Miniature Adventures

In the midst of all my thinking about moving and deciding to move and actually moving, I got rather far behind on my SWH writing. So with some deadlines coming up next week, I have had to put in a lot of hours in my spare time and haven’t really explored yet. But I have seen a couple things.



Friday afternoon I headed to Muir Woods for an educators’ symposium, so I arrived about an hour early to have a little look-see. I did a two mile loop hike, apparently with everybody else in the world. I cannot remember ever being in a National Park that was so crowded. Also, as it turns out, being high up in the hills in the Bay area smothers you in fog and you can’t actually tell what time of day it is. Although I showed up at 2:30, I spent the whole evening thinking that it must be getting late. And let me tell you, the fog is rather disconcerting when you are driving home in the actual night and see absolutely nothing on the side of the road. Just one massive abyss.

Anyway, one of my favorite people, John Muir, once had this to say about the Monument named after him:

“This is the best tree-lover’s monument that could possibly be found in all the forests of the world.”

As Matt will happily tell you, probably more than once, I am not so much a tree lover. I am a mountain lover, a broad vista lover, a rocky coastline lover. Yes the redwoods are impressive, but what with the people and the dimness, I’d really rather be here at Golden Gate.

Also I had heard that the road to Muir Woods is terrible and, from more than one person, that you might actually get sick while driving yourself. I was relieved to find out that although a small part of it was comparable to the “scenic highway” to Silver City, at least it wasn’t 30 miles long.



Today I went for a walk by my office. Well, I meant it to be a walk, and I was dressed for and prepared for a walk, but it turned into a hike. Because of course if I see something tall in front of me, I have to get to the top of it. (Unless that something is, say, over 12,000 feet. Luckily this one was probably less than 1,000.) In around 5 miles, I didn’t even finish my water bottle! I tried to make myself drink, but I guess it’s just not the desert here.

The hike featured a better view of the stunning scene in which I work:



As well as views of the city, as displayed above. (Sorry about the terrible picture.)

And some extreme creepiness:



Usually I make fun of Matt for being scared of abandoned buildings, but this was freaky. The trail led up between two rows of barbed wire fence and into a gate, which I’m not sure was supposed to be open. I can’t imagine the Park Service thinks it’s a good idea to let tourists wander around in falling down buildings.

The wind was blowing remnants of building pieces around, the gate was swinging back and forth and squeaking, and a lone raven was hopping on and off one of the most decrepit structures.

Of course I went in anyway, because I had to get to the top of the hill. And there is something intriguing about the juxtaposition of nature and war.