You don't scare me anymore, Badger Mtn!

Well, you’re looking at a winner right here. Yes sirreee! I made it to the top of Badger Mountain today!

I was a tad concerned about being there on a cloudy Monday, sure there wouldn’t be very many other hikers. I did not want to be alone on the hill with some crazy dude, you know. So I shouted, “Crazy dudes may take the day off today!” to the universe and took my chances.

The first person I met was an older lady with walking sticks who was on her way down. As I passed her, I quipped, “I wish I was you, on my way back!”
She said, “Just take it easy. That’s what I did. I decided I was going to make it to the top today, no matter how long it took.” I decided that was a fab idea and adopted her attitude.

The round trip trail from the trailhead park is 3.5 miles with an elevation change of 800 feet. If you know anything about anything, you’ll understand that’s a lot of uphill. To cope with the effort it took to do this, I made myself stick to a breathing pattern and keep a steady, unimpressive pace.

The day was gray, the temps right at 32 and the wind was blowing. It was a little bit wicked, but so exhilarating! I was reminded of a favorite Thoreau quote: "Take long walks in stormy weather or through deep snows in the fields and woods, if you would keep your spirits up. Deal with brute nature. Be cold and hungry and weary.”

I was near the bottom when I met my crazy dude who clearly did not get the universal memo about taking the day off. He was a tall man coming toward me on the trail, all bundled up in a dark hooded coat and a scarf wrapped around his neck. You could barely see his face. How would I identify him in the police line-up?

Then I noticed the shadow tripping along behind him. A little Pug wearing a red quilted coat. Last time I checked, crazy dudes didn’t bring cute sidekicks when they stalked victims on lonely trails.

Whew!

And, again, Yay me~!!!!!!
www.friendsofbadger.org

Pretty darned close to conquering Badger Mountain

Because I despise exercise involving machines and sweat, and I love being outside, I’ve been peeking into the world of hiking. My area has the most wonderful, open winters, with mild temperatures and lots of sunshine -- perfect for winter hiking. (You won’t catch me hiking in the 100+ heat, so I’ll have to be a winter hiker.)

My first hiking challenge is Badger Mountain. The largest of three prominent hills jutting from the flat landscape of the Columbia and Yakima river basin of the Tri-Cities, Badger Mountain is really more of a large hill, only 1579 feet above sea level. The mountain has been adopted and preserved by Friends of Badger Mountain. The group essentially bought the mountain fewer than 10 years ago, when it was in danger of being turned into a lofty perch for expensive homes, and has since worked to build miles of trails and raise money to buy adjacent property. The result is an outstanding recreational resource that is enjoyed year round by many people, from young families to older couples.

I was there on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, and it was the first really sunny day after a gray spell. As I suspected, I wasn’t the only one eager to be outside in the sunshine. The parking lot was packed.

From the base of the mountain, the trail climbs steeply. There are stairs cut into especially difficult portions of the path that ease the pain somewhat, but I was still huffing and puffing like crazy and had to stop to catch my breath repeatedly.

Whenever I heard someone coming up behind me, I stepped off the trail and let them pass. I was embarrassed to sound like The Little Engine That Could, so I am sorry to report that I often held my breath while they passed. Wildly stupid, yes. The result was, of course, that I was even more out of breath.

OK, not really. I came to the bottom of what looked like an impossibly steep portion of the trail and I just couldn’t make myself do it. Another thing I’m all about is Personal Comfort. Later, when I looked at the trail map, I realized just how close I’d been to the top of the mountain.

Next time I try to conquer Badger and I get to that point of the trail, I’ll just dig deep and pour on the steam. The Little Engine That Could will power her way to the TOP!

I hope there's a Dutch Bros coffee hut up there.

Budgets are for other people

There’s a good reason why I’m 50 years old and have never lived with a spending budget. Actually, there are a number of reasons: 1) I like to spend quite a bit more than budgets usually allow. 2) Budgets are hard. 3) I often see neat stuff that I want.

However, my new husband likes the idea of reining in our unnecessary spending so we have money to save for fun stuff like Mexican vacations, emergency appliance replacement and comfort in our old age – which is racing toward us with reckless abandon.

I know he’s right. (Hate when that happens.)

I was tossed into the tub of new experiences when I married him and moved from my hometown, kids and friends a year ago. I thought I’d got past most of the new experiences, but it seems that Living with a Budget was floating right up on top and I didn’t meet it until I broke the surface to gulp the sweet air of Feeling Comfortable.

Every two weeks we each get a cash allowance. We can save it for a big ticket item or we can fritter it away on Dutch Bros coffees, books, knitting paraphernalia, cool pens, craft supplies, etc. I, of course, am Team Fritter. In my book, “fritter” equals “enjoy,” which might be why he decided on the allowance thing.

Things have gone well until this week. I’ve already blown my allowance on my yoga class and some books and I have a whole week left. I really want to start a new knitting project and need to buy needles and yarn, but the $4 in my purse is not going to cut it. And a whole week without Dutch Bros? What to do??

Hubs says I’ll probably survive. I’m not sure, so I plan to spend the day in the Walmart parking lot.

One-a-day geocaching challenge

Just for grins, I set myself a challenge to get one cache a day for a month. Not two or three, just one. This is harder than you think. This afternoon, for instance, it was sunny and still and I was in an area riddled with bike and hiking trails begging to be explored.

My phone's geocaching app told me there were three other caches nearby and I was so tempted to scamper after them all. I refrained, however, telling myself that I can come back tomorrow and the next day, therefore prolonging the pleasure of stomping around in the desert in the winter sunshine. The cache is located so close to my house that the round trip, including hike and hunt, took only 20 minutes, afterall.

Pulling off the road at a trail head, I looked out in the direction my GPS was pointing (above), and, because I'm somewhat of an expert at geocaching, I assessed the situation thusly: "Betcha that cache is under a sage brush."

Sure enough, there it was. I signed the log and was back home in flash. 27 caches to go.