Everywhere you go these days someone or other is recommending
that you stop lying on the sofa watching trashy daytime talk shows
and start getting out into nature.
Everywhere you go these days someone or other is recommending that you stop lying on the sofa watching trashy daytime talk shows and start getting out into nature.
“Drop that bag of chips!” they say. “Get on your hiking boots and increase that heart rate. You’ll feel so much healthier!”
This, I must say, is not a good idea. Take, for example, the other day when I volunteered to go on a hike with my daughter’s Girl Scout troop. Now, to most people, this seems like a sane and reasonable thing to want to do. I mean, what could be wrong with spending some quality time in the California sunshine with your child?
But what hadn’t occurred to me was that I’d be spending the day outdoors along with a dozen or so other preteen girls. All afflicted, in varying degrees, by what I call: The Attitude.
And not only that, I got the feeling my daughter didn’t even want me to go by the way she began interrogating me at breakfast. Our conversation went something like:
Her: You do realize that it’ll be freezing out there, right? And you know how you hate the cold.
Me: But it’s sunny and 70 degree-
Her (very brightly): And there will be snakes. Lots of snakes.
Me: But it’s not snake seas-
Her: And you’re not going to wear the floppy flowered sun hat, right? RIGHT?
Sure, a wiser person would’ve taken it as some sort of hint to stay home. But, me, I’m not that wise.
Now, any preteen girl will tell you that the most important thing about going hiking, besides choosing color-coordinated shoes, is stocking the backpack with supplies. They’ll tell you that must be ready for any emergency situation that might happen on the trail like, say, suddenly coming upon a cute preteen boy. OK, so maybe this is stretching things a bit, but all I’ll say is that among the bottled water and first-aid kits, we had three bottles of nail polish (red, pink, and glittery), two nail clippers, several tubes of lip gloss (cherry), and hair scrunchies in every color. I figured if a wild animal attacked us on the trail, the girls could hold it down and give it a pedicure while I ran for help.
When we arrived at the designated hiking spot the first thing we did was break out the supplies to make “gorp.” (For those of you who don’t know what “gorp” is, it’s outdoor lingo for “food that instantly attracts lots of bees.”) Oh, all right. It’s really a type of trail mix made of Cheerios, chocolate chips, peanuts, and whatever else the girls could find to bring. However, by the looks of it, the bees had been waiting for this day for a long, long time. In fact, I suspected that throughout the world some kind of secret insect emergency system was broadcasting, “Alert! Alert! Hikers with gorp! All units report immediately to the west parking lot! Repeat. All units report immediately!”
Now I must stop right here and say that when it comes to bees there are two types of people on this planet: The ones who react calmly, gently winding their way through the swarm without getting stung. And there are the ones who yell, “Aaaahhhhhh,” while waving their arms around swatting the air wildly.
Bet you can’t guess which kind I am.
That said, we implemented Emergency Bee Plan Number One: Run.
Eventually we ended up tired but bee-less, at the start of a nice, wide path that snaked along the reservoir designated in the outdoor pamphlet as “A Beginner’s Trail,” which we all know is really outdoor lingo for “The Fire Road.” But that’s OK. We were still able to see the native foliage and some wild animals (OK, cows) and plenty of flat places that would make, according to the girls, a nice spot for a Starbucks or a mall.
And, you know, by the time I got home I did feel a lot healthier. That is, except for the bee sting on my right hand and the blisters on both feet.
Sometimes it’s a funny thing how nature works.
