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Hampshire Rocks Microadventure - Why Not?

  • May 4, 2015
  • 2 min read

Driving solo four hours today could be met with dread. But it could also be met with a sense of adventure. It is a rare chance to do NPR and Seth Godin podcast marathons. A useful strategy for such drives for me is also to stop halfway at an interesting place to have a meal, excellent cappuccino at a local joint (the only kind worth stopping for), maybe a little walk. Which is what I did in Sacramento with the bonus of spending QT with a couple friends I have not seen in years!

After a not-so quick stop at REI in Sacramento (which involved a bit of plastic-swiping action for new gear.. ack!), I was ready to drive the next two hours straight with thoughts of training on my mountain bike when I get home before dark. But in life, I have learned that when one makes space for spontaneity and microadventures, life is better lived!

Making a wrong exit off the I-80 freeway a couple of years back, I stumbled upon Hampshire Rocks. They were countless massive boulders with the South Yuba River rushing all around it. It was so beautiful and extraordinary that I told myself that I should go back someday to camp or hike and explore more of it.

It hasn't happened yet, but today, I passed it on my way home and this time, I swerved at that exit and decided to explore. I was alone and wearing improper clothes and shoes (but in all fairness, my Aerosoles sandals had a strong grip for jumping and clambering on top of big rocks) - but the only question I had whether I should go for it or not was simple - why not?

I drew a blank.

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It is not lost to me how fortunate and privleged I am to be having these experiences. I do not take it for granted that in Maslow's world, I'm doing rather well. My elemental needs are met (and there are days, exceeded) and I acknowledge that such is not the reality for some people. And as I end this afternoon's microadventure at the Donner Pass overlook, I really wish, deep down, that everyone could have a slice of beauty as this.

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