Thursday, August 09, 2007

Twisted

It was a week of punishments. My hiking boots had seen the slot canyons of Zion. Trekked up the vertical trail of the upper pools. I had scrambled down into caves, over rocks, down into the canyon floor, to the top of the grand staircase. Driving over 700 miles across Utah, Arizona and Nevada was a mere drop in the bucket. Stones and cliffs could not stop me.


No, I am mountain goat! Hear me...bleet.


I had hiked all week. Explored every inch of the natural wonders of Utah and finally I reached the end of the trek. The final leg. The North Rim of the Grand Canyon was a mere five feet away. Just beyond the path was the great expanse of that world wonder. Just a few steps away, nothing compared to miles I had racked up in the days previously.


And I stepped.


And I tripped.


And my ankle twisted.


I had made it the entire trip with not a single blemish. I was healthy, happy. No sunburn, no blisters, no injuries. Not even a single bite from a mosquito. Heck, I hadn't even broken a nail! And now, now as I limped over to the edge of the Grand Canyon I realized I'd just been done in by an uneven sidewalk under a gazebo.


Now that's twisted.



And my ankle hurts.

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