It’s a small stump, but an important one. I was hiking with my hiking buddies, including a dog, and moved to the side of the trail to let a group pass. I sat my foot down wrong and my knee objected. I moved too fast to correct my stance and fell. There was no grace, no recovery. Just me falling back into poison ivy and the stump leaving a one-inch scrape from knee up the thigh.

Falling brought home a fact that I’ve been ignoring. I’m old. I must be. There’s no other reason for the number of people who tried to help me.

As far as my wound goes, my pride was the biggest casualty.

More hiking posts.