To your heart’s content in Hermit’s Cave

#FOWAllTrailsChallenge

“I wish we’d brought Kermit to the cave of the hermit,” I said to Luca as we passed the trail marker.

“But we’d probably need a permit to bring Kermit to the hermit,” he said matter-of-factly.

“If your hand feels too clean, you can touch the ground and germ it.”

“When the shoreline erodes, sometimes they berm it.”

“If you want straight hair to be curly, you can pin it or perm it.”

“If your hook needs a lure, you can bob it or worm it.”

“To settle an issue quickly, you can try to short-term it.”

“Did you enjoy the new film starring Dylan McDermott?!”

“Mom, what are you even talking about?”

Town and Country on the Cresheim Trail

#FOWAllTrailsChallenge

More to come

dobedobedoooo

The McCallum Street Bridge that spans above the trail blends into it, as well.

I’ll write stuff here later.

Motivation in Andorra Meadow

#FOWAllTrailsChallenge

When the pandemic started and the world stopped, I began hiking again. Everywhere. I’d open the AllTrails app, pick a trail within an hour’s drive, and head out with my young son. Later a scrappy Basenji mix we adopted and named Lily Birdie, aka Lil’ Bird, also came along.

Andorra Meadow was one of many new-to-me trails in that first isolated year. Winter was melting and the bright, neon green lichen covering the ground lifted my spirit. Luca’s vibe was opposite.

“How much longer?” he asked, over and over and over again, as he exaggeratingly stomped forward. Then he spotted a forest hut fashioned from fallen branches and promptly ran away to climb inside, smiling.

Luca’s smile beamed from behind the branches.

His change in attitude felt familiar and reminded me of a story my family loves to tell.

My mom on the Beehive Basin Trail in Montana, 1990s.

We were backpacking in Montana on the Beehive Basin Trail. My cousin Nikki and I were nearly out of steam as we trudged one heavy foot in front of the other up a hill. Our aunt Debbie and uncle Neil, and my mom and brother Ian, were already at the top. Neil could sense our lack of motivation, so he came up with one for us and excitedly yelled down.

“Girls! There’s a pop machine up here!”

The race was on! The promise of a glacier-cold, carbonated beverage (that everyone outside of Minnesota calls “soda”) was exactly what we needed to cross the finish line.

When we did, Nikki and I didn’t find a pop machine – just our family dispensing laughs.