This morning I hiked through humidity so thick I wished for gills. Which is worse: hiking in deep woods in the heart of winter or in the heat of summer? In winter I can bundle up for warmth, but in June there's only so far I can strip down, especially when ticks, mosquitos, and poison ivy abound. In winter I worry about slipping on ice and tumbling down a bluff, while in summer I contend with mud as slippery as ice and twice as thick. And then there's always the possibility of a storm: in the woods, blizzards and lightning are similarly scary.
I went to the woods early this morning to miss the thunderstorms and, I hoped, the heat, but humidity rises early and sticks around. I walked a shorter and less demanding trail than usual, but I still found myself sucking air and dripping sweat by the time I was halfway around the loop. By the time I got back to my car, my clothes were as drenched as if I'd jumped into the lake.
So why hike at all this time of year? There's not much to see beyond masses of ferns, moss, and fungus. I found a patch of fire pinks blooming next to the lake, but mostly I saw trees casting shade over swaths of green undergrowth.
But I'm glad I went out all the same. This week I've spent way too much time indoors, staring at my computer while waiting for the rain to stop. It's impossible to mow or canoe or wander aimlessly about in this weather, so I'm glad I took the chance to head for the woods before the rain started up again. I refuse to be defeated by a little humidity. Slowed, yes, but not defeated. But hey, I told myself, if the air gets just a little wetter, I can swim home!
Indian pipes, just emerging 
Hard to see, but this is bear corn 
fire pinks 
The red area is a thick patch of fire pinks 
Lake Katharine, from the Lakeview Trail 
What are these white stalks all over this mossy log?
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