Cuts and Hucks

Blame it on my PT.  I caught more cutthroat trout and picked more huckleberries then I logged miles in August and early September.  Guess I heeded his advice about recovery from a painful injury.  “Go fishing” were his exact words.  010_4.JPG.scaled1000So once I could hobble down the trail I did just that.  Incorporating 4 hikes into high mountain lakes proved productive.  Very productive.

On one particular solo outing I took a wrong turn, corrected my direction and landed at this no-name lake late in the day.  The cuts were hitting and hitting hard.  They didn’t care about the time of day.  Maybe I shouldn’t either. As I noticed the sunlight beginning to fade, I loaded my pack and upon turning to leave realized I had walked into a very large patch of ripe huckleberries.  Purple gold as they are affectionately called.  If you have tasted these tiny berries loaded with flavor you need no further explanation.  If you have never had the opportunity to dine on such delicacies, the sticker shock on jams, jellies and other huckleberry products you find at the local grocery store may come as a surprise.  If you have spent a day picking these purple nuggets the prices are justified.  I ate (rather inhaled) as many as I could. Probably looked like a bear in a feeding frenzy prior to hibernation.  You know you have been at it awhile when your fingers and lips turn purple.

Fishing high mountain lakes can be a test of patience.  Most lakes fish fickle at best. On three of my outings I hammered (slayed) the cuts – catching many with each cast.  Boy when 100_3101.JPG.scaled1000the fishing is good, it is good.  What fun! I lost count of the number of fish caught.  The largest were 14 – 16” and the average in the 10 – 12” range.  Who cares about how big they were?  I was catching fish – that’s all that mattered!

Incorporating long hikes into my return to running has been very enjoyable. Probably even beneficial.  Getting out on my own absorbing God’s handiwork amidst the silence only wilderness can deliver didn’t hurt.  Guess my PT knew what he was talking about.  If my mileage can just challenge the number of fish I catch I should be in great shape in no time.

Next time –Trails-Trails-Trails.  Until then – enjoy the run!

Comments are closed.