The first time I fell that day was from a wooden bridge.
Frank and I were hiking the Quinsam River Trail located a short drive from our home. I was feeling invigorated surrounded by
the massive tall trees, some with canopies that blocked the warm sun, others
slim, some covered in green moss. We heard the gurgling river beside us and
stopped to watch the fish jumping and splashing. They seemed excited to be
engulfed in the clear, fast moving stream.
I stomped over a wooden bridge, came to its end and jumped
off. The distance proved too much for me. I crashed to my knees; pushed out my
arms to keep from falling flat and felt rocks sting my hands.
“Are you okay?” Frank said. He rushed to my side and helped
me stand.
I was embarrassed, hurt and angry at not being as agile as I
used to be.
I lifted my trousers and saw blood on both knees. I let the
fabric fall and pressed forward along the path.
The chirping birds, acrobatic fish and pleasant forest
fragrances calmed my nerves as I strolled cautiously along the trail. I drew in
a deep breath and let it out slowly. I didn’t want the tingling sensation in my
knees to detract from adventures on the second trail. We turned off the Quinsam
Nature Trail onto Beaver Pond Trail. It took us away from the river, deep into
the forest and onto Elk Falls Provincial Park road. A massive log on its side
that had trees growing from it attracted me. I stepped closer, my left foot
twisted on its side and I fell to my knees. I landed hard on both hands.
Frank lifted me to my feet, put his hand on my back and a
guided me to a nearby concrete barrier. He sat me down and prepared what he
called a field dressing. He tenderly applied tissue held down with duct
tape on my aching knees. We laughed and hugged.
“Third time’s the charm,” he said. We laughed louder and
left for home.
Quinsam River Trail Head |
Bridges, Obstacles and Precious Views |
Trees with curious features |
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