I have been a bit lax recently but it is certainly not due to lack of material to post. I am still settling into the routine of having two new jobs and rebuilding my social network to keep myself occupied. Perhaps I am succeeding a bit too well on that account, as I believe I have spent approximately an hour in my apartment in the past month. It really makes me wonder if it is worth it for me to pay the exorbitant rent or if I could get by living out of my dad’s truck. There is a certain appeal to being able to pack up and leave at any given moment but my life here has been so compelling of late that I am not caught up in the whirlwind of wanderlust that usually hits me around this time of year. However, this line of thought is not the purpose of this post.

Missy convinced me to take a rock climbing 101 class at Upper Limits over the weekend. I was a bit reluctant at first but that Groupon did the trick and honestly, I am glad I went, hung over and all. We listened to the instructor for about half an hour before she let us practice anything at all. I had to learn how to tie the knots properly and how to alert the climber that I was prepared to support them on their way up and down the wall. Finally, we were allowed to attempt our first climb. Missy and I stuck to the easy wall for the first one and I approached it with some trepidation. I did not want to make a fool of myself in front of everyone but being born in the year of the monkey must have helped me tremendously since Missy had to tell me to slow down several times. Once I mastered the easy path, we moved on to a more challenging course of action. Still, I destroyed it. We had to leave shortly thereafter but it was a wonderful way to spend a Sunday morning and I hope we take the second class sometime soon.

Why am I posting at nearly midnight on a school night? Well, folks, I have my good days and I have my bad ones and tonight has fallen into the latter category. I cannot sleep so I thought I would take the time to write.

On Sunday, I followed the advice of my coworker Sam and headed out to Babler State Park to hike but before I get to that, I need to take a detour to talk about the suburban nonsense one is forced to drive by prior to getting there. The subdivisions out this way are absolutely ridiculous and unnecessary as far as I can tell. The houses have enough gables to proclaim them as expensive and are far enough from the city to show that the occupants have escaped all the urban problems that beset St. Louis proper….that is, until the next exurb opens up beyond them. I have trouble understanding why people move to the first ring of suburbs, let alone all the way out in land once considered a flood plain.

Beyond that, however, lies Babler, a state park that remains nearly untouched by the encroaching development nearby. It is a serene place to get away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. I stopped off at the visitor’s center on my way into the park to grab a map and talk to the woman behind the desk. I knew from some prior research that the park is quite large and did not want to waste time getting lost along the way. The friendly woman pointed out a great trailhead that serves both the Dogwood and Woodbine trails so I started there.

The walk itself was beautiful but the paths are not particularly strenuous, which was probably a good thing for me following two days of activity. I spend about two hours meandering through the woods on these paths and could not have felt more relaxed afterwards. I am already searching for my next hiking adventure and hope that someone will be able to join me next time.

I woke up this morning to a perfect blue sky and moderate temperatures and decided that this was an opportunity to get outside that could not be missed. This decision may also have had something to do with not wanting to clean my house but that is not the point. The point is that every time I drive on I-44 and see the brightly painted Grant’s Trail bridge, I want to check this bike path out but by the time I get home, I have forgotten this piece of information. Not this time, however. Last night, Susan mentioned going for a bike ride this weekend and it must have planted a seed in my brain because that is the first thing I thought of when I opened my eyes.

I should back up a bit and say here that I have not ridden my bike since early spring when I made the mistake of dusting off my bike and riding for nearly eighteen miles. About halfway through this journey, I realized not only was I running low on water but the bike seat was also rubbing me the wrong way…literally. Nothing was more miserable than the last five miles of that trip. By the time I got home, I was swearing like a drunken sailor and barely able to walk.

Fast forward to today. I have not been on my bike since that incident but figured that this trail is touted as being paved and flat. I am now smart enough to fill the bladder on the CamelBak to take on the ride and bring a sports drink for post-riding replenishment. The seat, however, has not been changed out so for the first half of the trip, I was fine but it was not the most pleasant experience on the way back to the truck. True to the website’s word, the trail is mostly flat and has a decent amount of shade and rest areas along it. The only real problem I encountered besides the seat issue was the wind hitting me in the face as I struggled to make it through the final few miles. All in all, it was a great experience and I hope someone will be able to join me next time.

Unrelated side note: Someone needs to stand by my side and keep me from buying a digital SLR. I really, really, really want one.

There are days when I need to take a break from everything day life. Yesterday was one of them but with an added bonus: Jesse, my friend and former roommate, sent me a text asking me to join him for an afternoon hike at Castlewood State Park. As it was a beautiful day, very few people were in the office anyway so I had to wait for a bit before I could find someone to sign my vacation slip. Within half an hour, I slipped out of the office and nearly ran the few blocks back to my house. I changed clothes, grabbed my gear and flew out of the house, breaking all previously set land speed records.

As we set out on the River Scene trail, I heard a few rumblings in the sky. Looking up, the clouds had started to gather but we kept moving, not wanting to let this day pass without a good hike. Soon, however, the first drops of rain began to fall upon the tree canopy. Still we kept on, under the train tracks and up the steep stairs to the top of the ridge. The rain continued to steadily increase, though it felt really nice on my skin. I snapped a few photos from the top but we were quickly chased back underneath the trees. The rain became nearly unbearable as we were coming down the final hill of the trail and the loose rock was quickly becoming really slick. I cannot recall how many times I tried to break my ankle on that particular incline but it was more than a couple. Fortunately, there was a shelter at the bottom of the hill and we were forced to sit there for about 45 minutes waiting for the storm to pass. The two of us were soaked through by the time we made it back to the truck but I felt it was completely worth the use of three hours of vacation time to take a break from the craziness of every day life.

To preface this post, Andy and Howard are my big brothers, the two guys I trust to make sure I am not going off the deep end, though I can guarantee you that they will let me make more than my fair share of missteps before they intervene. In fact, before I started dating The Ex, they had to meet him in person and do a number of background checks before they could sign off on the relationship. Though The Ex passed their tests, it obviously did not work out in the long run but I hold no grudges nor do I doubt their judgement.

I have not had the pleasure of hanging out with just the two of them in ages so when Andy suggested a night of laughs, I was on board faster than the speed of light. He lives way out in the county but I was not going to let distance stop me from a night out. Fortunately, Mr. H agreed to drive because the night got interesting quickly.

We went out to Funny Bone and I, for one, have not laughed that hard in ages. I really and truly needed that escape. I am not even truly sure that the comedians were that funny or if I just wanted it to be funny but it really does not matter in the end. I laughed and laughed until my sides hurt. I have not felt that relaxed in ages and I thank my big brothers for the most wonderful evening. It could not have been more perfect.

Native St. Louisans will mock me for this entry but I had never been to the Muny. Incredible as it may seem after living in the area for over a decade, I had yet to experience one of the grandest summer traditions: sweltering in the heat and humidity to watch a musical extravaganza unfold on the outdoor stage. It is a rite of passage in this town and one that most children pass through while very young, an important fact to note up front when your friends decide that The Little Mermaid would be the perfect show to attend.

I suppose I should disclose here that technically I have been inside the theater before; it just was not during a performance. Years ago, the theater was renovated so a fellow student and I busted in there in the middle of the night to check it out. Even by the light of a partial moon and with no other people in sight, the venue is immense. To be inside with thousands of others is a bit awe-inspiring.

Back to last night: my neighbor and I met up with the larger group shortly before the show started but since tickets had been purchased several hours prior, no time was lost at the Will Call booth. With tickets in hand, we passed through the gates, paused at the concession stand to pick up some frozen lemonade, and headed to our seats in the middle of the amphitheater. Soon after, the giant outdoor fans were switched off and the performance began. I have never seen so many young girls dressed as Ariel staring in rapt attention at the stage below. It was amazing how quiet the place became with that many children in attendance…well, quiet except for two of my guy friends who enthusiastically sang along with nearly every song and laughed at the ridiculous seafood puns. In fact, to further embarrass another member of the group, these two gentlemen serenaded her all the way down the concourse following the show, earning them a solid round of applause from the surrounding crowd. Though this particular musical is a far cry from serious theater, I enjoyed myself immensely and am looking forward to returning again in the very near future.

For those of you in Missouri and surrounding areas, I need to provide no additional explanation of what is involved in a float trip weekend. It is an annual summer tradition coded into the DNA of every child born in the region. Summers are meant for sweltering in the heat and humidity, punctuated by bacchanalian getaways filled with partially-clothed partyers cruising down a river in some sort of flotation device typically towing a cooler or two of cold beverages. Around here, you can casually mention the words “float trip” and those nearby will nod their heads sagely, while flipping through memories of drunken adventures past. I had been on a camping trip that involved many of the elements while I was living in Minnesota years ago but I have never had the opportunity to go on a Missouri Float Trip until this past weekend.

This trip was planned and carried out mainly through the efforts of a trio of outstanding women in the Air Force who have taken me under their wing in the past few months. Though they tend to speak a foreign language full of acronyms while in groups, I admire their independence and ability to get things done in any circumstance. It seems that every mishap is another reason to shrug and move on, a mindset that I am working on achieving for myself these days.

I only want to mention a few things about our trip since it was pretty much the standard package. The four of us left Friday night and after a two-hour drive, made it to camp just in time to put up our tent and pull a small fire together before the full darkness of the wilderness was upon us. We were having a bit of trouble getting the wood to catch fire due to all the humidity and rain from the past few weeks but lucky for my campmates, I had packed all the love letters from the Ex so that I could watch burn. Remembering this, I pulled them out of my bag and we used them both as tinder to start the fire. The notes worked well as both a fire starter and as therapy, though I did feel a twinge of sadness at losing them.

Saturday, we floated on the river in two canoes and I am proud to say that I was only fully responsible for one of the tip-overs. We were out on the water for three hours, meaning that I am now sporting a really interesting sunburn. With my fair skin, I knew it was inevitable; it was just a matter of which part(s) of me would hurt later. Turns out that in this instance, the tops of my knees, most of my shins, the lower part of my chest, and my lower back are sporting the mark of a good day outdoors.

I had a wonderful weekend overall but could not have rejoiced more at the sight of my own apartment and all its modern amenities. After a long, sterilizing shower and a refreshing nap, I feel like something that approaches human.

An important aside: My suitor from the HTML class contacted me the day after class and we have scheduled a date for this coming Thursday (Update: Make that Wednesday).

Up next: Second shift