Do you ever step onto the grocery cart when there’s a slight downward tilt in the parking lot and say, “Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee!” as you quickly coast to an abrupt stop?
Ever turn the music up louder in your car and “dance to the music” while driving?
What about when you’re at the beach, do you point your toe like a ballerina and gently dip your toe in sandy swirls as you walk?
I’m convinced what we adults need, is more play time. I’m not talking organized sports here, nor am I talking about board games. I’m not talking about flirtatious banter between you and your co-workers, though that does make for an enjoyable work environment. What I am talking about is a step back in time.
Let me share with you something of my past week. While in Tahoe with old (and now, new) friends I got to pretend I was a kid again. I got to play and eat and laugh and enjoy myself in the company of others. I got to recall the feelings you had as a child or young adolescent during your youth. Here is what I did:
I ran along a trail at D.L. Bliss State Park. Jumping off the dock followed this and executing cannonballs or jackknifes into Lake Tahoe near the Vikingsholm State Park at Emerald Bay. Later, we swam along the shore at Baldwin Beach and swam in and out of waves like dolphins at sea.
Day #2 was kayaking from Baldwin Beach back over to Emerald Bay again, quite a distance. We beached the watercrafts and swam over to Fannette Island and then repeated everything in reverse. I pretended I was Pocahontas the Princess and enjoyed the view from the front of the two-man kayak as we headed back to our original destination. We witnessed a Bald Eagle soaring above us as we first embarked upon our adventure. Later, as we returned, we witnessed Peregrine falcons and their giant nests located at the tops of the trees along the shoreline. It was magic.
Our third day of adventures involved a car trip over to Donner Lake (but no one asked when we would be there or had to stop to go to the bathroom, so that was the one deviation from being a kid that I can think of….). Upon arrival, we jumped on our road bikes and road up and up and up the old Hwy 40 to Nordin. The sky darkened as the cumulous clouds turned ominous and we raced our way down the mountain to our starting point. Just as we were arriving, huge drops of rain fell upon our heads. We quickly changed “costumes” and ran in the rain to our next location, a finger of water that fed into the lake. We peeled our clothes and shoes off to reveal swimsuits underneath. We then waded into the water to cool off further and swam to the mouth of Donner Lake. We headed back and had to ford across the water with our shoes, phones, and clothes. We climbed our way out of the rocky shorelines to dress and run back to the car, to eat, of course. Later that evening, we talked late into the night, none of us quite ready to “call it a day.” Our conversations ran the gamut of topics, and reminded me of late night sleepovers shared with my best friends growing up where you share secrets, longings and tales of adventures.
The next day began with a short bike ride to the Pope Estate and then back again where we decided we needed to wake up our friend (good thing he was already conscious by then or we would have had to jump on him to wake him up…we snuck quietly in to do so but alas, he squealed to let us know he was alive). We headed out yet again to The Red Hut and ordered three meals. Every few minutes we passed the plate to the next person so we could each enjoy the savory delights, so that in all, we each nibbled samples to complete our trio of diner delicacies.
Believe it or not, we were not quite through yet. We completed some chores and then ran along Taylor Creek and to cool off, jumped in, naturally. Later the mountain bikes came out of the shed and a crazy test of my abilities was to begin. But not, my friends, until we had driven over there with a smiling dog, three people on a very tight bench seat and a whole lot of laughter. The bike ride included a mountain trail, a steady climb up a narrow paved path and then the switchbacks began. This would be where my shoes kept coming unclipped, and when they were clipped in, I didn’t realize how much I dragged my left foot (and how that caused me to get caught on rocks, almost falling over or crash). From there I decided to keep my right foot unclipped so I could use it to stop or push off the dirt, rock and other mountainous debris. Sadly for me, due to the previously mentioned challenges, I found myself headed straight into a GIANT tree! I miraculously avoided a crash into the GIANT tree by falling on my right shoulder and quite literally, “ate dirt.” What do I decide to do at that point? I drink water and say, “I’m making mud.” It was then a rollicking ride back over dirt mounds, followed by a path of beautiful wild flowers and tree saplings lining our path.
Sigh. All too soon it was time to go home to suburbia and head down the mountain.
Today I got back up on my mountain bike (with new pedals, mind you, and many, many bruises covering the insides of both of my legs). I road gravel and dirt trails behind the homes and schools surrounding the neighboring town. I stopped counting jackrabbits after fifteen were spotted, the ground squirrels were too prolific to number, and a vulture passed overhead. I listened to my music as I whirled down the road, thinking, “Wheeeeeeeeeeee!”
It was a little taste of Tahoe right here in the suburbs.
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