Mrs. Teabody Places Herself in Peril!

Good Morning ! The window is full of the new day and a screen of green. If today turns out to be half as beautiful as yesterday, Gentle Reader, Mother Nature must be feeling very generous toward the inhabitants of Earth. Mrs. Teabody adores nature. Given the choice between being indoors and out of doors on a mild day, Mrs. Teabody will always embrace fresh air. Mrs. Teabody also enjoys venturing forth through the woods on her daily perambulations with Lady Glass and the Duchess Ming. Let it be understood, however, that these forays though the woods  are on a well traveled, gravel-defined ROAD. Motor cars travel it daily. Houses containing fellow humans dot it intermittently. Rattlesnakes can be spotted crossing it from a mile away.  One day a Starbucks may spring up alongside. It is THAT civilized. In no way is the daily walk a preparation for HIKING.

It must also be understood that Mrs. Teabody has never considered herself a HIKER. Goodness, no. Not for a minute. First of all, the apparel is not at all flattering, and earth tones are NOT in Mrs. Teabody's palette. Second, Mrs. Teabody enjoys living. She likes to know when danger is near, and when it IS near, Mrs. Teabody needs the option of bailing out. Exactly two years ago, Mrs. Teabody's excellent good friend, Lady Glass suggested that Mr. and Mrs. Teabody accompany her on a "walk" to "The Falls," a lovely Meadow Grounds destination that everyone is understandably  vague about. Of course one had always  heard tales: everything from the bragging "A piece of cake" to the daunting  "Not especially well marked." Mon Dieu! Nonetheless, living in the Meadow Grounds and not walking to "The Falls" is tantamount to living in Manhatten and never seeing a Broadway show. It is this last comparison that was Lady Glass's most provocative argument and the one which finally drew Mrs. Teabody's consent. 

Sometime during the intervening days based on input from FORMER friends, Mrs. Teabody was told that the easiest thing to do after making one's way to the falls was to continue southward through the ravine emerging onto a field close by Ravensburg Road. "A couple a miles at the most" was the assurance of a (formerly) trusted friend. On further advice of this ill-informed sort, the Teabodys actually parked their ancient motor car at Ravensburg Road so it would be there waiting after their little adventure.  From there, Lady Glass packed the Teabodys and Duchess Ming into her motorcar and the lot traveled back to the top of Meadow Grounds Mountain to begin. With what enthusiasm did this latter-day Donner Party embrace the first leg of the journey! Again and again Lady Glass gave assurances that the trail was well marked. That being said, the exploring party managed to wander off the trail even before entering the woods. A harbinger of things to come? All too soon the "trail" was re-discovered and  a mere sixty yards further it was time to make the first stream crossing because the "trail" was now on the opposite side. Gentle Reader, do have a long and close look at the picture below. Do take note of the raging water. But most importantly do have a look at the "bridge" Mrs. Teabody was expected to cross! MONDIEUMONDIEUMONDIUEMONDIEU! Mrs. Teabody would have jettisoned the plan at that very moment were it not for the shame brought upon her by Mr. Teabody's heroic crossing of  the bridge CARRYING the Duchess Ming. What was there to do but carry on?

These logs thrown across the raging stream willy-nilly as "bridges" would soon become a pattern. One was forced to cross the stream because the side one had just grown accustomed to would suddenly transform itself into a sheer wall. Such crossings were far too frequent, far too frequent. Additionally at some point after the second or third crossing, there was an eight-foot-high vertical wall to climb just to reach another part of the "trail," truly a ridiculous term. Mrs. Teabody is a woman of the world and she knows no woman of a certain age should ever have MUD on her body outside a perennial border or a day spa. Absurd. One hour into the adventure found Mrs. Teabody  tattered, bedraggled, sodden, and muddy. And bloodied! -- yes, bloodied! from scarpering over a gigantic fallen log. Mon Sobbing Dieu!

On many occasions since, Lady Glass has said that the raging stream that day was the real enemy on the walk as one can most days simply walk across it. By all means, do have a look for a nice place to set your feet in the above  picture. Can you find one? Allow Mrs. Teabody to answer for you: No. You cannot. Precipitous. Treacherous. Heart stopping. Trail? A trail straight to Hades.

Several thousand physical insults and injuries later, the destination-- the falls pictured above -- was reached, and what a beauty it is! The party rested, gathering some degree of renewal from the view of the loud and cascading stream,  and from the bottled water and fingernails ingested. Poor Mrs. Teabody sat in her own little triage area, assessing how much shorter the ordeal had rendered her days on this earth. Her right calf was a gory mess. A brush burn ran the length of her arm. Leaves were clinging to her raven hair. All too soon it was time to strike out and the next two hours were a study in torture as each person made his/her own way along the ravine, scrabbling along cliffs, holding onto trees to lift oneself to the necessary elevation. At one point the creek was twenty feet below! Terrifying.  An air of gloom settled over the party. The only human sounds were groans. Was death imminent?

Eventually the topography flattened and the creek widened. One would think the going would be easier but the ground surface simply turned into a rock-strewn, ankle-turning devil. The only thing keeping everyone hopeful was the knowledge that the  creek had to emerge at Ravensburg.  Some day. Just when all hope was lost, Mrs. Teabody began to see the first signs of civilized life: bright yellow "No hunting" signs attached to trees. Hooray! Had running been physically possible the lot would have dashed from the woods, but everyone just slogged along emerging into the field and seeing the Teabodys' ancient motor car just where they had parked it. Soon enough all were safely inside, the engine roared to life and the ordeal was over. Mostly. Mrs. Teabody was immobilized for twenty-four hours, and she still bears a scar from the "adventure."

Mrs. Teabody learned many valuable lessons that fateful day exactly two years ago. First of  all, rock and / or mountain climbing will never figure in any future plans. Never.  Second,  folks in Manhatten may have very good reasons for not seeing a Broadway play, and third and, most importantly is this sage advice from Clint Eastwood : "A man's got to know his limitations." So must a woman. Including poor Mrs. Teabody. Enjoy your day. Be safe.