The Start of Another Journey

Blogging! This just what I need at this point in time -- another potentially addictive activity when, 3 feet away from me, in a file drawer under the right wing of the desk, my 2006 income tax info awaits, and the TurboTax Deluxe 2006 folder is peeking out from underneath this window at the bottom of the display. But there is still time for that, right? No, this is more important. I feel the need to reach out, to connect with someone out there to share this new obsession that I tell myself is good for me. I mean it is healthy, satisfying, interesting, enlightening, challenging, doesn't hurt others, and seems to keep things from becoming too complicated. Surely others will enjoy it as well.

You see, I am trying to adopt hiking as my dominant physical activity. Right now my physical exertion is centered on playing golf. No, not the fat-cat-in-the-cart version, but the walk and carry your own bag variety. I play 4 to 5 days a week, 18 holes, starting early in the morning and finishing by 11. So that is sort of hiking, 5 miles a day, but hardly a taxing workout. Golf is a strangely addictive game, and I am playing it well enough, I guess, but I am not disciplined enough to really work hard at getting a whole lot better at it, and no one ever really gets to the point where they are satisfied with their game, anyway. But I have always liked doing physical activities, mostly outdoor ones, and have even achieved a reasonable level of competence at a couple things, notably skiing, competitively racing Hobie Cats, even orienteering. But something has kept me from really embracing hiking. I like to do it, but the multi-day backpacking step has been a big one.

I live in the heart of Silicon Valley. The golf course is in sight of the intergalactic headquarters of the Internet, the ever burgeoning GooglePlex. Our weather is about the best on earth, and the local topography is just severe enough that the real estate developers have been unable to build on all those local hills (some would call them mountains), so local hiking is available. And I have found over the years that the best way to get away from the masses is to take a walk, preferably up a relatively steep hill. 100 vertical feet is a real deterrent to those masses at the Mall. I could realistically set out from my driveway loaded with a backpack, and while the first 4 or 5 miles would be rather alienating, fighting the commuters in their BMWs or SUVs, I could spend the next week in the Santa Cruz mountains, following creeks, passing through redwood groves, climbing ridges, drop down to the Pacific ocean, and, chances are, come down with a nasty case of poison oak. But I haven't done it yet. I need a push. It is just a little too much work. Too much to carry. No computer to spend time in front of when it gets dark.

But early in 2005 my wife Ruth and I tried to break the logjam. We tried to sign up for a Sierra Club trip, a week long backpack trip that looked ideal, down the Paria River Canyon on the Utah/Arizona border. Well, it wasn't early enough in 2005. That trip sells out fast. So it took another year, but in 2006 we pounced, and we got it. Come back again for that story.