Boise has a lofty pinnacle called Tablerock. This hilltop is high above the city, a perfect plateau, and adorned with a very large cross which can be seen from all over town. Tablerock is a popular destination for local hikers, including myself. I always feel as though I have done something worth bragging about when I climb it. The round trip hike is three miles, but the accent is dramatic. There are always those overachievers who run on this hike, but I can't imagine that is healthy. I can't imagine how it's possible. Yesterday, I had the distinct pleasure of hiking with my little sister, Dani.
Dani is in her 20s, which we won't hold against her. She is a distance runner who laughs in the face of elevation, which we will. She has a brilliant mind, a Geology degree in-the-works, three small children, and several chickens. She also has a quirky mind (perhaps a family trait) which I find vastly amusing. She was describing to me the effort involved in training one's laying hens. Apparently this feat involves a secure nesting area and golf balls. This, I suspect, would be terribly surprising to an uninitiated chicken. After seeing the collection of golf balls nestled in the coop, a chicken is supposed to run to this location upon the urge to expel an egg. Would said chicken then produce in the erroneous expectation of sporting equipment? Do hens thus trained boast to their peers? How do they make the connection between the sudden urge to push and the white dimpled balls? Perhaps I have given this rather too much thought.
So we were hiking.
The parking lot which serves this feat of athletic prowess is shared with the Old Penitentiary. This is an historical landmark, and quite an interesting tour. The prison, not the parking lot. Beginning at this fortress, and ascending to the cross is quite Bunyan-esque. Although the hike is certainly likely to aggravate one's feet, that is not what I mean. I am referring to John Bunyan, the esteemed author of Pilgrim's Progress who used a lengthy trek to analogize the Christian life. Beginning at a place of confinement and misery, then climbing to the heights, there to rest beneath the cross....isn't it lovely?
The top of Tablerock affords a stunning view of the entire Treasure Valley. There is a bench for contemplation. It's really worth the work to get there.
Dani didn't much work to get there. Honestly, she barely broke a sweat. I was breathing like a grampus, and resting every 100 feet. She must have wondered what had possessed her to chose an aging Darth Vader as a hiking companion. In fact, once we got back down to the parking lot, I had but a moment to revel in self-gratification over my physical accomplishment before she announced her intention to go for a run. At this point my legs were positively quaking from the exertion. She ingested the tiniest of granola bars to fuel her skinny self, and sprang into exercise mode to run 6 miles through the brutal terrain. I dragged my tired bones home to lay around for the rest of the day.
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