Gravel and Breeze

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Slight apologies for the long-ish post below, but it's worth reading. I think.

Last summer, I was introduced to this wonderful dirt trail that runs along the Ripon Country Club Golf Course, behind a large almond orchard, under some huge overhanging trees, and back beside the cartpath somewhere near what must be the 11th hole or something.

It enchanted me. And ever since...well. *holds up hands* First thing you should know about me. I am the hugest sucker for secret hideaways. Little places that only I know about. If they're tucked away on some lonely outdoor path? Psh. Even better.

And ever since I've been aching to come back. Oh, it's fun to see my cousins and swim in my uncle's luxury pool and all those lovely, normal human things. But I have not been able to get that glorious path from my mind.

(Also, I'm not athletic. So biking is just about the only thing I can do that could possibly qualify as "working out", ergo, I love love biking.)

So this morning, I jerked myself awake at the lovely hour of 6:00am. Sheets flailing (I'm not kidding), I stumbled over to my iPod, irritated that it hadn't woken me early enough, only to find that my internal clock had woken me a full 45 minutes early.

Well, I thought. Better now than ever.

(You see, in Ripon, it heats up fast. It was supposed to be in the 90's by nine. But right now, as the sun was just coming up, it was a balmy 72, which happens to be my favorite temperature.)

So I tugged on some shorts and kept my 49er's t-shirt on from bed because, hey, I wasn't going to see anyone worth impressing. I stuck my iPod, sunglasses, and phone in a tiny messenger bag over my shoulder and chugged a glass of water in the kitchen. I spent a few minutes pumping up the tires in my cousin's bike, pinching myself accidentally in the process. And then, per the norm, I started the musical selections for the morning with a quiet film sountrack coming through my earbuds that was perfect for, say, pretending like you're sneaking out.
Dork.

And I was off.

And oh, what a morning it was. There were streaming rays of sunlight coming through trees everywhere. It made me wish someone was making a movie of the whole thing because the lighting was so perfect. There was a soft breeze from my moderate speed wisping my bangs back from my forehead. It was warm, but not dripping-with-perspiration-while-suffocating hot, as it would be in a few hours.

And the trail. Gah. I almost cried. Being by myself, doing whatever I want, in some beautiful setting, can literally make me happier than almost anything in the world. Gravel was softly crunching under the tires, I had these brilliant songs playing, and I could even indulge my photography-loving side to snap top-notch pictures with my phone, while moving, no less. *brushes off shoulder*

But I digress. The point is...

Well, the point is that I'm happy. This morning made me so happy. I don't get that happy much. My plans that I make, to do something, to be somewhere...they almost never work. I was half expecting to get stopped by golfers as I passed the NO TRESPASSING sign. I was half expecting my mom to say it was too early for me to go out by myself, but when I came back, the rest of the house was still sleeping.

(I'd like to take a detour here to say that if anyone reading this has never done something that involves coming back before the rest of your world has woken up, it's a marvelous feeling. Try it sometime.)

And now I'm sitting here, typing on my grandparent's ancient, clacky, awesome keyboard. My 49er's t-shirt is now a purple tank top. My thick, slightly sweaty ponytail is now a (relatively) neat side braid. But I'm still smiling.

Am I going back next year?

What do you think.