Spring fever is in full swing with the temps soaring into the 50s the past few days. Even with a bit of wind yesterday it was sweatshirt weather, so we took advantage and went for a hike. There are sizeable hills behind the golf course, all within walking distance from where we live. I've been itching to get the kids up in those hills for months, and we finally had our chance to get out and breathe the fresh Cody air.
As we hiked, memories began to saturate my senses, as I spent much of my childhood with siblings and friends up in those hills. The colors of rocks, the sparse trees, the smell of sagebrush, the prickly cactus, the sight of the town, and miles and miles of beautiful land, had barely changed in twenty-five years.
Other than the few dirt bikers riding way down on the other side of the hill (where they have been riding for decades), we had the hills to ourselves. I reminded the kids that back in Colorado in order to go for a good hike we had to drive half an hour, then hike with a hundred other other people. The peacefulness and serenity of the Wyoming outdoors was intoxicating, and we were excited that the hills would be at our beck and call for months to come.