Peeking into the rock

For years I have had my grandfather's cane. It is very old, made by Abercrombie and Fitch when they were a sporting goods store (does anybody remember that first hand? James Thurber wrote a hilarious piece about wanting to buy javelins from there). It's a special kind that has a double handle that folds open to turn into a narrow seat which the bearer can lean up against when taking a break. It's made of metal with the handles in leather and the seat in sturdy cloth. It looks like this one, actually. I meant to take it to Prague last summer "just in case" but I forgot. There were times I wished I had it with me.

The thing is that I had never used it. I keep thinking it might be useful for hiking but I don't want to give up on my own two feet yet. But honestly, I'm not hiking very much, and I am avoiding going to some of the best places because my arthritic knees don't feel up to going up and especially down hills. So I've been thinking about just trying out the cane to see if it makes those places more accessible.

Today I had my chance. Despite the considerable rain, Emma and Keith and I decided to go up to Butano State Park (the other side of Pescadero on the Pescadero Road) to catch the tail end of the newt migration. I figured I'd bring along the cane as a pilot project and see how it affected my confidence and stability (and therefore my range) on the trails in the park. They are not super long or horrendously steep but they are slippery at this time of year and I have been a bit squeamish about that kind of thing.

Spoiler alert: there is no downside except I have to juggle the cane if I need two hands, for example taking photos. That can extended my range by two or three hundred percent. I mean I went at least three times as far, maybe more, and always felt confident, though I had to pay attention going downhill. Of course what this means is that, because I was going farther and faster, tghose muscles I was afraid of coddling were getting more of a workout than they otherwise would. And it was so nice to go up a hill in wet weather again. I love wet weather and being a wuss about it because of a fear of falling and a fear of just not being able to walk right did not sit right with me.

As for the park -- just as beautiful as I remembered it, even with the drought. The creek meanders through a stand of redwoods, and the little newts are scrambling all over the duff at this time. Because it is near to the end of their season, the ones we saw seemed to be largely leaving the water. They go to the water to find mates and lay their eggs and then they go back into the duff to live the rest of the year in the quiet, moist undisturbed corners of the forest. They live a long time for such little guys -- they're about the length of your palm.

Before we went to the park we stopped at the bakery in Pescadero and got artichoke bread, various deli veggies, cheese and meat. Because it was wet we ate in Emma's car, but on nice days we will sometimes eat in the picnic area behind the bakery. It was altogether an excellent day. Probably we should have stopped at Swanton for berry jam or tarts or something, but that's for another day, I guess.

In my future: lots more hiking! With my grandfather's cane I can go anywhere.