It's that time of year again.
Where I go hiking.
And have epic failures.
This year, it was going on a hike that was supposed to be two hours ... that ended up being six hours.
Don't blame me, though. It's what the map said.
That dirty little liar.
We decided to hike to Old Ephraim's Grave. Old Ephraim was a bear that roamed the mountains here in good ol' Logan. He apparently liked to eat ALL the sheep and everything else he could get his dirty paws on. People from far and wide tried to put an end to his destruction for over a decade.
And when they finally did, they measured him to being almost 10 feet tall!
But all of that is beside the point.
The point is my six hour hike. Mm-k?
By the time we reached this sign, we had already hiked three miles. Goody gum drops.
The hike wasn't too strenuous. Just long.
It was difficult not to burst out into "The hills are alive ..." while twirling around.
But I successfully constrained myself.
And we eventually got there. :)
I liked the idea of hiking to something and reaching a destination.
Given, a destination of food would have been more preferred. But I enjoyed the hike anyway. :)
I was utterly exhausted when I got home. And filthy.
Fortunately, I consider the success of a hike by two things: 1. If I lived and 2. How dirty I get.
So, while an epic failure of time estimation, everything else was fantastic.
I finished up Memorial Day with a BBQ in the backyard and loved it.
Oh, and an epic sunburn as well.
Four extra hours in the sun than prepared for will do that to ya.
P.S. I love my shirt. And I will have more to say about it later. :)