I will never learn.  As we use to say in the Army "No brain no pain."  

The short version of this story is a big fat guy walks too far up a hill, which is too steep, and walks back down in weather that is too hot.   So most of you can stop here and still won't have missed much.  

I ripped the heck out of my CamelBak pack falling off of a ski lift last winter.  My loving wife sews it up every few weeks to keep my stuff from falling out of it.   She finally decides to see if someone else will sew it.  She called the place I bought it Aardvark Cycles and ask were would be a good place to get it fixed.  They told her it is still under warranty, which surprises me since I didn't think the warranty would cover getting it caught on the ski lift and having a 230 pound fat guy hanging off of it, until it finally rips loose, sending the fat guy and all of his stuff careening down the hill to the amusement of his son.   But it does!   Since I will be without it for awhile my wife picks me up a very poor knock off of a CamelBak pack.  It is a third of the price but not even work that.   I fill the reservoir which is so bad I will most likely replace it or I could just let my wife use it.  I hang my mobile phone and GPS off straps which are so thin they are guaranteed to cut into my shoulders.  I toss in a few granola bars and some treats for the dog.  

I also put an electronic training device on Ranger since I am going to let him go off leash.  This is a good tool if he decides to chase deer, horses, hikers, or motorcycles.  It has a "good tone" which seems like some sort of cruel dog trick to me, but he seems to like it.  It also has a "bad tone" which he doesn't like.  I assume because it gives the bad tone just before it gives what the manual calls a "static" negative reinforcement.  I put it on my arm to test it and it isn't really "static" it is a pretty strong electrical shock.  I know ever since I tested it on my arm, wince every time I hear the "bad tone" 

Ranger likes the collar, because he is stupid.  He likes it because whenever we put it on him, we give him the good tone and a treat.  It also means that he is going for a walk and we will let him off the leash.   It was 6:30 when I got up put on my jeans and a tee shirt and packed up, it is 6:45 when we head out the front door.   I realize that I didn't let Ranger do his morning business and don't want to clean up after he deposits a present on any of the neighbors lawns so I decide we should run to the trail.   Did I mention that I am a 46 year old fat guy?   I run pass a couple of the neighbors and think, "Wow, I'm sure they are impressed that I am out running my dog."    I get out of sight of them and I'm so winded that I am afraid that I might pass out.  I have to let Ranger off the leash. I'm so out of breath that I have to take my glasses off.  I am not sure why, maybe they are too heavy but off the glasses come and I still continue to gulp for air.   My house is about a mile high so I can't seem to get enough oxygen even though I can see the trees move whenever I breath in.

This is the beginning of the hike and being this out of breath is not a good sign.  Of course I can't go home past the neighbors now since everyone will know I only went 1000 feet and was already out of breath.   Ranger is raring to go.  I need to slink off into the woods a couple of thousand meters and hunker down so no one will know how badly out of shape I am.  Of course they are not blind so they know what kind of shape I am in, so I'm not sure who I'm really fooling.

I have walked the first part of the trail a couple of hundred times so once my heart rate has slipped out of the danger zone Ranger and I head off.  The sun is up but hasn't crested over the mountain yet so it is cool about 62^o.  The first part of the walk is very pretty, a pleasant walk over a sun dappled trail.  We make pretty good time with just one more wind sucking climb, which I know will level off before I have to take off my glasses again.    Ranger is running free doing an extra mile for every one of mine.  He is also marking the trail, every clump of grass, horse dropping, dog  dropping, really anything with an aroma that is not his, gets marked.   This is his trail and he wants everything on four legs to know it. 

The next part of the trail is steep and covered with razor sharp rocks.  Ranger and I have been on it before. He runs up it like it was flat as a board I struggle up it like I am climbing Mt Everest.  I take a break half way up the incline and take off my glasses.   The real problem is I have been at least a mile farther than this before so I have no excuse to turn around and call it a day.  I also use to hike 25 miles carrying sixty pounds of gear and a 90 millimeter recoilless rifle so quitting just two miles into a hike does seem kind of lame.

We stop for rest on some big boulders which make the trail unsuitable for mountain biking, not that I could ride up this steep of a hill anyways.  Ranger and I turned around last Saturday just a quarter of mile father on, but today we decided that we would make it all the way to Squaw Peak Trail where my infamous last bike ride took place.   I give him some treats and eat one of the granola bars.  I have been drinking water all morning but the knock off tube is so bad it is like sucking bread through a straw.  I hold the pack over my head and let some water pour into my cupped hand for Ranger, he is unimpressed.  I don't know how he will continue to mark the trail if he doesn't drink, but I offered and he refused so off we go.

The trail levels off for a bit and then I remember why we turned around last week, it gets really steep.   The sun is up over the mountain and we are walking directly into it.  I don't have any sun screen on and I'm still pealing from the bike ride.  I promised myself that we would make it to Squaw Peak trail and back, then I would lay around in bed the rest of the day feeling like I had gotten all the exercise that I needed for the day.

I'm looking exactly 36 inches in front of me now since the sun is in front of us, I am struggling up hill, and I am freak'n tired.  The trail gets a bit steeper and my view drops to 24 inches, unfortunately 24 inches ahead seems to be at about eye level.  I am now mountain climbing, not hiking anymore. Ranger is laying down on the trail above me.  I'm not sure if it is because he is tired, or just bored waiting for me.   I make it up to where he is laying and he jumps up and takes off at a gallop, I guess he was bored.

The trail has leveled off so I'm back to the 36 inch view when I spot a rattlesnake sunning himself (or herself , it is hard to tell from 36 inches away)  I decide to stop, Ranger is well past the snake so I figure it can not be much of a threat.  It is a rattlesnake so not much of a threat still seems like more of a threat than I want to take almost four miles from home.   I bang my foot and the snake looks over at me as if to say, "Look just step over me fat boy."   I figure that I shouldn't have to take lip from a snake, plus I'm tired, sweating, and am a pretty good shot with a rock.  I bang my foot one more time.   The snake coils up, shakes his rattler, whips out his forked tongue at me, and then disappears into the woods.   I wait for it to move well off the trail, push my view out to 46 inches and continue up the trail.

I step over some dung which is pretty common on the trail since we have a lot of horses in Utah but this is not from a horse, it looks like cow dung.   I have just walked almost 4 miles up the mountain from 5,017 feet to almost 7,000 feet and I almost step in a cow pie?   I continue on, wondering what kind of alpine cows we have here in Utah.  The trail breaks out of the woods into a clearing, really more of a pasture since it is full of cow pies.  No cows but plenty of signs that a big fat cow is in better shape that yours truly.   I am also disappointed that the flies seem to find me more appealing than the cow pies.  I must really be out of shape to smell better to a fly than cow crap does.   I still have about a quarter of a mile to go to get to the trail so I press on in the full sun, sweating and swatting at my new friends.

We get to where my GPS tells me I planned on hiking to today, just at the four mile mark.  I figure that the return four miles should be a piece of cake.  Just then we hear a motorcycle, Ranger is off leash and he doesn't like motorcycles. I call him and he almost comes to me.  The motorcycle rides pass me slowly and I lose Ranger as he decides that he should head after the bike and at least mark it.   I call him again but it is a losing battle.  I pull out my "static" negative reinforcement remote control and push the button marked "Level four (max)"   Ranger gives me a look like, " I wish that snake would have gotten you."   He drops his tail between his legs to the relief of the motorcyclist, and comes to me when I call him again.  The motorcyclist thanks me and I apologize as he tells me that a second bike is just behind him.   I keep hold of Ranger's collar and the second bike is past us without event.

We continue past the field of cow pies back down the trail.  Going downhill is almost as hard as going up hill. My toes are jammed into the front of my sneakers and I get a few new rock bruises as they skid out from under my feet.  I end up laying on my back twice and on my face once.  I am sure I couldn't mountain bike down or up this hill but riding up a hill is only fun because you can ride down it.   Hiking down a hill is not a suitable reward for hiking up a hill.   Ranger and I continue down the hill, it is 87^o at about 10:30 in the morning when I finally put him back on the leash and we walk back the last 1000 feet to the house.   Ranger wanted to run it again but I was content to walk back down to the house having finished 8 miles in about four hours.  I was tired, and sweaty but I knew that I could now lay in bed in my air conditioned house and feel like I had done a full days work before noon.