My wife and I are proof that opposites attract and can even be happily married forever (twenty-nine years and counting!). Our differences provide some independence, which we count as a strength; however, we battle against being too independent, so we periodically have ideas as to how we might do something together—not something mine or hers, but ours. The latest idea is hiking.
Oh, we have hiked off and on over the years in various parts of these United States, but intentional, regular hiking is a new adventure for us. We plan to target some spectacular part of Southern California once a month, and today was our first.
There’s a joke about camping as rich people pretending to be homeless, which I considered last night as I removed tags from the new hiking apparel we purchased at the super-hip store for outdoors enthusiasts, REI, which I also learned does not technically stand for Really Expensive Items (Recreational Equipment, Incorporated, but who knew?). This morning I slipped on my new forest-green REI hiking pants and my new black Salomon Speedcross 6 trail shoes and off we went to the Santa Ynez Mountains of Santa Barbara.
Because we are just getting started and not in great shape, we chose a “moderate” hike, and I’m sure that in some level of hell the four miles and 800-feet of elevation we encountered could be described as moderate, so I won’t quibble. But we struggled. When it comes to sure-footedness, I, for one, have the clumsy coordination of a baby giraffe. We were passed twice by the same young trail runner going up and down the trail we hoped to conquer once and felt a little intimidated by the parents carrying small children on their backs as well as the two guys carrying their mountain bikes up a switchback. We climbed, slowly, toward our destination, Inspiration Point, and I did discover inspiration on the journey: I felt a strong inspiration to curse. I felt inspired to consider a different activity to do together. I often felt inspired to stop.
But my goodness it turned out to be incredible. Somewhere between a heavy mist and a light rain accompanied us as we hiked our way up into the puffy, saturated clouds, and we reveled in the mesmerizing sound of nature, which included the breathtaking sound of silence. Slowly, deliberately, we climbed, and when we finally reached Inspiration Point, we discovered that we had it all to ourselves, which felt appropriate, since our initial inspiration was to do it for ourselves anyway.
I am embarrassed to say that I rarely touch the actual planet that we live on. My feet touch pavement and concrete, carpet and hardwood flooring, tile and vinyl, laminate and linoleum, but how often do I come into contact with Mother Earth? Not often enough. Not. Often. Enough.
But the best part of a remarkable day? Holding hands when the trail was wide enough. Simple conversations. Making each other laugh. Cheering each other on. Sharing spectacular scenes together. Feeling less alone in this world. Feeling more connected to each other, not to mention the universe.
We’ll be doing this again. And again, and again.
Don’t be offended, but if you asked us for a little marital advice, we’d tell you to take a hike.
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