Not Hiking

The local Cornell Club had an outing on Saturday.  Eighteen intrepid souls met early n the morning for conversation at the Visitor Center at Sabino Canyon Recreation Area.

That sounds like a venue for ball fields and playground equipment.  It's not.  It's part of the Coronado National Forest; the activities are in those you can do in the great outdoors.  And this is The Great Outdoors.  The mountains loom overhead. The boulders and the cacti and the trees and the water are all the enticements you need.  

There are two options - hiking or riding.  

There's a shuttle to the top of the developed area.  For $12 you get your own brand new earbuds - just like the ones you buy at CVS when  you're on the way to the gym and realize you've left yours at home - and a seat on the open-air tram car.  The narration is in English and Spanish; it hits the right note between nerd and knowledge.  

FDR is responsible for a lot of the comforts along the main road - restrooms and picnic tables and benches and beaches and bridges were all created by the Civilian Conservation Corps and the Works Progress Administration in the aftermath of the Depression.  The narrator pointed them out, along with the black gneiss and the tumbled boulders and the remains of the last wildfire.  

The shuttle allows riders to get off and re-board at any of the 9 stops along the way.  I rode it all the way up and all the way down, watching sorrowfully as we passed members of our Club hiking up, and then more sorrowfully as many of those who'd ridden to the top opted to hike their way down.

I was wearing my hiking boots - that was as close to meandering on my own two feet as I got.  I sat with Taos Bubbe, which made all the difference to my heart, but my head was busy contemplating how to gear up for being more of an active participant next year.

I loved hiking.  I loved the scenery and the smells and the tiredness in my feet and legs at the end of a long day.  I liked the silence.  I enjoyed the company of like-minded friends.  I was happy using my muscles for fun, rather than for exercise.  

Watching others do what I can't wasn't easy.  It was motivating, though. Now that the weather has cooled down to the mid-80's, perhaps I can start to walk the neighborhood again.  If only JannyLou weren't moving I'd get her to commit to walking with me - I do better with a companion and a commitment.  But it is what it is and she's leaving, so I'll have to be my own source of inspiration.

Writing it down is the first step.  Thanks for reading - you're now part of the plan.