Badasses Don't Carry Umbrellas... (Up Mt. Woodson)

[This entry was written in my journal, mid-class. The dates are now far from correct, but I am leaving the entry as it was originally written]

Jen and I are San Diego born and bred. I'm sure that when we travel we carry a scent, something that identifies us as belonging to this border city. When it rains for more than an hour, we get cabin fever. When it snows.... well, that doesn't happen often so it isn't worth exploring. Or, is it?

Winter came to town two weekends ago, and we panicked. Then, the weather forecasters predicted snow down to 1000 feet. We cheered. 1000 feet meant Cowles Mountain or Mt. Woodson could see snow flurries. My sister and I spent a while planning how we could trick mother nature and be on top of one of these peaks when this mythical snowfall happened. After a few ideas (anyone up for a midnight hike?) we gave up on that effort and went to sleep.

The next morning arrived, and with it came a rain fueled lake in my backyard. My sister's brilliance dawned with the slow-moving Saturday morning sun when she suggested we brave the elements (yes, a rainstorm counts as the elements when you are a San Diego native) and hike Mt. Woodson in the rain. Well, Mt. Woodson is paved. I'll give her that. I promptly called her an idiot, to which she retorted, "not idiots, badasses!" Notice, I insult her, she assumes I'm still coming along for the ride. Point taken dear sister, I'll hike that beast as long as we follow a few key rules:
1. Dress Appropriately
2. Don't Hug the Poles on Top of the Mountain (Lightening and the possibility of electrocution terrify me)
3. Don't climb on the Potato Chip/Leaf Rock in the Middle of 40 MPH Winds

Always a firm believer in writing things down to make sure I adhere to them, we jotted these rules down (permanent marker on plastic so they would survive the storm) and took off.

RULE 1: DRESS APPROPRIATELY

CHECK OUT THOSE SKI PANTS!

Immediately, Jen broke the first rule. She wore skiing pants. Notice the simple syntax of that sentence? In the middle of a blog full of overused commas splices and abundant modifiers, simple syntax draws attention to the statement itself. Notice how ludicrous that statement is? Jen wore skiing pants to hike up Mt. Woodson. In Ramona. Really, Jen? After mercilessly mocking her fashion choices, I promised to deem her "Queen of the Mountain" if those pants became appropriate.

Then, we saw these people. They were also breaking rule #1. Badasses most definitely do not carry umbrellas up Mt. Woodson. Badasses dance in the rain. Or, they wear ski pants. But umbrellas? No way!

I, however, was dressed appropriately. Once a Girl Scout, always prepared! I was dressed in layers. After a couple of minutes, the layers came off and the sun came out. We followed the paved road, meandering up and around the mountain. As we neared the top, we stumbled into mist. The mist soon gave way to rain, and our sweaters went back on.

A few minutes later, I watched a piece of hail bounce off my hand. Jen shrieked in pain as an angry hail ball attempted to impale her. I have this theory: San Diego rain is friendly. It might flood our streets and claim our cars on occasion, but the generally gentle plop of globes of water just makes me happy. Snow is the same way. Fluttering flurries drift downward. Drift is a gentle word. Fluttering makes me think of dancing. Snow, like rain, is friendly. Hail, on the other hand, is full of mal intent. It calculates its trajectory and aims to inflict the most harm possible. If its first victim is not damaged, it recalculates its trajectory until it finds an easy target. Jen was the easy target that day.

RULE #2: DO NOT HUG THE POLES ON TOP OF THE MOUNTAIN

My sister, ever the clever one, felt as if a hail storm was the perfect time to break the second rule. A couple of minutes after she made me worry about electrocution, our luck changed and the snow joined us. Fifteen minutes ago I was wearing a tank top. Now, I was layering on jackets to keep out the snow, yes, the snow. In RAMONA! We danced, we swore, and we broke our last rule...

RULE #3: DO NOT CLIMB ON THE POTATO CHIP/LEAF ROCK IN THE MIDDLE OF 40 MPH WINDS

Isn't that rock awesome? I may have cried before I climbed onto it, but eventually I made it there. Oh, and I had to call Jen "Queen of the Mountain" because those darned ski pants came in handy.

Wait, did you all process the fact that it snowed on us at the top of Mt. Woodson? Fifteen minutes after I was wearing a tanktop? That, my friends, is a once in a lifetime event.

JEN DANCING IN THE SNOW

Oh, and on the way back down we encountered more umbrellas. Their carriers mocked our bedraggled, damp clothes, saying "wouldn't an umbrella be handy?" We responded in unison: "Basasses don't carry umbrellas!"