postcard 28: a dispatch from the editor in chief
new hikes and new titles
“This is going to suck on the way back,” one of us muses as we climb down, down, down the hillside.
It’s a classic Mikaela Type II fun mission, but I’ve covered my bases this time. Everyone was sent the All Trails description and had the chance to peruse the 1,000 foot descent (and subsequent ascent) in just over a mile. Well, everyone that is besides Finnegan. Our fellow digital nomad friends’ 11-year-old Vizsla is a little grey around the muzzle and tries to avoid Hazelnut’s frenetic splashing every time we get to a swimming hole in the creek that’s running alongside the trail. Luckily she still can’t swim so he wades out just far enough from the bank to lose her and stands there soaking his old bones.
The trail feels like something out of the Secret Garden with vine-covered gates, lanes awash in wildflowers and hidden pools filled with turquoise water that spill into waterfalls. We hit a muddy patch and two of us nearly go down, catching ourselves on the branches reaching out into the trail. We all wince as Maddie catches the wrist she broke skiing in January. As we hike we talk about the hyper-niche things that feel like we’re the only four people in the world who would understand. The ins and outs of the visa process three of us are still in the middle of, which konobas to try, which rocks to jump off of into the sea and the best brand of granola bars. The other people we pass on the trail are all holding thick bunches of wild asparagus and though we poke at every patch of bushes we see, we have no idea where it’s coming from.
Finally we hit flat ground and wander into a small village on the sea. The town we’ve come from is just visible on top of the hill. We throw sticks into the waves for Finnegan and stop for a cappuccino at a cafe.
On the way back a yellow dog comes running out of the forest. He’s wearing a harness, but there’s no people in sight. He’s young and playful and we take Hazelnut off her leash so they can wrestle to her heart’s content. They chase each other back and forth across the river for half an hour before we drag her away and he runs back off into the woods again, a random and perfect friend.
I’m surprised to find that the hike back up doesn’t suck as much as we thought it might. It’s amazing how easy doing everything at sea level is. Finnegan’s legs start to quiver and Lukas carries him for awhile. We cheer loudly as he climbs the last few steps to the street.
On a whim we’d made a reservation at a pizza place we passed on the walk to the trailhead, a recommendation from Maddie’s physical therapist. We wait for our table on the terrace which would have sweeping views of the valley we’ve just hiked through to the sea on a clear day, but it’s threatening rain, the view obscured by dust or mist or both. We tuck the dogs back in the cars and squeeze into the bustling pizzeria. By the time we’ve sat down we’ve already decided what to order based on the other tables we’ve been spying on. Cheese fries get added on a whim.
My pizza is topped with an entire ball of burrata. Topher’s is covered in spicy peppers. Maddie’s has truffles and prosciutto. It’s divine and we all agree, the best pizza we’ve had so far in Istria.
One of the produce vendors at the market recognizes me now and I buy potatoes from her, even though they’re soft. I fill Topher’s backpack with unplanned ramps and laugh with the lettuce vendor when I misunderstand and try to hand her $15 for 0.50 worth of spinach. There is finally, finally dill.
Six years ago this week I started working at National Park Trips as a sales coordinator. In 2022 I took over the content side of things but now I can finally say something I’ve dreamed of since I was a kid: I’m the Editor in Chief. I’m still planning, editing and writing national park content for four yearly magazines and eight websites, that hasn’t changed, but I finally have the title to match what I’m doing and a salary that makes me feel less underappreciated, which helps.
I hope spring is starting to show up in your corner of the world. Here the woods are alive with birdsong, the figs are starting to swell on the trees and the air is perfumed with flowers.
-Mikaela