Approaching mile 9 of the Tuxachanie Trail on Sunday, I crossed Spike Buck Creek via the plank bridge which winds for some 50 yards across the marshy bottomland.
I found a tiny clearing beside the trail just past mile 10, pitching my tent under one of the many trees felled by Hurricane Katrina.
Monday I hiked packless another 3 miles or so, as Spike Buck Creek joined Tuxachanie Creek itself. The creek is a deep cut in heavily wooded forest, often hidden by the morass of huricane-tossed trees.
A deer skirted around my path, keeping 60 yards distant. His snort sounded like a horse; his large hoofprints on the trail bespoke a heavy buck. A shiny blue-black 3-foot long indigo snake lay across my path, languidly considering my presence. She challenged the end of my walking stick to a fight, then thought better of it and glided off. A scream from a bald eagle rang out overhead.
But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not be faint. Is 40:31.