Garden of the Gods or Satan's Cleavage - Whichever You'd Prefer

It's been established that, although the great outdoors should be preserved, I don't actually *enjoy* being outdoors. Especially during the summer. Bugs, fear of sweat, sun, heat, and assorted animals all conspire to keep me indoors.

However, once in a while, I forget who I am. This immediately calls into question my ability to a) parent effectively and b) make decisions without medication.

Like yesterday, for example.

I took my children to Garden of the Gods for a picnic lunch. Youngest has been asking (read: bugging) me to go hiking since we arrived in The Springs so I noticed different trails around our picnic area and thought,

"We can do this."

Big mistake.

Armed with floppy hat, water bottles and cell phone - I led my children into unpaved and overrated territory. About a half-hour in, signs warned of bear sightings. Took a deep breath and marched on, secure that such bravery would be rewarded. Maybe with toned thighs or something.

That's when I stepped in horsesh*t.

Apparently, several tour groups sightsee on horseback and the delightful creatures are allowed to sh*t and piss wherever they choose. This adds a certain "smell element" to the nature-loving experience, especially in ninety-nine degree weather.

After about an hour of avoiding bears and bowel movements (who has time to admire rocks?) we ended up at a house that hadn't been occupied in centuries.

The trails stopped at the house's front door. My boys sat down to rest for a moment and let mommy think. As I tried to forget every "mom-gang-raped-in-the-forest" movie I'd ever seen, birds stopped chirping. Folks, silence is unnerving. Then we heard thunder in the distance.

Of course.

We decided to retrace our steps and hopefully end up back at the car.

Another hour passed and my children started to complain. Water bottles were empty. Wild berries tasted like wax. It had begun to rain. So I used my remaining sense and cell phone battery to call for help and/or say my goodbyes. Just in case the surrounding deer decided to take a bite.

More than a few people laughed. Becky offered to come find us. Husband flipped. Cause he knew he'd be blamed for dragging us to Colorado in the first place. I assured everyone that we'd be fine but just in case please get Minnie Driver to play me in the Movie of the Week.

After a few more minutes of near panic at the sight of snakes, my cell phone rang.

"I'm in hell," I said.

"Where abouts?" the voice asked.

"Excuse me?" I said.

"Where are the mountains? That'll tell you if you're headed north or south."

"Who is this?"

(slight pause)

"This is someone who has bad taste in t-shirts, but an excellent sense of direction. Probably because I'm a hunter."

"Great," I said. "Just what I need."

Almost hung up but remembered the snakes, Minnie Driver, deer, and impending doom.

"I'm walking down the mountain," I said.

Annoyance is an excellent motivating factor. And Aaron proceeded to annoy me just enough that I was able to find my way out of the woods and back to my car. All the while, forced to listen to valuable advice like,

"Lots of bears in that area, Katie. They love vegetarians."

Called everyone once safely inside our (air-conditioned) vehicle. More than a few suggested investing in a *personal* GPS. They have a point. But really no need. Hiking is dead to me.