Our plan: run the Monument Trail, or what turned out to be our bastardized version of it (sorry trail planners), at High Point State Park. Within half a mile of starting the run, which we decided to do by heading south-ish first, my brother noticed that we were following white blazes, and not the green/red ones (how timely!) we had originally started following.
|Red and green blazes we were supposed to be following.|
“Hey!” he called out. “Are we on the Appalachian Trail?! We’re going to wind up in Georgia!”
We made our way back to the trail junction where I got derailed and then rerouted ourselves back onto the Monument Trail. Woohoo! Back on track! Oh, damn, a glacial lake…what direction do we go around this thing? Really, it could have been better marked. Just saying. After figuring out which way to go, the trail crossed a paved park road and headed back into the woods. That’s we started hitting the hills.
Hills are not my strength. Looking down at my shoes and hoping that it ends quickly is. So that’s how I noticed some neat ribbons of ice on the ground that my brother just plowed through.