Africa’s tallest mountain was a temptress, her flat volcanic cone dripping snow, her flanks spread broadly, as if she were opening her arms in supplication. But we passed up the mighty Kilimanjaro to hike Tanzania’s second highest peak, Mount Meru.

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In winter, I think of Colorado resorts in terms of skiing. In summer, I think of the Rocky Mountains in terms of hiking. If I crave outdoor music, sometimes I buy a ticket to a concert at Red Rocks Amphitheater. But this cost-cutting year, I’m re-mixing my seasonal favorites into new combos. On this Sunday, I mix Copper Mountain with world class guitarists with “free.” Through dumb luck, I find myself at an event that prompts me to tell my husband, ”Ten years from now, we’ll tell people, ‘We were there when…’”

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Like many who choose a life of adventure and purpose over the pursuit of profitable careers and sensible savings, I’ve lately spent the end of each month scrounging in our junk drawer for spare change. Although sifting pennies for quarters can set me to mourning the exotic journeys I can’t afford, this time the jingle in my pocket returns me to a time I’d forgotten, when Mom used to give me spare change from her purse to seek adventure in my neighborhood. (more…)