Slugs on Foot

View of Neshaminy Creek from the 

Schofield Ford Covered Bridge,

Tyler State Park, Newtown, PA

21 January 2021

On our Friday night Insane Bike Posse Zoom Therapy Session, as Tom calls it, he suggested we meet at Tyler State Park for a Sunday morning walk. It was exactly what I needed to climb out of my own head.

We got there just as an organized run was ending. The boat house parking lot was almost full. Tom and Ricky flagged me down. Mighty Mike was parked next to me. 

Ricky had his real camera, a digital SLR with a zoom lens. "All cameras are real," he reminded me. 

I had my new Canon PowerShot; Tom had his. "I bought the black one this time," I told him. "Mine's black too," Tom said. "I got black because yours was silver." It'll be easy to tell them apart. Mine will be the one that breaks first.

When we were here with our bikes in December, half of the paved paths weren't plowed. Today they all were.

Even the trail to the  Schofield Ford covered bridge showed signs of dirt underneath. I'm not sure I've ever been here when it wasn't completely snow-covered.

Tom and Mike went through while Ricky and I got pictures from the side.

Tom was taking pictures through the diamond-shaped windows. That seemed like a good idea.

I met Mike and Ricky on the other side. We stood talking and taking pictures for a while before we realized that Tom was waiting for us back where we'd started.

 

(Dang. If I'd just zoomed out a little more, I could have had his full reflection.)

Retracing our steps, we climbed back up the steep hill and turned to climb some more. We stopped near a stable for more pictures.

For what it's worth, I think snow-covered, sloping fields surrounded by bare trees are much more interesting to look at than the full greens of summer.

And horses don't tend to wear colorful blankets in the summer either. These were the United Horses of Benetton.

 A pair of tracks looked as if someone had gone up the slope sideways.

At the top of another hill, Ricky noticed ice shining on tree branches. To get the full shine would have meant shooting into the sun, so I took the picture from the side instead.

At the bottom of the hill, we took pictures of a stream from a snow-covered stone bridge.

We passed a snowy picnic table next to a dilapidated house.

It was across the path from a house that looked fully inhabited. The path we were on was called "Number 1 Lane Trail," and it shows up as a road on Google Maps. I wondered what it would be like to live here.

The trail curved uphill, past another picnic table and another run-down barn.

A cyclist passed us. He was riding a Cannondale Topstone 4. "Hey, Ricky! He's got our bike! We clearly have the 'it' bike of 2020."

Then we were back at the boat house bridge over Neshaminy Creek.

Tom read from his pedometer and told us we'd gone about seven miles. I'm no good at judging distance on foot. We'd mostly been on clear blacktop with the occasional excursion over half-trampled snow, so these miles weren't exactly strenuous. Still, my legs were a little tired. But my head had cleared.

In my driveway, I took the camera out again for a low redbud branch resting on a cracked, snow-filled flower pot.