28KM: The radio tower, the garden snake and flying shorts

A run is never just a run!

This past Sunday we were on the Manatoulin visiting some old friends who are runners and we decided to let our host set the route for our 28km that we were due to complete as part of our training. Our dutiful guide started our LSD with a beautiful waterfront tour of Low Island Park, and the boat filled marina in Little Current.  Onward and upward past the swinging bridge, past the Country Fest camp grounds (think Woodstock meets Country Music) and out to Hwy 540 towards Gore Bay.  As we strode along the highway we were treated to beautiful vistas normally reserved for post cards noting "wish you were here"....which by the way, I am convinced in hindsight, was a handy distraction for the bugger of a hill we had to climb to get to the escarpment and turning point to head back to town. (see previous post on hills!)  After we finished sucking wind at the top of said hill, we found ourselves on the escarpment that overlooks the low lying views we had just passed but now on a wide open and wonderful country road. 

After about a kilometer on our country road Jessica informs us that she may need to "duck behind a tree" (as we runners often tend do when out on a long run with no loo in sight) To which our thoughtful host and guide replied "there's a radio tower and building up ahead that you could use,  it may provide more privacy" (get a sense of where this is going?) As we came upon said tower Jessica hops over a few tall weeds and treads toward the radio tower to..........well you get the idea.. 
Any who,  as only runners can manage to think of these things our guide takes a pause and says, "maybe we should have given her some milk weed to take with her, it's much softer than leaves" and not but a few moments later does Jessica come out of said bushes and flings her shorts and us and says " I have to pick the burrs out of my underwear, you guys can get the ones in my shorts".

Now, I would love to tell you that the two of us were very supportive and tried to distract Jessica from her woes but, I can't.   We laughed. Out loud.  Non-stop.  For the entire time it took us to pick the burrs out of her shorts.  And to say there were many would be an understatement!
After the fits of laughter subsided Jessica was good enough to give us the details of how said burrs got onto said bottom and shorts.  Jessica had climed into said bushes by the radio tower and was going about her business when a garden snake came across her path scaring her and causing her to jump and thus tumble into the burrs.

Bless her heart she toughed it out for an additional 10Km before we called it a day and headed down to the beach to cool our aching muscles and sooth a tender touchie in the curitive waters of the north channel.

So here are some valueable lessons we learned from this adventure: 
1. stay away from radio towers, snakes love em'
2. milk weed, softer than leaves.
3. Always run with friends you can count on to pick burrs out of  the ass of your sweaty shorts.
4. North Channel -  sooths the ravaged buttocks.

D.