Adventures

In recent years, I have become much more of an adventurer. Though I once held back and stuck to the beaten trail, I now appreciate the wonders that can come from striking out onto the path less taken. I am not merely talking about turning left when your gps tells you to turn right; I also include other examples of making unconventional decisions that can involve some risks.

Most of the time I was in Tahoe, I skied. I have been a skier since I was very young and feel that I can manage my way down basically any route on a mountain (even if I don't always look pretty). I feel good skiing and enjoy tough challenges. Squaw Valley was particularly fun as I found myself with an extremely proficient snowboarder who knows the mountain inside and out.

But to take a risk, I rented a snowboard and asked my host/former snowboarding instructor to give me a complimentary lesson. As an experienced skier, I know what it feels like to slip down snow, how edges work, and other such nuances of a controlled fall down a mountain on waxed platforms. However, skiing is quite different from snowboarding. The feeling is different, particularly with both of your feet stuck together, unable to move independently. Nonetheless, I ventured - adventured. From the beginners' area right to a blue square and all the way down the mountain. As I lay on the snow after one of my infrequent falls, I thought to myself that there was no better way to be spending my year off.

Our trip out to the coast brought more adventures. Stopping in Napa for a day was of course beautiful and interesting. A very different wine-making region than Bordeaux, it contains (or appears to contain) more much diversity in the types of vineyards and how they represent themselves. We did a wonderful tour of Rubicon (Francis Ford Coppola's vineyard) and enjoyed an exquisite meal. In the midst of sampling some wonderful wines, I thought about my sentiment about snowboarding the day before and decided that Napa's activities were an equally good way to spend my year off.

The adventure really began the next day with the torrential rains. I had wanted to see the Sequoias in Muir Woods, just north of San Francisco. These West Coast trees are some of the largest living organisms in the world. Despite the rain, we ventured. Into the woods for a walk. We marveled at the trees and at the less than impressive level of waterproofing in our various articles of clothing (my cashmere winter jacket became more of a sponge with that wonderful wet carpet smell).

Leaving the woods, we came to a fork in the road that offered San Francisco or Muir Beach. Choosing the road less traveled, we opted for the beach. Finding ourselves on the fabled California Route One, we wound our way along the winding road sandwiched between cliffs and the roaring Pacific Ocean. Over moving streams of water and small clusters of fallen rocks, we continued. We picked up some rations (a couple bottles of water and a bag of chips) in a little coastal town called Stinson Beach and headed back exactly the way we came, to brace the treacherous road once again. What an adventure. And what memories.

My entire trip out to California was somewhat of an adventure. It carried risks and held the potential for huge rewards. I will forever be grateful that I ventured. As the necklace that a family friend gave me for Christmas advises: take chances.