I have for a long time. Long. Time. Think: toddler in a diaper playing with trucks in a pile of mud in the back yard. I'm sure my mother was thrilled. As a teen, one of the fondest memories I have of my Grandmother's farm is of a humid fall day after a storm. The fields had been plowed under and were wet and ready to be planted. My cousins, siblings and I had just finished traipsing from one side of the acreage to the other (on safari) and before we reached Gram's house, we paused to have a "mud-hunk" fight. What? A "mud-hunk" fight, you say! Yes, yes, a mud-hunk fight. There is definitely such a creature. And it's fantastical fun! When we finally reached the back porch, we had to hose off. I'm pretty sure mud-hunk fights are the reason mud-rooms were invented.
It's been seasonably cold and wet in Northern California. I'm not a fan of cold. I like wet as long as it's warm. Like rainy days in Puerto Rico: Warm + wet = fine by me. But as much as I normally enjoy California, the cold has got me thinking incessantly about flying south for the winter and staying put. (Think Florida, not So-Cal. I'm SO not a so-cal gal. So flying South East for the winter, really.)
So when the rain dried up a bit on Friday, I was pleased. When the sun deigned to show it's lovely (but altogether too-weak wintery) face on Saturday, I knew that it would be an optimal day for hiking! You see, the hills of California are rather volitile. They're prone to outbursts of lush, green color after rain and golden-browns when it's dry. Underneath all of those dry golden browns lie feet and feet of cracked, dry, parched dirt. Just imagine! The cracks in the dirt sometimes reach downwards in spidery jig-jags measuring feet, not inches. Now add water. Lots of water. Mix. Let dry slightly. What do you have when it's done?
Mud.
LOTS. OF. MUD.

Like I said, perfect hiking conditions! There's something about wandering around in the hills and returning home covered in mud, scratches and bruises that is just so... satisfying! Like you've accomplished something truly wonderful and scratched some primal itch to go out and be one with the earth.

Deer tracks. Horse track.
Me and my backpack and the green, green hill.
This flock of bikers also thought the mud was pretty great. Can you blame them?
So I wandered the hills a while. And by wander, I mean I had no clue where I was going. I headed in a general direction. I explored trails that I hadn't previously taken, which is always a fun thing to do. You never know what you'll find. For instance, on Saturday's hike, I found this:
A realllly old tractor. Would you expect to find that on a hike in the hills? Me neither. I found it when I found this place:
Borges Ranch. It's an old homestead in the hills of Walnut Creek. It's been preserved as a historical site with the surrounding land (which has been turned into hiking trails and recreation areas). Go figure! Who knew it was up there? And inside the little old house was one of these:
How cute is that old stove? And how much would you hate life if you had to use a wood-burning stove everyday (given the modern convenience of gas and electric ranges)???
AND THEN, as if an old tractor, house and stove weren't enough, guess what else I found!! Go ahead. Guess.
Yup. You're right.

Short, fat and adorable (for livestock) Pygmy Goats!
And also one of these normal goats:
AND:
Two very friendly sheep.
And then, feeling very pleased with my hike and satisfied with the day's accomplishments, I started to wander back in the general direction of my jeep and found this cattle guard:
Which was much more intimidating to walk over than to drive over. Truly. I'm prone to twisted ankles and scrapes and bruises, which means that I don't have the surest footing. So what I'm really saying is that while I was walking across the cattle guard and taking that photo, it was a miracle that I didn't slip and die.
Past the cattle guard and back up through the hills and horse-trails I made it back to my Jeep. My boots ended up looking like this:
Which is why I have these:
All-weather floor mats. Couldn't live without them.
But wait! There's more!!
The day was far from done. I mozied home. Showered. Put on clean clothes. Finished Christmas shopping and then joined a large group of friends for an evening of:
One happy mud hiking, historical-site-finding, goat petting, ice skating girl.
Days like this are why I wander.
Oh, and just for good measure, the funniest footprint of the day:
You probably think it's my bare-footprint, after all, I would practically bathe in mud (actually I have had a mud bath), but it's not. I found it up on the ridge of a hill in all of it's stark and shocking glory.















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