It starts with a yes
A story of saying yes to hiking Half Dome, but also, then of zucchini gnocchi.
Reader, I’ve done something I very well may come to regret in the next week and a half: I said yes to climbing a mountain.
Now, this isn’t any ol’ mountain. It’s Half Dome, simply described on the website as “a Yosemite icon and a great challenge to many hikers.” The trip usually takes upwards of twelve hours to complete. Although there are parts of the 14 - 16 mile hike you simply walk, there are also parts that involve wearing gloves and climbing up cables and promising to turn around if you haven’t reached the summit by mid-afternoon.
You carry a gallon of water, along with lots and lots of snacks. Hiking poles are a good idea, as is a headlamp in case you’re still climbing when it turns dusk.
It’s a doozy, to say the least, and one I certainly could be better prepared to hike. But here we are, nine days out, and I can feel my eyes growing wider by the second. What have I gotten myself into? is a common refrain running through my mind, accompanied by the belief that this will certainly make a good story when all is said and done.
Here’s the thing, though: I’m doing it to honor a dear friend’s 50th birthday. She’s graced this crazy earth for half a century now. When it came to commemorating the occasion, I encouraged her to opt for a weekend in Mexico or perhaps Santa Barbara if she didn’t feel like traveling too far.
But no, the woman wanted nothing more than to hike Half Dome with a handful of girlfriends. Who were we to say no?
Of course, I could very well have said no, but I didn’t. Instead, it was like I found myself watching an imaginary scene play out, complete with a bobble-headed cartoon image of myself as the main character.
Cara gets a text from her girlfriend: “Want to climb Half Dome with me for my 50th?” The main character stares at the jumbled-up mess of words before her. She feels her eyes widen, she vehemently shakes her head from side-to-side. Meanwhile, her fingers begin to rise upwards, seeming to take on a life of their own. She watches as her thumbs begin to type a response: “Y-E-S.” She screams in horror.
Isn’t this how it always goes, though? It starts with a yes, or perhaps as sometimes is the case, a no.
A gut something urges us forward, rises up from the inside-out. Try as we might, we can’t avoid its presence. An idea has birthed.
This happens in writing, when a single thought or image or phrase morphs its way into an entire novel. It happens in the garden when we plan out our garden while lying in bed with Covid (true story), and it happens in our professional lives when all we can say is a hearty yes, yes, yes to invitations and opportunities that come our way.
As I briefly wrote about in Saturday’s newsletter, when I planted a single zucchini plant in a prominent, sunny place in the backyard, a funny thing happened along the way: it grew.
It grew and it grew and it grew. My family begged me give it away, give it away, give it away now, until the neighbors and the teachers and the churchgoers begged me stop coming around with all that zucchini.
So, I had to make-do with our own abundance of zucchini. Sautéed zucchini, roasted zucchini, zucchini chocolate muffins, zucchini banana bread, and one such egg scramble with fried zucchini later, I wasn’t sure what else could be done with all that blessed zucchini.
And then it came to me: zucchini gnocchi.
Not add-chopped-zucchini-to-previously-prepared-gnocchi, but salt some shredded zucchini, add a couple of egg yolks and flour, and roll it into a snake on your kitchen counter homemade zucchini gnocchi.
Enlist the help of a small human who also likes to roll snakes out of dough and engage in conversation while you roll and cut and drop it into a vat of boiling water.
When the gnocchi bubbles to the surface, scoop it up and throw it into a pan sizzling with olive oil. You don’t have to do that last step, but slightly crispy is usually a little nicer on your tastebuds than slimy and mushy.
Top it with tomato sauce and a sprinkle of parmesan.
Because it all begins with a single idea.
Isn’t that how it usually goes?
Do you want my recipe for Zucchini Relish?
I don’t recommend as much sweetener as it calls for!
Good luck with Half Dome!!!
Muddah
I stopped planting zucchini because I got tired of eating it and no one wanted any more. I ended up shredding it and making "zucchini fritters", but I do have to admire their will to grow and multiple. Good luck hiking Half Dome!