It has been one wet, muggy and downright gross summer here in Atlanta, but as with any rain, there are always sweet rainbows to follow, or better yet, skies like these.
The other plus side is mud. Yes, the kind five-year-old boys usually go giddy over, however, this summer I’ve joined that club too. I don’t think it’s a secret by this point that I take any time outdoors that I can get. Living in Atlanta vs. let’s say Breckenridge, it sometimes seems that groomed parks or urban trails might be the best we can do for a little spin with mother nature. And although I do love those places, it is the muddy, gritty, root-filled trails that make my heart sing. Surprisingly, Atlanta is filled with those paths too.
This summer’s weather has lead P and I to get a little more creative with our post-work hiking outings. It has lead us to not so well marked cliff-side trail detours (which also led to a LOT of chigger bites. Gross), afternoon canoeing adventures when the well-versed option for a tubing trip was squashed thanks to too high (and too bacteria filled) water, and most recently it has lead me to try my hand at mountain biking (try being the key word here).
I came home from today’s biking adventure a little sore, covered in Georgia red clay (my shins may now be stained in red streaks), feeling slightly accomplished, and excited to tackle it all over again.
Sometimes when mother nature throws you a few too many cloudy monsoon days, the best thing to do is to get out, explore and embrace all she has to offer. Just be sure to pack a towel and an extra pair of Chacos. That’s what washing machines are for after all.
Summer, let’s call this my official plea to never, ever leave. Unless you want to take a short break for October, but then come right back now, ya hear?
