticks - worse, I at one point expressed my fear of brushing up against tick-infested poison ivy. How bad would that be?
The trees are thick with bright green foliage these days, obscuring the views of surrounding mountains for most of the trail, but not making those views or the hill itself any less beautiful. There are several points along the ways with rocks perfectly suited for sitting and looking out at the beauty of the Blue Ridge, plus the summit itself has a nice flat rock that would be perfect for tanning - if giving myself skin cancer was worth that level of effort.
On the way back down, we passed through two meadows of various wild grasses, that are well above knee-high nowhere near the Fourth of July. It was in these meadows that I loudly proclaimed "It's hot!" apropos of nothing and in the same tone I would likely have used if we'd encountered a bear - which, luckily, we did not.
The final section of the trail passes over and near a cute little creek and then back around to the picturesque parking lot. (Okay, obviously I'm joking about the parking lot, but Barrett claimed there was a tourist video taping the outside of the blase visitor center and bathrooms, so you never know. People can find beauty anywhere, I suppose.)
All in all, it was a quality way to spend a Sunday, and an actual adventure for me to recount here. No super pithy observations to share, other than that hiking is indeed hard, it is often hot outside, and being tired is the worst.
But I suppose that's all better than being permanently coated in cheese dust.
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