I'm about to tell you a story that is not very flattering to me. So remember that the next time you think I'm a blogger with a perfect life. So not.
As you remember, on day 5 we went to Lost Lake. There was a perfect little meadow there filled with wildflowers and from this meadow there sprung a trail to yet another lake. I wanted to see the lake and take pictures, but I took a lot of pictures in the meadow, so the main hiking group was quite a bit ahead of me.
Let's just call that group: Those Who Left Me To Die.
Not really. I didn't die. [Spoiler alert.]
What I did was follow them, with Chesney by my side, down the path. We came to an area where Dan waited for me because there was a single railroad tie covering what I have taken to calling a mud hole. It was mud and it was deep and it was nasty. I am not the most agile of hikers -- and had already fallen once at Garden of the Gods -- so Dan thought it a good idea to warn me about it and then trudge onward.
I started across, with my camera slung across my body, my iPhone stuck in my hoodie front pocket. I slipped. Because of course I did. My left foot went into the mud. My shoe stayed there. Losing my shoe in icky mud threw me even further off balance. I tried to stop myself from falling. I screamed several times.
I drew that little diagram just for you, my blog readers. Just to help you visualize it a little bit.
This is the after. I'm reading Hyperbole and a Half as I'm writing this and I knew I could not do myself justice using Paint, so I "borrowed" one of Allie's self-portraits as a stand in for me. And then I painted some mud on me. Because I was in a lot of mud. I fell on my left side (which happens to be the side where I have recurring sciatica issues). As I landed in the mud, I tried to keep my camera out of the mud.
So let's visualize this using my handy diagram. Kim has one shoe off, stuck in the mud. She is laying completely on her left side in a mud hole. She is holding the most precious technology she owns. And she's a bit embarrassed because it takes a great talent to completely fall into a mud hole. All my friends had just passed through the same area not long before and they all managed to successfully cross said railroad tie.
Dan was a smart husband and came running back to help me when he heard me scream. Plus, he wasn't that far ahead of me since he'd stayed behind to warn me about the mudhole. I gave him the camera and phone because I knew I was physically mostly OK but I was worried about my precious.
And then I started laughing like a loon.
Those Who Left Me to Die heard me scream, but then heard me laugh, so they decided I'd been scared by a random animal or something and then laughed at myself... so they went on without me.
I crawled out of the mud, retrieved my once pink shoe, and walked lopsided back towards the vehicle. Along the way, I found the group of good friends who worried about hearing a scream in the wilderness (as opposed to Those Who Left Me To Die), and told them I was mostly OK but a little shaken up. They went on hiking because seriously, I did not need a lot of attention paid to the fact that half my body was covered in wet, cold mud.
We got to the truck and used water bottles and paper towels to clean the phone and camera as much as we safely could. As soon as I was sure my phone was working, I had Chesney take some pictures:
You can kind of see my other shoe sitting on the tailgate. It was full of mud. Not just covered, but full of mud.
Since hiking was now out of the question, I hobbled to a concrete curb and sat and watched the lake. Took this photo of my legs/shoe:
And then took this selfie:
I sat on a poncho on the way back to town and climbed in the shower as soon as I could. We had some laundry to do that night.