The Vizsla needs a run -- she’s been waiting patiently all day and the rain has let up to a fine mist.  I’ll grab my poles and take a hike (nordic walk) up in the woods.

We start out on the loops on our land, which we walk several times a day, and she’s off on her “check the new smells” romp.  I’m caught up in thinking about some publishing issues I’ve just struggled with -- missing fonts in older documents because they were done on older computers.  I’ve been trying to create some ebooks using pdf and it’s a hassle -- I’ve got 900 fonts but not a couple we used five years ago.  So, let it go and enjoy the early fall afternoon.

The leaves are turning but mostly yellow here.  We’ve got soft maples and they seem to get speckled with brown -- although some will get red later on.  Higher up, there’s lots of red showing on the mountains.  The ferns, chest-high in spots, got frosted and are bronze.  The asters and daises, often head high, are untouched but soaking wet.

I’ve got my new LL. Bean slicker on and with the poles and climbing, find it pretty warm.  Robins are flocking up in every clearing -- they’ll likely be heading south on the next cold front winds.

We head up on to abutting forest and Penny flushes a couple of partridge.  She doesn’t point them, just chases them.  No wonder she flunked out of hunting school years ago.

I’m reminded of a time years ago when I was working on one of my mountain bike books and trying to tape record the ride description as I rode along.  I was climbing up this rocky trail, gasping into the mike about it, when a whole covey of young partridges exploded out of the weeds near my front wheel.  I wish I had saved that tape -- it was a breathless  “the trail gets more technical .... S.O.B...” accompanied by the beating of a dozen wings.  It was funny to hear when I was transcribing later on -- and still makes me chuckle as I remember it.

Then my mind veers to the photos I used to try to take on these rides.  You don’t meet riders on most of the rides I was doing and rather than just taking another photo of the bike against a trail sign, I’d try to set up the camera and use the timer.  I’d set up the small tripod I carried, set the self-timer, and then run back, try to hop on the bike and ride toward the camera.  What a joke -- it was either out of focus, or I was half on the bike, whatever.  I don’t know that I ever got a usable shot.

The rain has picked up a bit and I’m glad for the slicker.  It’s loud on the leaves and all I can hear is Penny’s periodic shaking to dry out.  She’s loving it, ranging back and forth, nose to the ground.  There are still some stone walls to check on the way back -- where she remembers critters from former walks.

We’ve been out a little over an hour and it feels great -- the trail is soft due to the rain and the temperature is perfect.  My hiking shoes and jeans are soaked.  We’ll head back and dry out a bit -- and Penny will smell like ferns all evening. 

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