Mud season lasts forever, or so it seems. At least half of it is behind us.
I remember too many mud seasons, at least for driving. You can always squish along by foot, rubber boots, or any boots, and realize we’re halfway through the season.
Remember how cold it was just a short while ago? We were so sick of hard, frozen earth that we couldn’t wait for mud season. At least the mud would be warmer than that hard, cold ground.
A friend today reminded me of the short, steep slippery-by-way-of-leaves trail up the southwest slope of Megunticook Mountain in Camden Hills State Park. But my mind was on mud season, different trails, and even muddy roads. I remember slipping on that mountain trail in Camden, but I also recall some of the muddy trails — and roads — I’ve been on over the years.
I suppose the roads were the worst. After all, our car — whatever brand we were driving at the moment — wasn’t built for mud. It was built for pavement. But in Maine’s spring, the pavement too often becomes mud, or so it seems. And mud is just plain hard to drive through. I’ve never actually become stuck in mud while driving, but there were plenty of times when I knew I was right on the edge of becoming stuck. I don’t know quite why those tires got us through the mud. Actually, what’s important is that they did get us through.
The tires must not have been as worn as I thought they were.
I’ve walked — I think that’s the word — through mud that I thought would unboot me as I walked. Thankfully, my boots never really came off in the mud.
But I thought they would.
But they haven’t yet this year.
That’s why I’m glad mud season is over halfway through. If my boots stay on my feet, that will be a victory.
Mud season. Who will win, feet or boots coming off?
I look out our window and answer my own question. Feet, you better win this year.
Milt Gross can be reached for corrections, harassment, or other purposes at lesstraveledway@roadrunner.com.
