Tuesday's hike at Rattlesnake Ridge Natural Area reminded me that one needs to stay conditioned for strenuous summertime activities.
My son Ethan and I hiked Rattlesnake Ridge in the middle of the day when the temperature was about 98 degrees. I have largely spared myself exposure to this summer's torrid heat and humidity. I have always been more of a cool weather guy anyway, but the effects of chemotherapy and radiation for treatment of colorectal cancer in 2009 permanently disrupted my internal thermostat. I simply cannot tolerate extreme heat and humidity like I could before cancer.
Wearing sunscreen keeps me cooler, but that's about the only artificial relief available. If you exert in the heat of the day, you will certainly feel it.
Ethan and I took a generous supply of bottled water, but we only took one bottle each on the trail. Additional water is heavy, and it's a hassle to haul empty water bottles back to the vehicle.
It's not a long hike to the top of Rattlesnake Ridge if you keep track of where you are. Ethan and I have hiked to the ridge many times, so we believed we had the route memorized. We were mistaken. We took a secondary trail to the foot of the ridge where we linked up with the Rattlesnake Trail. An unnamed secondary trail branches off the eastern end of the Rattlesnake Trail and goes almost straight up a path of loose chunk rock. With every step, rocks peel downhill from under your feet, requiring very slow, short, methodical steps.
At the top of this trail we realized we weren't going where we wanted, so we went back down. Going down is, in a way, more arduous than going up.
We went to the far end of the Rattlesnake Trail before realizing that didn't go where we wanted, either. Finally, we found the Canebrake Trail, which leads to the top of the ridge. The view was spectacular, and we could see for miles in the clear, unblotted blue sky. A cool, gentle breeze was the biggest reward and made us want to spend the rest of the afternoon basking in its glory.
Here's the problem, though. Being unacclimated to strenuous activity this summer, I am out of condition. About a quarter into the hike, my clothes were drenched with sweat. It didn't help that a good bit of our errant route was in direct sunlight.
I slugged down my entire bottle of water at that point, and from there my thermostat seemed to regulate fairly well. I got a lot more comfortable when we reached trail portions that were in the shade.
On the other hand, I really felt the effects of heat stress on the return trip. The rocky terrain aggravated a sore ankle. Trying to compensate fatigued the entire leg. That, combined with mild dehydration, made me fairly cross when we finally reached the parking area.
It is hard sometimes for me to remember I'm not in my twenties anymore. I backpacked from Arkansas to Maine through four seasons wearing a 70-pound backpack. A piddling little hike like the one to the top of Rattlesnake Ridge should be child's play. In cooler weather it is, but doing anything strenuous in the kind of weather we've had this summer must be undertaken carefully, especially for us who refuse to acknowledge that we aren't in our twenties anymore.
Before I indulge in a moment of self pity, I remind myself that hiking with a 70-pound backpack during the summer in my twenties was often borderline unbearable, as well. I recall a particular day in 1988 hiking through Stowe, Vt. It was so bloody hot and I was so terribly thirsty. Outside a gift shop that specialized in locally made maple candy, syrup and crafts was a barrel full of ice and bottles of Rolling Rock beer. It cost $3 per bottle on the honor system, with a little box to put your money.
I drained a cold Rolling Rock in one gulp. It was so good that Rolling Rock was the only brand I would drink for a long while after that, but I never had another beer as good as that one.
The point is that heat stress isn't age specific. We're all susceptible to it, even on short hikes. I want to hike the Ozark Highland Trail in the fall, but I have some work ahead of me before I'm ready to tackle that.
Take care of yourself out there and remember that autumn is coming.