Signs of spring
Last Thursday, I wandered around on Rainbow Mountain for a bit after work, as is my custom two or three times a week. About one-third of the way in, a little more than a half-mile from the car, I managed to roll my left ankle on a rock I didn’t see because I was busy woolgathering.
Like a motherfucker did it hurt.
Matter of fact, it hurt so bad, I did the unthinkable: I turned around and gimped back to the car instead of trying to walk it off like I normally do. It hurt so bad I almost went to Walgreen’s on the way home for the most powerful painkilllers they sell over the counter, Mega M&Ms.
That’s pain.
Instead, I came home and took four Advils, then spent the night and next day bitching about how bad it hurt and wondering if there will ever be a two-week stretch in the rest of my life when I’m not injured in some way. By Saturday, it only hurt when I used it after periods of inactivity, so of course I went hiking that morning and kayaking that afternoon.
Inside view
Outside view
Springtime has arrived in Alabama with a vengeance. How do I know? I’ve spotted the signs.
Saturday morning, Mister Boogers (esq.) caught an adolescent cardinal of the female persuasion and brought her into the house, growling at all who would come near him. After chasing him around on my gimpy ankle, I finally caught the bird and got her outside.
In her shock, she allowed herself to be subjected to something I’ve only had the opportunity to do a few times in my life:
She sat on my hand for several minutes, and let me pet her pointy headfeathers.
Springtime also brings sunshine with a vengeance, and after a weekend where I spent all day Saturday hiking and kayaking, then spent Sunday kayaking and hiking (just for a change, you understand), I was graced with the first red head of the season.
It didn’t hurt so bad. Not compared to the ankle.
Birds and burns are but two of the harbingers of spring. The third, of course, is the waking of the snakes. I’ve missed seeing snakes over the last several months, so this past weekend was especially nice.
Saturday morning, while I was kayaking by myself, I paddled alongside a tiny brown water snake as he made his way across the shallow refuge waters. Sunday morning, Robyn went kayaking with me. It was very cool to have another person out on the water with me at the same time. We saw a huge water moccasin crossing about 50 feet from us (Robyn thought it was a turtle when I pointed it out to her, and promptly got the willies later on when I explained what it really was). And by “huge,” I mean “head the size of my fist” big.
Then, on Sunday, I came across a copperhead (for real this time, not a midland water snake mistaken for a copperhead like last time) on the Waterline trail. Fortunately, I had the camera.
Beautiful no? Click here for the big version.
If you look closely in the big one, you can see his elliptical pupils,
the sure sign of a pit viper.
Update: Reader Chris spotted this gorgeous water moccasin on a trail
in North Carolina this weekend. Look at that cotton-white mouth!
And when I say “came across a copperhead” in the last paragraph, what I really mean is “walked right over it without seeing it until the person behind me cried out in alarm.”
I should’ve seen it. I would’ve seen it, had I been alone by the time I got to the steep part of Waterline. I started out alone.
Halfway up the Waterline trail, I found a couple standing where the Annandale trail terminates into Waterline, talking. The man looked vaguely familiar. I spoke, and was going to pass them by when the woman commented that they’d seen me at the parking lot when I left out, and that her husband really liked my big stick.
I almost told them I hear that a lot, but decided against it.
They also noticed the kayak rack on top of my [redacted], and we talked about kayaking and whitewater rafting for a moment. Right in the middle of the conversation, I realized that the man had been the instructor in my first college class ever. FORTRAN, in the summer of 1985.
I can’t remember what I had for dinner last night, yet I recognized someone I’d seen twice a week for 10 weeks during the summer 21 years ago.
It’s no wonder Robyn calls me Rain Man.
We stood and talked for 10 or 15 minutes about rafting, hiking, and kayaking, and they decided to climb Waterline with me since they’d never done it. Normally, I stare so intently at the ground when I hike — looking for snakes and rocks — that I don’t see other people until I’m right up on them. This time, however, I was blathering on and on as we went up the steep part of Waterline—
When I’m by myself, I go up Waterline fast enough that I’m panting in a most loud and embarrassing way by the time I get to the top. Without fail, any time I go up the trail with another person, we go so slow that I don’t even breathe hard. I guess that means I’m finally getting into decent shape.
—and I literally walked right over the copperhead without seeing it. It’s pure luck that I didn’t get bit, not my mad skills at snake avoidance.
The final sign of spring is the pollen. Everything here is yellow right now, and that means one thing to me: hay fever. It’s not serious, thank goodness. Just a couple of sneezy weeks in the spring and another couple in the fall. Over the years, I’ve found there’s one thing, one magical drug, that works better than any other: Claritin-D. And now it’s over-the-counter, which is even better.
Sunday afternoon, I stopped at CVS to get a box, but couldn’t find it. It tried Walgreen’s, again with no luck. They had Claritin everything, but not the ‘D’ version. ‘D’ has a decongestant, which seems to help more with my sneezes than the actual Claritin does. Claritin alone just sort of makes the allergies not quite as bad, but Claritin-D makes them completely gone.
Monday morning, Robyn checked at Target and Publix. No Claritin-D. In a fit, I tried drugstore.com to see if they had it. They did. I put a couple of boxes into my cart and went to check out.
Only to be told, “Sorry, Fred. You live in a state that limits the sale of pseudoephedrine, an ingredient in the product you have chosen. As such, drugstore.com cannot sell you this product.”
What the fuck?
I did some digging and sure enough, our fuckhead governor signed a law — ostensibly to stop meth production, since pseudoephedrine (PE) is a chief ingredient of meth — that forces stores to keep products that contain PE either under video surveillance or lock and key. To buy some (and you can’t get more than two boxes of anything), I had to see the pharmacist and present a photo ID, then stand there feeling like a criminal while she filled out a form in triplicate with my full name, address, phone number, store info, date, time, and what I bought.
And then I had to sign the form, alleging that I’m not a methamphetamine manufacturer.
For. A. Fucking. Box. Of. Claritin. D. For. My. Fucking. Allergies.
Is it any wonder everyone hates the government? Every day it seems they do something just a little more stupid to make life harder for those of us who are law-abiding citizens. They punish 99% of us for the actions of 1%.
Then, today, our governor redeemed himself by signing the “Castle Doctrine” law.
Until today, you had to run from someone who threatened your (or your family’s) life, and if you used deadly force to protect yourself you’d better be able to prove you were backed into a corner with no way out. Then, if you got through that, you could be sued by the person (or his/her family) who was threatening you.
Our new law means we no longer have a duty to retreat in the face of a threat. No more running from a criminal who wants to do harm to you or your family. No more prosecution for properly defending yourself, no more worries about getting sued by the family of your attacker.
I stand with the NRA, who says, “We thank Governor Riley for signing this vital legislation into law for the people of Alabama. Law-abiding citizens now have the choice to defend themselves and their families in the face of attack without fear of criminal prosecution and civil litigation.”
That’s what freedom is about.
