We recently returned from our latest microadventure. It was fabulous. It feels like we are just starting to get our adventure groove back. This time we went off-grid, to some remote BLM public land in central California, catching the last of the flowers in the chaparral. Tater took care of us; we were back on solar power. Our little kitchen was packed with food. We kept a sack of adventure and inspiration books by the settee. It was fifteen miles to the nearest cell service or internet. Incredibly, we found a spot where the Bureau of Land Management had recently constructed some sun canopies, perfect for hammocks. We hiked in the cool mornings, then spent hours in our hammocks in the shade, reading, dosing and admiring a million dollar view from the side of Laguna Mountain. On the last day we stopped at Pinnacles National Park for the last visit of the season and were rewarded with ... snakes. Bear Gulch Reservoir was full of beautiful black and yellow garter snakes. I have never seen such a density - at one time we saw five in an area the size of an automobile, hunting just at the water's edge. So of course I put a foot into the water and let them slink over me. A biologist's dream. But the Western Diamondback Rattlesnake on a later hike was a different story, as I have never seen one buzz so long and intensely at me. It was a big magnificent creature.
And as usual, we felt better as the days went on. We had challenges. Our rig got dirty. A tire went flat. We got scratched, hot, cold, and at one point acquired a few ticks. I took outdoor baths every day. It was perfect. So I am now up to slow 3 mile runs. A long way from a marathon but I have been here before-- a marathon is nothing more than a series of 3-mile runs.
The doctors have told me that my chances don't change by living large, that I really have little control over this miserable disease, but I do have control over whatever time I have --- as nearly all of us do. So go and make stories. Right now.