A lot of people are wondering why the sun hasn’t so much as peeked through the thick overcast sky for 6 straight days (and, well, nights) now.  My fault.  I take the blame.  In preparation for the upcoming trip which promises to be my undoing, I got to dabbling in some Black Magic and cast a powerful, ancient spell that conjured thick heavy clouds and blotted out the sun.  The ritual is called, “I installed a solar panel on the roof of the Phantom Rambler 7 days ago and need some fucking sunlight to see if I hooked it up properly…SonuvaBITCH!”  (pic related) 

But my pre-trip preparations have not been limited to the mystical arts and shaking hands with the devil.  No.

After a casual examination of my lifestyle I realized that my current occupation involves driving all day — much of that driving time is done in a seated position.  My relaxation and recreation periods involve, for the most part, watching re-runs of “That Girl”  eating Cheez-Its and glaring at Binx while sitting in my big, comfy chair.  That activity is done in a modified seated position (reclined).  I began to suspect I had grown sedentary.  Upon closer examination I could see that the only real exercise I get is lifting one of my eyebrows every time my wife, Trixie, tells me something “interesting”.  While not exactly strenuous, I do log quite a few reps every day.

My feet, were soft and blister-free and something had to be done about that.  I laced up my hiking boots and tackled the 5.2 mile perimeter trail at Greenbelt Park.  I wanted to get some fresh air and commune with nature.  I encountered vicious wildlife and carnivorous (probably) flora (I got my calf caught in a sticker bush).

My first harrowing encounter occurred about 4 miles into my hike.  The giant blisters on the pads of my feet made it feel like I was walking on a waterbed.  The incident was alertly captured on video by yours truly.  I recommend watching it….here:

About a quarter mile later, word had spread to all the woodland critters that a large, possibly wounded (judging from the rasping scrape of his labored breathing and the squishing sound his feet made ever time he took a step) human was prime for the picking and I found myself surrounded by the teeming horde of feral beasts.  This one while captured on video, doesn’t carry the label of “alertly” because we may have let slip something not so nice about Trixie.   Therefore we don’t so much recommend viewing it.  Do what you must, of course.  It is here: