It was still in the 20s when I took this photoooo this morning. Last weekend we drove by a metropark that was not on our radar screen and, after much difficulty using the metropark website, I finally pulled up a PDF map with a bunch of trails on it. I could not get the Moraine Fen trail out of my head and so we headed up there this morning. Pretty little trail (2.3 miles or something like that). Beaten path but NO BLAZES whatsoever. You’d think that would be okay since the trail was so well worn. Problem? Intersections! There were a few and twice we got off onto spurs that, well, were not part of the trail. It was okay. It looks like wilderness but we were in a pretty contained area bounded by roads, we had a good phone signal, and we could actually hear traffic on US23, so we were not really out in the tootlies like we often are when we hike the North Country Trail. But “our” sections of the NCT are very well blazed and maintained and I kept conjuring up visions of our NCT friends tsking about the lack of blazes and the condition of the trail in general. Still, it was fun and we did not see *anyone* while we were hiking, despite the proximity to the freeway.

The rest of the day was kinda like watching paint dry so go somewhere else! I rather reluctantly put out my Santa Collection (more on that in another post, maybe) and picked away at a bit of flinging. Folks, I am kind of getting to the end of flinging my clothing. If you look at my half of the closet, there really isn’t that much. I got rid of a few more things today. I kept the things that I wear *all* the time and a few nostalgic items. One black/metallic silver sweater I used to wear back in the day. I’m sure it would still fit after a fashion but it doesn’t look the same. A black/metallic silver sweater of Radical Betty’s… In many ways I am not like Radical Betty but we definitely received a few of the same bits of DNA.

We drove down to the river to take a Sunset Walk at our fave Barton Dam Trail in the late afternoon. The sun sets at around five these days. I sure hope the woman with the strong Russian (?) accent found her destination. The one who summoned us to her vee-hickle to ask how to get to a nearby nursing home / rehab facility. We spent some time with her and I hope she made it to her destination but I’m not sure if she did and in the end, I just wanted to get outta there. Why did this woman not have a goddamn GPS in her Caddy-lac veehickle?

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