Don't pee where you sleep

Happy New Year!  It's been a while, so let's jump right in...

Like many of you fine people, I have made myself some 2013 resolutions.  At the top of that list is my skin care regimen.  I wash my face diligently every morning, but in the evenings (when I probably need it most) I often lapse in the face washing/wrinkle cream-applying department.  I have some other resolutions as well that I won't elaborate too fastidiously on, but they're your standard, drink less, love more, blah blah. Number One: skin care.  Remember it.

That indirectly leads me to something that came to fruition today.  I've been sleeping in some type of yurn spot in my bed all week.  Yurn, if you must know, is code for 'urine' - but I can't bear to actually write the sentence, "I may or may not have been sleeping in a giant urine spot for the last week or two."  Ugh.  Just did.

Let me explain.  I moved into my parents' guest house 2 weeks ago.  I have been sleeping there with their/my dog, Gumbo.  Gumbo is a fabulous little creature with a face and personality that I could talk about for hours.  Sometimes he looks at you and you can tell by his big eyes that his whole world revolves around you.  He kills me.  But, Gumbo also has a skin condition, or a food allergy or something that likens him to the beagle, Itchy from All Dogs Go To Heaven.  The poor guy is in a constant state of scratching.  To further digress, my favorite thing is to scratch him and get his little leg thumping.  If I scratch with two hands, he gets two legs going at once.  Then - he's so ticklish that he'll be scratching and tickling himself at the same time - legs.everywhere.  This is generally the highlight of my day because I'm unemployed and he puts some laughs into my otherwise uneventful country life.

What was I saying...  Gumbo.  In my little house.  Scratching and licking up a storm.  At some point in the last week to ten days, I woke up in the middle of the night and could've sworn I smelled yurn.  But whatever, nothing was wet.  Days 2, 3, and 4 were similar.  As I was falling asleep, I'd catch a subtle whiff.  I brought my Mom's super-nose in to sniff it out, but she said I was smelling things and just washed my pillow cases.  2 days ago, I was utterly convinced that because Gumbo licks himself so much, his saliva was making my bed smell and that 'saliva-smell' combined with 'dog-smell' equals something resembling the putrid, unimpeachable odor of urine.  I'm going down a rabbit hole here because I seem like some girl who sleeps in pee and doesn't really think twice about it.  I promise that's not true.

That brings us to today.  Laundry day.  I stripped my bed to bring the sheets to the house and what caught my eye on the mattress pad was none other than a giant, dinosaur-sized yurn stain.  This wasn't even at the foot of the bed.  It was dead center and top near the pillows.  There's no way something went that much on my bed, right where my head lays, without me knowing about it.  I'm utterly convinced it was not Gumbo as he does not occupy the little house without my supervision.  He's also impeccably mannered.  Frankly, it's a mystery.

Alas, this all loops back to my Numero Uno Resolution because in my week long effort to step up how I take care of my skin, I've been cleansing, toning and moisturizing right before I (essentially) put my face in something else's pee.  Is that irony?  I'm going to go with, 'yes.'

This is now my worst "Yurn on a Mattress" story ever.  There's more than one?  You bet your bladder there is - but last time, I sure as hell didn't sleep in it for a week.

How to survive a hurricane like a toddler.

Most of you know I work in politics.  And all of you know that Hurricane Sandy hit the East Coast pretty hard yesterday.  DC was lucky and I'm so thankful that I kept power and kept dry for the last 24 hours.

However, being that the election doesn't stop for 'a little rain,' I worked all weekend - and yesterday, and today and 7 days a week for the last 6 months.  So, what I'm trying to say is I haven't had a lot of time to go to the grocery store.  In fact, what I found out last night is that my cabinets consist of only Cheerios (no milk), Pasta (no sauce) and a lot of expired canned goods.  I also found some really moldy yams in my refrigerator crisper.  I don't even want to talk about that.

So what did I do last night when I got home from work, hungry for dinner and not a restaurant delivering or open for miles?  I survived the Frankenstorm like a toddler - munching on dry Cheerios and pasta with butter.  In fact - when I woke up this morning, it was the first time in months that I thought, "I can't WAIT to get to work....And order some lunch."

And that, my friends, is how to survive a hurricane as a baby adult, which I still kind of consider myself to be, considering I can't even get to the grocery while CNN is predicting the end of the world.

In Conclusion...

Here it is.  Week 61.  And so concludes (less than) 60 hikes in 60 weeks.  I'm ready to recap, and make excuses for, the last 60 weeks of my life.

I just tallied and I have completed:

19 hikes.
2 Guest Hikes (thanks April and Matt)
8 Races (from 5k to 10 miles)
A slew of museums, events and sights to see in the DMV.

Seems kind of anti-climactic, am I right?  I definitely thought I'd done like, 35 hikes...  But I've also survived an earthquake, a hurricane, an apartment fire, bike theft and car theft.  Oh, and election season...I'm surviving election season.  Frankly, 60 hikes in 60 weeks was a bit unrealistic to begin with because winter happened - which took up 3 months, and work happened - which has been occupying my last 4 months of weekends pretty solidly.  Every other year, I lose summer and fall.  It's sad, really.

And another excuse?  I started out hiking and walking, but ultimately a lot of my hiking weekends were replaced with runs and races, and I'm pretty proud of that!

Other things to report...

Though it was a major goal of this blog, I didn't lose any weight and my calves have grown two pant sizes.  I did however go from running a 12 minute mile to a 10 minute mile - so there's the silver lining.  I'm basically all muscle.

I kind of just lied because I only run a 10 minute mile if the distance is 6 miles or less and if I was running two months ago.  That whole thing about work has really cut into my running, as well as my hiking.  Also, I'm not all muscle. I'm all calves - I thought we established that?

So, What is the future of le Blog, you ask?  Fret not, little hikers.  It turns out I kind of like nature (not to be confused with liking bugs or sleeping on the ground) so I think I'll stick to the hiking and the running and adventuring as hobbies.  But, I'm also thinking I'll try to write more about whatever strikes my fancy and see what happens, so you'll see some changes in the weeks to come.  Most likely, you won't hear from me again at all until after November 6.  But Thanksgiving through Christmas is going to be a really exciting few weeks, with trips to San Francisco and Georgia in the works.

Special thanks to my guest hikers of course, and to the people who laughed at my mishap-fraught life along the way.

And that's it.  The sixty's survey...I accomplished less than a third of the goal I set for myself.  Which I'm NOT going to take as a metaphor for my life or anything.

I AM THE MUFFIN TOPPER!

It's been brought to my attention that my good friend and graphics artist sent this email to his entire company just 2 months ago.

Guess what?  

I AM THE MUFFIN TOPPER!

Sorry I'm not sorry.

Atlas

H Street NE (or The Atlas District) is kind of the next up and coming area in DC.  Rejuvenating (and what some call, gentrifying) the area has been in full swing for the last few years.  It's now got great pubs, restaurants, the Biergarten, tons of art and hipsters - and the only thing IMO from really stunting it's full potential is the fact that it's impossible to get to (and home from).  If I had a dollar for every time someone said, "Oh, they're building a trolley that goes out there..." I'd be a much wealthier woman, and safer having not waited 30 minutes at 2 AM looking for a cab.  This has been in the works since 2009. Said Streetcar is apparently opening up in 2013. But I'll believe that when I see it.  

Luckily, I have my trusty bicycle to get wherever my heart desires. So Saturday, I was pedaling to the H Street Festival - complete with food trucks, music, art exhibits and other local staples.  Some girlfriends of mine who live in the neighborhood met up with me as well.  They said this was the first year that the festival was so huge.  By 2:30 pm, it was wall to wall people and practically impossible to walk around.  They even lamented that it reeked of Eastern Market - that the festival had traditionally been just H Street fare and not just a new location for the Market one weekend.  I think that if I frequented Eastern Market as often as I'd like, I'd have had the same complaint.  It's nice to go somewhere that feels unique and not attend an event that has literally transplanted one section of DC into another.  H Street has enough unique-ities to offer that with everything extra, the festival wound up being overwhelming, similar to being in a crowded bar - except redeeming itself that it was outdoors on one of the most beautiful days DC has seen in months.

Here's a little recap:
I ate at two food trucks, the Lobster Truck and Dangerously Delicious Pies.  The Lobster Truck is a favorite of mine, great lobster on a yummy roll.  The only complaint is it's like, a 4 inch roll.  It's the measliest 15 dollar sandwich you've ever seen in your life.  But sometimes, I like to treat myself to things absurdly priced if only to remind myself that I'm part of the privileged elite who live in a metropolitan area (like, my rent comes to mind...).  I justified my pie craving by the fact that I ate a doll-sized sandwich and meandered over to the DC staple, Dangerously Delicious Pies.  I've been dying to try this place because people are always gabbing about it.  And, well...my chocolate peanut butter pie, I dare say was just dangerously dry.  7 dollars for a slice of dry chocolate pie was another chance for me to say, "Whatever, who else can say they ate pie out of a fancy truck? I am seriously lucky. And awesome."

I feel like I'm complaining now, when actually I had a great time, and would definitely recommend these neighborhood festivals to any resident or tourist.  But go early, because the crowds get crazy and bring a wad of cash to just throw at somewhat mediocre food.  I got there around 1:30 and it was much more pleasant than when my friends showed up around 3.  Pictures below!

H Street NE now has it's own historical 'Heritage Trail' DC walk.  

I think there's about 13 different historical trails through DC neighborhoods. My apartment building is actually along the U Street route.

Art.  

I didn't write anything here, lest my ideal city be tainted by 

'California' and 'More Vegans.' 

Shudder.

Art of every bar and restaurant sign from H

Toki Underground Book Exchange.

This bar/restaurant converted itself into a bookstore for the daylight hours.

Lobster Truck!

Banana Car. I don't know why this exists.

We're in the same order here as the Banana car. That was unintentional.

Green Light, Green Lane

Hi guys. It's been a while. But rest assured, if my plans of world domination and a couple of days off in the next two weeks are realized, I have some exciting events to attend in DC and share with you.

Like:

 The H Street Festival, DC Fashion Week, a video game art exhibit, and my fave event of the year: The National Book Festival!

In the meantime, check THIS out!  One small step for bikes...

Sometimes, I'm riding my bike and I'm all, "WHOA..where'd my bike lane go?!" or, "WHOA..This is NOT a turn lane, DUDE!"

Constify bike lanes, DC! CONSISTIFY!

Check out GreenLaneProject.org for more deets!

Walk It Off

This is what I do. I fall. So on my run this morning, I fell. 

 And after 4 hours on a plane, I'm gimpy. Sad face.

Pope-Leighey House

On the second day of Girls Weekend 2012, Mom, Mrs. Fish and I ventured out to Alexandria, VA to see the Pope-Leighey House - a Frank Lloyd Wright designed, Usonian home.  I don't want to act like a Usonian expert or anything because most of my FLW knowledge stems from the fictional Howard Rourke and what the nice tour guide told us last Saturday.  I will only recommend that you drive the half hour out to Virginia to see it for yourself.  I will also recommend that you read The Fountainhead, but that's mostly unrelated.

I thought the house was incredible - though I'm not super down with the ug furniture, or the fact that you can never change it.  But the windows, the built-in bookshelves and the screws that are all horizontal were really beautiful touches.  Pope-Leighey is one of the smaller Usonian homes - built for the 'average American' with a budget that started around $5,000.  This got me thinking: About ten years later (hm, give or take), Levitt homes would be sold for just under $8,000 and they would open up suburban living and make homeownership an integral part of the American Dream.  Wright totally had 10 years on William Levitt and was more of a pioneer than I had previously realized.  Also - none of that Levitt stuff was on the tour.  I'm just that smart.  You're welcome.

So now, I'd be really interested in seeing a Wright home at a grander scale - aka - who wants to drive four hours with me to see Fallingwater?  Car must have radio and ac/heat, so Matt is disqualified from this adventure.  I'm now accepting applications.

Below are some pictures of the exterior of Pope-Leighey.  For some reason, the historic society doesn't allow pictures of the interior.  Google it.

The Billy Goat Trail

I have a tendency to say I've done things when I haven't.  Not like I'm a liar, but I generally don't ask for clarification on things so I'm just like, "Yeah, I know, me too."  But then I'll find out months later "Oooooh, those are Cherry Blossoms...Why didn't you tell me that?"  And the Billy Goat Trail is no different.  Many people in the last year have asked me if I've done the Billy Goat Trail out at Great Falls.  Well, I have been to Great Falls and hiked it.  Twice.  So I was just all, "Yaaaa, I looooove the Billy Goat Trail."  It turns out though, that until last Friday, I didn't even know what state the Billy Goat Trail was in, let alone hiked it.  Who knew.

So with Le Mom and Mrs. Fish visiting last Friday, I decided they should take me on a hike since this blog hasn't seen one in a while (and that's kind of the point).  I have only been to the Virginia side of Great Falls, so I thought I'd bring Mom and Dara to the Maryland side of the park, and guess what?  That's where the Billy Goat Trail is.  And guess what?  The Billy Goat Trail is way hard.  It's just rocks. With some blue paint on some rocks.  Beckoning you to get closer to the edge and fall off.  When we passed a sign that said "Danger: People Die Here" and had only the Falls to our right, I pulled the plug and turned us back.  I wouldn't wish the Billy Goat Trail on my worst enemies.  And it was certainly a little too intense for me.

Gross.

Me. Le Mom. Mrs. Fish.

C&O Canal Towpath

As soon as it said "jumps across open areas" Mrs. Fish and I were like, No.

Here lies Billy.  

He fell into the water trying to jump across open areas.

Then, since I'm pretty sure my luck is hereditary, our car broke down.  Kind of.  Pulling out of the parking spot, Claudia's finely tuned ears heard something dragging under our car.  She pulled back in and slid underneath to find the air dam hanging off of the undercarriage.  These are all car words I'm unfamiliar with - so apologies if I'm using them incorrectly.  Claudia, being a super-badass-mom, slid under the car with some borrowed pliers (on loan from the man in the car next to us, who did NOT offer to aid three stranded ladies), ripped off the rest of the air dam and got us to the nearest Ford dealership...because Said Man told us the car would explode (or overheat, whatever) without the particular part we just ripped off.  Thanks guy.  Your commentary was priceless and actually, completely incorrect.  Once Mom saved the day, I returned the pliers.  And smiling, I told Said Man, "Thank you, sir.  Be sure you check out the Billy Goat Trail."

A new trail

Last weekend, I went on a 4 mile run around Glover Park and Georgetown.  About a mile and a half of it was through a trail in the Glover Archbold Park.  Eh...there's not much to say other than I wore the wrong running shoes.  Minimalist shoes didn't really work for the unpaved, rocky trail.  Trail running is actually pretty cool - the terrain is soft and as long as I looked out for tree roots and rocks, it was nice to be under the shade of the trees.

So, this blog needed a new hike - and here it is - a hike/run; 1.5 miles through the park pictured below.

You should see the tree

Last night, I walked into a low hanging tree branch.

I can't make this up.

Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?

GUYS.  This:

HAS ME SO EXCITED!!

I fancy myself a Wizard of Oz enthusiast.  And if you saw the dusty boxes of collector's items I had as a child, you'd probably agree, and then you'd wonder how I turned out so normal.  And if you're thinking that I'm not actually normal, one of the reasons that would be is the abnormal amount of Oz paraphernalia my parents indulged me with as a youngster.  Porcelain dolls, collector's plates, Christmas tree ornaments, fridge magnets - at my pre-school, I even met the Coroner Munchkin.  I'm kind of a horse of a different color.  

This guy.  I'm serious.

When a new rendition of Oz comes out, I do my research and am generally on board.  I love Wicked, the musical, but I was mostly annoyed with Gregory Maguire's excuse for a novel, because seriously, I don't want to hear the Wicked Witch's story.  She's bad, Dorothy is good, let's not overthink this - Capisce?  Also, that man built an entire career out of 'alternative fairy tales' and, I think that's weird.  Just saying.  Otherwise, I'm completely obsessed with the Wizard of Oz.  I realize the musical is based on the novel - but the musical is just better.

So without further ado - let me tell you why this movie, a prequel focused on The Great and Powerful himself, has me overjoyed and somewhat skeptical.  I'm in a hot-air balloon of emotion.

This movie will be awesome because:
1.  James Franco.  He is amazing despite agreeing to co-host the Oscars with the mushy Anne Hathaway (Strike 1) and then showing up high to do so (Allegedly.  Is that a strike? You be the judge).

2.  The movie begins in black and white and becomes color when the Wiz is over the rainbow.  It's the perfect homage to the original film.

3.  It will not star Johnny Depp.  Can we breathe a collective sigh of relief on that one?  


This movie will be an abomination because:
1.  It obviously will have a love story that steals the innocence and fantasy of the original film/story.  Many a film has been ruined by adding relationship drama to a children's tale that wasn't intended to have it.  The remakes of Willy Wonka and The Grinch come to mind.  The trailer here makes it look as if The Wizard and one of the witches have a fling and I'm just like, puh-lease.  Let's not go there, ok?

2.  Inevitably, some horrible graphics/CGI/3D designer will come in and turn Oz into "look at all the cool stuff I can generate with my computer."  Rein it in boys, we just need a yellow brick road and a glowing city of Emeralds - you can leave the weird fantasy bugs and fairies for the next live action remake of a Disney cartoon.  Oz is magical, but it's not Pandora.  Thanks.

So I'm thinking I'll go into this with the enthusiasm of Eeyore and I'm hoping I'll come out having found my tail.  I may even bring porcelain Dorothy in her glass case to sit next to me in the theatre.  And her little dog too.

A girl can dream...

I just read this:

Basically, I'm desperately hoping that I'll pop over to this website one day and find a picture of Addy somewhere safe where I can go retrieve her.  

Though I know after the first 24 hours, chances of surviving an abduction are slim to none.*

In other news, some of you may know that The Adventurer was kindly replaced by a noble benefactor of this blog.  I ride my new bike to work now almost daily, but last weekend I went on my very first serious bike ride with Matt.  We drove out to Vienna, VA on Saturday and biked the W & OD Trail into Shirlington, then stayed on the Shirlington trail to the Mt. Vernon trail, at which point Matt takes a left towards Old Town and I take a right back into the city.  

Sunday, we went to pick up Matt's car in Vienna so we did the reverse, meeting at the Airport where the Mt. Vernon Trail forks to head towards the W & OD and out to Vienna.  It was about 22 miles each way.  I'm guesstimating.

Newsflash: I'm obsessed with biking.  I bought a Camelbak and padded shorts and I'm obsessed with biking.  Next weekend is the Capitol Crescent Trail.  Stay tuned.

*I realize it's probably a terrible metaphor to liken a bike theft to a human kidnapping, but I'm not generally known for my tact.

The Blueberries of Wrath

Last Sunday, Daryl, April and I went to Homestead Farm for berry picking!  I have never picked anything in my entire life - but I fancy myself a regular Katniss Everdeen.  Homestead Farm is full-service to say the least.  They grow everything you can imagine.  And you can come any day of the week and pick whatever has bloomed. They have everything from Christmas trees to apples, blueberries to cucumbers to sweet potatoes.

We embarked on our adventure with the intention of strawberry picking.  When we arrived, there were blueberries to be had.  It was so fun!  We passed some not-quite-ripe blackberries on the way back to the general store and decided we had to come back when they ripen!  Which - hopefully, will be Saturday, when we plan on returning.

The Farmer's Market

Blueberry Bushes

Berries, when you turn black, we'll be back.

Things My Optometrist Told Me

FYI:  I also contemplated naming this post "Bodily Function Friday" but I thought that would give people the wrong idea.

Anyway - on to things my optometrist told me yesterday:

"Your eyes are a toxic wasteland and you should put those contacts in a museum."

"I haven't seen protein build-up on lenses that bad since before disposable contacts were invented."

Sweet nothings whispered by a doctor I hate seeing more than ... Well, I will give you 3 guesses.

Even though I see Dr. Arnold Miller only about once a year, I like to think he remembers me fondly as the girl who refuses to take out her contacts.  It's true - and it's gross - but I can make 6 months worth of contact lenses work for 18, and not wear my glasses once in the medium.  Since I started seeing Dr. Miller 4 years ago I've actually asked him to custom design a regimen for me so that I never have to remove my contacts ever again.  He has begrudgingly compromised and obliged, prescribing lenses that allow more oxygen flow through my eyes and which require less maintenance.  Gross...but cool.  I in turn promised him I would take said lenses out once a week - which I obviously don't do.

Talk to me about my teeth and I'm a total basket case - I have a too-frequent-to-be-healthy dream of them falling out.  I brush, I floss, I rinse and my dentist is so impressed with these pearly gems that he only has me come to one appointment a year instead of two.

Apparently, as far as my vision is concerned, I lack the same conviction.  Which brings me to yesterday.  Dr. Miller prescribed new lenses for me in November which, for the first time in a decade corrected my slight astigmatism. It was life-changing - but that's another story for another time.  But in January, I started to notice that the lenses really bothered me - burning, cloudy vision, dryness, etc.  I attributed this to my poor habits and actually started removing my lenses like, once a week - sometimes going entire three day stretches removing them every night, and even changing my lenses every 4 to 6 weeks.  Crazy, I know.

When I told Dr. Miller this, he looked at me shocked and said, "You've been having this problem since January and you're just now coming here?"  Well Arnold, since you asked...I'm a girl on a budget, work doesn't provide optical insurance coverage, and i figured it was my own fault for sleeping in my contacts every day for the last 17 years.  You know, the usual.

Arnold then dropped some knowledge on me, which we can read into the deeper meanings of over a bottle or four of wine later if you so should desire, but he said: "Kathryn, your contacts haven't changed - you have."

Chew on that for a minute.  I did.

But but but, I attested, for the first time EVER I have a quasi-regimen for cleaning these bad boys, and providing oxygen to my eyeballs and all that STUFF like hygiene you've been guilting me about for the last 4 years!

After further inspection and some rather hurtful comments about the poor condition of my lenses, which were, quite literally, choking the life from my eyes, Arnold also deduced that after almost 2 decades of refusing to take out, clean, and routinely dispose of my lenses, my eyes are rejecting contact solution. So by trying to take my lenses out, soak them and then stick them back in my eyes, I was further irritating the situation.  I believe the word "secretion" was thrown around but like, ew, gross.

Told you so, Arnold!  I'm a rogue lens-wearer and I'm blazing my own dirty trail, tossing aside modern-day conveniences like contact solution.  I'll just say it: Contact solution is for wimps!

Ultimately, Dr. M did what some optometrist should have done 10 years ago (and I'm not talking about giving me toric lenses - because that is a beef I have with any optometrist I've ever been to who claimed to correct my vision but was only giving the cheapest solution, I digress...) Ahem - Arnold did what an optometrist should have done 10 years ago, and that is give me daily disposable lenses.  Its the solution requiring no solution. Get it?

I'm going to have to adjust to the added time in the morning - I've always thought it daunting and time consuming to put in contacts every day - which is why I never did.  But you win, Arnold.  There's an Earth Day style effort to clean up the wasteland of my eyeballs and I'm bringing my reusable bag, or whatever.   

But seriously, if anyone knows of a contact museum - I have some lenses for sale.

Running in Chicago

Last weekend while visiting Chicago I went for a lovely run through Loyola Park and Loyola University's lakeside campus. Below are images of the park and Lake Michigan. Also, I'm pretty obsessed with my new app, Polamatic. It's the new Instagram. Also, I just blogged this from my phone with te Blogger app. iPhones are the bomb dot com.

Well, You Know I Like My Chicken Fried

Something terrible happened last night, and I'm not entirely sure that I should be putting this story in print...but no one was harmed, so here goes.

Last night, I fell asleep with chicken in the oven.

It all started when I came home from work.  It was after 9pm, so I had some cheerios for dinner, but was forced to cook the chicken I had thawing in the fridge, lest it go to waste.  The chicken went into the oven around 9:25 - where I promptly forgot about it.  I know I fell asleep sometime between 10 and 10:20, since I only remember a little bit of the Big Bang Theory episode I was watching.  And when I happened to wake up at 3am, my apartment smelled like a 4th of July Barbecue!  I instantly thought, "Weird, I wonder if my neighbor is cooking..."  Then I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep - a few minutes later, realizing, "My oven is on, and that is WHY my apartment smells like an amazing chicken dinner!!"

This episode, combined with the time that I almost fell asleep with the stove on (only to be disturbed by the hissing of the gas), makes me pretty sure there's a part of my brain that has not fully developed.  I'm worried about me, really worried.  And the chicken still went to waste.

A Funny for the Weekend

Ok, I keep reading and re-reading this hilarious little bit from Buzzfeed:

 33 Animals Who Are Extremely Disappointed in You

I'm also going to take this boring Friday to point out my favorites.

*Sidenote - as I narrow down my faves, I'm realizing I love them all.

Cute, right?

Mosey on over to Buzzfeed - All 33 are really worth LOL-ing at.

Gardens Are Like Nature

The Washington Post sent out this lovely little guide of gardens to visit in (and around) DC!  

You can walk around gardens, so I'll be visiting a few of these (and blogging about them) in the coming warm months!  Read the article here.

Pohick Bay Regional Park or Hooray For Signs!

Thanks to April for writing this up!  She's my very first guest blogger to I Like Hike!

On Sunday, April 8th the Mr. and I headed to Pohick Bay Regional Park.  There were plenty of signs from the freeway to lead the curvy way to the park entrance.  After entering the park we encountered odd signs requesting identification that indicated you were from Alexandria, Arlington, etc.  And by golly there was a booth with a woman who asked for the driver's license (apparently passengers are exempt?  I wasn't asked, so I didn't offer).  The website has plenty of information, but nothing regarding that you be a resident.

We gently meandered along noting all that was available - camping, miniature golf, water park, etc.  There appeared to be plenty of parking for all the activities.  We parked near the dock area (dock fees, please!) and the Mr. headed for the restroom and was pleasantly shocked - it was modern and unexpectedly clean!

There were numerous picnic tables and grills with a lovely view of the bay.  *Please note that this was Easter Sunday, so most families seemed to come for a picnic or water fun.  We had the trails and woods entirely to ourselves.

The entrance to the trail wasn't clearly marked (I've learned that they never really are), but the signs that were up were wonderful - what color trail, distance to service road or camping site, etc.!!!  The trail wasn't groomed, but well marked.  We started with the blue trail and happily encountered a wooden bench near the bay to enjoy a pre-packed lunch (I'm big on food, what can I say?  And doesn't it always taste better when eaten outside?)  We were joined by many, many inch-worms.  Luckily inch-worms fall under my "cute bug" category so I wasn't screaming like a banshee; I merely gently flicked them off into the leaves.  There were plenty of felled/downed trees along the trail to offer picnic seating or a place to rest.  After lunch we continued along the blue trail with gentle to steep hills, a large ravine, and a nice scenic outlook at the top of the hill amongst the tree boughs.  We eventually crossed the orange trail (again, good signage regarding distance and destination).  We passed "comfort station #3" complete with laundry facilities - appeared very nice from the outside.

We ended up back (somewhat) near where we parked the car.  Also spotted a boat rental area, complete with boat tours.  We'll look into that next time : )