Much shorter hike this time, and I didn't count mileage, but by my guess it was approximately seven miles. The trail was actually something along the lines of 9.8 miles there-and-back, but I did only a little because I wanted to do a little bit of climbing. Everything's going quite nicely -- trail is quiet, sun comes out every and then, temperature's in the fifties but I'm still breaking a sweat under my jacket, making good time -- and I hit the cliffs I saw and wanted to climb. Meander down through some fun little crags and slopes, hit the bottom, and take a look.
Sure, no problem, it's not even really climbing. It's easy-peasy. And even during the climb, it was easy going, no issue, all good and fun; shoot, I was kind of hoping someone would call all of a sudden so I could hang there by one hand and say something overly dramatic and exaggerated like, "Sorry, little busy -- can I call you back? Oh, nothing, just climbing to the top of a mountain. Yep, yep, ciao."
But then I get to the top, take a seat to catch my breath, and my left wrist starts to complain. Not broken, just nice sharp pains when I'm not careful with it. I think I twisted it a little harder than I thought I could have, or put too much weight on it in the wrong direction, or something. Anyway, I'm not very much favoring the right hand. It was a bit of a pain driving home (I drive a manual, FYI), and I find that writing anything with a stylus is rather uncomfortable.
I'd rather it my left than my right, though. The right is sort of important to the operation of a camera. Anyway, how about some photos?
The falls at the trailhead.
This was about the point that my wrist up and started in with the whinin'.
From the scenic overlooks on the way back home.This was all in the Talladega State Park, by the way.
And I'm pretty sure the wrist'll be okay soon enough. Nothing extreme planned tomorrow, so there should be time for recovery.
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