Green. It’s a humble color often taken for granted. Patches of it are engrained in our everyday lives; in the lawns I pass while walking my dog, in the succulents dotting office entryways, or peeking out from behind brighter blooms. Sage Green was a common request in my past life as an interior designer when clients wanted a soothing neutral backdrop. That's usually how I think of the color, a supporting character, never the star of the show. It's not until the tiniest drops of rain cause the dusty California hills to flourish that I'm reminded how this color can have the same vibrancy as tangerine oranges and sunflower yellows. A color so potent Ginger, Tracy and I didn't think twice about throwing our road trip schedule out the window to take an unplanned detour just east of San Francisco.
We were chugging along the congested 580 when each side of the highway suddenly burst open to reveal the most vivid, limitless stretch of rolling green hills. It was that type of green that fills your heart, so brilliant and delicious it pulled all three of us out of a driving-induced haze. I imagine all three of us frolicking through the hillside à la Julie Andrews in the Sound of Music. We were all gaping out the window. We knew we had to pull over.
I merged into the slow lane and the girls scanned the edges of the land for an entrance. These hills belonged to a wind farm and were lined with fencing, barbed wire, security cameras, and some pretty intimidating signage which put the kabosh on any fantasies of hopping fences like rebellious teens. Luckily, trespassing wasn’t necessary as we found a road just off the highway that led straight into the hills.
Once we made it off the main drag, the yellow lines disappeared and we were treated to the most perfect stretch of road. You know the kind, with smooth black pavement that rolls like butter under your tires. The kind of hills that just beg to be tackled at a clip. The kind of road that seems to pull you along without so much as a pedal stroke. With no one around but the cows in the surrounding pastures, it felt like our own undiscovered secret.
These unpredictable moments are what fuel me under pressures to constantly one-up myself. Pressures to do something bigger and more impressive than the last. This wasn’t a planned photoshoot on a storied mountain pass, and the spontaneity is what made this mini-adventure so invigorating and fun. You can find epic in the ordinary, even in the most unassuming hillside on the side of a highway.