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Gorge is a word somewhere between gouge and gore. This was on my mind today as I remembered the muscles that are used for nothing but hiking, that sit and atrophy all through the dark and sedentary winter months until spring, when according to some strange compulsion I seek out higher elevations and long hot walks. This weekend I went to the Eagle Creek trail with a few friends, and the weather was just incredible. We made it to Punch Bowl Falls and I gallantly said, "If you want we'll take it easy and head back now. You know, we could go a little farther. But it's our first trip of the year, so it's all right if you guys want to head back."
How big of me.
Now my shins and ass are screaming, "Yeah, that's right, we're still here! You forgot us, but we're still here! How you like us now?"
But I do recommend the hike. After some initial elevation it's pretty steady in terms of grade, which is why I took old Patchwork Knees on this one. It's nice because there are enough neat landmarks on the hike so that you don't feel like a weeny for only making it partway down the trail.
How big of me.
Now my shins and ass are screaming, "Yeah, that's right, we're still here! You forgot us, but we're still here! How you like us now?"
But I do recommend the hike. After some initial elevation it's pretty steady in terms of grade, which is why I took old Patchwork Knees on this one. It's nice because there are enough neat landmarks on the hike so that you don't feel like a weeny for only making it partway down the trail.