On Monday, I headed north on the Rock Creek Park Trail from Mile 0 on the Canal hoping to meet up with a south-bound Jake Marren. Little did I know, Mr. Marren had left a message on my dead phone indicating he wouldn't likely be able to meet up due to a late start on his part. Needless to say, my plan was to run up Zoo Hill and head back south along Connecticut, but the entrance was locked shut. I could have snaked my way in, but I feared the entrance on Connecticut (being that it was past dusk) was also shut. Images of climbing barb wire fences and falling into pits teeming with beasts did not appeal to me. So, I made a left up the fabled Klingle Road (see photo). Towpath mentions Klingle Road at least once a week, so I decided I would give it a shot. I snuck past the fence and began to run up, up and up. Klingle Road is like a valley that cuts up from Beach Drive, travels under Connecticut and end in neighborhoods west of Adams Morgan. It is dark and sketchy, but peaceful. When I emerged at the top I saw a bearded man with wild hair and Manson-like eyes staggering towards me. I clenched my fist and prepared to defend myself. It was only after a street lamp cast light in his direction that I realized it was Jake Marren. I unclenched my fist, laughed and said something catchy...like "hey". Marren shook his head and then led me back to Connecticut. We ran together until we reached the other side of the Woodley Bridge then bid each other adieu. I coasted back to work feeling pretty good for a Monday.
I ran a solo 8 on Tuesday morning and felt kind of blah. In order to stay slow, I opted for the snowy trails. While chasing after a couple of white tails, I looked up and saw an owl. Immediately after a great blue heron swept past the creek. I am always amazed with how much wildlife exists just off the bike path. I crept along until I realized it was time to turn back. I looped through the Garrett Park neighborhood and felt a little bounce in my stride as I ran back home.