New to it All

About 6 years ago, I got a wild hair. "Let's go hiking this weekend with the dogs." I told my husband. He begrudgingly agreed and off we went with a canteen (yes, a real live 20 year old canteen) of water, my DSLR, and the dogs (a border collie and a GSD) on leashes to a place in Mississippi called Clark Creek Natural Area. We started out and it was hilly and pretty and we quickly came to a fork in the road. One way was obviously improved trails, wide, gravelled. One way was a narrow little track with a sign post that said "Primitive trail." It warned that the path was incredibly steep and a little dangerous. It included the advice that it would take us 3 to 5 hours to hike the primitive trail and that we would hike about 4 miles.

The husband and I would take the dogs and go on nice little jaunts up and down big hills and teensy mountains in Massachusetts and New Hampshire when we lived there. We could not imagine this trail, in Mississippi being steep or dangerous and 3 hours for 4 miles? What kind of marshmallows were they raising in Mississippi anyway?

4 hours later, we stumbled back to the improved trails with the knowledge that they weren't raising marshmallows in Mississippi. The primitive turned out to be a perfectly beautiful little trail made by sadists who were of the opinion that one should always take the most direct route up any hill and that, when given the choice between going around a hill or going directly up it and then directly down it, the direct route was always better. Further, if the path washed out, well. One could always just slide down the hill or pull oneself up the hill by main force. Also, short cliffs were no reason to divert the trail. One could always just climb up or down it.

At least the dogs thought they had died and gone to Disneyland.

And so began my love affair with Clark Creek. Now I hike the primitive then turn around and hike it backwards (it makes a loop) or go off and do all the improved trails, maybe meander through all the crystal clear creeks. . .

Different note: Around the same time, Fallout New Vegas was released. I am a Fallout junkie. I am one of those people with t-shirts that say "Vault 111" on the back and bobble-heads in blue vault suits on my desk. I loved New Vegas, then they released a DLC for New Vegas set in Zion and I was hooked. I had to go there. Eventually I got there and it was 12 times better than I had ever expected. I also felt like a little hedge witch surrounded by real wizards. I have to fight and MAKE my trails harder, figure out ways to get harder and harder workouts. For the folks in Utah, that's just the only way you can get there from here. There is one, just one trail in my entire state from which you can backpack, and even that it a make-do, not a real outing. Everything else is car camping, even if the campground is primitive.

So that's me in a nutshell. I am in love with the hiking in Utah. I live in Louisiana. Yes, I actually a Southwest Visa card that I got just for the promo miles so I can scheme free trips out to go hiking. Yes, I currently eyeball work trips with how I can squeeze in a hike over a weekend somewhere and not pay (much) for extra airfare.

Worst part of it is, I didn't know how much I loved hiking until I was in my 40's. I missed out on the years when I was young and spry and didn't get injuries.