Chemis-Tree.

So my new friend Marissa, this super cool artistic gal from New Jersey, invited me yesterday to hike Mount Tam.

Mount what?

Mount Tamalpais, located in the lovely and luscious Marin County, standz 2,571 feet tall above the coastal range and is a peak in Marin Hills that not many East Bay residents know about.

Well, they may know about it, but apparently, they've never been. 

Which is something I should be surprised about, but I'm finding that with any local in their native land, there's places and things that they haven't yet experienced.

I'm guilty of that! I lived in Alaska and I've probably explored only 90% of the state at best. I guess when you live someplace, you take it for granted and put aside places and things you imagine you'll "eventually" get to.

Well, I wasn't about to wait around to hike Mount Tam like the rest of these lazy locals, for each day is an opportunity for adventure. Plus, both of us were desperate for some fresh mountain air.

So we hopped in the Sub and wound our way up the mountain to Pantoll Campground, where we parked the car and started our journey on the Dipsea Trail. 

Something to mention about Mount Tam: it's massive. Not technically in size, but the peak itself is over 6300 acres and has over 60 miles of various trails.

The Dipsea Trail, home to the oldest running race in the United States (1905) is a 7.4 mile trail that winds out of Muir Woods, and through multiple microclimates.

Which is another factor into why it also makes the mountain feel massive. Walking a mere 7 miles takes you through multiple temperatures, due to factors like height, directional faces, and closeness to the Bay.

So when we started, it was 85 degrees, hot and dry, with foggy views over the ocean, then shade once we got thick into the forest, and finally, we ended at the summit where it was hella breezy and cool.

Best part of the trip?

Getting lost.

Marissa apparently thought the Dipsea Trail was a 4 mile loop, which we eventually found not to be true. We ended up at the Muir Woods Visitor Center and after getting the wrong directions from the so called "help" (same guy who eyed me up and down like meat and called me "crazy tight"), we found we were miles away from the Pantoll Campground, at the summit without cell service and desperately turning the map upside down trying to find our way back.

It. Was. Awesome. Granted, at the time we were starving, tired, and in dire need of rescue, but it was all part of the grand adventure. 

Annnnnnnnd we got ourselves out. By the blessing of one bar of cell service, we called an uber, took shelter on the grass overlooking the foggy Bay below and were eventually returned to our car, safe and sound. 

(plus there was the best dinner at Joe's Taco's, where we replenished all our lost weight with burritos and quesadillas and then some)

It felt good to get back together with nature. Not that there isn't nature here in Walnut Creek, but there aren't the abundance of trees that I'm used to, and it's hard to go anywhere here and not run into people. 

Me and Mother Nature are connected (thank you Alaska).

One could say we have chemis-tree...

Un-bear-ably Sweet.

It was definitely a Three Kleenex movie.

Years ago, I did a monologue about the types of movies that involve crying.

There's the Misty Movies, the Tricklers, and then my favorite: the Three Kleenex movies.

In a Three Kleenex movie, all pretense at controlling my tears is abandoned. Whether I'm at a friend's house, in the privacy of my home, or at a movie theatre, these types of movies bring out the waterfall just waiting to burst over the edge of the cliff and all down my face. 

I recently went with a friend to see the newest Christopher Robin film at the theatre and we weren't one minute into the film when tears began their descent down my cheeks. It was only the opening credits and I already knew it was going to be a Three Kleenex type of film.

I grew up with Pooh. 

I had a Pooh bear whom I slept with (and still  do), I had Winnie the Pooh sheets, wall decorations, knick knacks, and there are many fond memories in which my sister and I spent hours in the playroom watching Winnie the Pooh on repeat whilst sitting on our foldout airplane couch. 

So I knew going in that it was going to affect me, hit me in the feels, and bring back nostalgic memories from childhood.

It accomplished that, yes, but it also touched on subjects deeper than classic childhood longing.

It touched on love, family, growing up, and happiness, all the key ingredients to a wonderful life lived. 

Every time Pooh spoke something heartwarmingly simple and wise, I wept with a smile on my face because even though he's just a "silly old bear with very little brains", he knows how to be happy, and that translates into all areas of life. 

Growing up doesn't mean forgetting about the things that bring you the most joy, like playing in the woods with your friends catching a Heffalump, or holding onto a red balloon. It means growing wiser, braver, stronger, and then passing those qualities and values off to your children.

Christopher Robin was a children's movie made for adults. And while there was an exciting "expotition" that was definitely for the benefit of the children who watched, the film to me, touched me in the deeper, more sensitive parts of my heart. 

Thus the Three Kleenex's I had on deck.

It was an un-bear-ably sweet movie and I left remembering this: my life is happening right now and it’s so important to keep in touch with who I am and what makes me most happy. 

Per Pooh’s advice: treat yourself to something sweet (honey, in Pooh's case), live your life with ex-pooh-berant energy, and remember, “people say nothing is impossible, but I do nothing every day..”