Procrastination can take many forms, sometimes it even wears the guise of a celebration. I should have been doing homework, but with the semester almost at an end, freedom was too close not to take a taste. No, I did not go on a hike to celebrate the almost-end of my first year as a grad student, and exorbitant quantities of reading and “thinking.” I slipped some plastic out of my wallet, sat before the all powerful glowing screen of my laptop and shopped, an activity I don't take lightly.
Probably every child in
The clue said “See two trees of similar size with several large rocks behind them. A dead tree lies across one rock…”
I've maxed out my library card borrowing picture books. That’s how I’m getting my kicks these days. No, I’m not pregnant. I’m thrill-seeking. Parenting is a series of adrenaline rushes, one after another, but it isn’t perfect.
The problem with kids is that they don't last.
It's a good question if you have to do one of those group let's-get-to-know-everyone-real-fast things, though I don’t generally care to sit in a circle of strangers trying to sum myself up with abstract witticisms. Alright, I enjoy it a little bit, if the question is good and something witty comes to mind. In general the super power question is an entertaining one.
First you get an idea. The second step is research. (Warning: step two can, and often does, lead to more ideas, putting you right back at step one. It’s a vicious cycle.)
In this case the idea was hiking the
A few years back I’d picked up an audio book for a dollar thinking it might come in handy for a boring road trip someday. No such road trip had materialized. I found it, popped it in the stereo, turned up the volume and started washing dishes.
A smooth voice announced, “Bantam, Doubleday Dell Publishing presents, A Walk In The Woods: Rediscovering America on the Appalachian Trail by Bill Bryson.”
Osmosis being my preferred method for acquiring knowledge, I expected to be a happy camper. I was more than happy.
The first descriptive phrase the author inflicted upon himself, in reference to his life, was “waddlesome sloth.” The second was "cupcake."
"Are you kidding?" I asked frozen in disbelief. No, she wasn't kidding. "Leave No Trace," I’d heard that somewhere before. Through a fog of incredulity I tried to imagine how the phrase might be applied to me.
“Some people even carry out their solid waste."
Shit. Solid waste? “As in, they shit in a bag and carry it out with them?" I asked.
Tara nodded.
Names are important... even when hiking. On the Appalachian Trail (AT) it’s customary to choose a trail name. Perhaps this is true on other trails as well, but it seems to be especially true on the AT.
Signing into the logbook our first trip, my hiking partner Tara, pen in hand, asked what my trail name was.
"Trail Name?" I asked right back. I had no idea. “I don’t have one. I don’t think I need one,” I said.
"That's awful,"
I searched my soul, fished around for other ideas and after very little further deliberation decided to go with it.
I’ve been waiting for this all year and finally it is here – mosquito season! [Insert maniacal laughter here.] I’m not kidding. All winter there has been virtually nothing to struggle against, no adversaries worthy of a good fight. A little cold and snow? Bah! The mosquito, however, lends just the sort of challenge to keep a girl on her toes, to make her feel alive…
Confession: I went on vacation and did not hike. It’s my mother-in-law’s fault. She’s quite a temptress. She dangled free beach front lodgings in front of us. We salivated, nodded and said something nearly as articulate as, “yeah, uh huh, that sounds good.”
So last weekend I found myself on the Cape (that’s
But my vacation was not all sun and roses.
.jpg)
What better way to celebrate the winter solstice than hiking? Let the brisk cold air freeze your nostril hairs together. Wear several constrictive layers of long underwear. Pray for purchase as you crunch and slip over the unpredictable winter terrain.
Everyone should commune with nature on midwinter’s eve, unless you have a headache or you’re tired, in which case you should watch The Dark Crystal.
The reasons why one should watch this Jim Henson masterpiece are limitless, but for hikers and nature enthusiasts this epic film adventure holds special appeal.
Mahatma Gandhi believed that the ends do not justify the means (or so I have heard). He is most famous for applying this to India's struggle for independence. He condemned the use of violence to attain freedom. For hiking, we can extrapolate that one should not toil away in misery just to see sweeping vistas and panoramic splendor. One should only toil away in misery and pain if one finds at least a modicum of pleasure in it. I myself enjoy at little pain with my pleasure, but panoramic splendor just isn’t for me. Therefore, getting to the top of the mountain is inconsequential in the grand hiking scheme. (I know; I’m a rebel.)
I have been known to go to the tops of mountains but this is always a self-sacrificial homage to compromise. I suffer through being surrounded by open space and steep drop offs, in hopes that I’ll be humored on the way back down. On the descent I will doubtlessly be entranced by woodland sprites who’ll compel me to watch the light pass over fern fronds next to a babbling brook. Of course there will be a moss covered log or two. Rotting logs are my favorite, especially when they’re all fungusy.
On the topic of fungus, I’m on a mushroom quest. Regrettably the quest is in a sad state. I had such high hopes for my mushroom field guide, but beyond giving the common and scientific names, where it grows and a description, it really doesn't say much. I find this most irritating. I am generally quite content to make up my own names, thank you.
What I want to know is everything else. What that everything else might be is nicely summarized by this Science Friday interview of mycologist Roy Halling, president of the Mycology Society of America.
Yep, this is the kind of information I’d like to have… now I just have to get my fingers on more than a field guide.
[Note: If you want to know more about mushrooms, please check out the awesome blog written by Cornell's mycology department. I have also added a link to Science Friday, because they are just cool. Both are now listed in my "links of interest." I didn't photograph Gandhi. This particular photo is used so frequently that I can't imagine it is copyrighted. I hope this is true and that the piracy gods don't smite me.]
In a mere two and a half years, I’ve managed to hike 44 miles, an astonishing 2% of the way from
Caution – Danger – Be Warned
The Appalachian Trail Conservancy website lists 32 published AT memoirs. The number of hikers completing the entire trail has roughly doubled every decade since the 70s. Obviously, these memoirs are contagious. The more people who hike the trail and live to tell, the more people hear about the AT. It’s an insidious process really.
One night at dinner, I found a thru-hiker had been deposited at my dining room table. She was a friend of a friend of a friend. Upon arriving she proceeded to eat a full portion of my beloved in-season brussels sprouts while declaring that they didn’t really “agree with” her. Unfortunately, I’d misplaced my BB gun.
My friend got a dog. My friend lost ten pounds. All of a sudden I wanted a dog too. Vanity motivates me to an embarrassing degree.
There I am, running through the woods in slow motion, smiling. Dog turns his big furry head and I can read his mind, “This is fun, let’s run together forever.” I think, “Yes, Dog, let’s run free forever." A glistening touch of perspiration on my brow refracts rainbows of light into the camera. Dog starts to do something strange with his backside, kind of hunkering down and quivering. Cut! I have to pick up warm fresh trailside deposits.
So, I hadn’t yet gone to the pound to find my own live-in personal trainer. I was innocently traipsing through the woods with my steadfast hiking buddy Tara. “You should write a blog, Annie,” she said. The topic of conversation previous to this frightening turn had been my speculative career as a writer. She said the words "write a blog” with apparent sincerity and a complete lack of malice.
I believe I stopped in my tracks. “No way. I would never blog."
Apparently this response angered my Muse. From that moment, I was a cursed
Posts
All Comments
