But, a week later, it "clicked", and then the sensitivity returned. 
I didn't think that I would be going on any more bikerides, since hunting season began, and I didn't think that things would warm up again. 
But, roughly two weeks after my previous bikeride, we wound up getting heat for the first two days of autumn! I thought that the first day (September 23'rd) was going to be cloudy, but turned out to be sunny and hot. But, there was a merged birthday party for my dad, brother, and his wife's mother, anyways (their birthdays fell on different dates but reasonably close together), so I didn't want to take off that day. While I don't usually go on weekends, when more people would be out recreating in the backcountry, I decided to go anyways, on Saturday, September 24'th, a day that Environment Canada was forecasting sunshine with a high of 30˚C, or 86˚F (normal high for that day is 17˚C, or 62.6˚F) I hoped that the weekend hunters would miss my Crescent Road pond that day. 
I decided to take my anti-inflammatory - Diclofenac (with Misoprostol for the stomach) just in case my right knee gave me problems climbing into the mountains. I took one at breakfast, and wrapped two up for later in the day, to be taken only if I did feel more sensitivity afterwards. I chose to wear a red t-shirt along with my red hat, because it was hunting season, and no deer wear red. Because I got up an hour later than last time (6 am instead of 5), and therefore was leaving later than last time, and because the days had shortened so much since my last bikeride, forcing me to return home an hour earlier, I would have only one sink instead of two. Because I knew that the cleanup water was going to be too cold to comfortably clean my head and shoulders, and that there would be a cold layer of mud near the surface, this sink would be limited to my lower chest, meaning that my last bikeride's sink was the last underbog sink of the year. This time, the sink would be off-camera, where I would just take in the experience and have lots of stimulating fun struggling in it.
When I left, I got only a few houses down before I realized that I forgot my camera, forcing me to return home to retrieve it.
I was finally on my way at 8:48 am, quite a bit later than I had hoped, but I wasn't planning on a really long day up there, anyways. I found that around 12 noon, I was still not that far up the climb, while in the past, I was almost at the top of the climb by then. I watched the vehicles that went up and down, and only one or two had atv's, while others had boats, kayaks, or inflatables, stuff meant for the larger lakes, meaning that perhaps my pond would be nice and private. As I got closer to the top, when I stopped to get out my first Pizza Pop and began to eat it while biking, I noticed that my right knee began to feel some pressure, like something sharp was inside it! So, once again, sensitivity returned before I reached the top of the climb , but at least I made it most of way without any problems, and the sensitivity didn't get any worse. So, after I had lunch while biking, I took another pill to last the afternoon. The wind was really gusting from the south, and the sun felt really hot, definitely wonderful sinking weather! If only the water/mud wasn't typically cooling so much at this time of year, I would have been able to have one more underbog sink! I walked my bike up the steep initial part of Crescent Road, to spare my knee any more stress. I once again glanced at the seasonal marshy areas below the east side of the road, how it was bare black mud drying out, with tufts of grass and full of cattle tracks. Things have dried out quite a bit.
I was also happy that I saw no cattle so far, and hoped that my pond would be free of them, since I had been so concerned about any stumbling into my bog. But, just as I got close to my destination, I saw the first bovine (bull calf) of the day. I hoped that I wouldn't encounter any others closer to my destination. I turned onto my sideroad, and noticed that the puddles have dried up even more, with only one (I think) having any water left. The mud was full of cattle tracks from a long period of time, as well as old tire ruts. But, no sign of any fresh tire tracks! Perhaps this area would remain secluded enough for me to sink without worry! As I passed by the easternmost pond and rounded its north end on the road, I suddenly came across more cattle!
I hoped they would go off the road, but instead kept running down the road in front of me. But, when I got closer to the side trail I was to go down, I hoped that they would continue down the road, since they hadn't left the road when I wanted them to. But, as luck would have it, they finally left the road, but went down the same side trail I went down, to the area north of my main pond. There were more cattle around the shaded spot I wanted to drop my bike off at, but they scattered when I approached. It was around 1:45 pm. I decided to lean my bike against a nearby tree slightly off the path, so it would be out of the path of the cattle. I got out all my things, just in case I was able to do a video (junk shorts, margarine container with my gorillapod), or have an underbog sink (swim goggles, PVC breathing pipe, bag for putting on my hair to keep it clean and dry), which would be if the water turned out to be warmer than I was anticipating. I swapped memory cards in my camera, and with all my things, including a bottle of Kool-Aid, I was on my way. I thought about trying to take a picture of mud exposed in the center of the north end of the pond, but the lighting and level of the mud was such that it was very hard to discern the mud from the water (one shade of black partially surrounded by another shade of black). I didn't feel like taking more pictures of the same spots along the way that I took last time, so I passed them by. They looked much the same, anyways. I headed over to my main sinking spot, dropped my things off in the shade of some alders, and took a couple pictures of the bog, which was still fairly damp on top due to less sun to dry it out. Also, my mushing of the surface last time reduced the stiffness of the surface. There was a baby frog or toad hopping across the bog, but I didn't have a chance to take a picture of it, because it took off too quickly, and was too far away to get a good picture of it, since it was so small.
I got undressed but left on my glasses, since I wasn't going to go under. I was going to wear my red hat, but had changed my mind while walking from my bike to the area, because the wind kept on blowing it off. The strong wind was another reason I never bothered with any videos, since it would have rendered the audio unusable.
I returned to the bog, and then walked over to the pond, where I checked out the water just northeast of the bog. It wasn't as frigid as I had thought, but still too cool for cleaning my head and shoulders. So, a submersion was out of the question. I then decided not to waste any more time, and get started with what was likely to be my final sink of the year! So, after the testing the water while standing on the mat of rushes that was floating on mud, I began to first walk northward, the ground covered with sedge grass and tiny rushes bouncing like a waterbed around me, thinking about how "dangerous" this swamp was, that people had disappeared from sight here. I then reached more "solid", more grassy, ground, and then turned southward, thinking about how I had finally reached more solid ground, but then suddenly stepped onto the middle of a large bare patch of ground which immediately swallowed me up to my thighs!
I was "stuck", and with each move I made, the quaking earth sucked me down deeper!
I suddenly "realized" that I had stepped into one of the "deadly" bogs that people were warned about! I would struggle, pretending to try to get out, only to sink deeper. I tried pushing down on the ground around me, only to have it give way. It rose up my crotch and then up my waist, feeling so nice and thick, with a certain body part stiffening and lengthening. 
The mud did feel a bit cold closer to the surface now, but I knew it would gradually warm up to me. Deeper down, it was also a bit chilly around my feet, but just cool in between. I could feel occasional bubbles of swamp gas rising along my body, to finally fart at the surface, which added to the experience. I would pause and then struggle some more, pushing my hands down around me repeatedly, to try and push myself up, only to wind up punching more holes in the stiffer surface, and mushing it up more into softer gooier stuff. I loved the feel of the thick doughy ooze which held me tightly in its grip, and continued to struggle. I would try reaching for solid ground, but it was out of reach all around me! The only thing within my grasp was undulating thick quagmire!But, as luck would have it, my left leg began to develop cramps on the right side of the thigh!
I had to therefore pause for a long while to wait for it to finally subside before resuming my struggles. But then, the left side of that thigh began to seize up with cramps as well , but I found that bending it slightly helped, and it subsided more quickly than the other side did. Then, I was able to resume struggling some more, until my right leg began to develop cramps in the thigh! So, I had to wait again for it to subside, relaxing and keeping the leg slightly bent, which felt better. Once it finally subsided, I was able to resume my struggling again, with no more cramps! When I had first discovered that we were out of PowerAde (with electrolytes) the night before, I had a feeling that leg cramps might become an issue on this trip! I kept struggling but stopped myself from sinking past my nipples, since that was roughly the upper limit that I wanted to sink to, since cleanup of the higher parts was more work, and also much more uncomfortable from the colder water. All my pushing down into the mud around me was causing the mud to be depressed away from my body, but with a peak of broken stiffer surface mud immediately around me. I was finding that as I pushed down on the mud around me, it was making my wrists sore when I used the palm of my hands, so I occasionally pushed down with my fists, which didn't hurt as much, but caused the ground to give way beneath them more readily. Finally, I began to struggle vigorously, imagining that I was going to be sucked down to my death beneath the surface of the doughy, undulating ooze, my stimulation rising up to convulsions of ecstasy!
I then continued to linger and struggle, nipple deep in the doughy ooze, which had such a firm grip on me. Periodically, I would feel more bubbles of swamp gas rise up to my feet, slowly rise along my legs, up my abdomen, to finally fart at the surface. I would often wiggle myself where the bubble was, to help it rise up. I had been feeling a little bit chilled, and was shivering slightly the whole time, but it wasn't too bad, and the enjoyment I got from the experience far outshined any few shivers.
In the past, I had laid low on the mud to shelter myself from the wind gusts, thanks to the surrounding grass. But this time, with only my head and upper chest sticking out, I still caught the full force of the wind, which, while a warm wind, was still cool enough to provide some discomfort. I noticed that the grass immediately surrounding the bog, which used to provide a slight windbreak, had since been eaten by the cattle, removing my source of shelter! But, when the wind died down, the sun would really feel nice and hot on my skin, giving me more shivers, but this time, from the warming up. As I lingered and struggled, I noticed that the mud was starting to feel less cold, because it was absorbing the heat from my body. But at the same time, I was losing heat from my body into the mud. But, I didn't feel any progressively colder, or I would have left already. I kept my hands in the mud off to the sides, with the mud warming up to them as well. Periodically, I would feel swamp gas bubble from the mud onto one of my submerged hands, which felt interesting, and then would fart or hiss at the surface. Bubbles of swamp gas that exited the mud along my body would make farting sounds, while the bubbles of swamp gas that exited the mud away from my body made hissing sounds. I periodically lifted my hands slightly, and the mud would feel warmer. I also worked myself up slightly higher as well before sinking back down again, keeping myself clean above my nipples. I continued to enjoy the mire for quite some time, since this was likely the last day I could do this until next year. I loved the feeling of the "form-fitting" ground, which fit my body like a tight glove, or like being sucked into the rubbery surface of a balloon turning outside-in! 
I noticed a band of small broken clouds to the south which slowly moved closer, until the odd one began to hide the sun. But, I was glad they were small, and the sun came back quickly, because to lose the sun would tip the scales just enough to make me have to leave the wonderful mud. But, I noticed that a long shadow from a tree to the southwest was moving towards me, and was already over the west side of the bog! But fortunately, it swept by quickly, and I was back in the sun. However, it was an indication that it was getting late, and I should call it quits soon, before even more tree shadows moved in for the remainder of the day, which would bring to an end to the warm sunshine on the bog.
I had myself worked slightly higher, which resulted in me pulling up softer gooier mud from below, which had a really nice look to it, like brown dough (which has an orangy tint to it until it gets exposed to the air). I put my hands down into the mire closer to me, which swallowed them down up the arms, and started to struggle vigorously, slowly sinking down steadily, deeper and deeper into the sucking ooze, looking at the smoother textured stuff immediately around me, imagining that I was now going to sink to my death without stopping, the entire bog quaking around me, including the stiffer surface further away, the feel of it holding me so tightly bringing my stimulation once again up to convulsions of ecstasy!
Now I decided that it was time to call it a day before everything became shaded off. I also had yet to mush up the remaining stiff mud to make the surface of a homogeneous texture. I lifted my legs up and then wiggled my body straight and repeated that process, with me rising higher and higher each time, with more swamp gas rising up along my body again to fart at the surface. But leg cramps were returning again, which made that process a bit more difficult. But I continued, and then managed to wiggle myself up to my waist before I couldn't work myself up any higher. So, I worked myself backwards, into a sitting position, partially on the stiffer mire, and then began to work my legs up to the surface, starting with my left leg, finally having it laying flat on the surface. I then worked my right leg up, and was able to crawl to solid ground, pushing the mud off my legs and smoothing the mud slightly. However, while I was working my legs out, my left knee suddenly clicked, something that I hadn't heard that knee do in many years, the same click that started my right knee pain!
I just hoped that it wasn't anything, since my left knee hadn't had that pain in over a decade, and it was my strong knee, which I had been using as a slight "crutch" for my right knee, which I had been trying to get over the pain from recently. While I was walking around on the northeast side, I did break through the fragile mat of rushes there into softer mud below, making me wish I had more time so that I could eliminate that cover there to expand the mudpit. I went to my things to check the time on my watch, and saw that it was some time after 3 pm, definitely too late for any expansion of my patch of quagmire.
I had an hour at most to mush up the stiffer top layer of mud around the edges, clean up, dry off, get dressed, pack my things and be on my bike and heading for home.So I returned to the bog, but found that I couldn't easily crawl through the mud on my knees to do the mud mushing around the edges, thanks to the annoying leg cramps.
So, I instead decided to just carefully kneel, with some pain from the cramping, on the more "solid" mat of vegetation floating on mud around the outer edge and push down the surface of the exposed mud in my mudpit with my hands to even out the level of the mud, which was faster. The stiffer layer wasn't as thick as before, due to things not drying out as quickly as before thanks to the time of the year. I started on the southwest side and went clockwise, until I had the entire patch of ground roughly level, having to do some slight smoothing of some dips here and there. After that, I checked the time, noticing that it was some time around 3:30 pm.Now it was time to get cleaned up, but the shadows of the trees were already starting to creep over the edge of the pond. I chose one spot northeast of the bog, roughly close to the area I had cleaned up before. I kneeled on the floating mat of rushes at the edge of the pond, with the mat sagging under my weight, allowing water to pour over top. I had to swish away colder muddier water to try bringing in warmer clearer water to clean myself up and began to clean up, starting with my arms, which were muddy up to the elbows, and then to my chest, which was muddy up to my nipples. But, it was a bit more awkward for my back. I then headed over to a different spot on the shoreline, further to the south, kneeling on the weeds again, which sagged down under my weight, allowing me to kneel in water again, which moved in over the weeds I was kneeling on. I cleaned my back and front a bit, but found that once again the thick mud had left a brown residue on my skin, which I had to rub a fair bit to remove. I got up and headed further inland in the meadow, finding some moss, which I took back to the pond's edge. I rubbed my skin with the moss, and the residue vanished immediately. I cleaned from the top down, stood up, and did my legs and feet. I then headed to drier ground and air-dried, noticing how the clouds were increasing in number, with the sun occasionally going behind one but then coming back out nicely for my drying.
While the sun was behind some clouds, I took a couple of pictures of the bog, since it caused the shadows of the trees to disappear, making the lighting on the bog even:
I got dressed, switched memory cards in my camera, gathered my things, and before heading to my bike, stopped at my sinking spot to jump on the grass beside it a few final times to watch it quake, walking away, turning back, taking one last look at it, bidding it "goodbye" until next year, and then returned to my bike.
The cattle had returned, and the small herd had congregated around my bike, with one laying on the ground a few feet away. I was glad that I had my bike in an upright position, since they could have done damage if they had stepped on it. They scattered as I approached, and put my things away in my bike. As I walked my bike eastward out of that area and southward up the trail leading to the dirt sideroad to the east, I made a wide circle around the cattle that had moved to the clearing west of the trail there, so they won't have to run away again. On the sideroad, I got back on my bike, and was on my way home some time around 4:08 pm.
On the way back, I stopped to chase a garter snake off the road, and also found some small shaggy mane mushrooms, mostly in the button stage. Those were the only ones I found, probably because it had been too hot and dry for them to really appear yet. The clouds had been increasing in number, and I was happy that they held off until the end of the day.
As I biked, I was a bit distressed to notice that my left leg, which had been always my strong leg since it hadn't had knee pain in over a decade, was now starting to hurt!
Looks like that click while extracting my left leg from the mud was the old injury I had in that knee back in the 90's re-happening! I needed that leg as a "crutch" for my bad right leg, but now, with both of my legs suffering from the same problem with the top of each one's fibula, I was feeling rather worried about my chances of any other bikerides this year, although I felt that this could be the last one for the season anyways, with a fall and winter to heal. I had an early supper of Pizza Pops, chocolate chunk cookies, sweet'n salty nut/granola bar and salt'n vinegar chips, to give me energy for the trip home. Afterwards, after getting back into the valley, I took my last diclofenac I had with me to help with any inflammation. I had to keep on being careful pedaling, but I think that the anti-inflammatory helped, because by the time I got home some time before 7:30 pm, just as it was getting dark, the increasing irritation in my left leg wasn't as bad as it was in my right leg the time the injury had first recurred the previous month. I was also able to walk around pain-free and not be limping around that evening, unlike in the previous month when the right knee started getting sore during the bikeride. So, medication I was taking for controlling a problem in one knee had reduced the initial impact of the fresh recurrence of the same problem in the other knee.
Once again, the day turned out to be better than I thought it would be.
I thought that with my right knee clicking a week earlier, that the refreshed injury would result in pain showing up very early in my climb, or even before my climb. But, it held off once again until I had lunch, and didn't get any worse. But, my right knee clicking for the first time in over a decade while escaping the thick mire, and the subsequent dreaded sensitivity afterwards was a bit disconcerting, since it took me a number of years to put it behind me, and had many subsequent years of no problems with it, until now! However, it seems as though my right knee feels more sensitive than the left, although I occasionally still feel something in my left knee. Hopefully my knees will be better by next spring, and my dad will be able to give me lifts back into the mountains again (he is driving again), saving me half a trip, as well as the climb into the mountains. I feel that once again, the anti-inflammatory medication (diclofenac) saved the day, and without it, I might have not even made it up into the mountains. I only have 3 pills left, enough for one more day, if I need it. The day was sunny and warm, with Environment Canada recording a high of 30.2˚C (86.4˚F) for Vernon, compared with an average high of 17˚C (62.6˚F) for September 24'th. I think we hit a record for that day. It was also a bit windy, another reason I didn't want to do any shooting of my sinking, since the audio would have been horrible. I wished that the mud/water hadn't cooled down yet (surface water did get warmer at the end of the day but was too thin a layer), since I so badly wanted to submerge beneath the surface and linger there, breathing through the pvc pipe. The doughy ooze, when not forced too much, had a firm, rubbery "give" to it, and when crawling on the surface, it felt rubbery and bouncy, and would slowly give way to suck you in. But, at least I did enjoy the struggling to nipple deep in the thick ooze, and even though there was some slight discomfort from the cool temperature of the mud, which did warm up a bit over time around me, the enjoyment I got from the sink far outshined the slight shivers. I knew that the discomfort would be progressively worse each week, which makes me uncertain about another sink this year, even if warm air did move back in.
My leg cramps showed up during the sink, much worse than recently, and was a bit problematic when I wanted to work the sides of the bog at the end of the day. I wondered if it had to do with the fact that I didn't have any drinks with electrolytes this time, although it could have been because of things cooling off more, or a combination of the two.
Anyways, I hope that next year things will be different, with earlier starts in the mornings in the mountains thanks to my dad giving me lifts again, preventing me from stressing my knees to the point of re-injuring them. I also hope not to have any other injuries that would keep my adventures so far apart, and that the optimal weather doesn't get delayed the way it had been these past two years. I will keep my fingers crossed, in hopes that my big 6-month break between bikerides will allow me to heal, although my right knee has still given the occasional click (my left knee might have done the same as well), which I fear renews the problem, the latest occurring in mid-December.