Granola

I have a vivd memory, etched into my mind from many years ago, of one of my many trips to Yosemite.
I was in Tuolumne Meadows, sitting in front of the lodge on a wooden bench, when a red Subaru station wagon pulled up directly in front of me. Johnny Cash was blaring out of its rolled-down windows. This car had seen better days. It was dented, rusted, and dusty, and it probably hadn't experienced the effects of soap and water in months.  "Big Bear," "Redwoods National Park," and "Crater Lake" were just a few of the places this little car had visited if one was to judge by the stickers lovingly placed across its worn out bumper.
But even better than this well-loved car was the inhabitants that it carried.
My eyes were torn from their study of the car's grill, crusted with the corpses of thousands of bugs, when the car's doors opened, and two of the most beautiful creatures I had even seen, ambled out.
Two Granolas (As my dad likes to call the ladies who dig the outdoors).
Mountain women.
Backpackers.
Whatever you want to call them.
They were makeup-free, and hair product-less, with hiking boots on their feet and bandannas looped around their pig tails. They had probably been on the trail for over a week, and hadn't showered for all of that time. Their clothes were covered in dirt, their hair was in knots, and their noses were peeling from the sun. But I could see contentment on their faces.
And I wanted to be just. like. them.
My love for all things outdoorsy was solidified at that moment, and I knew...
I wanted to be a granola.
Problem was... I REALLY like showers. And makeup. And razors. And deodorant.
Dang it.
So I gave up on my dream.
Then...I started getting into hiking a few months ago. And I even decided that I'm going to hike Half Dome this summer.
And then I went to REI a couple of weeks ago to buy my hiking boots. And the person helping me? Another honest-to-goodness Granola. And my dream was re-born.
I told my husband as we were leaving, "that's it...I'm chopping my hair off and throwing away my makeup. I want to be just. like. her."
To which my husband laughed and replied, "yeah right," and, "please don't."
But then I got to thinking. Why do I have to give up the things I love (you know, the girly stuff) to be outdoorsy??
So I decided, I'm going to become a "glamorous granola."
Why not mix the best of both worlds??
I cen wear hiking boot.
But mine will be purple.
I don't have to go makup-less
I can wear mascara and lipgloss (and maybe some eyeliner. And some blush. I can't live without blush).
I don't have to wear dirty, stinky clothes
I can be clean and color coordinated (there's nothing wrong with matching my bandanna, to my shirt, to my shoes).
My husband is not a fan of this plan. He thinks I'm nuts. I think I'm a genius.
I'm going to be the best dressed hiker in Yosemite this summer.
He'll see.
Untill then...happy hiking!