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Light Notes: Hike up a mountain? Let's turn on the National Geographic channel please

Lucy Luginbill, Tri-City Herald on

Published in Religious News

It's autumn and I love the idea of being an outdoors-type gal as the temperatures cool.

The thought of the wind whistling through my hair as I effortlessly bicycle at amazing speeds along a golden tree-lined path. Or the concept of bass rising from the depths of a lake to peer wonderingly at my swift canoe. Or the mental picture of a scenic hike where I stride rapidly past brown-eyed fawns at every bend of the mountain trail, fallen leaves parting in my wake.

When my mind ponders the adventures that await, it almost makes my heart sing with anticipation. And one of these days when National Geographic runs out of new programs, I'll rise from the recliner and give it another try.

A few years back, my husband, Bill, who actually likes to go outside, had the idea that it'd be cool if I'd give this nature thing a try.

Once the shock wore off, the thought of perusing Eddie Bauer and L.L. Bean catalogs for outdoorsy wear did seem exciting. And to add to the fun of a mountain hike, we invited other armchair enthusiasts along too. When we mentioned it, they "ooh'd" and "ah'd" enthusiastically, mainly because they hadn't been on a hike lately either.

Anyway, the whole gang plotted and planned until we came up with a trail at least a mile or two from Starbucks, a definite red flag that we were headed into the wilderness. And because we'd watched enough TV to know we'd need to "carb up" we mapped our trip close to buttermilk pancakes and extra syrup.

 

It was only when we finally lumbered to our destination at the "crack of noon" that we discovered the trail went straight up. No switchbacks, just an old-fashioned uphill climb OK for a lively 10-year-old but an extreme sport for creaky knees and rusty discs. Still we persevered.

As my hair wilted and new boots groaned, I knew something had to give ... besides my back. The first thing out of my cute and very heavy day pack was a gigantic bag of trail mix dotted with M&M's. Trained since childhood to "waste not, want not," I voluntarily ate the candy and heroically gave Bill the granola.

As we huffed and puffed our way up the vertical path, I was tempted to pour out my cache of water. But if there was one thing I'd learned from summer reruns, it was the thirst-quenching sips that would get me to the top. Sure enough, out of breath, but hydrated and refreshed I could finally appreciate the mountaintop view.

I'll have to admit that it's a whole lot easier thinking about being an outdoors-type gal than actually doing what it takes to be one.

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