Poor Fedor was pooped. Heather had to carry him like a sack of potatoes. Cute, they match!
A long uphill journey. From top: Kurt, Stacey, John, Heather, Alex.
I'm really keen on hiking lately. I think the forest is best in the fall, with the cool air and leaves crunching underfoot. We hiked the Siltstone Trail at Jefferson Memorial Forrest. At it's best: brisk breezes, scenic views from over the ridge, rustling tree branches, mushrooms and mosses of every shape and color. At it's worst: grueling, butt-kicking hills and boobie traps (mudslide, hole in the ground, sharp rocks!) disguised by blankets of leaves. Our dogs gleefully pranced between piles and piles of horse poop, doing their best to gobble it up before receiving disapproving swats on their noses. After an abbreviated bout of tree bending, Kurt fell out of a tree. Now he has a kankle to show for it. We sat on logs and had a picnic of stinky cheese, honey crisp apples, pumpkin seeds and dry salami.