It was a pleasant day and I'd decided to hike up the mountains to a place called Lookout Point. I guess I should say we decided, as I had a couple of friends with me. It's quite a stiff hike, but we'd been talking about it for a while and finally decided to do it. We were all quite fit and had been practising our hiking on easier trails. This time we were going all the way to the top - no excuses.
Short, t-shirts, and sneakers, were the right clothing for such an arduous walk. Light and airy and giving us freedom of movement. I mean, we were only hiking. It's not as though we'd be climbing any sheer cliffs. We'd get on the trail and stick to it.
We drove up to the mountains and parked in the public area near a Ranger station. The path was clearly marked. All we had to do was get on it and start walking. We didn't even reach the damned path before we had an accident. Michelle stepped on the edge of a stone that shifted under her and she tripped. Angie and I both laughed.
"Geez, Michelle," said Angie, "you'll never make it up the trail if you keep falling over your own feet."
A blushing Michelle scrambled to her feet, took one step, and collapsed with a scream.
"I've broken my ankle," she said with a gasp.
She is such a drama queen. Broken ankle from a simple little fall like that. Not likely. I was right. The Ranger Station was manned and a Ranger came out to see if he could render first aid.
"Not broken," he said with a smile. "Just sprained. Stay off it for a few days and you'll be right."
There went our hike to Lookout Point. I was rather irritated about it but I couldn't see that there was much we could do about it. It wouldn't be fair to poor Michelle to leave her sitting there all day while Angie and I went hiking. We'd have to come back another time.
"Ah, why not go up by yourself, Paula," suggested Michelle. "Angie can keep me company while you're gone. I know how much you've been anticipating this."
"I'd have to leave the pair of you here for hours," I protested. "It's at least a two mile hike there and then I've got to come down again."
"Only if you use the main trail," Michelle said. "My brother told me that if we want to take a short cut we only need to take the shortcut. He said what when you reach the first point where the trail doubles back on itself you'll see another small trail that goes straight ahead. Apparently that's the old hiking trail and takes you to the top and it's only half the distance. It's a lot steeper and older people found it hard to handle but you should have no problems."
Now I was interested. If there was a shorter route I could probably be up to the top and back in about an hour. I dithered about but finally let them persuade me, mainly because it's what I wanted to do.
"I'll walk with you to where the old trail starts and then come on back," said Angie. "That way we'll know where you went, just in case you wind up with a sprained ankle."
"Way to jinx me," I muttered, but after getting Michelle comfortable we wandered over to the trail and started up it. Sure enough, when we reached the first switchback in the trail you could see another trail heading up the mountain. It was steeper than the main trail but who cared? I kissed Angie goodbye and started up the trail.
The first five minutes of that old trail were a bit brutal. It was steeper than I was comfortable with, but I managed OK. Then it took a little dip, which was easier, and after that it seemed to level out, winding through the mountain at the same level. I was a little confused now as I didn't seem to be getting any higher. I was starting to worry if I'd find a really steep section further along.
A good ten minutes down the trail and it was starting to register that I'd made a mistake. The trail was still level (for a mountain trail) which meant I wasn't getting any closer to Lookout Point. I was just about ready to give it away but thought I'd keep going just a bit further and see what was there.
What I found just a little further down the trail was someone whistling. This lifted my spirits a little. I could at least ask if I was on the right trail. Coming around a corner I emerged into a little clearing and strolling across the clearing towards me was a man, whistling.
Quite a big man, he was. Casually dressed in a tracksuit, perhaps a little on the chubby side, with a happy face, which explained the whistling, I guess. He looked nice and approachable so I approached.
"Excuse me, sir," I asked, "but I was told this trail was a short-cut to Lookout Point. Can you confirm this?"