“Stop poking me.”

She doesn’t stop.

Circling me as I sit at my desk, she squeezes her body between my legs and the side of the desk and pokes me again. Apparently, the morning walk around our neighborhood wasn’t enough. She wants more. Youth in a dog is a precious, annoying thing. 

I look out the window and check the weather app, cloudy and 82, perfect for a short hike. I know just the one. Once the webinar is over, we suit up and head out.

The trailhead is tucked into the far south corner of an age-restricted housing development. I learned of this unlikely location many years ago when working as an engineer and had access to the city’s master trail plan. I’ve hiked it hundreds of times, with dogs who have now passed. The trail itself has changed little, the view from it has changed more than I’d like to share. 

As we get out of the car, I’m careful to follow all of the rules. There’s an elderly gentleman and his small, fluffy white dog sitting on the bench, waiting to greet us. We exchange hellos before me and the big, excited four year old dog start up the wide man-made trail. It’s a quick, steep climb to the top that not too many of the residents try to accomplish. Minutes into the climb the wispy clouds part and warm sunlight covers me. I’m immediately irritated at myself for not applying sunscreen to my face, which has seen far too much sun over the years already, so I adjust my ball cap in an attempt to shield my face. We continue the uphill climb, me adjusting the side of my gangsta-style cap with each switch-back, Indigo sniffing, sniffing, sniffing and then sprinting to catch up to me only to get caught up sniffing some more – this repeats. The crunch of the gravel under my boots begins to soothe me. I notice that the sound is different when I step on the sand versus the gravel and find some dorky, engineer-like amusement in this. 

As hikers do, we come across a group descending the hill, one man, two women and two small dogs. Being a considerate hiker and also cognizant of my lack of a face mask, I leash up Indigo and we hop over a few large rocks off trail, providing the group a few feet to pass. The man is wide-eyed now and comments ‘easy for you guys to do that’. They are clearly residents of the elderly community that we now peer upon. I smile and exchange some greetings, commenting on how cute their dogs are, what a lovely day it is – killing time as one woman carefully takes baby-steps on the loose gravel underfoot. We bid adieu and our groups continue in opposite directions. 

It takes Indigo and I another ten minutes to reach the top where there’s a stunning view of the Las Vegas Valley. Turning my back to the valley, there’s a less stunning view of a raped hillside and interrupted ridge, still under construction. Multi-million dollar homesites have been underway here for over a decade. I’ve witnessed it all from the trail. It brings tears to my eyes and relief to my heart that I’m no longer a part of the homebuilding community. I left the engineering life a long time ago to work for a regional homebuilder for a few years before changing careers entirely. I turn back to the valley, take a deep breath and begin the descent, constantly needing to call the dog who knows that the way back means we are almost finished with this fun. 

Our steady pace gets us to the bottom quickly. A few switchbacks before the parking area we happen upon the same group we met near the top. The slowest in the bunch apologizes to me as she stops to pick up the poop that her little pet decided to let go of right in the middle of the trail. I assure her we are in no rush and watch her uncomfortable squat, bag in one hand, walking stick in the other. My smile is as much internal as external, patience with our aging bodies is what we all need to embrace. At 47 years old, I don’t feel particularly young. There’s plenty of days when I feel the years more than seem reasonable. 

We all arrive at the trailhead together. As I open the car door to settle my almost 50-year old body into the seat, the man in the group addresses me again, “You two are fast!” He exclaims. “Nice to be young, isn’t it”.