Now that I’ve landed just outside of San Francisco my friends have been asking me often if I’m digging it here, more specifically if I’m digging the city. This isn’t an easy question to answer considering the long journey in which my daughter and I have taken in order to get here and why we did so. Of course it’s an amazing place. I know it sounds glamorous to up and move to a big city … but no, it’s not always so. And when I’m asked if I like California better than Colorado I can’t say either way because those are two completely different places. It would be like comparing expensive apples to really expensive oranges. I have yet to figure out how to do that. I can say for sure It’s not always sunshine and butterflies however, there is sunshine and there are butterflies….lots of butterflies.

So why did we move here in the first place? Well that’s a semi-long and somewhat simple answer, which goes like this:

Just over a year ago my daughter and I donated almost all of our belongings, packed what remained into a moving truck and started on a journey that would lead us to a fork in the road in which our paths would split and then eventually circle back together again in a new place far from the home in which I knew for almost 20 years and for her well, her entire life.

Were we scared? I highly doubt she was scared at all but I was (secretly), in fact I remember crying as my car first approached the northbound freeway that would ultimately take us to a place further west and just shy of the Canadian boarder. I cried on and off in the car (good thing my daughter was in the moving truck with her dad who was helping us) until I could no longer see Colorado in my rearview mirror (okay I cried periodically through the state of Wyoming as well). But I finally said to myself it was time to embrace this new adventure and cry no more. After all I was excited about it all, I planned it, we planned it…it was part of our plan. My daughter was accepted into a high school (in CA) in which she decided she wanted to board and I decided to take advantage of the “uproot” to attend a summer intensive photography course in Missoula before I would finally land in California right behind her. This was a two-part journey and our decided upon plan.

Our plan was in motion.

So on that day barely a year ago we both left Colorado for California via Montana.

Tears aside (and to be clear, I was the only one who had tears to put aside) we spent an adventurous and activity jam-packed summer together in Missoula. I attended school and lugged heavy camera equipment around on my back chasing classes and photo shoots and turning in assignments while she caught up on sleep, played her guitars, hung out at the music store, rode buses just to see where they would go and her bike up and down every single street that comprised the city and when schedules allowed we spent time together meeting new friends, climbing the “M”, riding our bikes, diving into community events, going to rodeos and ghost towns (at night), uncovering hidden gems in the form of experiences while finding much to laugh about and of course we ate ice cream on a regular basis at the famous Big Dipper.

It was a summer we’ll never forget. And then August came along. The dreaded month-of-the-fork as I put it. August came along and she left for high school while I stayed behind to finish my classes.

I cried more.

I cried when we left Colorado and I cried when she left Missoula. I cried a lot more when she left Missoula though. We reached the fork in the road in which our journeys took two different paths. It was the fork I dreaded more than anything. So she moved on and I stayed behind…and cried while I finished my classes. And when all my classes were completed I too moved further out west to California.

Were we scared? I highly doubt she was scared at all. I might have been a little bit. However, I was adapting more to our plan and wasn’t nearly as scared as when we first pulled out of Colorado. It was more of a “oh boy here we go again, but I got this”. And now here we are, both living in California.

She lives near the ocean.

As for Rainey, her life for now is nicely packaged within a quaint (and beautiful) college prep campus in Monterey that includes a zen garden, performing arts center, various music studios and an Alice Waters garden. Her nicely package life expands a few miles outside of said campus in a radius that provides access to all the touristy places teenage girls like to loiter about at such as; small cafes, coffee houses, clothing, trinket and beauty supply stores. Outside of the crazy daily class, study and sports schedule she is balancing I think she’s settled in quite nicely.

I’m in the city.

My life for now is nicely packaged within a quaint (and beautiful) city just north of the Golden Gate Bridge that includes a ferry, a couple restaurants, a couple wine stores, One 7-11 disguised as a local organic convenience store, one legitimate local organic convenience store, some touristy stores, access to amazing hiking and an amazing view of the bay. Adventures abound via ferry connections, bridge crossings and the 101.

My fear has morphed into feelings of being overwhelmed while at the same time excitement because let’s face it San Francisco is a big city. Yes it looks shiny and glamorous on the outside. It twinkles from a distance and I swear even the over-stuffed-graffiti-camo dumpsters shimmer. While I’m overwhelmed with it all I’m just not scared any more.

So am I digging living here? I’m digging it for sure but at the same time I’m still processing my feelings about uprooting from Colorado, a place I love so very much (I am a mountain kind of girl) and our summer adventure. Everything happened so fast, the days were long and sometimes hard (in school) and I was mentally trying to prepare myself for my daughter leaving. It was a whirlwind of activity, a convergence of emotions and life transitions wrapped up in a time that my daughter now reflects upon and recites as her “what I did over summer vacation” story she tells all of her friends.

I’m digging it for sure but most times I have no idea how to get where I want to go. I swear there is a secret underground society of bay area commuters but that’s another blog post altogether (and trust me one is imminent). Not only am I constantly lost geographically I’m constantly trying to figure out the mass transit systems that connect the bay area dots. At the very least it’s baptism by fire at its kindest moments. On the flip side I’m always discovering new places…*sunshine*.

I’ve never relied so much on my navigation device and old-fashioned paper city maps as I have these past three months. I’m often lost but I’m slowly tipping that scale and starting to find my way without consulting a map or taking barking orders from a device that begrudgingly does a lot of “recalculating” *butterflies*

I miss the mountains. I miss them terribly. I miss the quaking leaves of the aspens, the rushing rivers and small water falls that trickle down the side of the mountain as I drove west, glaciers in the summer, crossing paths with a moose or two, buzzing humming birds at 10k feet and how the wind sounds as it travels through the conifers. At the same time I love the fact that I can now get into my car a drive to the ocean quickly *sunshine*. And there’s something magical about how the fog quietly rolls in the bay area as if it’s sneaking up on you and then softly blankets the hills of Marin. Before you know it it’s lingering everywhere, hanging out as it ponders what to do or where to go next before it quietly slips away.  All the while the foghorns in the distant are dutifully working letting you know that it’s business as usual in the bay. The fog here is mystic, silly and playful while the foghorns are serious yet comforting *butterflies*.

So am I digging living here? I’m digging it for sure but I miss my friends. Let’s face it, when you live in on place for almost 20 years you have a solid family-like community of friends that runs deep…friends that have walked with you through many phases of your life (especially if you have children) and now I’m in a place in which I don’t know anyone. It’s a very big city and I don’t know anyone. I’m 50 and starting out at ground zero, this isn’t easy. At the same time I’m in a big city, what a great place to meet people and make new friends *sunshine*. And I am. I’m meeting new people almost every day. That’s not to say that every interaction I have with a new person fosters a meaningful friendship however I can honestly say that out of the new people I’ve met thus far there are a few that are becoming consistent partners-in-crime, budding genuine friendships, the kind that last no matter where you live *butterflies*.

So am I digging living here? I’m digging it for sure but I still don’t know where all the hot spots are. Whether it’s happy hour, late night, morning or mid-day (urban or nature) I don’t know where the “go to” or “hot spots” are.   I don’t know where the hiking trails, best happy hour gathering posts, restaurants and general hang out places are. On the flip side I’m presented with a great opportunity to vacate a routine in which I was caught in for almost 20 years to discover a overabundance of new places to visit and things to do *sunshine*. One should always take advantage of broadening their horizons and nothing offers that better than moving to a big city. And so here I am doing just that. I will discover and grow…it will take some time but I will *butterflies*.

As far as Rainey, she’s thriving at her new school and with all that dorm life presents. I’m thriving as well. I’m getting adjusted to my new surroundings, our new life and this part of the journey where the future from this point on isn’t really defined. It’s an open book with applied intentions but open for certain, one that still has many unwritten chapters left to write and short stories to compile within.

Am I digging it here?

*Yes I am digging it here*

And while I may be in California now, I’m still,

The Urban Mountaineer