The golden years

My 74th birthday: Present to myself: Hike up Palisades creek: I’m on the road at 7 am, drive 50 miles to the trail head, arrive at 8. Hit the restroom, no toilet paper of course,but I always have mine in my backpack. Off I go – 2 hrs to go 4 miles to the lower lake, half an hour to feed the wildlife

(It was just the two of us, but still I felt a sense of superiority because I was providing the nuts. I mean..Well I didn’t mean to suggest I feel superior to Mr Chipmunk, BUT - I do provide the food.). Sorry, I digress. After the philosophical discussion with Mr Chipmunk (Oh yeah. He demands to be addressed that way) I hiked back down the trail, dodging around water pools in the trail – the creek is running high-snow melt-but looks like it’s reached its high point. Almost made it out without getting my boots wet. Driving home. Remembered to look at the eagle aerie just outside Swan Valley. I believe I saw two fairly large eaglets in it. Shortly thereafter I shifted in my seat and my ass screamed “DO NOT MOVE ME”

That brings us to the backstory:

Remember the part where I went to the restroom? I’m pretty sure that’s where it started. After shitting I’m well aware that my hemorrhoids are particularly active today. Gotta love 74.

About ¾ of the way to my destination I became increasingly aware that my ass was increasingly painful. And yes, I know what's happening. “God Damn It!! So annoying!” This is not my first hemorrhoid rodeo.

What happens is this: My hemorrhoids bleed- (I’ve walked 3+ miles; talking gravity here.)– the blood mixes with my ass sweat, seeps down and dries around the hairs around my groin. Every step I take tugs at those hairs. Walking becomes un-welcoming.

Anyway, I make it to the lake and wash my ass, my ass crack, and my groin. Gently. Sooo gently. Feels like sunburn or radiation damage down there where legs meet torso.

Long story short (No, not gonna happen): I walk 4 miles back to the car and it’s uncomfortable. Detracts a little from the fact that I’ve just completed an eight mile hike on my 74th birthday. I get into the car and after driving awhile I shift in my seat. That’s when my ass’s “DO NOT MOVE ME” moment occurs. You see, the fluid that has accumulated between my upper thighs has now dried, pasting left thigh's hair to right side's. Any simple movement is like unzipping velcro.

I arrive home, shower, tenderly soaping my ass and groin. PAIN! Even when handled gently! Imagine someone tweezering your groin hairs.

Shifted in the chair later whilst sitting on the patio and got: “Ass to Brain: ‘Every move’s gonna send you pain!’” Brain quickly enforces quietude on my lower body.

A day later, I’m feeling okay. I suppose the moral of this story is that Asses heal quickly.

I did.