Last Sunday in August 2023

Mt. Baker from Boundary Way

I have seen this mountain from just about every angle, including from the air as I've flown over it. This one was taken by a friend a week ago, on that hike I didn't take myself. For awhile I really regretted not going, but with the ability to take shorter and easier hikes on Tuesdays with the Happy Wanderers (Group 3), I don't feel nearly the tug of the High Country that I once did. That said, I will still make it up there at least one more time this summer. Fall is my favorite time of the year, and it should be delightful after the heat has settled down somewhat and I might even have to carry a sweater and a raincoat. All four Group 2 hikes in September are in the mountains, and I think I could do them all if I go more slowly, which is what Group 2 does regularly. I'll wait until I see what the weather gods predict; Ptarmigan Ridge is scheduled for the first week in September. I did it successfully with Melanie last fall, so I'm hoping for a repeat this year.

In trying to decide what to write about this morning, I spent some time going back into previous posts I wrote in some long-ago Augusts. Now that I've been writing here for fourteen years, I can go back and see what I did and what was on my mind back then. Often when I think of the future, I imagine what it might be like in five years, so first I went back five years ago to 2018, before the pandemic but after I had given up skydiving in 2015. When I turned 72, I made one more skydive and then sold my gear to a young woman, giving her a good deal and making myself feel better about giving up something that consumed me for more than twenty years.

It turns out that looking back five years ago is not that different from what I am doing these days. I went on lots of Thursday hikes, attended yoga classes two or three times a week, got a regular massage (from the same person I still see today), and spent time in my backyard garden. However, the pandemic took my yoga classes away as the studio shut down and several others in town also couldn't afford to stay open. These days I take a single class on Mondays at the Senior Center, which is not really enough for my taste, but I know what to do and sometimes actually give myself a "class" performing some of my favorite asanas. For me, it's just not the same without the wonderful instruction I received from my teachers, as well as the feeling of being in an environment with others like myself, stretching and reaching for better postures. I can still remember the instruction, though, and use that as a way to keep trying to improve.

I was surprised to learn that I was struggling on those hot August hikes into the High Country even five years ago. Here's an excerpt:

Lately I have been feeling very out of place on these hot summer hikes, falling farther and farther behind the others as I struggle to keep going. With my legs all a-tremble and fighting back nausea, I considered whether it's in everyone's best interest for me to go along. There are easier hikes, and I wonder whether it's just my own ego that keeps me from going on them. I actually almost joined the other group last week, but they were going somewhere that would be just as hot and, as it turned out, they turned around after a couple hikers got sick in the same way I did, mostly from the intense heat and lack of shade. And I did accomplish the hike without any permanent injury to anything other than my self-esteem. (from 2018)

Yikes! The fact that I kept on trying for so long is a little embarrassing, but then again, they were not all like that. I've never done that well in the heat. However, it's five years later and I'm just now taking the hint that maybe I shouldn't subject my eighty-year-old body to such indignities. Since I've discovered the Happy Wanderers, I don't have the same hole in my hiking activities. And I am not the oldest one in the group, either. That makes a difference. Although we are all seniors, there is a real difference between being simply old and being old-old. I'm so fortunate to have mentors to show me the way forward.

And then I went back ten years, before the pandemic and while I was still skydiving. I remembered that even then I had the same massage therapist and attended the classes at the Y religiously. Those classes are long gone, and now the Senior Center has taken its place for many of my activities. I attend a Zumba class occasionally and always take the Monday yoga class. Looking back, though, I was again reminded what the huge part of my life skydiving was, and now it's faded into memories.

My week is always better when I've been able to get in a skydive or two, since it's an activity that I enjoy so much and know that the days are numbered for us to get up in the air. By the end of October, the season has shut down in this part of the world, and September is right around the corner. I saw a maple tree yesterday that has flame-red leaves already. So soon? It seems so quick, the summer season winding down. In October I will travel to Lake Elsinore in California for one last flurry of skydiving for the season, and then I'll decide whether or not I will continue the activity in 2014. You know I probably will, but I'm reaching the time when I need to carefully consider whether it makes sense. (from 2013)

And yes, it did make sense then to continue. I gradually spent less and less time with my "knees in the breeze," but the enjoyment, the feeling of being in freefall will always be with me. I have to consider how much I've enjoyed spending some time on Memory Lane, although I realize how incredibly fortunate I am to continue to have such a full life as a senior. Although I do have my share of aches and pains, I also have so much to be thankful for, and I just reached over to place a hand on my dear partner's shoulder as he sleeps next to me. He stirred a little but then fell back to sleep.

In five years, I'll be eighty-five and wonder how much will have changed in my life by that time. I will continue to write these Sunday morning posts for as long as I can, and the chronicle will continue until something changes to make it impossible. Until then, I will keep on appreciating the fabric of my life, of my days spent being grateful for all that the universe has provided me. Life is change, so who knows what lies ahead? My wonderful virtual family, of which you are a part, will still be there, and I'll continue to celebrate the joys and sorrows of life and living with you.

Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things and that you will find your own joy in the days ahead. See you then!