How I Spent My Summer Vacation

The view from Les Bourgeois Vineyards, just up the bluff from the Katy Trail near Rocheport

I’m back! After two weeks of vacation and one week of being too lazy to blog, I’m finally back on my regular schedule. How did it go, you ask? Well...

Short version: we quit the Katy Trail. It was reaching a level of not-funness that was disproportionate to the bragging rights we would have upon completion (read: none). After a week, we had shivered through some unexpectedly cold and stormy weather, Zach’s feet were nearly crippled from tendon pain and deep blisters, and I had a somewhat painful rash covering my entire lower body. Also, the forecast predicted five days of violent thunderstorms. So we said, “Screw it,” and went home.

Cool railroad tunnel

I hate quitting, and for a couple days I moped around the house, fighting depression. I felt like the entire trip had been a waste: a barely-managed 121 miles on a perfectly-flat trail was not an accomplishment I could feel good about. Zach finally convinced me to snap out of it, and we decided to spend our last few days of vacation in Nashville, visiting my brother and sister-in-law and some other friends. We relaxed, ate good food, didn’t walk, and returned home with enough time to work on some home projects. So the vacation wasn’t a total loss, it just didn’t turn out the way I hoped it would.

Francis, Christian, and Zach enjoying hot dogs

Anyway, glumness aside, the Katy Trail was actually quite beautiful, and Zach and I had some great days strolling through prairie, along picturesque farms, beside the Missouri River, or through dense forest. We also enjoyed having my brother Christian and Zach’s brother Francis join us for our final day, which included an epic bonfire and lots of hot dogs. 

I’m hoping that someday we can return to our stopping point, Jefferson City, and hike the rest of the trail, just so I can finish my mental measuring line from one side of Missouri to the other. 

In the meantime, I’m glad to be home— I’m still on break from my job, the garden is flourishing, we have some exciting projects in the works. After months of feeling restless and discontent, I’ve realized, with some surprise, that home is a place I want to be. For the first time in ten years, I feel rooted. And that is a wonderful feeling.

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