Apparently the state park had their funding cut - none of the trails were groomed, like they have been every year since I've been going there for the past twenty years. So we followed footprints and talked non-stop, Lebowski peeing on every third rock or tree.
And with Catherine an hour seems like twenty minutes. She's a very interesting person. At about an hour and a half I started looking around and realized I kinda sorta knew where we were, but not for certain. I checked my watch - 2:30p, so we had plenty of daylight.
At two hours, walking through a foot of snow, ducking under tree branches, I couldn't stop laughing. Every "Mother Macree" from Catherine made me laugh. And now Lebowski was still lifting his leg on the rocks and trees but he had nothing left. And I realized in this over-connected, wired for everything, networked-each-second world, we were lost. No humans, no technology, just snow, trees, and our companionship.
It felt great. And humbling. Nature in charge. So I pulled out a couple granola bars I had, we sat down on a tree branch (too deep in the forest for any benches), and ate our granola, Lebowski on Catherine's lap. Lebowski got his share.
And then we got up and headed off again. A couple trails travelled twice. Looking at the sun for direction, we went intuitively on our way, and eventually picked up a trail I knew. And eventually saw other people. We sat on a bench, relaxing after our 3-hour adventure. When you see an 8-year old girl in a pink 'Hello Kitty' coat you know you're back in civilization.
Catherine travels well. At our deepest lostness, nary a complaint. She was fun. And she wasn't going to need to go to Bally's after. Lebowski had a ball, probably slept like a log last night.
Legs still humming, I relished the retreat deep into nowhere.
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