Two Hearts … Be Living In Just One Pair Of Cleats - February 27, 2021
Having a Sunshine story requires a minimum of three things.
1. Something has to happen.
2. The thing that happens has to go wrong.
3. The thing that went wrong must be laughable-atable.
Having our wings clipped by covid (and because we’re not exactly Antarctic explorers anyways) means not much happens. Though there are still a few moments of STUPIDITY in any week. Here are some from Friday.
Hubs and I are coming to understand that we need a different list stuck to the door for every outing. Especially when we go hiking. On Friday, before heading off to the Dundas Conservation area, about 60 km away, we did our usual verbal check:
Water √
Lunches √
Snack bars √
Cell phone √
Mp3 player filled with podcasts (Jan) √
Kleenex (Jan) √
Hankies (Laur) √
Change of shirt (Laur) √
Poles – in the car
Extra mitts √
Extra socks √
Wallet with Dundas Conservation Area Pass (Laur) √
Keys (Laur) √
Glasses (Jan) √
Book to read in the car (Jan) √
As you can read, it’s quite an extensive list. Still, it felt like we’d forgotten something. We chalked it up to not having Jasper with us because – other than getting groceries – that is our only other outing.
About halfway to the conservation area, Laur yells “Son of a biscuit-maker!” I said, “What?!” You are likely thinking that is an unusual exclamation, but a) Laur does his best not to swear and b) Friday was “For Pete’s Sake” Day – a day for being really aware of your language!
Anyhoo, Laur said, “I forgot the cleats! Sugar! I’m an idiot!” It’s a good thing that it wasn’t me who forgot the cleats. There would have been more expletives, like “Jumping Jehoshaphat, Jan! How could you possibly forget those!” And to be fair, I hadn’t thought of them either. I promptly stuck my nose back in a book subtitled “Underdogs and Misfits!” Gotta support my tribe!
Next challenge, the usual road we take was blocked off – limited to local use only. Laur made a variety of hand gestures to the constructions workers and they waved him on. Hubs speaks construction. A story for another time.
Finally we got to the gate and there was a line-up. It’s self check-in admittance. Never a good idea when most of your clientele are seniors. The person three cars ahead of us had no luck and had to back out. Gah!
The person two cars ahead of us parked yards away from the kiosk and had to get out to insert her Mastercard and then make a flying leap into her car so as not to lose her “swipe.”
The next person could not make her card work. After about eight attempts, she tried another card. And eureka! The gate finally opened.
We held our breath as Laur swiped our membership card … It worked! … We were in! I was, I confess, expecting a different outcome. It felt like one of those days when the universe as conspiring against us. Which is silly. We’re not that important. Why conspire against us?
When we went to get out our poles, we found ONE set of cleats – a size large. Hmm. Laur put one on his left foot and I put one on my right. This was in case some of the trails were icy. I would walk on the left hand side and walk with my cleated foot on the ice and my other in the snow, slush, or whatever. Laur would do the equivalent on the other side.
Said I to Laur, “Good grief! Not only do we share a brain, but we also now share a pair of cleats.”
I would love to tell you that the paths were mostly flat and not icy at all. Actually, no I wouldn’t. It wouldn’t make for a good story. You should have seen the two of us walking as if one leg was half an inch shorter than the other and somewhat out of service. At one point I walked right out of my cleat and we had to back track some distance to find it. Laur found a strap in his backpack and tied it back on but good.
You might think going up the hills would be the most challenging part. But it’s not. The fall forward is more controlled. But sliding down a hill, the fall can be pretty dramatic. I said to hubs, “That was definitely worse than some of the bushwhacking we’ve done in Arizona.” How quickly I forgot tripping and sliding around Bushmaster Peak!
[Note from Laur: Or down Sprat Ridge in a hailstorm! It could easily have become Splat Ridge!]
We did get back to the car and back to St. Catharines. I reminded hubs that “one of us” had to pick up medication at the pharmacy so we did a wee detour. I won’t say who had to pick up medication but that person didn’t bother to wear their coat – it was too warm. And when that person got back to the car, they looked down and realized their shirt was on backwards. And obviously so!
I have visions of the pharmacy assistant quoting former Prime Minister Jean Chretien – who was in favour of National Pharmacare – to her coworkers, “There's no pill against STUPIDITY!”
1. Something has to happen.
2. The thing that happens has to go wrong.
3. The thing that went wrong must be laughable-atable.
Having our wings clipped by covid (and because we’re not exactly Antarctic explorers anyways) means not much happens. Though there are still a few moments of STUPIDITY in any week. Here are some from Friday.
Hubs and I are coming to understand that we need a different list stuck to the door for every outing. Especially when we go hiking. On Friday, before heading off to the Dundas Conservation area, about 60 km away, we did our usual verbal check:
Water √
Lunches √
Snack bars √
Cell phone √
Mp3 player filled with podcasts (Jan) √
Kleenex (Jan) √
Hankies (Laur) √
Change of shirt (Laur) √
Poles – in the car
Extra mitts √
Extra socks √
Wallet with Dundas Conservation Area Pass (Laur) √
Keys (Laur) √
Glasses (Jan) √
Book to read in the car (Jan) √
As you can read, it’s quite an extensive list. Still, it felt like we’d forgotten something. We chalked it up to not having Jasper with us because – other than getting groceries – that is our only other outing.
About halfway to the conservation area, Laur yells “Son of a biscuit-maker!” I said, “What?!” You are likely thinking that is an unusual exclamation, but a) Laur does his best not to swear and b) Friday was “For Pete’s Sake” Day – a day for being really aware of your language!
Anyhoo, Laur said, “I forgot the cleats! Sugar! I’m an idiot!” It’s a good thing that it wasn’t me who forgot the cleats. There would have been more expletives, like “Jumping Jehoshaphat, Jan! How could you possibly forget those!” And to be fair, I hadn’t thought of them either. I promptly stuck my nose back in a book subtitled “Underdogs and Misfits!” Gotta support my tribe!
Next challenge, the usual road we take was blocked off – limited to local use only. Laur made a variety of hand gestures to the constructions workers and they waved him on. Hubs speaks construction. A story for another time.
Finally we got to the gate and there was a line-up. It’s self check-in admittance. Never a good idea when most of your clientele are seniors. The person three cars ahead of us had no luck and had to back out. Gah!
The person two cars ahead of us parked yards away from the kiosk and had to get out to insert her Mastercard and then make a flying leap into her car so as not to lose her “swipe.”
The next person could not make her card work. After about eight attempts, she tried another card. And eureka! The gate finally opened.
We held our breath as Laur swiped our membership card … It worked! … We were in! I was, I confess, expecting a different outcome. It felt like one of those days when the universe as conspiring against us. Which is silly. We’re not that important. Why conspire against us?
When we went to get out our poles, we found ONE set of cleats – a size large. Hmm. Laur put one on his left foot and I put one on my right. This was in case some of the trails were icy. I would walk on the left hand side and walk with my cleated foot on the ice and my other in the snow, slush, or whatever. Laur would do the equivalent on the other side.
Said I to Laur, “Good grief! Not only do we share a brain, but we also now share a pair of cleats.”
I would love to tell you that the paths were mostly flat and not icy at all. Actually, no I wouldn’t. It wouldn’t make for a good story. You should have seen the two of us walking as if one leg was half an inch shorter than the other and somewhat out of service. At one point I walked right out of my cleat and we had to back track some distance to find it. Laur found a strap in his backpack and tied it back on but good.
You might think going up the hills would be the most challenging part. But it’s not. The fall forward is more controlled. But sliding down a hill, the fall can be pretty dramatic. I said to hubs, “That was definitely worse than some of the bushwhacking we’ve done in Arizona.” How quickly I forgot tripping and sliding around Bushmaster Peak!
[Note from Laur: Or down Sprat Ridge in a hailstorm! It could easily have become Splat Ridge!]
We did get back to the car and back to St. Catharines. I reminded hubs that “one of us” had to pick up medication at the pharmacy so we did a wee detour. I won’t say who had to pick up medication but that person didn’t bother to wear their coat – it was too warm. And when that person got back to the car, they looked down and realized their shirt was on backwards. And obviously so!
I have visions of the pharmacy assistant quoting former Prime Minister Jean Chretien – who was in favour of National Pharmacare – to her coworkers, “There's no pill against STUPIDITY!”