Add Some Strawberry, And It Was All Worth It

My calves are on fire today, and no amount of crying or pouting seems to heal them.  Yesterday, Collin, myself, Watson, our friend Darren, and his dog Kajul decided to take advantage of the beautiful weather and take a relaxing walk in Chabot Park.  If you've never been, and you find yourself in Oakland, craving a little bit of nature, I'd recommend it.  I'd also recommend you stay the hell off of the Goldenrod Trail.  Or, grab yourself a trail map, like any thinking person might.  Another bit of advice might be: if you're the only one not getting high, perhaps you should take the lead.

Not to break into gender stereotypes here, but really what IS the problem with men asking for directions?  Why can't they do it?  They would rather be lost in the woods than ask any of the other people we happen across for some pointers on how to get back to our car.  So, it was left to me, and this is what we were told by the nice joggers, "just follow this path until there's a fork, and then just keep going right, and it'll take you back."  Here's what the men heard.  "Follow this path, then take your first right, and then MAKE SURE YOU STICK TO THIS PATH, and ignore all other paths to the right!"

So we did.  There were some delightful looking trails on the right, heading downhill into the inviting shade, one even following a stream that I'm sure the dogs would have been more than happy to frolic in.  I, too, would have been happy to stomp about in the water, being the only person that brought any sort of drinking water, and now forced to share it between three people.  But I digress.  We stuck with Goldenrod, continuing to climb up, and actively avoiding all shade.  My farmer's tan can attest to this.
After three hours of this death march, slave-driver Collin starts shouting we're almost there!  The car should be around the next bend!  And Darren starts mentioning that you can tell we've come full circle, because the land is beginning to look like it did at the beginning of the walk.  Apparently, Darren can spot the difference between Eucalyptus trees.
There is a pit in my stomach, but I lead the charge to the final trail marker, nearly collapsing when the marker reads simply, "End."
The men take out their I-Phones and desperately begin trying to hone in on the car, which is apparently still somewhere around the bend.  Behind those nice people's homes.  Just past that barking dog.  Like the electronic bastards they are, the phones inform us that yes, we SHOULD have gone right at every turn, because what we've done instead is walk the length of the park.  The car is just beyond another hundred bends;  we're only halfway there.
Watson and I share a look that can only be interpreted as, "I hate this."  Kajul begins to look at the grass longingly, and it isn't much further into our trek back when she begins to collapse in it and look at Darren in an obvious attempt to express to him, "Go on without me."
Even Watson, 1 year old athletic never-tiring Watson, looked at us, and laid down in the path. Around this time, I diplomatically told Collin, "I hate this, and you."

By the time we DID round that last bend and find the car, every one of us was aching and speaking dreamily of cold beer and margaritas.  The dogs became puddles in the back seat, the windows were rolled down as far as possible, and we headed to the nearest Taqueria.
By the time I had my margarita in hand, and we were sharing chips and guacamole, we were all friends again.  Next time, I'll be sure to have a map in hand.