The temps shot from hot to hotter yesterday. Three digits by 11 a.m.
I was peacefully splayed out on the bed under the ceiling fan contemplating a dive into the pool.
My husband, bless his heart, comes in to suggest a drive to get out of the house.
OUT OF THE HOUSE! Is he crazy? It is 76 inside these walls and a hellish 106 outside. I wouldn't even consider jogging out to the car to retrieve the who-done-it book I have invested hours in and the murderer is just about to be outed!
Being the cooperative wife that I am (and after a short burst from the uncooperative wife side of me) I agreed to take a ride. A RIDE! Anyone see the words hike in the short phrase 'a ride'?
We drove out to Whiskeytown Lake to check out the Dry Creek Group Campground for a future family camp trip.
Every parking lot, every little turn out on the side of the roads, every spot of beach or rocks close to shore were taken up with cars, people, floaties of all types and coolers. And the cars were lining up behind us.
We hadn't read the newspaper yet, leaving it in it's little blue plastic wrap on the bed. I imagined the headlines must have read "MANDATORY EVACUATION OF REDDING," Sub headline reveals that Whiskeytown Lake to be temporary evacuation site!
We drove around the lake, past all the inviting blue water filled with swimmers, splashers. sail boats and kayaks. Did we stop to dive in? No, we kept driving.
At the Dry Creek Group Campground entrance is a long locked metal gate! Past the gate is a nice, dry, sunny trail...all down hill! Doesn't 'down hill' mean there will be 'up hill' involved if we listen to the psycho-babble of my bat-shit crazy husband that we should venture out of the comfort of the car's AC to hike down to the campgrounds?
Again, cooperative wife smiles and agrees how much fun it would be to walk the dusty hot trail. (I am definitely having a talk with that part of me today!)
I open the car door. Who left the oven on? Fry eggs on the side walk? Hell, we could make a pizza on any rock of our choice!
So we walk, Sun, dust, heat....it was a very nice hike. We walked hand-in-hand down the trail accompanied by the song of a bird who, apparently, loves the heat. We saw both campgrounds and the big sign half a mile down the road that warns (in red capitol letters) REGISTERED CAMPERS ONLY.
We hike down....nice. We hike back up....nice. I never even had to pause to rest my new-ish knee or my old-ish body! My hubby mentions several times that he is concerned for me.
"Want to sit on a rock or rest?"
Nope, I just keep walking, though I do stick to the left side of the road which occasionally offers a little shade; about as often as Leap Years offers a February 29th!
We get to car, which is now hotter than the outside air. My husband is blown away by how quickly we made it up the trail. He suggests we take our pulses....ever the fan of competition!
His pulse: 96
My pulse: 81
I win!!!!!!
p.s. "Now get me back to my house and my pool!"
I was peacefully splayed out on the bed under the ceiling fan contemplating a dive into the pool.
My husband, bless his heart, comes in to suggest a drive to get out of the house.
OUT OF THE HOUSE! Is he crazy? It is 76 inside these walls and a hellish 106 outside. I wouldn't even consider jogging out to the car to retrieve the who-done-it book I have invested hours in and the murderer is just about to be outed!
Being the cooperative wife that I am (and after a short burst from the uncooperative wife side of me) I agreed to take a ride. A RIDE! Anyone see the words hike in the short phrase 'a ride'?
We drove out to Whiskeytown Lake to check out the Dry Creek Group Campground for a future family camp trip.
Every parking lot, every little turn out on the side of the roads, every spot of beach or rocks close to shore were taken up with cars, people, floaties of all types and coolers. And the cars were lining up behind us.
We hadn't read the newspaper yet, leaving it in it's little blue plastic wrap on the bed. I imagined the headlines must have read "MANDATORY EVACUATION OF REDDING," Sub headline reveals that Whiskeytown Lake to be temporary evacuation site!
We drove around the lake, past all the inviting blue water filled with swimmers, splashers. sail boats and kayaks. Did we stop to dive in? No, we kept driving.
At the Dry Creek Group Campground entrance is a long locked metal gate! Past the gate is a nice, dry, sunny trail...all down hill! Doesn't 'down hill' mean there will be 'up hill' involved if we listen to the psycho-babble of my bat-shit crazy husband that we should venture out of the comfort of the car's AC to hike down to the campgrounds?
Again, cooperative wife smiles and agrees how much fun it would be to walk the dusty hot trail. (I am definitely having a talk with that part of me today!)
I open the car door. Who left the oven on? Fry eggs on the side walk? Hell, we could make a pizza on any rock of our choice!
So we walk, Sun, dust, heat....it was a very nice hike. We walked hand-in-hand down the trail accompanied by the song of a bird who, apparently, loves the heat. We saw both campgrounds and the big sign half a mile down the road that warns (in red capitol letters) REGISTERED CAMPERS ONLY.
We hike down....nice. We hike back up....nice. I never even had to pause to rest my new-ish knee or my old-ish body! My hubby mentions several times that he is concerned for me.
"Want to sit on a rock or rest?"
Nope, I just keep walking, though I do stick to the left side of the road which occasionally offers a little shade; about as often as Leap Years offers a February 29th!
We get to car, which is now hotter than the outside air. My husband is blown away by how quickly we made it up the trail. He suggests we take our pulses....ever the fan of competition!
His pulse: 96
My pulse: 81
I win!!!!!!
p.s. "Now get me back to my house and my pool!"
on my behalf...it WAS her idea! to go for the hike and I carried the camera bag uphill both ways !
ReplyDeleteSo, if I can cut through literary obfuscation, you're saying this was a wonderful day for a little stroll?
ReplyDelete