Dry way or the highway: version 2

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On a big scale, a dry hill path is a worry. Fire risk. Global warming. All that.

But it’s easier to walk down a dry path than a wet path. In the wet, you’re constantly grabbing branches to stop yourself slipping and falling. It’s a bit tricky.

In dry conditions, one hazard remains: you must not plant your foot unthinkingly on those small gravel patches. They can act like ball bearings and hurl you off your feet and on to your back. Hasn’t happened to me, but to a friend. Ambulance, specialty ambulance, stretcher, hoist, topped by six weeks before her torn tissues healed.

So I trod with care down Mt Victoria today.

I think … about metaphors… about ageing.

4 thoughts on “Dry way or the highway: version 2

  1. And you make me think about metaphors…about aging.I took a hard fall while hiking in July and am still recovering from the jarred skeleton with displaced bones and groin sprain/tear that resulted. Though I have experienced both mud-slick paths and loose gravel on hard, dried surfaces, I’ve managed to save myself. My downfall was a buried rock with one tip projecting that I didn’t notice on a steep downhill. My toe caught and I face-planted hard. The miracle was, I didn’t hit my head and no bones broke. But just two weeks ago, my doctor and physical therapist told me I could increase my walks on level ground at a moderate pace to a mile. If all goes well, next week I can do a mile and a half. It has been a long, slow, painful process. So please, trod with care, Rachel.

    1. That sounds like a really, really bad one. Face plants are all very nasty when you’re in your 50s (my son, avid mountain biker, does it annually) and so much worse in later years. I groaned aloud on hearing about those injuries! Thank heaven at last you can move a bit more freely and further afield. It’s utterly infuriating for an active person to be grounded. With this as a cautionary tale, I will for sure tread with care! Happy flat-walking!

  2. I’m often unbalanced in the garden and take plenty of tumbles in the bush. My tail bone and I are becoming really close. I sometimes think in middle age I’ve reverted to the top heaviness of toddlerhood only the heavy is in the middle and I’m having to readjust to moving my not-so-svelte new shape.

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