Our History at Umstead

It has literally been one of those days. One of those inexplicably bad days where nothing actually happened, nothing out of the ordinary, yet I wallowed through the day as if someone had just run over my dog. (Bad expression, I know.) I was indiscernibly and irrationally blue. The world was a glass that could only be described as half empty. At best.

I was in a funk. Can't explain why. I just was.

So I came home from work, picked up B.B. and took her down to my favorite set of walking trails around here: down at Umstead State Park. It was warm without being too hot, and the park was practically deserted. There was a small cadre of moms and kids having a picnic near the entrance, and a couple casual walkers that we passed on our way in, but that was it. Come here on a weekend, and we may meet/greet several dozen other hikers. Today, I think we passed two (one of whom had a group of four nervous dogs on leashes and was kind enough to pull them way back off the trail as we passed).

The trail from the Harrison Ave. parking lot goes basically in two directions: north to the Company Mill Trail or east down Loblolly Trail. The Company Mill Trail is my favorite, probably because that's the first trail B.B. and I ever walked down in this park. We came here for the first time back in the fall of 2009. She was still quite the puppy, about 10 months old, but devilish in her desire to explore new places. I'd never been before, although K and I had scouted it out several months earlier and picked up a map. So one Saturday morning, B.B. and I headed down there to check it out. The map showed the Company Mill Trail at just under 6 miles (which was, at the time, about the distance we'd been walking 3-4 times a week) so I headed in that direction.

The thing to know about this trail is it starts from the elevation of the parking lot and immediately descends down switch backs to one of the lowest points in the park, down by a river (using that term loosely) which, I guess, is Reedy Creek. (It's not well labelled on the map, but it does flow into Reedy Creek Lake, so that might be a clue.) At that point, about a mile down, you cross the river over a narrow bridge (maybe 30' long) and you can then follow the Company Mill Trail left or right. Either way, it makes a big, 4-mile loop. It climbs up and down in several places and winds around until you end up right back where you started, at that bridge, and then you have to then scale your way back up those switch backs to the parking lot. It's strenuous for a casual walk, but if you're prepared for a hike, it's a lot of fun.

But I digress...

The first time B.B. and I went there, back in the fall of 2009, probably late November, it was cool, but not cold, there weren't too many people there, and the leaves were almost completely gone from the trees. The thing about these trails is they are very easy to follow and see most of the year, but that time of year, just after all the leaves have fallen, it's a little difficult in some places to tell where the trail goes. Sure, there are markers on trees every 100' or so, and mostly the woods are thick enough to dissuade you from accidentally stepping off the beaten path, but there were a few places where the trees opened up and with a fresh blanket of leaves all over everything, the trail literally could have gone in a dozen different directions. There were a couple times where I had to stop and think about it.

But B.B. knew exactly where to go. Of course she did. She was following the scent of thousands of shoes and boots that had walked there in the past, so she just marked on and led the way. I wasn't too worried about getting lost. I grew up in the woods and have a decent sense of direction and space, but it was charming to see her constantly turn where the trail turned, zig where it zigged, zag where it zagged. That was a spectacular day. We made it back to the car about an hour and a half later exhausted and exhilarated, all at the same time. We've been back dozens (not quite hundreds) of times since and we've explored many of the trails (most of them in the lower, Reedy Creek section), but that is still my favorite.

So today I decided to walk our old favorite. We hit the trail head and headed down the switch backs and ended up at the river soon enough. Today, though, we were alone. Usually we see lots of people down by the river bank playing on the rocks. I usually just say "Hi" and walk by, leaving them alone, but I've always thought it sure looked like fun to sit on a rock and enjoy the smells and sounds of the water rushing by. As a kid, we used to take trips up to the mountains in western North Carolina (or eastern Tennessee) and we'd invariably find a river or stream to explore. The most fun I had as a child during those little adventures was navigating my way from one bank across to the other by hopping from stone to stone. This river (or creek, whatever) doesn't have nearly enough stones to make it across, but there are a number of good boulders lined down the sides for sitting. So we sat.

Which is to say, I sat and B.B. plopped down and proceeded to squirm her way right into the water. I let her jump around a bit (she loves to swim) and explore to the length of our 6' leash until we realized that the algae-covered rocks made it difficult for her to get back up. After a few failed attempts, furry paws comically churning on the green rock surface to no avail, she sort of stood/sat in the water and just looked at me as if to say, "Well, I'm stumped. You're going to have to come and get me."

So I did. We tried again, with me pulling on the leash just to get her within reach, and then I grabbed the considerable scruff around her neck (she has handfuls of extra skin underneath all of that fur) and pulled her up until I could reach her arms. By then she was on solid (and non-slippery) ground. She shook most of the river water right onto me and settled down. We sat for about 15 minutes just soaking up the nature. Funny, but that's all it took to reset the world's cup to being half full again.

With B.B. still a damp mess, we picked ourselves up and walked down the trail, opting to head down to Reedy Creek Lake and up the bike trail back to the car instead of navigating those switch backs again. I wish I'd gotten some shots of B.B. in the water, but it's hard enough to hang onto a leash with a swimming dog at the other end (the current is pretty intense right there and I didn't dare let go) without having to pull a cell phone out of my pocket and work the camera. Maybe I could have gotten a shot post-swim, but if you've seen one wet and bedraggled dog, you've seen them all.

Funny. I was the sopping mess going into the park. B.B. was the mess coming out. She unburdened me, like she always does, then shook it off and marched on. As a metaphor, she really inspires.