Pooping My Pants

Something prompted Owen and I to start our weekend at the wicked hour of four o’clock in the morning last Saturday… Yosemite National Park was calling our names! We made the three hour drive to the park’s entrance, and I limited myself to say ‘Oh my god’ only about 200 times. The drive there was so beautiful that I announced a few miles from the park that I’d be fine just turning around and going back home. Boy, how I would come to feel differently.

We drove through almost the entire park that day, stopping at several pull-offs to better see our surroundings and take photos. The best way I can describe it is… “I kept shitting my pants, sorry- pooping my pants.” Well put, I thought, by a lady at an overlook where you could see Half Dome in the distance. I overheard her say that, and we caught each other’s eyes and giggled. The scenery was just something else. I’ll let you see for yourself instead of babbling on incoherently.

View of Half Dome

We planned to camp in the park that night, and one of the reasons we had gotten up so early was to nab a first-come, first-serve site at a place called Tuolumne Meadows. I read that they recommend you arrive by noon to guarantee a site. So you can imagine how my stomach dropped when we saw the ‘campground full’ sign upon arrival around 11am. After Owen diagnosed my hanger, not making the situation any better, we stopped at this beautiful meadow cut by a babbling stream, ate lunch, and hatched a plan. At this point, all the campgrounds in the park were full. We now directed our attention to a group of campgrounds just outside the park. Though the park ranger working the exit told us not to get our hopes up, we managed to snag the last site at a peaceful walk in (read: no RVs) campground in Inyo National Forest.

After Owen took his second nap of the day (he was a driving champ), we set off on a hike. Our steep climb showed us magnificent views of the surrounding snow-covered mountains and brought us to the large Gardisky Lake. The land was teeming with pikas, these adorable squirrel/mice looking creatures. We enjoyed a delicious second lunch up there, and then out of nowhere, Owen declared he wanted to swim in the lake. Now, at this point I was wearing my jacket and wishing I brought my gloves- the windy, cool air did not scream ‘swim and sunbathe’ to me. But he insisted on doing it, so I dutifully cheered him on and snapped photos of the whole endeavor. Note the snow in the background. Yup, he's crazy. 

Have you ever gone to bed so early that you had to take off your sunglasses to do so? Well, we did! Around 6pm we called it a night and tucked into the tent. About 12 hours later we emerged into the light of day. We drove to a part of the park we hadn’t been to the day before (Yosemite Valley) and saw another view of Half Dome, our first sighting of El Capitan, several waterfalls, and the beautiful Merced River. I dragged Owen on a short waterfall hike; he dragged me to the museum. Then, sadly, we had to hit the road. Owen didn’t have to drug me as he thought he would’ve to get me to leave the park, but I was essentially ready to go back the moment we left.

This week, I drove into work with Owen one day and biked from his office to the Don Edwards San Francisco Bay Wildlife Refuge. Before lunch, I wandered around on foot and on wheels and went on a guided nature walk. In the afternoon, I did a 5-mile bike ride, around a man-made salt pond. There was zero shade, temps rose into the 90’s, on one half I was being pushed almost backwards by the wind, and on the other half there was no trace of a breeze, making it even more unbearably hot. In short, it was a ride from hell. I was so tired after that I had no choice but to just sit on a bench to while away the hours until Owen was to pick me up after work. I did strike up a conversation with what seemed to be an angel of the surrounding land, who knew every trail, every hill, every bike path, and I definitely got re-inspired from him to keep exploring. Though that would just have to wait until another day.

Overlooking salt marshes

Ride. From. Hell. 

Stay with me for this story: Owen and I discovered this dip in our grocery store in South Carolina, chipotle cheddar cheese dip, that we became utterly obsessed with. Then, all of a sudden, our grocery store stopped carrying it. We looked everywhere for it- nothing. Owen had already told me he’d searched the grocery stores in CA high and low for it and couldn’t find it. I actually looked it up on Amazon and was pretty damn close to spending $20 for one packet. We used to pay like, three bucks for it. That’s how much we loved it. So, I was grocery shopping while Owen was at work one day and I FOUND IT! I piled five of them into my basket before scaling back to only two. Anyway, Owen and I inhaled it that night with a TON of chips. Then, he declares that he brought home the craziest, the fastest Tesla and was going to take me for a ride. Are you thinking what I was thinking? I was destined to vomit. We went anyway, and on a deserted back road, he put his foot to the floor: zero to 60 in 2.6 seconds. I literally screamed and for whatever reason, put one foot up on the dashboard. That’s the Tesla roller coaster, I call it. But, I did not throw up. Breann: 1, Tesla: 0. I had Owen read the draft of this post, and he reminded me that we also drove the car in autopilot. Whilst Owen's hands were off the steering wheel and his feet were off the pedals, the car accelerated, decelerated, and changed lines, all of its own accord. This was so frighteningly futuristic that I had erased it from my memory. 

The week was rounded off with several runs (I found a running group nearby!) and a trip to the library. Last week, when I tried to use self-checkout for the first time, I spent about 10 minutes trying to scan the wrong bar code on a book. This time I was determined not to act a fool. Instead, I repeatedly scanned my grocery store card instead of my library card.

I will leave you with this: I chatted with my neighbor briefly as he was leaving one morning. I said something like, ‘How’s it going?’ and he replied with a sullen ‘You know, the daily grind.’ I laughed in agreement, but to be honest, that couldn’t be farther from the truth for me. I really am ready to have a job again, to meet coworkers, pursue interesting projects, and make that necessary moolah. But, one thing that I’m certainly not struggling with right now is a daily grind. And for that, I’m grateful.