When: Tuesday–During the Afternoon- 3/6/2018
Weather: Sunny and mid-60’s, mid-afternoon
There seems to be a conspiracy to prevent me from completing my walks. With limited variations in the loops, I have available from my house, closing down a sidewalk at a critical point leaves the walk almost in a “reboot” position. As I headed out of the neighborhood before reaching the train tracks, I saw a Detour sign. I realized this meant the path I was preparing to walk on was closed. The irony was the detour was pointing me back in the direction I just came from.
Ignoring the sign, I proceeded as if I owned the sidewalk. My ownership ended at the train tracks where trucks were working on the other side to try and fix some failing from the previous closure. Within the past few months, drainage pipes had been put under the sidewalk. Quite a few yards of the sidewalk had been completed replaced. Apparently, the recent heavy rains created enough decoration of some of the recently done work to warrant an additional closure and repair. I didn’t bother asking anyone. I was concerned my, “Do you really know more about fixing a sidewalk then I do?” Voice would be difficult to silence. So, I turned around and retraced my steps.
I could have chosen to go straight back home, or I could choose to detour around the closure and pick up my walk on the other side. The neighborhood along the tracks was virgin walking territory for me. I didn’t know where the courts, cul-de-sacs or wrap-around roads were at. While I didn’t choose the best path, I didn’t choose the worst one either. The street I was on ended in a concrete swale for the excessive water. Since it was almost dry, I was easily able to hop across and find my way onto the dead-end street on the other side. For me, it was not a dead-end. I was coming in on the “dead” part and able to head back out to the road where my walk normally took me.
The rest of the walk was simple. Apparently, those I passed or intersected could see the great mental strain finding the detour created. (It didn’t really.). On the other side of the detour, the people were friendly. Nearly everyone said “hello” or at least kept their little lap dog from attempting to inflict bodily pain on me.