Flowers that have no idea we are quarantined. It’s amazing to me that two weeks ago, everything was slightly different. The week before that, it was only very slightly different. We had been watching and waiting to hear how our country was going […]
Last night, at 10:30 p.m., I was in my pajamas, scooping up as many Duplos as I could and doing a quick list check in my head. What was on the agenda for tomorrow? Answer: I couldn’t remember. How were we on diapers? Answer: poor. […]
Several months ago, my husband mentioned that he wanted to get back into hiking and backpacking (which is really different from camping, because instead of keeping everything conveniently in your car, you actually wear pounds of items on your back and walk far into places to set up camp and be eaten by mosquitoes. Then you have to repack your items, strap them back on you, and hike back out). He started reading a ton of books bout hiking in our area, looking into trips, and purchased a new tent. He set it up in the backyard one fairly cold night, in order to test out the temperature rating of some of his gear. The kids had a field day.
“Where’s daddy?” Question one of the morning.
“Outside.” I’m nothing if not honest.
“Why?”
“He slept out there.”
“On purpose?” Their eyes were huge as they regarded me. “Did he get locked outside?”
“No! He wanted to.” Cue more shocked looks.
The advantage to all of the discussion surrounding how to camp and hike, is that we were trying to spend a little more time outside. If you follow me on insta, you may have even noted that I tagged one of my photos with the infamous #optoutside hashtag. I might tag more.
We went to our favorite state park, also conveniently a short drive from our house and got ready to hike. Meaning, we immediately headed up to the visitor’s center to have a picnic lunch. I wasn’t about to take two hungry kids on a trail. It was beautifully set up- you could buy t-shirts, mugs, look at examples of some of the flora and fauna you might see on the trail, and…
“What’s this?” I asked, scooping up a small, non-descript booklet at the desk.
“It’s the State Passport.” The girl behind the desk was bored, spinning lazily in her chair and watching the afternoon drift by. I started flipping through it, and that’s when things changed.
“Oh my…. hey! Y’all! Have you seen this? If we visit all the state parks in one year, we can get a t-shirt! And socks! All we have to do is get our booklet stamped at each park center!”
Everyone stared at me as I clapped my hands with glee, and bought two t-shirts for the kids, and then dragged us outside for a picnic lunch at a table, thanks.
We got our stamps, and on the way home I started flipping through the book. Forty state parks (technically forty-one, but you get the swag for “only” completing forty). We got home and I pulled out my laptop and started planning. Which parks were closest? Is it too much pressure to try and do three parks in one day? Our weekend trips would become all about the state parks. Maybe we could work a family vacation around one too. Which friends would go with us?
“Is this really all I had to do to get you interested in camping? Offer you a free t-shirt for some really hard goal, and you’re in?” Matt was incredulous as he watched me furiously map out routes that would take us as close to possible to the state parks when visiting family.
“Well, yes. I’m a marathon runner. We will do a lot for a t-shirt.” I went back to planning. “Okay, what if we hit Lake Norman on the way to your parents house, and then Stone Mountain when going home? Too much?”
I began looking at my gear, trying to decide which backpack baby carrier to get, and reading hiking blogs. We could do this. It would not be easy- after all, we have two kids under six, and we work full time. But it could be done. We were going to do it.
Fast forward to weekend two in this challenge. Saturday morning. I have been up in the middle of the night, again, and am exhausted. Matt is already warming up the espresso machine downstairs and all the little people are clamoring for a Pop Tart. The sun is shining, the temperature is supposed to hit the low 70s. It’s going to be a beautiful day.
“What parks are we hitting today? Maybe Occoneechee and Eno River? Or something closer?” Even my voice is wavering a little bit. I really just want to work on Marie Kondo’ing my clothes, and I want to get in a run, and there are like five loads of laundry calling my name.
“Sure! Or, I could do some yard work and go to Home Depot.” Much better plan for Saturday. But then, I spend a good part of the day agonizing over wasting one of our park days when we are all together and don’t have other plans. We should be at a park right now, I think, as I unload the dishwasher- again, and make plans to move laundry to the dryer. The kids go to the park for a couple of hours, and come home happy and sandy. The question is: will they be happy to come home sandy from 40 state parks?
