Resolve

Resolve (noun): a firm determination to do something; I will.
Synonym: resolution

This month I resolved to achieve 52 hikes in 2023. J then asked a great question: What qualifies as a hike? 2+ miles; outdoors; in nature

So far, you’ve heard about two: Catwalk & Toothpick Trail and Horn Creek Road & Wonder Trail. On Monday, I hiked Lower Table Rock. I set out before noon while the butte was still completely socked in by low clouds. The elevation gain isn’t much (<900′), but it is swift. And not even a third of the way up, I genuinely believed my childhood asthma was intent to vanquish me, right there on the nearly washed-out trail. The remedy, however, was to slow down and to breathe with intention (hello yoga). It wasn’t until the descent that I realised how truly steep the ascent was and that I, not my ‘activity-induced asthma’, was trying to kill myself.

Once I reached the plateau, the clouds were thick like pale grey cotton candy. The saturated earth was a mix of mud and moss and yellow grasses. Soon my beautiful pink waterproof Topo hiking boots were a lovely shade of poo brown. Walking on the bridge over the vernal pools, my soles left smudges like Yeti paw prints.

Back on the natural ground and squelching down the trail, I noticed that the only sounds I was hearing were my own. I stopped on the trail and let the quiet roll over me, penetrate my consciousness, and soothe my anxious psyche. I found a tiny path that led to a misty pond (bog?), followed it, and stood silently basking in its eerie beauty.

Moving on, I felt an easy calm. Being hugged and insulated by the clouds was effortlessly peaceful. That is, until I turned around.

A dark human figure loomed hazy in the mist, roughly 50 yards behind me – in pursuit. Needless to say, my stomach lurched and I hastily got my pepper spray handy – ready for the attack. After many quick glances behind me, I realised it was just another outdoorsperson and their travel-mate enjoying the quiet and seeming solitude. (and as my friend later said, they were probably just as freaked out by me as I was by them…)

When I finally reached the far side of the plateau, pockets of clouds were shifting, beginning to break up and lift. The ghostly mist was incredibly beautiful as it hung over the landscape below. I found myself audibly oohing and ahhing.

I zigged and zagged all across the plateau, finding new sights to make me pause and grab the camera. And similar to the previous hike, I also found myself needing a wee. I was considering finding a bush or tree to squat behind – but – I had a feeling that peeing behind a tree on a now cloudless plateau on a somewhat busy holiday probably wasn’t the best idea. Anyhow, I was basically at the end of my top-of-plateau travels. So I began my move to head back. And moments after resolving to NOT pee in a bush, I was assaulted by a loud buzzing — a buzz that can only mean a drone is both nearby and drawing closer. And then boom – the drone was immediately overhead. But NOT getting up close and personal with a peeing Amy. Instead I smiled at the obnoxiously loud drone, grateful to be holding my pee.

The very last leg of the hike up top took me through an area that reminded me of the home of my youth: El Dorado Hills. Oak trees, yellow fields, large boulders, and little creeks. And owl pellets. Loads upon loads of owl pellets. I haven’t seen so many pellets since elementary school science. Hello 1987 (or something).

And now, today. Today I hiked to the start of Snark Trail and then looped down through Lithia Park (hello public restrooms!). I stopped at Bloomsbury Books (which also happens to have begun life as we know it in 1980) and enjoyed a lovely bowl of Italian soup and a dark and delicious Americano. As I journaled, the snow began to fall. As it fell thicker and began to stick to cars (whizzing by at a whopping 20mph) and the road, I listened to The Scrum Fieldbook and was reminded that is it healthy to slow down. It is wise to reflect. It is important to learn. And a heart can heal when you give it the time and space it requires and feed it the kindness and empathy it deserves.