Three Months of Two Miles

There is just this one two-mile long trail at the park where I lived this winter.  So I’d walk, run, or rove it at least once, usually twice, and sometimes three times a day during the week.

Did it ever get boring?

Was there ever a day when the sunset was just the same as it always was, pretty-boring-dull-colors-anyway, should-have-just-stayed-in-bed?

Did I ever regret putting on my trail runners and heading out into the cold/ wind/ snow/ stillness after a tiring day?

Do you really need to bother seeing the elk when you can see their scat?

Could I have just waited until the next day to see the newest blossoms opening up?

Did it matter that I finally got to glimpse the gray fox up top, silhouetted against the sunset? (Sorry you can't see him over there-- you just had to be there, I guess.)

Hopefully, you get my point.  Which is: the trail outside your backdoor is equally important as the exotic, once-in-a-lifetime trails farther afield, if not more so.  There is something life-affirming about getting to know the place where you live, wherever it is.  A daily walk brings you in tune with your neighborhood wonders, with the changing seasons, with the changing hours.

The tinajas filled up with water.  And eventually it all evaporated away and nothing was left but cracked dust.

Full moon evening.

That one day they did a controlled burn, and the smokey sunset was all yellow.

During the 15-minutes of the March snowstorm.

Now, granted this is one phenomenal, two mile trail.  No doubt about it.  But still, this was the first time I’ve had such limited options in terms of where I could exercise in the evenings.  No other routes (except the flat road) and no off-trailing allowed.  Yet, the experience of the same trail, day after day, was extremely rewarding.

Don’t put off walking everyday just because you think that next month, or next year, or *someday* you will be somewhere prettier or more worthwhile.  Maybe the backyard ramble will teach you lessons that you thought were only possible on a long-trail.

Here are tips to help you make it a regular practice to explore your close-to-home routes:

   - Make it less “tedious” by changing up your routine- vary your pace, route, and time of day. 

This moment happens so fleetingly.  Can you experience this moment from a different spot on the trail everyday?

   - Bring friends and family. 

Going with Mom made me see how big these dropoffs and steps can seem.

   - Carry a pack, or not.  Load up your pack with 5 lbs, or 40 lbs. 
   - Race to do it in 30 minutes.  See if you can draw it out to 2 hours— no really, try harder to slow the heck down.
  - Change your perspective, change your focus.  Try looking at everything close up, or only in the distance.

Don't forget to look down.

And up.

Don't forget to look back over there too.

   - Pretend you are a geologist, a birder, a botanist, or someone who knows about lichen or grasses.  Notice everything you can about that one aspect of nature.  Make up silly fake-scientific names for all the plants/ geological formations/ birds you don’t know.

Neapolitan ice cream unconformity.

   - Try not bringing your camera on the day of the brightest, electric red sunset.  Force yourself to memorize the colors rather than focus on taking photos.  (Yes, this will make you cry since you won’t be able to post it on instagram— get over it.)

It was sort of like this, only imagine more glitter.

Whatever you do, GET OUT THERE. 

How do you keep your backyard, after-work trails interesting?