Happy Trails

For the past 18 months, my husband and I have been hiking through parks, waterfronts or botannical gardens.  We even "hiked" our way across the Adirondacks on vacation and most recently through the Finger Lakes on a waterfall journey. 

Screeeeeeeeech.  Back up.

Okay, when I say "hike" I mean what we call "hiking." I don't mean backpacking our way across regions. My definition of a "hike" is basically a long walk.  In fact, I would go so far as to define those "hikes" as "unprepared long walks" meaning it was stupid that we didn't bring water. While there was one or two other long walks when I wish we'd brought the backpacks filled with water bottles, we have so far managed without them and all but one "hike" never warranted any luggage.  Although we have backpacks filled with everything one could possibly need hiking, we've taken the bags with us (on our actual backs) only one time (rather than driving around with them in the car) and that was for a 3 hour trek around Port Au Roche State Park on Lake Champlain near Plattsburgh, NY.  The longest venture we've experienced was probably a five mile round trip.  And at that, it wasn't straight five miles, it was a couple of 1-3 mile "treks" of more than one venue in one day.  The kind where you drive one place, trek about some site, get back in the car and go to another (which means drinking the water in the car between "stops").  Now that I cleared that up, when I claim we "hiked", you'll have a better idea of who and what we are.  We're not rock climbers and we don't pitch tents.

As is probably obvious by now, most of our treks have been on the easy to moderate scale, although admittedly, some of those "moderate" levels have been more physically challenging than led to believe, especially when they involved going up a mountain.  Some of the trails include steep climbs and even going down a mountain can be a harrowing experience, especially when stepping over rocks or tree roots.  You really have to be careful, spending a lot of time looking down so you don't break an ankle or fall.  We're often commenting about how we hope we can get cell service in the event one of us is injured so the other doesn't have to leave to get help.  Especially if it were my husband, he'd never find me and I'm not so sure he'd find his way back to the car.  And neither of us is going to carry the other one anywhere.

 

We also have walking sticks, but pretty much I drive around with mine which I only used once (on that same Lake Champlain "hike") and the other one that I bought for my husband sits in my closet because he refuses to use it.  In fact, my walking stick is located near the binoculars we always leave in the car, somewhere behind the cooler we usually have stuffed with food and cold drink "for when we get back."  Our collection of equipment has also grown to include two folding camp chairs.  Those we've brought along to the beach at least to watch sunrises.  Otherwise, they, too, have been useless dollars spent.

We once went on a "hike" through Island Beach State Park, a natural barrier island along the Jersey Shore, bringing with us chairs, cameras, and bug repellents (after having also sprayed ourselves with two different brands already) to enjoy the bayside views and bird blind along Barnegat Bay, NJ, but we were attacked by a swarm of mosquitoes so thick in numbers that we were breathing them into our nostrils and mouthes when we tried to speak.  Unable to fend off the invaders, we ended up running out of the trail about a quarter of the mile we'd walked into it.  I swore my encephalitis-infected brain was going to swell from the many bites I received, but it was actually a sprained ankle I suffered.  So much for the Deet products.  It was like jumping out of an airplane with a hole in my parachute.  We worried about running into bears in our treks through the Ramapo and Adirondak mountains, but it was the mosquitoes less than ten miles from home that nearly finished us off.

We haven't gotten lost yet, per se, but we've gotten "confused" and while we've always found our way back to the car, sometimes those journeys back to the car have been via "alternative" routes.  This is often compounded by the fact that my husband has absolutely no sense of direction (or a great memory) and I give up arguing with him when we end up on such routes.  His sense of direction when driving is no better, really.  (Did I mention that he's a professional tractor trailer driver?  It's true, and when he can't find his way, he always insists we're "just going around in circles.").  It's usually me who pulls us out of such situations. Then again, I'm the one packing the car, packing the backpacks, and reading the maps that I brought.  That doesn't matter, though.  According to my husband, those maps are always wrong or outdated and don't include the trail we're on.  I bought a compass once as back up.  The only time he used it (before losing it) was driving around a near empty parking lot trying to locate where the shade would be a few hours later (I swear to God he actually did that, I wanted to murder him).  In any event, someone is getting a GPS for Christmas.

Despite all of those things, we do enjoy these trips.  We've seen beautiful landscapes and views, or other moments in nature, capturing many of them on film, and have enjoyed long talks, lighthearted chatter and even battled the elements together.  We've encouraged each other to venture on, coached the other in maneuvering around difficult terrain, respected each other's limits and we've created some great memories together, most of them on a positive scale.  With two cameras, we've captured hundreds of pictures while we experiment with the technology and challenge any artistic talents we may have.  Its a time when we leave our problems behind us, turn off our cellphones, and just reconnect as the couple we used to be early in our relationship, the couple we are now and the couple we see ourselves as in the future.  It's part of the little world we've created for ourselves that we enjoy outside the hustle and bustle of every day life.  Of course, that's not to say my husband would not be equally satisfied laying in bed after sex with his DVR remote catching up on all the shows he may have missed during the week, but he's a guy after all.

Often times, on these hikes, I think of how I wish I were younger and more adventurous, "Wow, if I only had the balls to hang glide here or kayak over those rapids."  I contemplated a hot air balloon ride over an incredible landscape at Letchworth State Park in Castile, New York (nicknamed "the Grand Canyon of the East"), but all I could think of is what happens if you suddenly go into a panic and want out of the basket immediately? What about vomiting? I'd be terrified I'd barf in the basket, but I'm sure as hell not leaning over the basket to puke into the sky.  Oh, talk about vertigo!  So, whaddaya do?  Cower down into fetal position, rocking and sucking your thumb?  How embarrassing.

I can't swim.  It's a long sordid story stemming from a near drowning incident as a child, but I wish I could.  I wish I had taken the time to learn as a young adult, but its not going to happen at this point and the fear of it all is too paralzying. I have too many phobias of the water.  As much as I wish I could go white water rafting or go out in a kayak on some lake, it's just not going to happen.  To compound matters, I can't do cold water.  So, if I were to swim, I'd only be able to do so in water of certain temperature.  I am horribly afraid of the ocean (and I grew up at the Shore), and not really interested in fish swimming near me, so I can only do the low end of a swimming pool.  Most people don't kayak in pools.  But, I've spent many long, pensive moments sitting on boulders along a riverbed or lakefront thinking about how nice it would be to know how to swim and venture out.  I wish I had done such things when I was younger and more impetuous. 

Similarly, on a recent trip, my husband said how he wished he were younger and could rock climb.  I agreed that would be an incredible experience.  Of course, the fact we both have a fear of heights would indeed make such an experience eventful.

Most of our hikes lead us to a scenic vista, perhaps a beach, a bay, a river, a waterfall, a wetland.  I plan it that way so that there is something rewarding in it for me, so I feel as though I did something to get to the gold ring. I'm not much for just any old trail, it has to lead to something.  I'm not very athletic, so getting off my ass to do anything physical has to have a reward.  Walking from my car to the sandy beach to see the ocean I've seen hundreds of times is boring to me, unless there's a sunrise or sunset.  I'm not into the noisy, crowded beach scene.  Going down a trail, perhaps seeing wildlife, listening to the sounds of nature, before coming upon a lakeview or a fabulous gorge or a mountain view is like hitting a jackpot as I snap away with my camera.  In addition, the solitude but for my husband's company is everything as rarely we come across others on a hike, although when we do it is brief.  As we trek our way through a trail, commenting on the animals, birds or foliage we may encounter along the way, there is something special about that "wow" moment when we emerge from a trail together to find a fabulous overlook.  We feel like Lewis and Clark and its even more enjoyable when there is no one else around.  You can't get that at a crowded beach.  We enjoy that quietude together, it's a time for us.