Snowy hike

Snow covered baseball field where we spend our summers.

Squirrel footprints on a tree across the ravine.

Hopping footprints.

This morning I took a 2 mile hike in the woods around 5 minutes from my house. Nestled in this park are the baseball and soccer fields, a couple playgrounds, and some pavilions. It’s a beautiful park and I had it to myself today. I did 2 laps and the second time around I stepped alongside my original path so the tracks looked like someone had been hopping. I’m easy to amuse. We spent the rest of the day doing Christmas returns so it was nice to get some sunshine, even though it was only 9* out. 


We got an inch or so of snow today and it’s really pretty so we went for a long, blustery walk with the dogs. Time for  cocooning.

The needles are starting to drop but it’s still a pretty little tree.

Distracted by the cat.

Baby It’s Cold Outside

I always walk the dogs in the morning so that doesn’t really count. But yesterday I managed to scrape together some self control and go for a walk at lunch while my co-workers stayed inside where it’s nice and cozy. We do a thing where lunch is shared once a week and 2 people volunteer to bring something hot in crock pots. Sadly one of the choices was Mac and cheese, but really just a bowl of plain, overlooked shell pasta that people were trying to surreptitiously throw it out when no one was looking. This is only important because I opted to walk instead of struggling through lunch. It was very cold and windy, around 22* but I bundled up and walked around the CWRU campus.

2 Years Later

Two years, 10 pounds and one more dog later and I just came up with the brilliant idea that I should start hiking! On the canal! How original! Then I found this blog that I started, reset the password because I forgot it, and realized that in 2 years I made no progress toward this goal and have, in fact, moved in the wrong direction. That’s depressing as hell.


Getting Started

In a typically well thought out move I’ve decided that hiking is a great idea. I like to walk, I have hiking boots, it’s fun to be in the woods. And I started reading “Wild” for the second time. Inspiration. The obvious parallels?

She was in her mid 20’s, I’m in my late 40’s

She was single, I’m married

She was childless, I’m child-ful

She was a part-time waitress, I’m employed full time

She had limitless drama in her life, mine is pretty normal.

She was fairly fit, I’m overweight and out of shape.

Yes, this is such an obviously good idea. So yesterday I started looking at the PCT. Too far away. The Appalachian Trail? Maybe; I drove on it 25 years ago and it’s beautiful. The Buckeye Trail? Getting warmer. The Ohio and Erie Canal? Bingo! 81 miles long, close to home, not at all remote. Jubilant, I informed the husband. He stared at me with the standard “she’s crazy but doesn’t seem to be a danger to herself or others” look. Then, voice of logic that he is, he mentioned that I’ve never been alone outdoors. This is a problem. I’m afraid of the dark. More specifically, of the things in the dark. Like bigfoot, zombies, the giant spider from Harry Potter, ghosts, moth-men, smaller spiders. He suggested that I try sleeping in one of our tents in the backyard. (Did I mention that the husband was an avid backpacker in his pre-married/kids days?). The thought of sleeping in a tent in our backyard is causing me unexpected anxiety. Like I said, this was a typically well thought out plan.