When God made me he ran out of sporty spice and gave me an extra dash of personality. I've never been known to be extremely athletic, outdoorsy, coordinated or down with manual labor.
Come to think of it, there is a Billy Currington song that covers that part of me in a nutshell.
However, I like to think throughout my life I have become less vocal about my general dislike for activities that involve playing sports, the great outdoors or coordination when paired with a great payoff like spending time with friends, drinking beer or getting to see something really pretty.
And so begins the story of the day Gleason, Becca and I went hiking in Rocky Mountain National Park and I earned my Wilderness Badge ala Troop Beverly Hills, the second best movie ever made (Overboard = undisputed winner).
During our drive up to Estes Park, I taught and slaughtered the other two at a rousing game of "Dingo." We ate lunch at some sort of local sandwich/pizza shop where our waiter's name was Lance. He didn't strike me as that great of a waiter, but from the looks of our ticket, he's only waiting tables until his drawing career takes off.
We proceeded to drive through part of RMNP until we got to the bus stop that would take us to the trail we wanted to hike.
I feel it deserves mentioning that Becca and I had told Gleason we wanted to do the handicap accessible hike of Bear Lake, but once we got there, Gleason and some foreign lady with a beautiful accent were apparently in cahoots, and quite quickly convinced me that doing the Nymph, Dream and Emerald Lake hike was a better choice.
While there were at least 4 times during that upward hike I regretted abandoning that original plan, because I was breathing so hard, I think you'll agree from looking at the pictures it was totally worth it.
Nymph Lake.
View between Nymph and Dream Lake.
You'll notice an abundant amount of pictures that have Becca walking in the water features because she had some sort of fancy pants water resistant shoes she bought for their trip to Costa Rica. She was hoping to brag about having dry feet while I complained of soggy socks, but there was one hole in her plan...I don't "do" water features. Point Erin.
Dream Lake.
Cool twisty tree.
Emerald Lake.
Wilderness girl Schlegel and Troop Leader Phyllis Nefler (Gleason).
Wilderness girl Garrett and Troop Leader Phyllis Nefler (Gleason).
Before agreeing to go on a hike I told Gleason I needed her to do research on how to survive a bear attack. Together we were equipped with the knowledge that in general you don't ever want to sneak up on a bear (duh). However, if you are being attacked by a brown bear you are suppose to play dead unless it starts to eat you, then you are suppose to fight back (and ultimately die). If attacked by the much smaller and apparently smarter black bear you are suppose to fight back immediately (before ultimately dying).
Unfortunately, or fortunately, we did not encounter either the brown or black bear. We did however see a chipmunk eating bread left behind by another hiker,
this badass blue bird,
a spotted rainbow trout
and these lady elk.
I didn't say I earned my animal identification badge, people.
So, all in all, an awesome day. Although, I did leave the mountain with physical proof I might be allergic to hiking.
Look at my fingers and how they turned in to little smokies! Becca's swelled a little, but nothing like mine. I felt like that obnoxious girl in Willy Wonka that eats the gum and turns into a blueberry "Violet! You're turning violet, VIOLET!"
Up next...the day I discovered I do not like jam bands.
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