It’s one of the cheapest recreation deals going: for as little as $5 an hour you can captain your own ship on any number of waterways throughout North Carolina. These bargain basement deals are offered at various county, municipal and state parks throughout the state.
Monday is never an easy time for the outdoors enthusiast, especially come summer. After a weekend of adventure, returning to the humdrum work-a-day world can make one melancholy.
To help ease this trying transition from out-in-the-Sun-day to Mon-I-wish-I-were-back-in-the-sun-day, we’re running a new feature every Monday, at least during the summer, called 90-Second Escape. Essentially, it’s a 90-second mini-movie of a place you’d probably rather be: a trail, a park, a greenway, a lake … anywhere as long as it’s out in the sun. Because there’s a good chance you might want to make such an escape yourself, we’ll include a resource list with each escape showing where and how to make it happen.
If there were justice in this world, every bank executive and mortgage handler in the land would be forced to turn out on Saturday and participate in National Trails Day. Rationale? Federal, state and municipal land managers are facing drastic cuts as a result of recent recklessness in the financial sector, and they’re more in need than ever for help to maintain existing trails and blaze new ones. Alas, since it’s doubtful we’ll see a brigade of shovel- and mattock-wielding pinstripes flooding our forests Saturday, it’s up to the rest of us.
This morning while in the car and listening to the BBC World Service I was reminded of why I like to run.
The story was about a study revolving around two questions: At what age do you you consider yourself to be old? At what age do you stop considering yourself to be young? The question was put to people in several countries and the results differed wildly depending upon local. The British, for instance, stopped seeing themselves as young at 35 and officially old at 59. The Greeks, on the other hand, thought themselves young until 51 and not teetering into geezerhood until 68. Speculation abounded among the experts interviewed about the discrepancy. (I’ll post a link to the story when it’s posted by the BBC.)
I was momentarily discombobulated when they couldn’t find my registrastion, recovered when they granted me an-on-the-spot sponsor exemption, then rediscombobulated when I was standing at the starting line with less than a minute to go and realized I’d never gotten a timing chip. Well, rats, I thought. The race won’t count.