Windy Walk on Sandy Ridge / Place of the Skull

The weather looked to be nice for the day, but we had no idea how windy it was going to get when we decided to head up to Sandy Ridge for a hike, after eating our lunch hoagies at Lykens Market in Port Matilda. 

The traffic was weirdly heavy: there had been a major wreck involving semi trucks and some kind of spill, I think. The nearby interstate had been closed in the one direction for hours. It didn't affect us much, but we saw way more vehicles than usual at the red light.

We didn't go to our usual spot, so I didn't get to check on the progress of the amazing vernal pond we visited there last time. Instead, we went to another road, and pulled off into a parking lot where we planned to leave our car and walk back the graveled road and into the woods.

But the wind was fierce, and the road was dry and dusty. It whipped dust everywhere and rocked the car. A truck came by and dusted us. Dusted the whole world. We rethought our plans. Started the car up, headed for the other side of the road. Parked the car, tried again. Not so dusty here. Good enough.

The wind rocked us, though. Grabbed the car door and slammed it, hard, making us both jump. My husband looked in the backseat: where was his daysack? Turns out it had not made it into the car. Fortunately, he had a spare empty sack in the trunk, into which he packed the necessaries: a hoodie, a hat, some drinks.

We grabbed our chairs and daysacks and hiked straight down the hill in a place nearby that we have never been to before! How amazing is that? Above you may see a photo of the pathway down the hill and into the gold. Yes, that's my husband walking ahead of me, with me behind, trying to keep up.

My husband says he thinks these paths go down into Cold Stream, in Philipsburg, and on another day, we'll explore further. It's grassy and the trails are nice. Maybe he can even jog here; who knows?

It was very steep at the start, though. Down, down, down. And I thought with misgivings: every step DOWN is a step you have to go back UP in the end. But down we went, until we reached some regular type forest, instead of the scrubby stuff up on top. And there we put up our chairs and sat.

My husband, of course, had to go off exploring, while I sat with our creatures, minding my own business. Tiny Tiger and the Moose had come along. We sat in the sun in my chair. 

And then my husband returned, holding something behind his back in his hands. He held it out to me: a skull! How amazing! I took it from him and photographed it, set it aside, tried to decide whether to take it along home. I put it on my chair for a photo or two, and so you may see that in the extras. 

And in the end, I did bring it along home. So now it's MY skull! I've always enjoyed finding bones in the wilderness. It's like a private little CSI adventure. Whose bones? What happened? These bones belonged to a white-tailed deer, in fact, a 4-point buck, whose antlers are visible at the top of the skull. "This will always be the Place of the Skull to me," I said.

Much later in the day, in the evening, when my husband and I were sitting laughing about me and the bones, we had this conversation:

Husband: That's how much I love you: I brought you a dead thing!
Me: I saw your hands behind your back. I thought maybe you had picked me some flowers. But I didn't SEE any flowers. Anyway, these are MY bones now!

I didn't care if the bones had cooties or not. I put the skull in a plastic bag, tucked the skull into the side pocket of my daysack, and walked it out and up the hill. I have big plans for these bones for a future photo shoot. You know I mean it!

But as we got back to the car, I had another thought. "What day is it?" I asked my husband. "Good Friday," he said. "The place of the skull," I said musingly. Doesn't it remind you of something? He looked at me. "Golgotha," I said. "It means Place of the Skull." Interesting find for a Good Friday, don't you think?

I've got two photos and so I've got two soundtrack songs. First is Dust in the Wind, by Girl Named Tom. Second is a song for bones: here is Lauren Daigle, with Come Alive (Dry Bones).