Webbed Ward Run

This morning my first run since Mount Washington. With all the incline and asphalt, I wanted woods...Ward Reservation. 

I misted my body with bug dope, tightened my trainers, and tucked into the woods along a trail that skirted a body of water now abandoned by crafty beavers.  Boardwalks, boulders and roots marked this trail; all was well.

Being the first to meander along these parts, I encountered strands of spider webs across the trail. Not just one web but about 50. Is this what the lead runners face?  This web clearing is a thankless, sticky and annoying task. Thank you to all the lead runners who disassemble these natural nets.

The trail cleared a bit and I settled into my Zen running place while paying homage to a resting little gray brown mole on a rock.

Then I ran full frontal face into the eye of a sticky spider wed. I bounced back a bit, not just from shock but from the thickness and gooey net’s tension. This was not some cute two or three strand wanna-be web. This was arachnid anarchy. This spider was hunting for the big one! 

I freaked out and rapidly swiped my hands over my arms and hat, which were covered in white sticky goo and empty spun sacks. I removed my shirt and swatted my back. 

If the web was that big and effective then I did NOT want to meet its maker: some fat bodied spider with dripping fangs ready to suck me into the shell of what was once the Trail Pixie.

 

While I know spiders have a ton of excellent and beneficial qualities I just can’t cuddle up—except maybe to Charlotte.