Money Grows On Trees

Laetiporus sulphureus found near the Outdoor Campus

This week I whined to my husband, "Being outdoors is costing me money. Staying indoors was a cheaper way of life!" My long-suffering husband simply smiled and wisely let the moment pass.

My new relationship with the outdoors continues to fascinate me but I am also discovering its soft underbelly and that is, money. Hiking shoes, hiking sandals, sturdy socks, winter boots, long underwear and warm gloves are just a few of the upgrades I have had to make in the last couple of years. This week was particularly costly due to a couple of events.

Event Number One: While birding on a favorite hiking trail I felt a prick on the side of my foot. My attempt to ignore it failed so I had to put my binoculars down and look at my foot. The amount of blood oozing out of the side of my hiking sandal was an indication that I needed to tend to the wound. The owie was a puncture into my skin so I flushed it out and slapped on a band-aid to mitigate the problem. Later that evening my Nervous Nellie kicked into high gear when I realized I was overdue for a tetanus booster. Through the night I felt my jaw tighten up and I was sure I had no choice but go to a nearby emergency room. It was a holiday weekend and we all know tetanus does not take vacations. The nice folks at the emergency room took very good care of me and I am sure they added hypochondriac to my chart as they gave me my tetanus booster. Good gracious, I never worried about tetanus when I stayed indoors.

Event Number Two: While walking with my sister, I made a fancy lateral move off a curb to avoid getting a bath from a lawn sprinkler. Unbeknownst to me, the pavement by the curb was a crumbly mess and my ankle rolled, I heard a pop and went down like a sack of potatoes. My sweet sister extracted my carcass from the gutter and helped me hobble back to my car. My pride did not allow me to go to urgent care again so I followed the usual protocol: rest, ice, compress, elevate.

By day two it was feeling somewhat better with the help of Vitamin I (ibuprofen). I was determined to join my bird club friends for a field trip so I showed up like a limping flamingo. One of the members graciously offered me a trekking pole which gave me the extra stability I needed. It was perfect but it also meant one thing, time to invest in trekking poles. More ka-ching, ka-ching but it was what I needed to be able to meet up with my mushroom club friends the following day. Yes, there is such a thing as a mycology club for those of us who feel strangely attracted to the Kingdom of Fungi. I recently ordered two mushroom field guides so there goes more moolah out of my pocket.

I suspect I will always be a stranger in the outdoors. I feel safer and more comfortable near couches, kitchens and readily accessible bathrooms. Through it all, costs included, I plan on riding this train until it holds no further fascination. The couch and kitchen are not far away.

I leave you now with a fungi club mantra: All wild mushrooms are edible, once.

Happy Trails!