Thursday, July 30, 2009
TUMBLEWEED
Booker and I like to walk a route we call "the trail".
You go to the end of Mesa, turn right and hook a left in front of Johnny Mercer's house and up a short road to a trail that plunges down into an arroyo.
The trail is below ground level so it seems you are away from it all. In fact, in five minutes you are up the other side in a neighborhood dominated by houses owned by Barry Manilow. He has bought up many of the homes surrounding his place on the butte just above.
Name dropping. This is Palm Springs, after all.
When we have rooted around Mr. Manilow's fence and the many bushes he has planted, we turn around and come back the same way.
Last spring, the old path into the arroyo washed out in heavy rains. You could still traverse it but it was rocky going. And sandy.
Recently someone put in a new more gradual path down in and it was a great improvement. But recently it, too, has deteriorated because the bed rock is not there to support the path. The sand which supports it has worked out and now there are more little boulders. Last night, it got to a critical point. When I went down behind Booker, I found that I was moving and couldn't stop. No foothold. And I got going faster.
I toppled over and rolled on my shoulder. I remember seeing my ass higher than my head but I got stopped by a brittle bush and laid out on a flat boulder. I know how to fall. Let it happen and curl into it. Take it on the shoulder or ass.
Booker came back and I told him I was OK even though I was not sure of that.
But I was.
Some mess here and there from scratches. Bloody patches which washed clean to just a scrape when I got home. The most serious thing was a puncture wound on my forearm and a "goose egg" swelling around the site. A contusion I believe.
I got home, cleaned it up and put some ice on the swelling. It is OK this morning. A little sore.
And, I got my "marching orders" from John. No more trails. I settled for no more trails in that direction. The other side is gradual and good with handholds. I can go up the "treachorous" side, just not down. So we will walk around, come up by the street way and then return by the trail.
Another thing to give up. It is one of the harder parts of aging. I can handle the bruises. It is the giving up that is hard to do. But I take the point. I could have had a broken arm or leg and Booker would have had to carry me out.
