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My adventure, by most standards, started out pretty mellow.
On Sunday I shook out my mane of hair and, instead of pulling it up tight into a bun, I kept it down and called to make a last minute appointment for a haircut at a nearby salon. I drank my morning coffee looking out the open window of my third story condo. The weather was perfect. The sun was shining, but the puffy white clouds occasionally dimmed its light keeping the early summer day from getting overly hot.
That afternoon, still sporting my weekend sweat pants and big t-shirt, I decided to walk to the salon instead of driving or calling a cab. After all, when was the last time I had walked through my neighborhood or strolled through the parks near my house?
I couldn’t help but notice the more wild areas that existed arou
