hiking

A Trip to Remember

Posted on December 1, 2014March 16, 2019 by stilllearning2b

The original forecast wasn’t that bad – one night that would dip into the 20s and daytime highs in the 40s with clear skies and no chance of precipitation. Perfect camping and hiking weather.

But as we know, what we expect isn’t always what life delivers.

In this case, I think the computer that calculated the weather models had been hacked to try to cover up the fact that a mini polar vortex would be descending upon the North Georgia Mountains over Thanksgiving.

Hyperbole?

Possibly. Further study is needed.

Serene. No sign of what's to come. — Serene. No sign of what’s to come.

Our usual pattern with camping is to wake up around sunrise, build a fire to make the all important coffee and then hit the hiking trails around 9 am. We had a feeling Thursday wasn’t going to be usual when we woke up to the sounds of blustery winds and the sharp shrapnel of sleet pelting the skin of the tent. That, plus the fact that the bottle of water inside the text was frozen, were our first signs that the forecast was not going to be our reality.

It's a wonder the roof didn't collapse:) — It’s a wonder the roof didn’t collapse:)

After we unzipped the tent, Tiger ran off into the frozen tundra to do his business and then returned to the shelter of the portico, where even a nest made of blankets could not keep him from shivering. Brock started the fire while I worked to prep breakfast. Our eggs and potatoes were runny that morning, as the sleet added significantly to the water content during cooking. We inhaled them before they could freeze.

His highness's "seat" when the ground is cold. — His highness’s “seat” when the ground is cold.

Still unaware that the computer weather models were farcical, we consulted our apps and learned that the ominous clouds, gusting winds and frozen precipitation would exit stage left around 11. We decided to hole up in the tent until then before embarking on the shorter of our two planned hikes once the weather cleared. We burrowed back in our sleeping bags, tucked Tiger into his nest and turned on the electric heater while we read and played cards to pass the time.

As predicted, the skies cleared and the sleet assault abated. We donned our gear and set off on a four-mile hike through the Chattahoochee National Forest and around the base of Blood Mountain.

This is what it's all about:) — This is what it’s all about:)

I felt like I was in an arena designed for The Hunger Games; as soon as we set foot on the trail, the clouds moved back in and the sleet began again in earnest. Still, it felt wonderful to be outside in the fresh air and to stretch our limbs cramped from our hideout in the tent. Even Tiger stopped shaking as he ran a few paces ahead of us, nose to the ground in search of Sasquatch.

By the time we had climbed up and around and back down, the weather had shifted again. The wind took on a nasty bite and even though it was not even 2 pm, the sky was quickly growing dim. We consulted the weather wizards again – the predicted high of 34 now looked like a Bahama summer. We would soon be looking at 20s. Low 20s.

If it was just us, we would simply add more layers to the outfits (we already looked like the kid from A Christmas Story) and more logs to the fire. But it wasn’t just us and our big-in-surface-area and sparse-in-body-hair pit bull was cold despite his jacket and his sheltered nest. Very cold. And there’s nothing more pitiful than a miserable and shaking 100 pound pit bull.

I thought about trying to build a snowman.

So we made the decision to make dinner early before seeking shelter yet again in the tent. I think the food in the cooler was warmer than the food outside. I’m not sure what the freeze point of an avocado is, but we found it. Once all of our bellies were full of warmish food, we retreated to the big house. Where, apart from a few frantic bladder runs, we spent the next 16 hours.

I just bought this tent (Big Agnes Big House 6) to replace an old one. It was great - highly recommended! — I just bought this tent (Big Agnes Big House 6) to replace an old one. It was great – highly recommended!

It could have been a horrible trip. We saw more of the inside of the tent than we did of the woods. We were cold and shivering much of the time, as the temperature inside the tent fell into the 30s. We were sore, our muscles cramping from holding awkward positions for hours on end. And our dog kept giving us evil looks like a sullen teenager.

But despite all of that, we had a great time. There were no grumbles. No complaints. It was an adventure to be enjoyed and time to be shared.

The only camping trip where we gained ice!

But most of all, it makes it wonderful to come home and makes us so grateful for the little things in life –

The coffee that stays warm for more than 60 seconds.

The toilet seats than don’t feel like they’re performing cryotherapy butt removal.

The toothpaste that isn’t frozen into an unusable brick and requires hot stone massage to even budge.

The bedroom that doesn’t make you dream of the North Pole or deep space with its frigid temperatures.

And the clothes, that once washed of their smoke and soot, can be worn again in single layers like a weight loss before and after advertisement.

Even Tiger looked as though he no longer took his favored sleeping spot for granted as he melted into the pillows with a contented grunt.

When we come home, we are always thankful for what we have.

When we drove home from the mountains yesterday, we passed miles of traffic queued the other direction for a large outlet mall. I just had to shake my head at the thousands of people lining up to buy more.

Because when it comes down to it, happiness is not about having what you want, it’s about wanting what you have.

And sometimes the best gift doesn’t come from the store. It comes in the form of a reminder to be thankful for what you already have around you.

8 Lessons From the Campground

Posted on November 22, 2013 by stilllearning2b

Our annual Thanksgiving camping trip is only days away. The long underwear has been unearthed and the tent located. My weekly shopping list makes it clear that I am preparing for cold weather and hearty appetites. I love our times at the campground – they have been a key part of our relationship from the beginning. Here is a repost of our first Thanksgiving camping trip. If you want the full effect, read in front of a campfire:)

Mere days before Thanksgiving, my partner and I found out we had to move within 30 days because his house had just sold. We had been planning a camping trip over the break and our initial reaction was to cancel the trip, so that we could focus on the move. I am so glad that we decided to continue with the trip. Not only did we have a good time and enjoyed the time together, but it actually made the move less stressful because we had lessons that we took with us from the campground.

1) Teamwork Required

One of the best aspects about camping is that it requires teamwork. Assembling a large tent is a,most an impossibility single-handedly, but becomes a fun challenge when tackled by two. We quickly fell into a rhythm, working together, sharing some tasks and dividing others. He would brave the early morning frost to get the fire started so that we could prepare breakfast. I faced the frigid waters to clean the dishes of their breakfast remnants. The dog, well, he just laid there shivering in a sleeping bag looking pitiful. We functioned as a team.

2) Take Pleasure in the Smallest Things

When camping, you certainly have to do without many of life’s modern conveniences. However, because your expectations are in line with reality, it is not necessary a bad thing to leave that behind. You learn to appreciate the smallest achievements, the tiniest bit of warmth, a few steps on level ground. You don’t know when your next bit of pleasure will arrive, so you celebrate each moment of it that comes your way. And, just so you know, Starbucks VIA works great at a campsite; that first sip of coffee each brisk morning was heaven.

3) Surroundings Don’t Impact You as Much as You Think

I have always been sensitive to my surroundings; I need things “just so” so that I can work or relax. This can be a problem when moving, because some amount of chaos and disorder is inevitable. The campground was organized for functionality. We certainly had beautiful views, but they were not to be had in our immediate surroundings. But it was okay. Happiness is not found in a campground that looks beautiful, but is devoid of soul. I learned to release some of my obsession with my surroundings; they don’t matter as much as I think.

4)Take Breaks

We spent each day on long hikes up nearby mountains. We had our goal of reaching the tops, of course, but we planned each day with plenty of time to get there. As a result, we were able to take breaks whenever and wherever we chose. These are some of my favorite memories of the trip; the times sitting on the side of a mountain, looking out over the vistas, my boys by my side. Immense pleasure can be found in those moments between activity.

5) Share Burdens

Long day hikes require a decent amount of supplies, especially when your partner insists on bringing survival gear:) We shared the load, distributing the weight so that no one person had too much to bear. Even the dog has to carry his part. There is no reason that any burden has to be carried alone; you can even share the load with your dog if need to.

6) Uphills are Balanced by Downs

Some of those hikes felt like they were uphill both ways, but any loop or out-and-back will have a net elevation change of zero. Just like on the trails, we are often more aware of the uphills in life, but remember that they are balanced by the downhills. Make an effort to notice the times the path is easy.

7) Use Your Resources

This is where my partner really shines. When we realized that one of the tent stakes had broken when we were assembling the nylon beast, he grabbed some supplies from his pack and some sticks from the woods and quickly fashioned a replacement within minutes. Before declaring a situation beyond hope, look around you and see what you can utilize to help.

8) It Takes Effort to Gain Perspective

Our campsite was located at the base of Table Rock Mountain, its visage towering over us in all its granite splendor. Our first day was spent preparing the campground, we were in our little insular world. The next afternoon after a long, uphill climb, we reached elevation where we could see our campsite and how it related to the larger landscape. We tend to live life in its details and forget to look at the big picture. It takes effort to gain perspective, but a climb to the top gives valuable information. It’s worth checking out now and then.

We took those lessons with us into the move and we try to carry them with us all of the time.

Recalculating

Posted on January 10, 2013May 20, 2013 by stilllearning2b

Early April of 2010 was a strange time for me. My divorce had been finalized a few weeks before, I had given notice at my current school that I would not be returning the following year, I had just started falling for Brock and I was planning on moving to Seattle in June. I should have been in a panic. The life I was living had an expiration date. I didn’t know how I would make money or where I was going to live come June. I should have been scared of the unknown, especially since I am a planner by nature. Surprisingly, I was only slightly uncomfortable with the amorphous nature of my future. I think I was so relieved to have survived the divorce that I felt like I could accomplish anything.

I had been applying to school jobs online in the Seattle area, but I needed to visit the city in person to complete the background check needed to get my teaching certification in Washington. My friend and coworker, Carissa, was in a similar situation. She was ready to leave Georgia and wanted to move to the NW to go to graduate school. Like me, she had vague plans but nothing solidified. We decided to move against the spring break migratory patterns and visit Seattle that April. We planned on a combination of sightseeing and job hunting/ school searching while we stayed with my dad and his wife.

We rented a car and plugged in my GPS, which I packed since I had only been to Seattle once as adult (I was visiting Seattle the previous summer when I received the text that my husband had left). Now, if you are familiar with Seattle, you know there is an area through downtown where the interstate splits into 17 levels (okay, so maybe it’s more like 3, but it feels like 17). As Carissa and I were traversing that area in order to get from the airport to my dad’s house, the GPS instructed us to take a left turn from the top level where there was no place to turn. We ignored its command since we hadn’t taken out the extra rental insurance. A few moments later, the device announced, in a voice that sounded like a robot raised in Australia, “Recalculating.”

It became a common utterance of the GPS over the next week as we traveled around unknown areas. We laughed every time we heard that word and it became the theme of our week. I’m not sure if it was due to the excessive cloud cover in Seattle in the spring, our wrong turns, or divine providence, but I have never heard my GPS recalculate so much before or since. Carissa and I never became annoyed at the machine, we actually laughed harder each time it needed to recalculate. It wasn’t worth getting upset about. We trusted the GPS to get us there even if it took a different path than expected.

It was fitting, as Carissa and I were both recalculating ourselves during that trip. We went into the week with grand plans of interviews (for both) and university tours (for her). The reality? We went whale watching, took the underground tour, did the wineries, saw Vagina Monologues, listened to live music, visited the Pike St. market and hiked the foothills of the Cascades (every trip peppered with “recalculating”. We only made one future-related stop and that was to submit the fingerprints and other information for the background check in order to teach in Washington. Now, Carissa really wanted to take a break from teaching and become a full-time student. She was only applying as a back-up. Me? I had no desire to go back to school; I was applying to be able to bring in a paycheck.

Except I made the decision at the last minute not to complete the process.

My entire life, I have played it safe. I have always been conservative with career choices and money. I only took very calculated risks and generally only when I was okay regardless of the outcome. I’ve never been impulsive. I’m not one to fly by the seat of my pants. I am a planner to the nth degree. I find comfort and security in lists and spreadsheets.

But that week, I recalculated. I made the decision to put aside the plans (and, yes, spreadsheets) of the previous 8 months. I decided to shelve my preparations for a move to Seattle. I still don’t really know why I did it and I still can’t believe that I did. I chose to follow my instinct that spring rather than approach the situation more rationally. So, after traveling 3000 miles from Atlanta to look for employment in the NW, I started looking for Georgia jobs while seated on my father’s couch. Nuts? Absolutely. But, strangely, I felt calm about the decision.

Within a few weeks, I had a job in Atlanta lined up for the fall and I located an apartment. It’s a decision that I’ve never regretted but I still can’t fully understand. Yes, I had started seeing Brock, but that relationship was very young and we had no idea that it was going to persist. Honestly, at that time, I would have said that my need to escape from the memories of Atlanta was stronger than my feelings for Brock. So, why did I stay? What was it in that moment that allowed me to trust the GPS of my gut rather than the itinerary mapped out in my brain? I don’t know but I’m glad I listened.

It’s easy for us to try to fully plan our route through life. But sometimes, our vision becomes clouded or we make a wrong turn or divine providence intervenes and we have to recalculate. Sometimes we get upset when that happens. We want to get back on the planned route and continue the planned journey. We might get irritated at having our preparations interrupted.Yet, we never really know where a path will lead. Every journey has an element of faith. Sometimes we simply have to trust that a decision is the right one for us in the moment.

As a planner, I struggle with staying calm when things unexpectedly change. But now, when they do, I think back to that spring, Carissa and I laughing in the car, and my instinct leading me the right way. There’s nothing wrong with recalculating. Even if you traveled a long way to do it.

Now, if I could only go whale watching in Atlanta:)

My Favorite Gifts

Posted on December 15, 2012March 6, 2024 by stilllearning2b

Christmas is a season with conflicted values – spiritual butting up against the material. Many of us (and I’m including myself) struggle with trying to find the balance between the commercial and the intent. Perhaps we can find a place where both can reside.

I looked back at my favorite gifts that I have received over the past few years. Some have monetary value. Some do not. All have meaning and have enriched my life well beyond the space under the tree.

Gift: Kitchen Floor

Giver: Sarah

Significance: When I was hit with the tsunami divorce, my friend Sarah immediately offered me safe harbor in her home for a year. I gratefully accepted, renting the guest bedroom and a corner of the bonus room. Her home, with her husband and new baby, was a very special place. It was filled with the sounds of life and it was a space where I felt safe and protected. During that year, we spent untold hours in the kitchen, me on the floor (often with the baby) while Sarah was cooking (an art I had not yet mastered). Those kitchen sessions were filled with conversations about everything and nothing. We laughed and cried, often at the same time. That floor was the gift of listening.

photo-160

Gift: Running clothes

Giver: My ex (before he was the ex)

Significance: I didn’t start running until I turned 30. It quickly became a passion of mine and my mileage began to creep up. At that time, I had been used to working out in our home gym. I didn’t own much in the way of exercise clothing, yet I was too cheap to invest in any, especially items that could handle the Georgia heat. My ex surprised me with three pairs of Underarmor running shorts and a few tech fabric shirts. Those items allowed me to run more comfortably and on a more frequent basis. I still wear them all the time. Those clothes are the gift that remind me that, at one time, my ex cared.

photo-161

Gift: Bamboo cutting board

Giver: Carissa, a friend

Significance: This was given to me at the time I was moving from Sarah’s house into my own apartment. In my previous life, I never did much cooking. It seemed like a waste of time to me. Carissa and Sarah both showed me the healing power of food and the pleasure that can be found through preparing a nourishing meal for myself and others. I am still no hostess, but I now prepare meals on a frequent basis and share my food and knowledge with others. This was a gift of nourishment.

photo-155

Gift: Action Potential Wellness sign

Giver: my dad

Significance: Change spurs more change. After I survived the tsunami, I decided I wanted to move into wellness coaching. I spent a year doing the certifications and other preparation. Finally, it was time to decide on a name and a logo. I emailed the JPEG to my dad and, much to surprise and delight, he had it made into a fabric banner. This sign has practical uses but, more than anything, it was a message that my dad believed in me.

photo-159

Gift: handwritten cards

Giver: students (current and former)

Significance: I was a horrible math student (although I excelled at school overall and I had terrible experiences with math teachers. I was drawn to math education so that I could help students like me – bright, but had trouble communicating with algebra. Every year of the 11 I’ve taught, I receive Christmas cards (sometimes hastily written on torn out notebook paper) from my students. Many express how they finally like math. How they understand more than ever before. And how they have confidence in themselves to push past difficulties. Every year I cry. Those cards are the gift that tells me I matter.

photo-156

Gift: iPod

Giver: Kay, a family friend

Significance: Kay is sort of like an aunt to me. She is friends with my mom and used to join us for holidays and outings. She was my designated “watcher” when I was in high school and my mom was out of town. She has been in my life since childhood and has had a significant impact on me. After the divorce, I received an iPod from Kay along with a Nike iFit sensor. She had “go Lisa go. here’s to new beginnings” engraved on the back. That iPod has been my constant companion and has traveled with me as I’ve run countless miles. It was a gift of moving forward.

photo-157

Gift: GPS

Giver: Kay again:)

Significance: Kay was upgrading her GPS and passed the previous one down to me. Before the divorce, I would borrow my husband’s when I needed one (For those of you unfamiliar with Atlanta roads, a GPS is very useful here. Traffic is terrible, everything is named Peachtree, and the city is so spread out that it is impossible to be familiar with it all.) The GPS gave me the freedom to travel to new areas to meet friends or dates (!) without fear of getting lost or getting into a wreck while trying to read a map. It was a gift of freedom.

Gift: Patios

Giver: my mom

Significance: I traveled to San Antonio to visit my mom during the second spring break after the divorce. We both craved some mother-daughter time that was not centered around lawyers and tears. We embarked upon a week-long patio tour of San Antonio, eating and drinking our way across the outdoor eateries of the city. We talked, we giggled, we enjoyed the creative concoctions of Texas mix masters. We joked about creating an app that ranked patios based upon ambiance, menu, and libations. We still haven’t gotten around to it. I think we need to test more first… 🙂 Those patios were a gift of family.

photo-154

Gift: Jeans

Giver: Christian, a friend

Significance: Okay, first, these are not just any jeans. These are two pairs of tight, ripped, sexy jeans. After the divorce, I felt anything but sexy. My weight had dropped to dangerous levels and I barely registered that I had a body at all. Christian and I met in a Starbucks the morning after my first ever race. We hit it off and spent the next 12 hours together. A couple of weeks later, he surprised me with the jeans. They fit. Oh, did they fit. I felt like a woman again for the first time in months. It was a gift of sexy and inner confidence.

Image representing MacBook Air as depicted in ...

Gift: computer

Giver: me

Significance: Until a year ago, I had been using a hand-me-down computer from my ex. It was littered with his programs, much of which was protected by passwords I did not know or needed dongles I did not have. I hated seeing his name appear on registrations and stumbling across old pictures and audio files. I put up with it because I did not have the money for a new machine. Things became critical last year when I was unable to update any of the programs or the operating system any longer due to the machine’s advanced age (2005, I think). I used some of the money refunded to me by the IRS for innocent spouse relief to purchase an 11″ Macbook Air. I love this thing. It is small enough to fit in my purse so that I can work in the park or in a coffee shop, yet it is fully functional. This machine has made my writing of the past year possible. It was a gift of voice.

pictureframe

Gift: Hand carved picture frame

Giver: Brock

Significance: Brock and I stayed in a cabin in the North Georgia mountains during our first Thanksgiving together (this was the inspiration for our camping tradition). That fall was when we really were becoming a couple. We were beginning to open up more and we were beginning to believe in a future together. In fact, that trip is when we became a team. Brock was on a mission that trip to find and cut a perfect walking stick. During our day long hikes, he was constantly stopping to slash down dead tree limbs to test them for viability. I think he went through a dozen sticks before he found the one. That Christmas, I opened a box that contained a picture of us on that trip surrounded by a frame made out of that walking stick. In it, he had carved “11/24/10 Ellijay,GA.” It was a gift of love and hope for the future.

Lessons From the Canyon

Posted on November 24, 2012May 20, 2013 by stilllearning2b

We just returned from our annual Thanksgiving camping trip.The car is unpacked, the boots are off, and the washing machine is steadily rinsing away any traces of campfire smoke. The trip may be over, but there are lessons and memories still to savor.

photo-131 — Apparently the picnic table is more comfortable than the cold, hard ground!

photo-130 — We looked for a gator but never found one even though the tracks were everywhere!

I was booking the reservations this year just as we faced our first real cold snap, thus I chose to find a campground near the Georgia-Alabama border not too far from Florida instead of our usual Smokey Mountain haunts. This was the first time I’ve ever been camping where the signs cautioned us to be aware of alligators rather than bears!

We stayed at Florence Marina State Park but our primary destination was Providence Canyon, a state park that is affectionately know as “The Little Grand Canyon.”

I had an interview with Sean Moffett on Wednesday afternoon, so we didn’t get into the campground until right before dusk.We had about 30 minutes to set up camp and get a fire going for dinner, all while my stomach was making it very clear that I missed lunch. Luckily, we’ve been camping together several times before so we pretty much have camp set-up down to a science.

Lesson 1: The more you do something, the easier it becomes.

photo-129 — The lake/river/reservoir (I swear, every sign called it something different!) at Florence Marina State Park

After dinner, we spent some time sitting in front of the fire. I could tell I was wound up. I was impatient and kind of snappy. I wrote recently about being overwhelmed, and I was letting that get to me again. It’s been a busy fall with trips and events (for example, we just flew back in from Baltimore late Monday night and I had to be ready for camping by Wednesday morning). On top of those logistical challenges, I’m also having to adjust to some of the (very cool and completely surreal) opportunities that have been coming my way since I published the book. As a result of all of this, I’ve had a more difficult time than usual managing anxiety the last couple months.

Lesson 2: Just removing yourself from the situation does not remove yourself from the mindset.

So, there I was, fed and warm sitting next to a campfire with my boys and I was still stressed and irritable. Brock and I talked through things and he came up with three action points to help going forward when I am in similar situations: 1) Learn to say “no,” 2) Learn to delegate, and 3) use a key word to let him know when I’m close to meltdown. I thought this last idea was genius as I’ve tried to communicate to him when I’m feeling close to the breaking point, but he often doesn’t comprehend the magnitude at the time.

Eventually, we made our way to the tent and promptly fell asleep. At some point during the night, I awoke to the sound of footsteps on the fallen leaves just outside the tent. As I woke Brock, I recognized a familiar snuffling sound right by my head. I looked down to Tiger’s bed in the corner of the tent and realized it was empty. Our dog had pushed open the zippered door with his nose, exited the tent, and could not figure out how to return.

Lesson 3: You can prepare but you cannot control.

Brock and I have worked with Tiger extensively to the point where he is frequently off leash. This training meant that when he did get out, he stayed close and came right back.

photo-128 — That’s my vest on the left and Tiger’s on the right. Can you tell who has a bigger torso? 🙂

After breakfast the following morning, we headed just a few miles down the road to Providence Canyon. The canyon is not a natural formation, rather it was formed due to poor farming practices in the early to mid 19th century.

Lesson 4: Big things can have small beginnings.

The land originally consisted of gently rolling wooded hills. The early cotton farmers cleared the land of all existing vegetation and dug shallow furrows into the soil every planting season. Erosion took care of the rest. Now, almost 200 years later, the canyons are 150 feet deep and and growing wider by 3-5 feet each year.

photo-145 — I wonder what the farmers would make of this?!?

It’s wild to realize that the road leading to the park as well as the park buildings will be swallowed up by the canyon within my lifetime.

Lesson 5: Always be ready to adjust.

photo-133 — The continually retreating fence line.

We made our way down into the canyon floor. Up close, it was apparent that the canyon walls are more sand dune than stone.

Lesson 6: Impressive exteriors can conceal weak interiors.

There are signs everywhere warning hikers not to climb the canyon walls. I only slightly broke the rules:)

photo-140 — I even made it back down the hill!

Once the scale of the erosion became clear, people tried to slow the effects.

photo-144 — Kudzu was planted in the mid 20th century to try to anchor the soil.

Lesson 7: There is a tipping point where momentum becomes inevitability.

photo-138 — A more recent attempt to slow the collapse of the canyon walls. You can see that erosion is winning the battle.

Although the walls of the canyons are washing away, the depth remains fairly constant because it consists of a denser and harder stone than the chalk-like walls.

Lesson 8: Sometimes the surface needs to be washed away to reveal what is underneath.

Providence Canyon is in many ways a man-made geological catastrophe. However, rather than simply hide it away, the state has chosen to turn it into a park that celebrates its beauty and also educates the public about its root causes.

Lesson 9: Don’t be afraid to celebrate the beauty that comes from devastation while learning how to avoid it in the future.