Happy Place 1

Hiking pants, socks, boots and a base layer, that’s all I need to put on when Callie, my medium sized brindle, starts to get excited. Does she recognize the clothes or sense my excitement as well, knowing I am getting ready for a short adventure outside? I say, “where’s your leash?” and she whines, barks, runs back and forth to the front door in anticipation. On leash, we walk through our backyard on to Dungeon Trail, a trail known to me in childhood as a haunted trail, in teen years as a place to hide away and sneak a smoke or beer and as a young adult a shortcut to a friend’s house, walked in the dark after leaving a wedding at the hotel. Now I laugh at these memories, smile and think about the comfort it brings to be in familiar territory.

Off leash after we pass the hospital trail, the part of Dungeon Trail that feels isolated except for the sound of cars racing on the TCH, Callie darts ahead of me, stops, turns to look at me for approval, then veers off the trail in to the woods. I lose sight of her but know she will pop out somewhere eventually. Starting to relax I admire the way the trees circle the trail and feel like a tunnel…. or maybe…. a “dungeon”. There’s a little brook across the trail close to the exit, an easy little stride leap to avoid wet boots, I think, on the way back I may not stride, just step in and enjoy squishy boots for the last bit of the walk home.

At the end of this trail, on leash, we walk to the edge of the TCH, cars passing by, I hardly know they are there. I’m not on the edge of the highway trying to cross the road between speeding cars, I’m on my way to peace, my mind has already gone there. A short walk on the other side of the highway, a jaunt through a small parking lot and a dip down the last bit of pavement behind the tourist chalet and I am there, looking at the lake, from the top of a small hill where kids are sometimes sliding in the winter. Callie, off leash again now, runs to the puddle in the dip at the bottom of this hill, she always tries to swim in the puddle, why doesn’t she learn it is not deep enough? Her belly hits bottom and I laugh every time as she paddles anyway. How does she know which clothes I put on mean we are walking to the lake but she doesn’t know that puddle is not a swimming spot!

After passing a disappointed, depth confused Callie, at the bottom of this first hill having her fake swim, I think about taking one of the side trails which are gentler … but I always opt for the middle route to the lake which beckons me to run as fast as I can down the steep rock trail. We are now in the woods, away enough for me to forget about Callie, knowing she’ll be safe in her playground, following scents and returning to eyeball me every so often as she explores, I’m ready to enjoy the woods as well and descend to the lake. Huge sigh, a melting through my neck, shoulders, arms as I look down the rock trail, over the tree line and the view of Gander Lake in the distance, knowing I will be there soon…. running that steep hill is nerve racking but I rarely resist the temptation, a scattered time I may walk… part of it…. usually I just run or lean forward and let the hill take me, trying to control my movement as the speed builds, each step thoughtfully choreographed to keep me upright but the possibility of being wrong makes me smile, watch the foot hit, I’m good, yay, watch the foot hit, I’m good, yay, watch the foot hit, I’m good, yay, watch the foot hit, I’m good, yay… can I look up?… try, yes, still safe, lake coming quick, watch the foot hit, I’m good, yay, watch the foot hit, I’m good, yay, look up, almost half way…. a flat reprieve, grassy clearing, remnants of fires and a small path in to the woods where teenagers hang out at night. Once I found two families with kids enjoying my “half way down stop”, glad to see someone besides me appreciating this place….although I do prefer to be alone on this walk as is the case, 99% of the time. Sometimes I stop for a little stretch, sometimes a few yoga poses, sometimes a few strength conditioning sets, sometimes a few pictures, sometimes a fetch with Callie…. always a stare in awe at the beauty of the view, forgetting the town not far behind me, always the thought, I should do this everyday, always grateful this is minutes from my back door.

The next half is scarier, the path is not as worn, rocks are bigger and there’s a lot of wobbly loose places to lose your footing…. watch the foot hit, I’m good, yay, watch the foot hit, I’m good, yay… watch the foot hit, I’m good, yay, watch the foot hit, I’m good, yay… wow, I’m pretty good at this, let it go, give in to the speed, almost there, watch the foot hit, I’m good, yay, watch the foot hit, I’m good, yay, watch the foot hit, I’m good, yay… AW!!!! BIG SIGHS AND PANTING!! I’m at the bottom!! …. where the three routes converge, glad I took the middle, the side trails’ gentler decent never appeal to me and I never regret the rush of the run. Call out to Callie, make sure she’s still with me, she always is. The last little path to the final climb down, a trickle of water falls in the almost vertical rock drop, spring time, a bigger rush of water, rarely dry, but close in mid July. An old rope tied to a tree on the side of the trickle, to assist with your access to lakeside; access which could lead to ass thumping if you step in the wrong place which I sometimes do. Callie takes the hard way down and before I can look up from my careful backward crawl hanging on to the old rope or brave steps forward with no rope, depending on the day, she’s already in the lake for her “real swim”. My husband added a newer rope for me one time, it disappeared…. but the old, used to be yellow one is still there. Sometimes, if not too wet or windy I try to get down without the rope, sometimes I make it without falling…. If I do fall I laugh…. once, I went back up and tried again but usually I don’t care, falling can be fun, at times, it may hurt but I haven’t been seriously injured yet so I will keep going.

Next, at lakeside, after a few short breaths listening to the waves or admiring the calm, depending on the day, I start the running of the rocks. I started doing this as a child, maybe pre teen years. When I got back and told my mother where I had been she would get upset I went there alone, foreign flight crews from the hotel on the TCH would walk there and she didn’t think it was safe for a young girl to be alone in the woods with strangers. When I was running the rocks, hopping from flat surface to edgy tips, trying to stay balanced and mapping two to three steps ahead I never thought about strangers, safety or being a young girl alone in the woods …. I was just running the rocks enjoying the sights and sounds of the never ending lake along side me, tempting fate, feeling free and indestructible, no room at all for worry…. today, it feels the same and I am happy to have a place where I feel like a young girl alone in the woods free from worry. Almost 50 years old, I don’t think I ever run the rocks as far as I used to in my youth, I do run them though and they still allow me to completely escape.

The rocks along this part of the lake are pretty big, there’s no beach as such but there are lots of large flat rocks to stop and lay down on, have a break, look at the sky, daydream, make decisions, read a book, have a lunch, listen to the sounds of nature, take a few selfies, take a nap, think about life, laugh out loud, cry loudly, cuddle Callie or rub her belly for a bit…. all of which I have done on one occasion or another. There is a large flat triangular shaped rock which is the perfect place to watch the sunset, such a spectacular feeling, you forget this happens daily and feel privileged to be present in that moment. I think to myself, I should come here everyday for sunset.

I rarely remember the walk back home, which is mostly uphill and takes much longer, back on to the lake’s pretty view, heading toward the highway, gas stations and fast food joints, ripping hamstrings, sore glutes, shin splints and the scattered achilles ache…. we will skip that part as Jason said I should write about something happy this week… close to home on Dungeon Trail again… I do step in that little brook and enjoy my squishy feet for the last leg of my happy place escape.