Steep hike, very short

I was out of bed by 6 this morning.  Yes, doubters, I did it.  Since coming back from the trip gloating about the trogon, I've been shamelessly lazy.  To get any exercise outdoors here, one must be up ridiculously early.  Six wasn't early enough, but it's a start.

It was 7 by the time I got out of the car at North Mountain Park and headed straight up hill.  That hadn't been my intention, but that's the trail I found myself on, shrugged, kept going.  Sun's up, no time to reconnoiter.  All types traipse up and down this trail in the morning.  I can tell most of them are regulars.  They are in a hurry; many have dogs; they have that go-get'm tension about them.  Me, I stop a lot to pant and look for birds.  Us fat ones exchange knowing looks and grins.  One wizened old man with C-shaped back and deeply striated leathery calves astonished me; I stared.

I saw a pair of Gambel's quail with their ridiculous topknots, looking like they'd lost the parade.  Then a young family of cactus wrens, naively fearless, buzzing and hopscotching around.  Next a pair of broad-tailed hummingbirds, male with startling crimson throat, playing tag among the scrubby branches of creosote bush and palo verde.

Before the summit, I sensed my limits and headed back down.  I might have done a mile, in all, but my leg muscles were in shock.  No complaints from the knee, yay!  Still only 75 degrees at 8 am, the radio claimed, but it felt closer to 90 on the hill in the blazing sun.  Next time, 5 am.