After a mere seven years of marriage, I have officially been inducted into Morrison’s family by proving I can cut in on a family hike, and what’s more CHANGE A BLOWOUT AT TEN THOUSAND FEET. Morrison grew up hiking the High Sierras and other mountains with his Dad and siblings, and while they all saw the trips as low grade torture, it also turned them all into incredibly grounded and resourceful adults. They know how to put up and take down tents and avoid mosquitos and push to the end and pee without it getting all over their legs. We gathered at the stunning Little Lakes valley so Morrison’s dad could live out an extreme fantasy of hiking with all of his grandkids. I am by no means a survivalist or outdoor person, but I aspire to be, and I want my kids to be, like their Dad. Morrison says my strength is not physical, per se, it’s my perspective. The altitude slammed me in the head and made me hover over sleep instead of actually being in it, but still I Hiked, with a 6 month old strapped to my front, because for the Beauty of the Earth, because Joe ran ahead of me with his Grandpa’s hiking stick, because we’re all so small, and let’s remember that (and stop for snacks.)