Mountain Lions (etc.) In The Mist

Mountain Lions (etc.) In The Mist
Last night, my adventure-whore coworker John and I hiked up Mt. Woodson in Poway. Also last night, it rained a lot. And it was foggy. Starting about halfway up the mountain, we had probably only a foot or two of visibility. Combine this with John a) making the jungle-monster noises from Lost, b) telling me about satanic cult members who lurk in random near-urban forests in San Diego, c) choosing an "opportune" time to tell me how mountain lions stalk you, especially when you stop to put back on your outerwear on the way down, and you're a little edgy.

The trail at Mt. Woodson basically goes straight up, and is slightly paved once you get to the base of the mountain. It was actually the perfect trail for the night. My darling (and diligently working overtime last night) former-national-park-employee husband generally frowns upon hiking/running/biking on muddy trails, because the negative impact is insane. The trail will be chewed up forever, and future rainfall will just puddle up in the footprints. The damage you make to a muddy trail doesn't just go away when the mud dries up - it gets worse. I'm pretty sure you're technically not supposed to go out until the terrain is dry. Blah blah blah common sense blah blah.

So, first, we had to find the trail in the adverse driving conditions. We pulled over on the side of the highway (let's call this Life Risking Decision A), and trampled around for a while, trying to find the trailhead through the meadows. Our headlamps weren't doing much outside of distracting passing motorists, which we can call Life Risking Decision B. We also decided to leave John's axe in the car, just in case we ended up accidentally trespassing somewhere and got caught carrying an axe and therefore being sinister. Decision C. (Did you notice that my coworker keeps an axe in his car? I think there was a sledgehammer back there, too. There are no words.)

We ended up finding the trail and all was well. John has had a ridiculously interesting life, so it's easy to just be quiet and listen to the stories. However, close to the top, he handed me a big rock he'd picked up from the trail, to carry just in case we were stalked by a mountain lion, jungle monster, or satanic worshipper. I think this was the pivotal moment where I stopped thinking "I'm sure I'm safe with John" and started thinking "Oh. fuck." That said, adrenaline is totally my drug of choice. The moments where I threatened to curl up into a ball, paralyzed with fear, were few and far between. Fewer and further between than usual, that is.

Rainy, foggy, half-lost night hiking is SO the new night hiking.