Hiking is in my blood. I “hiked” my first mountain (The Rockies) when I was a little four year old pip squeak, which meant staying behind with Mom while Dad and Davey went ahead on the more treacherous parts. But we took many, many family vacations in which hiking was one of the key events.
One of the things that excited me most about moving to Pasadena was the fact that we are a mere four or five miles from the base of the San Gabriel mountain range. While they are not quite the Rockies in breadth or grandeur, they are our mountains. We see them every day, driving to work or walking to campus, green and lush, foggy, obscured by cloud cover, or even, on occasion, peaked by snow.
Saturday, thanks to a much more energetic second trimester for me and a much easier homework load this term for him, Peter suggested we try our second hike into the San Gabriels.
The first half of the hike was only 2.5 miles or so up, with another summit farther into the mountains after that. It didn’t seem too daunting; the weather was perfect (slightly cloudy and a chilly – for So Cal – 60s). But thanks to a fairly steep ascent full of switchbacks and the fact that Braxton Hicks contractions have begun, I wimped out at only a mile and a half. This was a new sensation for me while hiking.