Fall Break

We had fall break last week. I haven’t even had a spring break for about seven years, so I hardly knew what to do with myself. It’s technically called “Fall Study Days,” and some students actually use it for this purpose. Others take advantage of what is essentially a four day weekend in order to relax, quite possibly away from Ann Arbor, whether it be in Detroit or Germany. Most, I think, walk the middle ground and spend some time catching up on schoolwork, but not as much time as they would normally spend on a weekday.

I contemplated leaving town for the weekend. I was invited to go to Pittsburgh, and also considered (at one time or another) visiting the Upper Peninsula, driving to Chicago to see a freshman year friend, or flying back to Provo to pay visits to friends, family, mountains, and favorite running routes. But in the end travel expenses, time constraints, and other obligations got in the way of any elaborate plans and I ended up staying in Ann Arbor, which was not necessarily a bad thing. I was invited to dinner on Friday, went on an amazing long run on Saturday, helped out at a charity event in the evening, spent lots of time talking on the phone with my family on Sunday, went to a pot luck with other grad students on Monday, finally made it to the Detroit temple on Tuesday, and put in a little school time in between.

Nevertheless, by Tuesday morning I still felt like my fall break had been insufficiently relaxing. Realizing how little free time I had coming to me in the next few weeks, I decided I’d probably regret it if I didn’t take the opportunity to get out and enjoy a Midwest autumn. So on a whim, I googled up a lake-studded state recreation area half an hour from my apartment, equipped myself with a camera and a water bottle, drove the half hour, located a five mile trail with the help of the park attendant, and went hiking.

I almost always associate hiking with mountains. In fact, the first time anyone ever said anything to me about hiking in Michigan, I was momentarily confused that such a thing could exist. And certainly hiking in southeast Michigan is very different from hiking in Utah or California or the Rocky Mountains or the Oregon coast. The first difference, I quickly realized, was that there is essentially no climate difference between Ann Arbor and its nearby wilderness areas. At this time of year my western-bred instincts told me that if I was going to visit the wild, I ought to expect colder temperatures, unpredictable weather, and more vivid seasonal colors. But when there is no elevation change between here and there, there is also no reason to assume that any of these things ought to be true. My jacket was unneeded, the weather stayed pleasantly constant, and the leaves were just as disappointingly green as they were in Ann Arbor, the colors still just hinting at the vibrant outburst that is, as I write this, finally beginning.

Furthermore, in my past hiking experience trails actually go somewhere. I’m used to hiking to a summit—Half Dome, Mount Timpanogos, Old Rag, Angel’s Landing. Here the trails were nothing more than wide loops through the wilderness and the only real destination was the end (which was, of course, exactly where I began).

Still, it was a nice hike. The weather was beautiful, the trial quiet, the sky blue. I love mountains and I’m afraid the landscape here will never quite compare, but it does have its own form of beauty. And just being outdoors made me happy.