What a misnomer. Not a single bad kitty sighting. (For reference: please read this post, at least the beginning). By conservative estimates, I had to dodge at least 6 tons of horse manure on the trail so
perhaps it ought to be renamed something along those lines I will be starting a petition to rename it.
Would it be wrong to say I’m just a wee bit disappointed?
Perhaps I should stick to Tiger Mountain, where I have no expectations of meeting the mountain’s name sake? There’s always Squak, which is nestled between the Big Cats (and no one, including myself, actually calls them that). I don’t know what a ‘squak’ is, but it doesn’t sound carnivorous. Or feline. Except one of the high points on Squak is called Poo Poo Point. I wish that was a joke. I’m too immature to run up a mountain to a place called Poo Poo Point.
I just can’t.
So… Horse Manure Mt. was pretty. I had to drive through suburban hell to get there so the beauty of the mountain was even more impressive compared to the cookie cutter sprawl at the base. It was sunny and warm (and steep) in the first part of our route. Warm enough that my lunch tried to rebel. Snarl.
Training in a hilly city like Seattle absolutely does not help when trying to run up a mountain (even if the total elevation classifies it as more of a big hill than a real mountain). Just in case you were wondering.
My weekend plans?
Dodging more horse poo, naturally.