Last month I traveled with Knitiot to the Mile High City of Denver with a lofty goal to run in a Warrior Dash on Copper Mountain – a soaring 10,000 feet in the sky. For those of you that are elevationally challenged, that is 8,000 feet higher than Blacksburg, VA.
It was a wild ride of a vacation. For details please see “Oops.”
People compare the Appalachian Mountains to the Rocky Mountains all the time it seems. If mountains could flex, snarl and throw out hairy eyeballs, then I’m certain these two ranges would. The east feels inadequate to the west’s height (and skiing) and the west is perhaps slightly envious of the east’s moisture and rolling blanket o’ green. Whatever. Neither is better, they’re just different. And like curly vs. straight, we all think what we don’t have is better than what we do.
Personally, because I know you’re dying to know, I judge the two more in regards to clientele. Sure, we *can* be outdoorsy over here, but it takes a little nudge, a little convincing, a little effort; a little working through nerves, emotional handicaps or, really, a little challenging of the excuses (time, money, in-grown toenails) that so easily spit from our lips.
But hobbies of the mountain biking, hiking, camping, kayaking, skiing, etc. kind are a given with everyone you meet out yonder. They are ready with a “Sure! Let’s go!” instead of a “Well. Um. What’s the weather gonna be like this weekend?”
So I came down from the mountain high feeling a little low, wishing I was returning to a land where I could easily get high with my Appalachian friends. Tee hee. I’ve always been the “Sure, let’s go!” girl. But now more than ever I want to nudge you in all the right places and passionately disregard all your excuses. It’ll be fun, I promise. And, besides, getting a little dirty just makes the shower feel better.