I just came back from a 90-minute walk with my neighbour Nora and her chihuahua, Chico. We drove up to our favourite "mountain" trail, only to find it closed due to construction! (No doubt they are clearcutting the mountain for more unspeakably ugly housing.) So we tried this other trail a little way back, which was not really a proper trail. We nearly died hiking up a very steep hill (cardiac arrest, anyone?), then at the top we found the back of a golf course (complete with golfers; yep, in BC you can golf all year) and what looked like a real trail, bushwhacked by some eager beaver, with a few markers to confirm the fact that yes, this ground had been trodden before by human feet.
We walked along the path for ages through some very pretty forest, and finally started heading downhill. Nora said, "Maybe we should turn back!" and I said, "Nah, it's going back down to the road!" I was determined not to backtrack. Never surrender, I say! Always go forward.
So we walked all the way down the precarious path and hit.... the raging creek. And the "bridge" someone had fashioned out of old planks had washed out and was stuck downstream. We looked and looked for another way to cross the creek, but no luck! Finally, we reluctantly decided to head back up the hill. But then I decided to take one last look along the water's edge, and suddenly noticed a huge tree that someone had positioned as a makeshift bridge about three or four feet over the creek.
I volunteered to carry Chico across, as he would have been swept away by the current. The huge tree turned out to be VERY slippery, coated in moss and ice and muck, so I rejected a tightrope walk in favour of sliding across on my butt, hoping I wouldn't slither off into the cold water below. I zippered Chico up in my jacket so my hands would be free (chihuahua papoose! He was SO good; not a peep and no squirming!) and proceeded to slide across, making my butt very wet and very muddy and very cold. Nora gamely followed suit. Damn it, we were NOT going back up that mountain.
We made it across without falling in, and we popped out at the road almost right where we'd left the car. I was very proud of my navigational skills, somewhat less proud of my sodden ass. But we had fun and a good laugh!
Despite changing my clothes, I still smell strangely earthy.