read closely this is clever and fun. I don't think that I will be able to ever encapsulate myself in six words - but my general subject lines can. (on a bad day I came up with "born in California, downhill from there").


Another 12 mile day.

This time, the Blue Ridge Parkway, just up from our valley.


Drove up, parked, hiked UPHILL six miles and then returned. It seemed easier in some ways than last weeks, but harder in others. I didn't drink enough water the last 3 miles and i'm now suffering one of those exertion headaches usually driven by a long run in the heat.

Miles 1-3: A little like meditation, it takes effort to purge the brain of trivialities (TV shows, to-do lists, etc.). Main thoughts...cake decoration. Mentally decorated a certain work person's retirement jello cake (which is super silly, because the retirement is wishful thinking), spent the rest of the time trying to figure out how in the world to construct an Indian Jones and the Temple of Doom ice cream cake.

Miles 3-6: The trouble with out-and-back is that when the 'out' is pretty much the uphill slog, then mile 6 feels like the achievement. Thus, halfway through I mentally felt done. I did count a bit to get to that most uphill point. keeping the view to myself, i worked for it. :)

Miles 6-9: Now THIS bit had rhythm. Slogged past Rattlesnake Lodge ruins, encountered some German hikers, and spent a good mile or so trying to recall jr. high school German class nouns and creating pleasant conversation in mein kopf.

Miles 9-12: Part of this bit looks like this. Hiking along, I passed a gaggle of camera-carriers hovering around what I thought should have been something mobile, like a butterfly or bird. But no...they were flower hunters and I got a glimpse of something pink as I sped past


I returned via vehicle for a closer look.

The best part of the hike was when I was at mile 10.5...I met a gentleman hiker volunteering for the Carolina Mountain Club. Over the course of about 10 min. I learned that he was originally from Chile, lived for years in upstate new york, believed in global warming and zoning, retired to NC 20 years ago after crossing over the Great Smokey Mountains and realizing he was 'home' - he also declared that I'd found my mountains, that I would never leave, and that someday I would remember him saying so. His name was Jorge and he reminded me of my grandfather. lovely day.