Yesterday's hike was extremely humid and buggy. I lost count of the number of gnats that flew directly into my eyeballs after 10. The trails through Greylock Glen were barely marked and involved a lot of slogging thru 4-foot high weeds. Mary got guilted into a visit with her mom, so I was on my own. When I finally got to the top of Ragged Mountain, a spritely 70-year-old hiker dude greeted me. "Looks like we're in for a doozy today!" Storm clouds surrounded us and obscured the view of Mt. Greylock directly to our west. He was off down Bellows Pipe trail to another vista, but "if I hear thunder, I'm gonna lose elevation fast, that's for sure!" I took the remnants of an old ski trail called "Thunderbolt" back down the mountain. Apropos, since there was indeed a lot of rumbling. I was never quite so happy to see my car—and the extra shirt I'd brought to change into.
1 comment:
glad you made it safe and sound!
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