Floods, Muds, and Blisters - 8.6 miles

An iconic Twin Cities Bridge--now hikeable.

We are making the final practice hikes for our trip to Scotland and England since we board our plane in twelve days. This Memorial Day weekend, Team Roger is taking four days in a row of long-ish hikes to identify and tweak/fix the last equipment and body-conditioning issues we have. Like blisters.  Like "Do we need to bring gaiters after all because we now have to cross this flooded path?" Like "I forgot to put the towel back in my pack and my feet are wet."

Friday of Memorial Day weekend, the four of us went to one of our favorite Minneapolis metro hiking places--Mound Springs Park beside the old Cedar Avenue Bridge. Twin Cities, Minnesota locals will recognize the iconic structure, and if they're old enough will remember driving on it across the Minnesota River and praying not to scrape the side mirror off the car (yup, did that). 

The old Cedar Ave. Bridge from the new Cedar Ave. Bridge

The trails adjacent to the bridge and the banks of the River are twisty and green and rolling but have no steep hills (there are no mountains in Minneapolis). It's a really pretty area and we planned to get in six or seven miles. But it's been a rainy spring and about the time things start to dry out, we get another rainy weekend. Guess what happens to a river when it rains a lot. Then guess what happens to trails next to that river. 

The park area is beautiful but wet this year.

Rhetorical questions, of course. Cap did his best but was thwarted several times when our trail disappeared under a rippling pond and we had to backtrack. Normally that would have been nothing but a minor course correction, but our Betty has several toe blisters that are healing and they were not happy with the changes. Fortunately she has good blister protection. Unfortunately, the hiking fairies were feeling like pranksters. 

This was supposed to be our trail

At the seven mile mark, with only a mile or so to go, we believed we were home free. The river was well within its banks and the path we were trekking was solid packed dirt. We were in single file on the wooded path when we all heard Cap mutter "This isn't good."

It wasn't. The path ahead was swamped all the way to the river on our right as far ahead as we could see. To our left, what was supposed to be a trail bike path was a ten-inch-deep creek. With sinking hearts we knew there were two choices. Find a way to cross the stream (higher than our boot tops) or back track and add five more miles. 

Betty & Cap: shoe removal

Betty's toes made our decision. We found a spot where the ground on the opposite side was firm and took off our boots and socks. Scout crossed first and announced it was not mucky or difficult. I (Babs) went next and agreed. After that Betty and Cap waded together into the water, hoping Betty's blister bandage would stay on--it didn't. After everyone was safely across, I discovered I had removed the towel from my backpack and was stuck sitting on a log with muddy feet. BUT! I had an extra pair of socks in my pack so the old ones got used to wipe feet and comfy dry socks took their place. Cap couldn't care less about putting socks on damp feet. Scout and Betty hadn't forgotten their towels. Within ten minutes we were booted up again and ready to finish.

Crossing together

Not deep but a little chilly

 

Scout: mud removal & shoe replacement

 

 

 

First, however, we had to go cross country to find the trail again. Walking through grass, weeds, and low-hanging branches is not Betty's favorite thing about hiking, as I hinted at yesterday. If you remember, there's a mantra: "I'm fine. This is good. This is fine. I'm okay." That helps keeps ticks at bay, in case you aren't familiar with the ritual. 

 Finally all of us bad-ass, creek-fording, cross-hikers made it back to the trail and found we had less than a mile to the end. We'd definitely made the right choice not to turn back. We might still be walking.

 

Sweet Canada geese family.

 

The hike payoff--reaching The Bridge

In the end we hiked nearly nine miles. Betty had a last traumatic experience when one rude wood tick ignored the mantra spell and hitched a ride on the back of her neck. In this group, however, it's all for one and one for all and we're nothing if not supportive. A thorough hair check, back check, and underarm check later, we convinced our girl she had not been bitten and wouldn't have a Lyme's Disease relapse. We enjoyed some baby Canada geese, made it back across the old bridge and finally  ended our hike the way we always do -- eating back most of the calories we spent hiking on a great burger and fries. Because, after all, we also have to train for all the great Pub Food we plan to find in Scotland!