Trail Running, Riding for Turtles, and One Crazy Squirrel

River and I ran through the woods this morning. I prefer trail running to running on the road and both forms of outside running beat a treadmill. There are many short circuits into and out of forested areas near my home here in North Carolina. River does not mind running loops and there seems to be more interesting areas to stop and sniff in the woods. I make this observation based on River’s actions; I don’t have the nose for a similar experience.

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This picture was taken less than a quarter mile from my front door. It’s one of the trails we run.

When it comes to exercise, running is often not enough and I add other workouts, cycling being my favorite. Because I ran trails I decided to ride the roads for a couple of more hours before shooting.

Turtles on the road interrupt nearly all rides. When I see them I help them across even when I’m racing against the clock. Today, I was riding easy and there was time for photographs taken of the two turtles I assisted.

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Turtle number one

Turtles have long lives when cars do not squash them. In their world no automobile warnings exist and they simply can’t comprehend the impact of a tire.

I wouldn’t call their moderate pace across a road crazy. Turtles don’t grasp that their mobile home provides no protection to the weight of a vehicle. Squirrels on the other hand seemingly have a limited understanding of cars and make an attempt to get out of the way – too often an unsuccessful back and forth rally made in hope of confusing the four-wheeled beast barreling down upon them.

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Turtle number two

Given the limited awareness of danger squirrels have I was mystified by one of the grey fellows today. While shooting a squirrel decided to forage a few feet to the side of my target. Clearly, this squirrel recognized that I am not a 15-year-old boy. Otherwise, its life would have been in peril.

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You can see the squirrel on the side of the pine tree. It’s about 6 feet from my target on the left and twenty yards away from me.

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