Interesting outing.
I decided I'd go do a run up in the hills, nice
trail along the top of a ridge in Colrain, I've done it three or four times. The original plan was to do the whole thing, start at the south end, up to the north end and then add just a little more to get to the Vermont state line, and then back.
But then not long after starting, and the legs were not feeling very spry (as opposed to yesterday, when all the hills felt easy), I decided I'd probably only do part of it, maybe turn around after 30 or 40 minutes. The whole thing would take about 100-110 minutes.
The other reason for scaling back was it was raining and about 40F, and over the years I've just gotten a little more cautious about heading off on these solo runs. I didn't expect to see anyone else out there, and the thought of getting hurt is more often in the back of my mind, and 40 and rain is not a good time to get hurt.
So I ran along, a bit up and a bit down, listening to Tina Fey and Terri Gross, watching out for the frost pockets, and after about 20 minutes got to the foot of Avery Hill. And there were a few signs up of the "No Tresspassing" variety, and a big tree trunk across the trail, but I knew where to go. So I hopped across the tree trunk and around a corner and then it started to climb seriously.
Except right away there was a dirt road, that was new, but it was going where I wanted to go, so up I went, and eventually I was at the top.
And a little confused, it wasn't quite clear where the trail down the north side was. I headed down what I thought might be it, and then it dead-ended, but over to my left I could see another dirt road. So I worked my way through the brush over to it, and then down it pretty steeply, and then it turned and headed down even more steeply off the ridge. Well, that wasn't where I wanted to go.
Chugged back up, got to the top. By now I'd decided that I was quite happy just heading back. The problem was, which way was back?
There was the dirt road I'd just come up, but it was clearly wrong. And I couldn't spot the one I'd come up the first time, though I couldn't remember for sure if it had been dirt road all the way up, maybe the last part had been less distinct (the whole top was logged). Started down one logging track, nope, that wasn't going anywhere, back up to the top. Looked back down where I'd just been, yup, that's where I had gone the first time down from the top, and that was heading north, so I didn't want that way.
So I headed down the opposite way, remnants of a trail though not much recent use, but it felt OK, I thought it was the old trail heading south. And after a bit it hooked up with the main snowmobile trail.
So I followed that for a little while. And it didn't take too long before I said to myself -- Peter, you have definitely not been here today.
At this point I was starting to get a little worried. I was a little chilly, but still pleasantly chilly, but quite perplexed about where I was. And with the heavy overcast there was no help from the sun as to which way I was headed. So I went just a little farther, as it turns out to just south of hill 1145, stopped, had a careful look at my map, and decided, yup, I was headed north.
A quick u-turn, came back to where I'd come off the top, there were more signs there saying the trail was closed, there was also a recently cut trail swinging around the side, and within several minutes I was back at the tree trunk I had hopped over.
And slowly figuring out that there was just one dirt road up to the top, that I had gone up it, then after a short detour gone down it, then gone back up it again. How stupid we are sometimes.
The rest of the run was fine, legs felt a little better, though the ego quite a bit worse.