Pushing Limits

Self-assured. As the sun rose, tree limbs above my head began to thaw and the frost encircling them rained down on me like glitter. The morning was brisk, hovering right around freezing, and my breath puffed out as smoke in front of me as I picked my way over a carpet of fallen leaves and scattered pine cones, with occasional downed branches and tree trunks strewn across the trail. I heard woodpeckers knocking on the trees, waking up the forests of Big Thicket National Preserve on one of autumn's final days. I had left my home early in the morning and drove a few hours south, intending to day-hike in the Turkey Creek Unit of the preserve, an area in Texas I had yet to explore.

The trail through the thicket was well maintained, if a little bit muddy in places. A couple of times I was forced to bushwhack on the edge of the trail around pools standing water that looked a little too deep for dry feet. I moved quickly along the relatively flat trail that wound through cypress wetlands and dry long-leaf pine groves, paralleling Turkey Creek itself. Even though it was mid-December, green leaves still flourished around me and I constantly stopped to take pictures of the trail. I'm a sucker for trail photos; nothing says "I was actually here" than taking a picture of the trail you're hiking to show people back home. Every turn and twist in the trail brought a new scene, even if was mostly of trees and water. Sometimes the trail opened up into park-like vistas, sometimes the trees closed in tightly on the trail, reminding me of walking down a long hallway or through a tunnel.

Somewhere along the trail, after I'd been hiking for several hours, I turned down a short side-trail that took me to a grassy savannah and a promise of Pitcher Plants. One of several carnivorous plants in Texas, these intriguing plants were everywhere along the boardwalk, and I spent a long time examining them before I finally moved on and continued my hike, though I'd like to go back in the summer and see even more.

For someone who adamantly enjoys solitude, hiking Turkey Creek in December, even on the weekend, delivered. I saw a grand total of five people (and five dogs) on my entire hike, which shattered my previous distance record for the 3rd time in a year, though it didn't take me nearly the amount of time some of the other hikes have. I'm going to have to say I like living and hiking near sea-level. Not only did I hike farther, faster, but it was also incredibly nice weather for someone who is used to snow and below-freezing temperatures in Demcember. Although the frost on the ground and lack of leaves on most trees reminded me that it was wintertime, the day I hiked felt more like autumn and I was shedding layers before long.

I hit my halfway point before noon and turned back, slowing down a little bit and enjoying myself. I had been concerned about having enough daylight to hike the almost 20 mile trail, but hitting my turnaround point less than halfway through the day allowed me to take my time on my way back. As I got closer to my car I definitely started feeling the miles in my knees, and internally kicked myself for letting it be so long between then and the last time I'd hiked (which had been the last time I'd broken my distance record back in September). I hobbled along the last half-mile or so, limping a little bit and slowing to a crawl. I didn't quite hit the 20 mile mark, although if I had circled back up the trail and walked back to my car I would have. That hike wasn't the one though, and I collapsed into my car after fumbling with my pack to find my keys. I was exhausted and out of practice, but still pleased that I had pushed myself and broken my own record again. Next time, I'm hitting that 20 mile mark.