Log #0013: The Trouble With Ice

I must have been prescient.

Three days after my last blog, I was mincing my way across the icy drive and slipped anyway. It was one of those slapstick moments with skidding feet and windmilling arms, probably very amusing to anyone who might have witnessed it. I didn't go down; I managed to keep my balance as a result of all those impromptu gyrations, but it pulled a muscle in my back.

You never realize how much you use your back in day-to-day life until you can't. I started to hurt immediately and it only got worse. Unfortunately, I've become a veteran of back strains, having gone through this sort of thing more than I like to admit. It seems once you've done it you're more prone to do it again, and so on and so forth. So I had a pretty fair idea of what was happening and what would probably happen later.

Normally I just use an ice pack, followed by heat, and supplemented with Tylenol. This time was bad enough I pulled out the big guns: the prescription muscle relaxants. I don't like that stuff, half a tablet makes me really giddy before making me comatose. The payoff was worth it, though, because I was feeling much better the next day.

* * *

Before the mishap, and then a couple of days after, I was actually able to get out walking on the back road nearby. The weather has been warm enough that the snow and ice have melted from the road and left it bare. Just extremely muddy.

The mud can be deceptive. The road may look just slightly wet on the surface but it's actually quite saturated. Walking on it can be tough on one's shoes, as one sinks a couple of inches into thick, gluey muck that quickly dries on one's uppers to a concrete consistency. My hiking boots used to be black. The very tops still are; the rest is the same color as the mud in that road.

The ice in my parking area is also melting in fits and starts. I'd say a good half of it has disappeared. This certainly makes heading out for a walk a lot easier, not to mention getting in and out of the car. I just have to remember to slow waaaaa-aaay down when I reach the top of the drive and coast up next to the house; that part, before I turn and back into my habitual spot, is still ice-covered and slick. A friend drove over the other day without knowing how bad it was and nearly slid on into the woods at the edge of the yard. With typical Montana understatement, she mentioned to me later, "You've got a little bit of ice there..."

There are even big patches of bare ground in my back yard now. The snow that's left is shallow enough not to need the snowshoes anymore. Boots are adequate, the snow doesn't reach much above my ankles. Pretty soon there'll even be some green in those patches.

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