Will we ever learn?
You’d think we would have learned our lesson by now. It does, after all, tend to follow a similar pattern each time that it occurs. It always begins with us having a pleasant hike, walking along some well-trodden track or unobstructed shoreline. At some point we’ll notice a trail branch off that either appears interesting or that we think might offer us a short cut to our destination. It was the latter that occurred yesterday as we hiked along the southern leg of the horseshoe that makes up Chacachacare Island.
We had already passed along a portion of the trail the day previous and knew where it was located. When a path led off up a hill towards where the main track would pass, why wouldn’t we think that it was a steeper yet more direct route to the trail? The thing is, as I said, it always follows a similar pattern. It begins with a path that really does appear reasonable. So gradual that it almost goes unnoticed though, the trail becomes less and less distinct, with more and more growth blocking our travels. Smart people would turn back at this point but no, not us. Perhaps we’re just too optimistic, believing that just around the next corner or over the next rise the trail will once again open up, revealing that which we seek. Or, perhaps it’s just that we’re too stubborn, unwilling to make that dreaded 180 degree turn. Either way, we trudge on, even when the trail has all but disappeared and left us hacking our way through brush where no man has passed.
It all starts well enough.
But then, ever so gradually, it starts to deteriorate.
And then deteriorate even more.
Note that when it gets really bad, we cease taking photos.
How does this turn out? As it always does, with us both sweaty and scratched, and me having let loose so many curse words that, were there any nearby, even salty old sailors would be blushing. When will we learn?
We were in such a mood to go “off-roading” we even anchored our boat on shore,
or a least so says our chartplotter!